Hen: Do: Cary Baro de Leppington Comes Monmouthensis, et Honble Ord: Balniae Eques. DEO CARI NIHILO CARENT portrait of Henry Earl of Monmouth Guil: Faithorne fe: CAROLUS D.G. MAGNAE BRITANNIAE FRAN: ET HIB: REX portrait of King Charles I MARIA D.G. MAG: BRITANNIAE FRANCIAE ET HIBER REGINA portrait of Queen Mary AN HISTORY of the Civil Wars of ENGLAND between the two houses of Lancaster and York The original where of is set down in the life of Richard the second; their proceedings in the lives of Henry the 4th Henry the 5th and 6th Edward the 4th and 5th Richard the 3d and Henry the 7th in whose days they had a happy period. Englished by the Right Honble Henry Earl of Monmouth in two Volumes Imprinted at London for john Benson & are to be sold at his shop in St Dunstan's churchyard 1641 AN HISTORY OF THE Civil Wars OF ENGLAND, Between the two Houses of Lancaster and York. The original whereof is set down in the life of Richard the second; their proceedings, in the lives of Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth, Edward the fourth and fifth, Richard the third, and Henry the seventh, in whose days they had a happy period. Written in Italian in three Volumes, by Sir Francis Biondi, Knight, Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to his Majesty of Great Britain. Englished by the Right Honourable HENRY Earl of MOUNMOUTH, in two Volumes. THE FIRST VOLUME. Imprinted at London by T. H. and I. D. for john Benson, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dustans' Churchyard, 1641. THE TRANSLATORS EPISTLE TO THE READERS HIS COUNTRYMEN. THat Translations are at the best but like the wrong side of Hangings, is granted. Yet he who cannot get to see the right side, may by the other guess at the Story therein represented. This of mine may yet seem to be of a worse condition; as only the reducing back to our own Language that which hath been collected from our home Stories, and published in a foreign Tongue; so as it may almost be termed the turning into English what was turned out of English. But the Author hath had his end: the making the valour and honour of our Kingdom known to his own Countrymen; for which we owe him a national thanks. I have chosen this way to pay mine, by affording you all a means how to acknowledge yours, and thus I have part of my end likewise. The remainder being my observance of his desires, and the shunning of spending my time worse The Italian saith, Chi non puo quel che voule, quel che puo voglia. If I could coin any thing out of my own Brain, worthy of my Countrymen, they should have it: since not, let them accept of this Piece of Gold changed into Silver, and therein of the good will of their Compatriot MOUNMOUTH. THE AUTHOR'S EPISTLE DEDICATORY, To the High and mighty Monarch, CHARLES, King of great BRITAIN, FRANCE and IRELAND. I Was of opinion, Sir, that the eminent condition of Princes did require from such as serve them, actions answerable to the greatness of their thoughts, and that otherwise they would prove contrary to the dignity of the one, and duty of the other. But upon better advice, I found that Princes make use of men as they do of metals, which though not all of a like worth, yet are they all adapted to proper uses; so as iron and lead, (though of mean esteem) are not to be slighted in things where gold and silver are of no use. ay, Sir, that am the meanest of all your Majesty's metals, having undertaken to write the story of the Civil wars of England, was in some dispute with myself touching the Dedication. And though in all reason I was to dedicate it to your Majesty (as I most humbly do) yet the thread of my discourse wanting the mentioned proportion, I have laboured to persuade myself to offend rather against it then against my duty; not that I ever imagined my lead could be any ways serviceable unto your Ma.tie, but that I fain would hope your Majesty through Royal clemency will be pleased to approve of my resolution occasioned by the leisure times your Majesty's liberality causeth me to enjoy. The reason, Sir, why I write it not from its beginning, is my not being sure to finish it. To make therefore an entire story, I have chosen that part thereof which is to be handled under one title and object. And I have written it in this language, for that Italy, though rich in science and history, is but meanly furnished with this story, having had no light at all thereof save by Polidore Virgil, who by writing it in Latin, hath made only for the learned, and by making it so succinct, hath afforded me field room to make it for all men, and to add many things to the much, which perhaps (for lack of time) was by him omitted. I know not Sir, whether the freedom I take in giving my opinion upon the passages herein, be to please all men, but a bare story seemed to me to be like a naked body, which exposed to the injury of air, groweth infirm, and being seen by others is ashamed. Some are of opinion that all things ought to be represented in their original purity, that so the liberty of giving judgement might be left unto the reader; yet the best both of ancient and modern writers have done otherwise. But a whole piece of cloth being presented to the Readers view, he cannot judge whether all the threads be of equal goodness, unless the weaver, who knows from whence he had them give him a true information; not thereby taking from him the liberty of giving his judgement, but rather affording him a double freedom therein, for to the examination of the story he adds the power of examining the historians opinion: I praise goodness, and blame vice, but in the second Volume I do not praise the soft unsinnowy goodness of Henry the sixth. Xenophon decyfering a perfect Prince in the person of Cyrus, amongst exercises prescribes him hunting; not that by the custom of seeing blood shed he should become cruel, but that by not commiserating delinquents, he might become just; and not abhorring the sight of dead beasts, warlike; otherwise contaminated with a womanish pity, he would at the same time have made him incapable both of sceptre and sword. Goodness though feminine by name is of masculine effects; and fixing its undazled eyes upon God its primary end, aught to become void of folly, scruples and fears. I am sorry, Sir, I was so late in undertaking this affair, since I am too late aware that contemplative sciences do in their universal objects produce particular ends, bring delight and glory to the understanding, no profit; that truth may sow the seeds, but opinion reap the harvest, that we are not wise, save when we know, we know nothing, which is that learned ignorance so ingeniously handled by the Cardinal of Cusa; I place not here divine knowledge●… she hath two real foundations to be esteemed such; prophecies, miracles, and histories take from this number. But since we are taught to know no more than is behooveful, and that with sobriety, and according to the gift we are endowed with all, I see not that we are necessitated to busy ourselves therein, unless there be a lawful vocation, whilst we ought to content ourselves with the knowledge of God, by the general way of the world's harmony and order, and by the particular way of faith. The true cause then, Sir, which hath moved me to this undertaking, is the having considered that the end of civil life, being to live well and happily, and that there is no happiness without knowledge, nor knowledge without science, since those of contemplation do not, it must be the moral sciences which do produce it: the which appeareth manifest unto me, for that nature hath imprinted in us the principals thereof, to make it the more easy unto us, to the end that without contemplation or learning, the learned and unlearned may be equally capable thereof, agevolated by their object, the which is either familiar in us, as are affections, or hath dependency upon us, as have actions. As soon as we are borne, by the traditions of our parents, and such as have the care of our bringing us up, we learn to love virtue, and hate vice; being become men, to govern our family; grown more mature, to rule the weal public: and if we meet not with so much of facility in the last, as in the other two, it happeneth for that moral and Economical virtues are but the Columns, whereas the practice of States, the knowledge of Princes, and how to manage people, are the true structure of this edifice, upon the model though of past events. For as wits though never so excellent express no other conceits then what have formerly been expressed (sine they cannot exceed the bounds wherewith knowledge in general is limited) so adventures, though casual, happen not but by way of Analogy to what hath already happened; depending upon the constant causes of former orders, the which though divers in time, are, notwithstanding at all times like unto themselves, if not equal. So as since we are wanting in the practice of present affairs, the knowledge of what is passed is necessary, the which not being to be had but by history, it followeth that history be the safest way to this happiness, worthy to be with all diligence frequented, not by me alone, but by the very best. This, Sir, is the occasion of my present labours; which I consecreate unto your Majesty not so much for that they appertain unto you (containing the Acts of your most glorious predecessors) as that your Majesty possessing all such discipline as does become a great King, will together with the work accept the devoted good will of the workman, who boasts himself of nothing more than of the honour he hath to be Your Majesty's most hmble and faithful servant Giovanni Francisco Biondi. THE GENEALOGY OF EDWARD THE THIRD, Who had Five Daughters, and seven Sons. 1. IZabella, who married Ingheran Lord of Cousi, by whom she had two daughters, 1. Marry, married to Henry of Bar. 2. Philippe, married to Robert Vere, Duke of Ireland, afterwards repudiated. 2. joan, married to Alfonso 11. King of Castille and Leon. 3. Blanch, who died young. 4. Marry, married to john Montford, Duke of Brittany. 5. Margaret, married to john Hastings, Earl of Pembroke, who died without issue. 1. Edward Prince of Wales, who married joan daughter of Edmund Earl of Kent, brother by the father's side to Edward the second, by whom he had Richard the second, who succeeded his Grandfather in the Kingdom, and died a violent death without issue. 2. William of Staifield. 3. Lionel, Duke of Clarence. 4. john of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. 5. Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. 6. William of Windsor. 7. Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester. The two Williams both died young without issue. The Genealogies of the four other are hereafter set down. The Genealogy of Lionel Duke of Clarence, third Son of Edward the third. Lionel duke of Clarence married Elizab. daughter of Will. Burgh earl of Vister. by whom he had Philippe, who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, and had by him Roger, Earl of March. declared by Richard the second successor to the Kingdom the year 1387 who married Elizabeth, sister to Thomas Holland Duke of Surrey, and had issues Edmund Earl of March, who died in Ireland without issue, the third year of Henry 6. Roger, who died young. Anne, who married Richard Earl of Cambridge, son to Edward Duke of York; she afterwards laid pretence unto the crown. Eleanor, who died without issue. Edmund. john, beheaded in the third year of Henry the sixth. Elizabeth, married to the Lord Percy, surnamed Hotspurre. Henry, the second Earl of Northumberland, who was stain in the first battle at St Alban, who by Eleanor daughter of Ralph Nevil, first Duke of Westmoreland, had Henry, the third Earl of Northumberland, who was slain siding with Henry the sixth, against Edward the fourth. Philippe, who had three husbands, but no issue. The Genealogy of john Duke of Lancaster, fourth son of Edward the third, from whom came 4. Kings, viz. Henry the 4. 5. 6. 7. Of 3. wives he had 8. children, what Sons, what Daughters. By Blanch, daughter to Henry Duke of Lancaster, grandchild to Henry Earl of Lancaster, & great grandchild to Edmund, second son to Henry the 3. Henry the 4. married to Mary daughter to Humphrey of Bohun, Earl of Hertfora Essex, and Nottingham, Constable of England, by whom he had Henry the 5. marriea to Catherine of France; by whom he had Henry the 6. who married Margerit, daughter to Regnald Duke of A●…ou, King of Si●…ily from whom came Edward, Prince of Wales slain by Edward the 4. who all died without issue. Thomas, duke of Clarence, john, ●uke of Bedford. Humphrey, duke of Gloster. Blanch, married to the Elector Palatine. Philippe, married to the King of Denmark. Philippe, married to john King of Portugal, from whom came the successors of that Crown. Elizabeth, married to john Holland, Duke of Exeter, beheaded at Chester. Richard Holland, who died young. john, Duke of Exeter, who had two wives, viz. Anne, daughter of the Earl of Stafford, by whom Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, dis-inhe●…ited by Act of Parliament the first year of Edward the fourth, and found ●…ad the thirteenth year between Dover and Caleis. Anne, daughter to joh. Montacute earl of Salisbury, by whom Anne, married to Thomas Nevil, brother to the second Earl of Westmoreland. Ralph Nevil, 3. Earl of Westmoreland Edward, who died without issue. By Constance, daughter to Peter, King of Castille, Catherine, married to Henry, son and heir to john King of Castille and Leon, from whom descended the heirs of those Kingdoms. By Catherine Roët, daughter to a King of Arms, by whom he had before he married her, and who were after made legitimate by the Pope's authority and Act of Parliament, john Beaufort, Marquis of Somerset and Dorset, who married Margerit, daughter to Thomas Holland, Earl of Kent. Henry, who died young. john, first Duke of Somerset, who married Margerite daughter to Sr. john Beauchamp. Margerite, married to Edward Adham earl of Richmond. Henry the 7. who married Elizabeth daughter to Henry the 4. Edmund, Duke of Somerset, slain in the ●…attell at S. Alban, who married Elinor, daughter of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. Henry, Duke of Somerset, beheaded, an. 1462. Charles Somerset Earl of Worcester, bastard. Edmund, Duke of Somerset, beheaded, Anno 1471. dying without heirs. john, slain at the battle of Teuksbury. Thomas. joan, married to james the first, King of Scotland. Margerite, married to Thomas Courtney Earl of Devonshire. Thomas, E. of Devonsh. beheaded. Henry, beheaded. john, slain at Teuksbury. Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, Cardinal of St. Eusebius, and Chancellor of England Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset, Duke of Exeter, and Chancellor of England. joan Beaufort, for whose issue look the next lease. jane Beaufort, married to Ralph Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland. Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury, beheaded, who married Elinor, daughter to Thomas Montigue, Earl of Salisbury. William, Lord of Faulkenbridge Edward, Earl of Abergaveny. George, Lord Latimer. Robert, Bishop of Durham. Cuthbert. Henry. Thomas. Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick, surnamed, The great, he married Anne, daughter of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. Isabel, wife of George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence, brother to Edward the fourth, drowned in a But of Malm●…y. Edward, Earl of Warwick, last heir male of the Plantagenet, he was beheaded. Margerite, Countess of Salisbury, wife to Richard Pool, beheaded the 13. year of Henry the 8. she was mother to Cardinal Poole. Anne, wife to Edward, Prince of Wales son to Henry 6. he was slain by the Duke of Gloucester, who after married the said Anne. Edward Prince of Wales, who died before his Father. john, Marquis Montigue, who married the daughter of Sr Edward Engelthorpe. George, Archbishop of York, and Chancellor of England. George Nevil, Duke of Bedford, degraded together with his father, for not having left sufficient means to maintain their honour. Luce, first married to Sir Thomas Fitz-Williams, then to Sir Anthony Browne, by whom William, Earl of Southampton. St Anthony Browne. jane, married to Will. Fitzallen, Earl of Arundel. Thomas Fitzallen, Earl of Arundel. William Earl of Arundel. Elinor, wife to Thomas Stanley Earl of Derby. George, Baron Strange Thomas, Earl of Derby. Edward, Lord Mounteagle. james, Bishop of Ely. Catherine, wife to john Mowbray, second duke of Norfolk. john, duke of Norfolk married to Elinor, daughter of the Lord Bourchier. john, duke of Norfolk married to Elizabeth, daughter to Geo. Talbot, 1. earl of Shrewsb. Anne, wife to Richard, Duke of York second son of Edward the fourth. Elinor, wife to Henry Percy, second Earl of Northumberland slain in the service of Henry 6. in the first battle at Saint Alban. Henry, the third earl of Northumberland, slain in the like service, who married Elinor, daughter to Richard, Lord Poinings. Henry, the fourth Earl of Northumberland, slain by the people, for levying a tax imposed by Henry the seventh, and the Parliament, he married Maudlin, daughter to the earl of Pembroke. Henry, the fifth earl of Northumberland. William. Allen, a Bishop. jocelin. Elinor, married to Edward Stafford, duke of Buckingham. Anne, wife to William Fitzallen, Earl of Arundel. Anne, wife to Humphrey Staffo●…d, first Duke of Buckingham, slain in the first battle at Northhampton. Humphrey, Earl of Stafford, slain in the first battle of St Alban; he married Margerite, sister to Edward Beaufort Duke of Somerset. Henry, second Duke of Somerset▪ beheaded by Richard 3. he married Catherine, sister to Richard Woodville, Earl Rivers. Edward, Duke of Buckingham. Henry of Wiltshire, both beheaded by Henry the 8. john Stafford, Earl of Wiltshire, married to Constance, daughter to Sir Henry Greene. Edward Stafford, Earl of Wiltshire. Catherine, wife to George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury. George, E. of Shrewsbury, married to Anne, daughter to the Lord Hastings. Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury. Margerite, married to Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Sicily, of whose issue see the next leaf. Sicily, married to Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, who waged war with Henry the 6. as lawful pretender to the Crown, he was slain in the battle of Wakefield. King Edward the 4. who married Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Woodville, Earl Rivers. King Edward the 5. Richard, duke of York. Both slain in the Towe●… by their uncle Richard 3 Elizabeth, married to Henry the 7. Arthur, prince of Wales. Henry the 8. Catherine, married to William Courtney, earl of Devonshire. Henry, Earl of Devonshire, and Marquis of Exeter, beheaded by Henry the 8. Edmund, who died in the battle with his Father. George, Duke of Clarence, drowned in a But of Malmsey in the Tower, he married Isabel, daughter to Richard Nevil, Earl of Warwick. Edward, Earl of Warwick, beheaded under Henry the 7. Margerite, Countess of Salisbury, married to Sr Richard Poole, beheaded under Henry the 8. Henry, Lord Montigue, beheaded under Henry the 8. Reginald Poole, Cardinal. Ursula, married to Henry Lord Stafford, son and heir to Edward, last Duke of Buckingham. Richard, Duke of Gloucester, by tyrannical usurpation, called afterward Richard the 3. who married Anne, daughter to Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick. Edward, Prince of Wales, who died during his father's life. THE INTRODUCTION. MY intention is to write the story of England, for as much as concerns the C●…vill Wars of that Kingdom, from their first rise, to their happy period. Events, which the less they be known forth of those Climates, the more worthy are they of others knowledge. Civil knowledge accounts not him wise who applies himself only to what concerns his own Country, but who enlargeth his understanding to the universal knowledge of all Nations. Such as are unexperienced and too passionately g●…ven to the love of their own Country do▪ usually misprise foreign occurrences; whilst alteration in governments doth vary those virtues in them by which they acquired a name above others. The Assyrians, Medes, and Persians, the Macedonians Greeks, and Romans, do witness this unto us; people ought not to boast of what they were, but (if there be any occasion of ostentation) of what they for the present are. Barbarism is not so general in the now present times, as in times past: of as many Nations as are, there is not any one who at this day can vaunt herself to be the lawgiver unto others. What is wanting in some one is peeced up by the advantages which some others have not. This discipline of war, learning, the liberal sciences, arts mechanical, and civil comportment are so diffused, as those who last embraced them, are like to cisterns, which do more abound with water then do the house tops and gutters, from which they did at first fall. There was a time when the Grecians had presumption enough to repute the Romans barbarous; their condition shows us how much they were deceived. The Vandals, Lombard's and Goths were civilised at the cost of the Roman Empire. Where luxury and vice increase, their dominion decreaseth, and together with the rigour of the mind, civility itself; which is not defined by ceremonial compliments, but by the strong effect of a judicious understanding. England, than Albion, and now Britain, a Country not fully known before Cae●…ars time: from the entry of the Romans fell to be one of the most noted, and most glorious Monarcnies of the world. She did not send multitudes of people abroad: for abounding in whatsoever is requisite to nature (and that in some perfection) she haa no need of other Colonies, nay her own abundance and fertility was such, as invited her being oppugned; whilst divided, and under the command of many, she remained a prey to them that did assail her. I intent not to speak of her beginning; so long a work suits not with so short a life as is mine. I will take my rise from her Civil wars, which will show unto us what evil effects states divided within themselves do produce; and how that nature to render this people valiant, took from them the apprehension of death, the only thing which makes men base and cowards; not that an inclination to peace be not to be numbered amongst the greatest hapinesses of mankind, but for that the world being what it then was, and what it will be to the end, humbleness and meekness ought only to be accounted amongst individual virtues: So as if people be not of themselves fierce, they shall always be subject to the neglect and injuries of such as esteem a pleasing behaviour no virtue, but a weakness of nature. The praise of mansuetude in one or a few, is not incompatible with valour, but in a whole nation it is as much to be blamed as it is the occasion of harm. For virtue or vice are not judged by Moral or Theological terms, but by the good or bad effects which from thence may ensue. The Britain's were not subject to such defects; and though they made trial of many, ebbs of fortune being miserably enforced (if we may believe Gilda) to invoke the Roman assistance, it was for that they were divided in their forces and inclinations. But being brought under one absolute King, they appeared to be all members of one solid body, of force not to be conquered, and of mind alternatly disposed, either to preserve their reputations or die. They have obtained famous victories, though fewer in number by two thirds. The battle of Cressi and Poitiers witness this unto us; but more particularly those that we are to meet withal in this our story: their minds were at first wholly set upon liberty, so as free from foreign fear, they oftentimes would boggle at their own kings, who though they were absolute, bade not withstanding their Monarchy so well upheld by the Laws, that they could hardly fall from regal power to oppression. And though the jealousy of this libertyhath sometimes been very great in these people, even to the making of them headstrong and seditious, yet inconveniences which do incidently happen, ought not to be of power enough to take from the substance of that government, the title of a well governed Commonwealth. And though it be not void of faults (heaven being the only perfect Monarchy) yet not such as are cause of mischief. They are not taxed or oppressed; without grievance or new impositions. And whereas the Country people in other parts walk bare foot and bare legged, with tattered clothes, and lean looks: beer well clothed and well liking, they in substance are, and in apparel seem to be honourable and wealthy Citizens. But it is plainly seen by them that men are weary of well doing. For ignorant of other men's miseries, when they want their wont wars, and triumphs, they think themselves miserable, whilst in comparison of as many as I know, they are the happiest nation in the world. Nor is the authority of their kings lessened by this liberty: when they are virtuous and frugal, or else esteemed of for their victories and Trophies; they have done with their people even what they pleased. The two Henry's the 5. and the 7 in this our story (not to make use of any out of it) are examples of this. Nor do their mean revenues in comparison of those excessive ones of other Kings make them less rich; for free from the extortion of great men, from maintaining of Citadel, Garrisons, borse, confines: not troubled with Swissers, dependences, correspondencies, spies (all necessary expenses, be it for the preservation of ones own, or the pretending to what is another's) they need not have any more. They are secure at home, having no dependency but on the King: for abroad, the Sea is their ditch, their Citadel, their Bulwark; and their ships though their chiefest charge, yet ordinarily are of no vast expense. Besides, upon any extraordinary occurrence, their treasure is locked up in their subjects purses, from whence it is drawn by the usual way of Parliament, without oppression or injury to any one: and what by this means is raised, doth not (as in many other states) remain a continual revenue to the Prince. By the testimony of Philip de Comines, the revenue of France in Charles the sevenths' time, did not exceed one hundred and fourscore thousand pound sterling. Under Lewis the leventh, they came to four hundred and seventy thousand pounds sterling; the year 1608. under Henry the fourth, three millions one hundred thousand pound sterling. and at this present time under Lewis the thirteenth (if the relation be not false) it amounts to four millions and five hundred thousand pounds Sterling, or more. Hence I infer that the Kings of England walk in the eclyptique line of their government, ruled by two just counterpoises, regal authority, which makes them be obeyed; and the Laws, a just weight, equally fitted to shape forth a well constituted Aristodemocraticall government The people enjoy their liberty provided for by the Laws: The Nobility such Honours and Offices as become their quality: and the King his will in making war or peace: All confiscations and power of pardoning, the Laws not having debarred him of anything which appertaineth to an absolutely juridical Prince. I thought good to touch upon these few things, for that necessary foreknowledge which may be needful to this our History: And if they may appear strange to such as are borne under Princes who know no other Law then their own will, they ought not to think it strange, that governments to be good, ought (as all other sublunary things) to be composed of more elements than one; and that their contrariety produeeth the unity which nature requires. The Gentiles did not without some great mystery feign their Gods to be bound by fate, and by their swearing by the Stygian waters. For Princes are these Gods, their oaths by the Stygian waters, the oaths which at their Coronation they take for the good of the people: which would not be necessary for good Princes (for goodness is a Law unto itself) but as necessary for those who may happen not to be such, as are the soul and sense to a living body: nor ought they for this to think themselves ere a whit the less firmly rooted: for as God is the more potent for the impotency he hath to sin, so their potency is more solid, whilst incorporated into the Laws it becomes impeccable: otherwise if they stood only upon their own legs, hatred and fear, their natural enemies, were borne coetaneans with them, to ensnare them. These my praises of this Nation may perchance appear not to be true to him who shall consider the beginning of our story, since that passing over the relation of so many glorious Kings, I take myrise from the unfortunate reign of Richard the second, who coming to the Crown at eleven years of age, doth prove the miserable condition of such States as are governed by an intant King. But virtue and vice change together with the times; a necessary vicissitude in governments, not in a proper respect, but in respect of the general; for if it were otherwise, people endowed with equal generosity, would either reciprocally destroy themselves, or else they would all fall under the command of some one who were more eminent in virtue then all the rest. Man hath his age prefixed, so have Kingdoms: to die of decrepit age is not usual, of disorders usual: Kingdoms perish more by disorders then by decrepit age: so as the people members of the King their ●…ead, cannot but languish when he languisheth. I conclude, that the end of these my slight endeavours are, to represent as in a looking glass, to Prince's moderation, to subjects obedience; for that violent changes draw after them slaughter, misery and destruction. Errata. In the life of R. 2. of H. 4 and H. 5. Page. 1. Line 10. Read Cressy. ibid. 25. This. 3. 4. Leon. ibid. 36. attestate. 10. 38. Dukes. ibid. Flankers. 18. 2. keys. Ibid. 28. seize. 20. 2. to much wisdom. 31 6. not the nearness. 38. 9 Berkely 41. 14. incapable. 44. 1. the. 50. 21. who. 52. 26. Cor●…eri. 53. 27. unprovided. 45. 22. lands. 55. 32. felled. 58. 2. King Richard had concluded for 30. years. ibid. if it had been. ibid. 46. illegal. 59 6. a tree watered. ibid. 32. but under. ibid. 48. heir to Richard. Glendour, using. 69. 22. the oar. 70. 43. who. 74. 47. covering. 76. 45. Corbeil. 77. 6. might have been; if of. ibid. 18. Bourges. 79. 29. Mowb●…ay. ibid. 26. bolder resolves: revenge being. 82. 1. intending. ibid. 39 and, in another. 89. 10. contumacy. ibid. 35. Angoulesme. 90. 24. Suburbs St. Ma●…ceau. 91. 12. was only. 101. 9 that the injury. 105. 7. a Carthusian. ibid. 13. Du Main. ibid. 20. examine whether the late. 106. 19 Meroveus were the son of Clodian. 107. 1. Clotharius. 110. 42. Malcolm. 111. 12. more peace nor less trouble. 113. 14. undertaken. ibid. 41. rewarder. 114. 3. Richard the third. 115. 19 Seine. ibid. 37. resolved. 116. 44. Eu. 118. 22. puffed up. 119. 48 the arrows. 120. 31. Bornonville. ibid. ead. Hembert d'Agincourt. ibid. 39 little less. 126. 37. Valentiana. 127. 48. Touque. 130. 34. to. 131 3 streets were (to. ibid. 5. Burgundy. ibid. 13. others sex for. 132. 9 Archery. ibid. 35. many. 143. 25. by the Duke. 145. 44. Montague. 146. 21. bloody hands and Crocodiles tears. 148. 11. Bride. ibid. 15. Charenten. 149. 19 Villa nova. ibid. 27. rather to hinder the enemies. ibid. 47. mine. 152. 35. leaving. ibid. 37. that. ibid. 47. passion, which in. 154. 24. beset with jewels. 155. 37. Sw●…ton. 157. 4. i●… is he that. ibid. 8. any. ibid. 14. price. ibid. 17. Earl of Mortaigne. ibid. 24. Thiam. 158. 16 Marne environing. ibid. 41. besiegers. 159. 35. Montague. ibid. 42. went to her. 160. 23. Senlis. 162. 18. arms, his. Errata, in the life of Henry 6. Page 7. Line 24. Read, john the fifth. 10. 31. (being armed and in march). 11. 24. fortune. 15. 4. jaqueline. 18. 8. Gough. 24. 6. Touraine. 29. 47. Amadeus. 30. 21. not to lose. ibid. 42. joyeuse. 38. 23. Argentres. Hall. 39 42. a Dukedom. 42. 33. overburdened. 43. 35. This is worthy. 48. 21 yet are. ibid. 32. once. 56. 21. Hubbub. 57 33. to the second. 67. 33. maugre those. 68 18. Huts. 69. 29. joan. 72. 11. mission. 79. 13. river Soame, confining. 92. 29. Eugenius the 4. 104. 30. together all. 105. 41. Bruges. 106. 20. might serve. 107. 29. not but. ibid. 36. Roxborough. 112. 13. jaquelina. 113. 18. haven. 114. 24. cultivated. ibid. 39 Henry. At the same time Longueville. ibid. 42. Charles his obedience; playing. 115. 17. Tholouse. ibid. 46. when. 117. 34. unto him his. 119. 18. Duchies. ibid. 31. enmity. 120. 21. Lewis. 121. 11. not able. 122. 1. Town. ibid. 26 whomsoever. ibid. 30. England. These were. 123. 33. environed with enemies. ib. in marg. 1443. 124. 26. a separation. 125. 43. not acknowledge God. 128. 12. humble, devout. ibid. 43. men and together with them the Queen, perceiving. 129. 20. a lover of his. 130. 48. Fougeres. 131. 9 did not approve. ibid. 29. would not fail. ibid. 35. Louviers. 132. 14. emborsed by them. ibid. 42. The Count of Dunois. 133. 22. by Charles to the. ●…bid. 36. of the same Castle. ibid. 43. Argenion. 134. 26. Fresnoy. ibid. 42. towers. ibid. 46. slaughter was greater of. 136. 48. the 8 of December. 137. 22. whence. ibid. 25. Bresse Lord high Marshal of Normandy, and. 138. 10. Guenne went handsomely forwards, though. ibid. 11. fast as. ibid. 12. Guis●…in. ibid. 17. 〈◊〉. 138. 23. 60. ibid. 44. Fresnoy. 139. 7. Sir Matthew Gough, etc. up. ibid. 10. Formigni. ibid. 16. among which were T●…el Mowbray and Sir Thomas Dr●…w: Vere and Gough, with the. ibid. 23. that they. ibid. 41. Castres'. 140. 48. Cheriburg. Bricquebec, Valonges. 141. 11. was very strong. ibid. 13. conceal. ibid. 42. that the. 142. 6. Falaise. 145. 28. They. ibid. 42. the. 148. 2. kinsman. ibid. 24. retire. 149. 31. with. ibid. 35. of some who shunned. 150. 14. Eeden. 151. 35. 10000 152. 15. found. 153. 42. he. 154. 19 sects, the one doth not believe the other. 155. 9 State. ibid. 14 but. 156. 16. get. 161. 12. forbore not. ibid. 26. esteemed; so much the less to be. ibid. 48. Sudley. 162. 33. not notwithstanding. 166. 11. this. ib. 22. bestead. 169. 1. inhibit. ib. 7. he. 170 49. but to restore. 172. 39 he should. 176. 45. were upon. 177. 4. cruelty. The Reader may do himself a pleasure, and me a courtesy, if, with his pen, he will correct these Errata before he read the Book; which if it take so well as may give encouragement for a second Impression, I will take care the like shall not be committed. THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND. Richard the 2. FRom four Edward's did Richard the second descend: of which the first three were succeeding Kings; the fourth, Prince of Wales, furnamed the Black Prince, who dying before his Father Edward the third, did not attain the Crown. England could not boast of braver Princes, nor Europe of more gallant Commanders, than were the latter two; they brought home renowned victories; the black Prince, not yet fully sixteen years old, was victorious in the battle of Cresses, his Father being present, who denied him succour, only looking on whilst he with bare two thirds of 8500. men fought with little less than 90000. to the end that that worth which before its accustomed time did bud forth in him, might produce early fruits, watered by the Rivulets of glory and honour: and not many years after, being fewer by three fourth's than were his enemies, he in the battle of Poitiers took King john of France prisoner, environed by all the Princes and Nobility of that Kingdom: but dying not long after in the full growth of his glorious achievements, he left behind him this Richard, which did succeed his grandfather, the year 1377. Edward the third had seven sons; four whereof died during his life time: the first, as hath already been said; the second and sixth without issue: and the third which was Lonel Duke of Clarence, left no other issue save Philip married to Edmond Mortimer, Earl of Marsh, of whom came Roger, and of Roger, Anne, the innocent cause of mischief to that kingdom; for being married to Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Cambridge, second son to Edmund Duke of York, she enriched that Family by her just pretences to the Crown, much more than by her portion, whereof her successors to the prejudice of the whole kingdom, did afterwards make use. For though the laying private claims to Estates be always lawful to the pretender, yet is it not always expedient for the public; nor are they easily obtained, but by unjust and cruel ways. john Duke of Lancaster, Edmond and Thomas, the fourth, fifth, and seventh, were only those who did outlive him. The latter two whereof were afterwards by their Nephew created Dukes; the one of York, the other of Gloster. I will not here set down their posterity, the reader may betake himself to the genealogical tables prefixed, by means whereof any whosoever (be he not brutishly ignorant both of the law of nature and kingdoms) may give his judgement of the right or wrong of those who reigned: and if therein you shall not meet with the to be commiserated number of those of the blood Royal, who either through the obstinacy of hatred, or incivility of civil wars came immaturely to their end, the occasion will be, for that being descended of women, by former marriages expatiated into other families, cruelty would triumph in the diversity of spoils, and begird her temples with a Crown partly composed of the blood of many, who by their deaths reduced the blood Royal of England to a small number; the which whether it were expedient or not, and whether the multiplicity of pretenders be of use, or the contrary, to Kingdoms, let it be a dispute referred to the argumentation of good wits; though extremes being in all things bad, that seems less harmful which consists in the weaker breath of a few, than what in the violent whirlwinds of many; their authority and designs being able to dissolve, their oppositions and jealousies able to raze whatsoever well founded Monarchy. Richard was by nature endowed with amiable conditions, for being of a comely personage, and of a liberal and generous mind, he was likely to have proved like unto himself, had he had the fortune to have arrived at the maturity of his judgement under the guidance of his Grandfather, or father: but being freed from the authority of such as might have sweetened the asperity of his years, the fruits of such hopes as were conceived, were before their maturity corrupted; for infatuated by the soothing of his flatterers, and enforced by his servants affections (to which Princes through a malign influence are usually subject) he hated all such counsels as did oppugn his mind; he rewarded such as did not contradict him, and being growneolder, he through woeful experience found, that his undoing was occasioned by his having equally offended kindred, Clergy, Nobility, and people. Of the three Dukes, he of York was of a sweet condition, given to pastime, void of ambition, a hater of business, nor did he trouble himself with any, but for formalities sake; being thereunto constrained by his quality. The other two, Lancaster and Gloster, both of them ambitious, and turbulent, did notwithstanding differ in this; that whereas the former endeavoured the increase of his authority, by making himself to be feared, the other aspired to the like end, but by contrary means; Lancaster declaring himself from the beginning to be an enemy to the people; Gloster if not by inclinations, by cunning, profestly popular. First, Richard did much apprehend Lancaster, those who for their own particular interests did soothe him in his youthly desires, endeavoured to persuade him that Lancaster, who was an obstacle by them reputed too difficult for their designs, would have plots upon his person; but being gone into Spain (his thoughts being fixed upon the Kingdoms of Castille and Lions, to both which in the right of his second wife Constance he did pretend) he left Gloster to inherit these suspicions; who opposing himself in all actions against his Nephew, after having provoked him by injuries, and by detractions vexed him, for his reward lost his life. It is not my purpose to write all the acts of this King, a great part whereof I pass over; as the rebellion of the peasants, with intention to extirpate together with the Nobility, himself; his expeditions in France in the pursuit of his Grandfathers and Father's designs; in Flanders in the favour of urban the sixth against Clement, who called himself Pope in Avignon: in Ireland to tame the savageness of that people; in Scotland to repress inroads, and his marrying the sister of Winces●…us the Emperor; I will only treat of such things as caused his ruin, after having reigned 22. years. Certain men were at the first deputed unto him as well for the government of his person, as estate; whose plural authority ensuing to be more of burden than benefit, it was reduced to the person of Thomas Beauchamp Earl of Warwick, chosen to this charge by the unanimous consent of Parliament; but the King herewithal not contented (being by reason of his years unfit to govern, and by reason of his bad Council not apt to be governed) began to alter this ordination, in the person of Richard Scrope, formerly by the Parliament chosen Chancellor of England, a man so void of blame in all his actions, as he was very worthy of the charge imposed upon him. The King amongst the most considerable jewels of his Crown, hath one thereunto inchased by the Laws; that those whose fathers die in the nonage of their sons, fall under his tuition till the one and twentieth year of their age; all their revenue redounding from the aforesaid time to the King, save the third part which is reserved for their education: it now so fell out that by virtue of this prerogative, Richard enjoyed the income fall'n unto him by the death of the Earl of Marsh, and divers others; he in lieu of making use thereof himself, gave them as donatives to many; such gifts being of no validity without a testate of the great Seal, the Chancellor would not give way thereunto, as well in consideration that the King's debts being great he ought himself to make use thereof, as likewise those on whom he did bestow them being men of no use nor merit, were altogether unworthy of such rewards; at which Richard being offended that his profuseness (which by those who received the benefit thereof was termed liberality) should be questioned by an Officer, he forced him to relinquish the office, suspending the nominating of another in his place, that he himself might by the great seal which now remained in his custody, authorise it; lest being withstood by the former, he might meet with the like obstacle by him who should succeed him; and by this means, the door being opened to one inconveniency, it continued so to many others which ensued. Of those who misled this young Prince in his resolutions, five there were who bore extraordinary sway with him, Alexander Nevil, Archbishop of York, a man so well skilled in what belongs to Court affairs, as was not by his Priestly simplici●…y to be allowed: Robert Vere, Earl of Oxford (a young man of no bad inclination, had he not been corrupted by the rise of a great fortune) not without infamy, the only favourite: Michael Poole a violent man, who from the son of a Merchant, was got to the honour of being Chancellor of England, and Earl of Suffolk; he was like a ship which not fit to bear so great sail, oversets: Robert Trisillian, a very bold man, chief Justice, who having made the Laws a snare, and Justice a pitfall for many, was at last served with the same sauce, being by them ignominiously put to death: and Nicholas Bambridge, Alderman of London (one of those Citizens who nobly behaved themselves in the sedition of the Peasants) he had deserved an honourable remembrance, had he not in the affairs of government proved as seditious as they. The King was impatient of being subject to the Laws of minority, as were his subjects, and that his desires should be limited by the Laws, and that himself should be restrained by that authority which did derive from him: he thought the order of the world in Princes did consist in disorder: a defect incident to those years: for youth takes little or no delight in any pleasures which are not seasoned with licentiousness: and he being naturally given to please those who pleased him, did all things against the hair; so to ease himself of that burden, which contrary to his nature he could not uninforced bear: his uncle of Lancaster was the burden which did most molest him: for being the prime man in the kingdom next to himself, all such as daily found themselves oppressed by the insolence or insatiatenesse of the favourites, had their recourse unto him. An aversion which though not good, was not yet without reason, the original thereof being considered. The King had formerly been informed by an Irish Carmelite Friar, that the Duke had secret plots upon the life of his Majesty, and though the accuser had much desired that this business might be kept secret till such time as being made good he might at leisure and with best convenience be attached. The King notwithstanding out of youthful inconstancy did communicate it to two of his Chaplains, at a certain time when the Duke came unexpectedly in: who finding himself not welcomed according as he usually was, imagined that they were talking of him, and therefore withdrew himself into another chamber; the Chaplains doubting their own safety (for the Duke could not but suspect somewhat) advised the King to make it known unto him, which he did. Wherefore calling for him, he acquainted him with his accusation, wherewithal somewhat surprised, he in most humble manner desired his Majesty not to give credit to such people, since so detestable an intention never entered his breast, nor could it be for his advantage; for say he should have such an intention (which God forbid he should) how could he effect it, since by so wicked a parricide, he was deservedly to fall into the hatred of all men? he proffered to prove his innocency by his sword; he earnestly desired that the Friar might be put into safe custody, and if it so liked his Majesty, into the custody of john Holland. This john was brother by the mother side to the King, and consequently void of suspicion, had not his desire of marrying Elizabeth, daughter to the Duke, (which afterwards he did) made him partial: but the King not minding this, granted the Duke's desire. The impression which at first this accusation made in him, was confirmed by the bold behaviour of the Earl of Buckingham (not yet Duke of Gloucester) for entering at unawares into the King's Chamber, he swore by all the Gods to kill whosoever it was that durst say his brother was a traitor (not excepting the King himself) an action by how much the more rash, so much the more deserving a condign punishment, if the times had been such as would have permitted it; or had the Sceptre been upheld by a more puissant arm, than was that of Richard. But the Friar the preceding night to the day which was appointed for judgement, was by john Holland, (to whom he was given in custody) and another companion of his, hanged up by the neck and privy members: And to the end that he might die the more speedily, they placed a great stone in the centre of the Arch, which his body in that posture made; in which manner being the next day found, without further enquiry his body was taken from the prison, and like the carcase of a traitor, dragged up and down the streets of London. This action did no ways advantage the Duke in the opinion of such as did not hate him, whilst to those who had conspired his ruin, it afforded weighty arguments whereby to infuse into the King unremovable suspicions, by the which being for two whole years tormented, Trisillian undertook to free him thereof, by finding some means to put him to death by Law. But this affair (being made known to so many favourites as the King had, and he himself not given to secrecy) came to the Duke's ears, who conceiving that his quality was not sufficient for his safeguard, (his death being decreed) retired himself to Pomfret, a Castle of his own; where fortifying himself, he resolved to have no other Advocates than strength and weapons, in a cause wherein his estate, honour and life was concerned. The Princess of Wales, the King's mother, was then in a Country house of hers; where examining the danger her son was in, being (if not for his own sake, for those that were about him) generally hated; she, though corpulent, hasted and made an agreement between them. But men's minds, like to the earth, abound more in bad then good seeds: for as soon as the bad herbs are weeded out, others spring up in their place, as happened in this affair. It may not be amiss for us to give our opinion of the right or wrong of these several parties. The King was young, and wholly possessed by wicked people, who like to thirsty Leeches, endeavoured to drown themselves in the fullest veins, they lived not save in the death of others; nor were they enriched but by other men's loss and confiscations. They thought belike, that great men were like Eagles feathers, which do corrode those of other birds, that therefore it behoved them to rid their hands of the Duke. He on the contrary was not without his venom; his hatred increased the more, for that for his Nephew's fault, he seemed to be torn in pieces by the meaner sort of people, a provocation sufficient to make a man of his quality undergo whatsoever excess: which that he did, the death of his accuser may serve for an argument; for it was not likely that he should fear danger, being innocent: he was great of himself, strengthened by the authority of his brethren, by his dependants and followers; not being to be judged but by his Peers. And though the Court might have a great part in them, yet not so great as was to surmount his share; hatred of favourites being in all men of more force, than the hopes of amending their own conditions by so unworthy means. On the other side, it may be that the Friar wrought upon by mighty promises, had slandered him, he not being likely to have pried into so secret a business, whilst others knew nothing thereof; being himself neither of the privacy, nor family of the Duke, and it may be not known by him: but if it were so, the Duke ought not to have ended the question by violence, nor ought his violence to have been authorised by impunity; what was this but to assure unto us the reality of his fault, and that he was emboldened by the King's minority, and secured by his own greatness. At this time did Charles the sixth reign in France, son to that Charles, who for having hindered the progress of the English Arms, deserved to be styled Charles the wise: and who taught by the example of his progenitors, instructeth us, That crazy states are not sustained by hazards, but by good counsel: for rashness is seldom favoured by Fortune. He dying, left store of treasure behind him; and therewithal this Charles, who contrary to him, had likely by his hare-braindnesse, to have lost France. The inward and conformable maladies of these two kingdoms did seasonably abate the edge of their weapons, by short, but redoubled truce; the sympathising conditions of the two Kings requiring it to be so, Richard being but two years older than Charles, each of them alike prodigal, and unfit for government; the one and the other under the government of Tutors: Kings barely in title, their Uncle's exercising that authority; nor was there any difference between them, save that Charles was beloved, Richard hated: and whereas the former failed through want of wit, the other erred only through the corruption of counsel; Charles had exercised the maidenhood of his Arms in the behalf of Lodovick Count of Flanders, against the Flemings, who did rebel against him: And proving therein prosperous, he became so greedy of war, as the truce with England being expired, he coveted nothing more than the continuation of that hatred, his little experience not well advising him, and his years making him presume himself borne for that, which his predecessors never durst undertake. He begun the war in Poictou, 1386. Saintunge and Limosin, under the conduct of the Duke of Burbone. He sent into Scotland to Robert the second, who then reigned, an aid of Lances and Crossebowmen, by john of Vienna his Admiral, to the end that the English being busied on the one side, might be the less able to resist the invasion which he intended to make on the other. For having given order for a great Army at Sleus, and for another in Bretanny, he intended himself in person to attempt the conquest of that Kingdom. Burbone took many Forts and other places in those Provinces: But the Admiral was but badly received in Scotland▪ he found not the King at Edinburgh, his usual place of residence; for he cared not to be found there, as esteeming the coming of those people burdensome. He very well knew King Charles his humour, and believed that for some whimsies of his own, he would put upon him the necessity of war, which Scotland useth not to undertake but upon good conditions, occasion and advantages: But things were not as the King believed; for Ambassadors having been sent to him the year before from France, to acquaint him with the truce made for one year with Richard, wherein he was likewise comprehended, some of the Council had treated with them, that if the King of France were resolved to send over to them a thousand horse, five hundred Crossebowmen, and Arms for another thousand, they would trouble England: which being by them understood as a thing resolved upon, they were come without more ado, with the men and Arms required: They brought no horses along with them, to avoid trouble, thinking to find enough there; but Scotland being then, according to its own wont, not as now, furnished with what is necessary, and with much of superfluity, had not horses wherewithal to furnish them, they were forced to fit themselves with horses at excessive prices. The King being returned, the Admiral delivered his Embassage; the which being seconded by such as thought to better as well their private as the public condition, upon the hopes that England being set upon on both sides, would in likelihood be lost, King Robert could not resist the importunity of his people. So as his royal will being published within a few days, 30000 fight men appeared under their Banners. With those, and his own men, the Admiral entered Northumberland, took there divers Towns, burnt and destroyed the Country; nor had he retired from thence, had he not been enforced by those who were most experienced, having received advertisement that the King was marching towards them with a great Army. The English Army consisted of 68000 men; what Bowmen, what Lances, with pioneers and other attendants, it made up 100000. and as many horse. The Admiral persisted in his opinion of giving battle: when being brought to the top of a hill, under the which the enemy lay, and having seen their order, and their number, he changed his mind: But being resolved, come what come would, to do some famous act, he made this proposition; that since they must of necessity quit the field (which without much rashness could not be made good) they might do the like as the enemy doubtless would do; to wit, that as the enemy was like to find Scotland without defence, so they passing by the other part of England (likely to want defenders) might by their ransacking of the Country, make amends for what of damage Scotland was likely to receive. This advice being approved of, they came down from the Hills, and entered Comberland, where finding no resistance, they ransacked all the parts thereof; they assayed Carlisle, but unfortunately: for it was defended by many brave Gentlemen. This mean while Richard being entered Scotland, came to Edinburgh; he burned almost the whole Town, but not the Castle, saved by the fort, and its situation. From thence some of his troops passing further, they burned and destroyed Towns, Houses and Monasteries, till they came to Sterling, meeting with none that opposed them; the men of war being gone (as you have heard) into Comberland, and King Robert having retired himself to places of more safety: so as the cattle being driven into the woods, they reaped no profit for all the harm they did, which made them more insatiate in their ruinating the Country; nay had not provision of victual by shipping and cart been brought from England, they could not have found food for one only day in that Country: for being naturally barren, and of set purpose destroyed, there was no●… so much as grass for their horses to be found. The King therefore being necessitated to return, Lancaster propounded, that taking necessary provision along with them, they might return by the way of Comberland, as the Scots had done, and so barring their return, they must needs of themselves fall into their hands. The proposition pleased the Council, and the King himself, and was the only one like to be effected; but when night came, the Earl of Oxford had access to the Kings ●…are, and whispered unto him, that the Duke's ends were to bring his Majesty to the last of dangers. For it was impossible for them to pass over those hills, winter being so far advanced, without great prejudice: that the numerous army required greater store of provision than was to be carried on sumpter horses: that the enemy having ruinated and harased the Country, they were not likely to find straw enough, much less other necessaries. If the speakers Genius much more predominant than was the Kings, was able without such likely arguments to prevail with him, how much more did it now do so, strengthened by these reasons, and former jealousies had of the Uncle: so as the next day, whilst (according to the resolution formerly taken) the army expected to have order for marching towards these parts, the King having in sharp terms upbraided the Duke with disloyalty, for that he durst advise him to the danger of either perishing by famine, or becoming a prey unto the enemy, said that he would return into England the road way; whilst the Duke if he pleased, with such as would follow him, might go into Comberland; for his part, he, and such as loved him, would go the other way. The Duke astonished at so unexpected an entertainment, excused himself in all humility, omitting nothing that might appease the King; nor had this sufficed, had he not been seconded by many Lords, who were witnesses to his conscience. This was the last scene of these Tragicomical distastes; worthy to be so styled, to put a difference between them and those Tragical ones of Gloster: the former ending in words, the latter in effects malign and mortal. He then returned the same way he came; having for his so great expense reaped no other fruit then the breaking of Charles his designs. The Admiral according to his instructions, was to have wintered in those parts, that by renewing the war in the Spring, he might facilitate the invasion which Charles was to make on the other side: but it was not in his power to effect it, both man and horse being brought to that pass as they had not whereon to live. Those who had most money could find nothing to buy: and those who would have sold their horses, or any thing else to have supplied their wants, could find no chapmen: to tarry all in one body in one place, was impossible; to divide themselves dangerous; the peoples hatred being like lightning, a forerunner of tempests, there was not any who either could or would carry there. The Admiral understood this very well; he intended to give the most necessitous leave to depart, and to promise the rest speedy supplies of money: but those who had leave to be gone, were not suffered to embark themselves; they would neither suffer them to tarry, nor to be gone. The Scots exclaimed that 'twas they that had made the war; that their country was ruined by reason of them; that they had done more mischief than had the English; that they had trodden down the corn, cut down trees, and as if they had been in the enemy's country, lived only upon rapine; for which they required satisfaction: excuses or were not found, or not admitted of. The Admiral was at last constrained by public proclamation to engage himself to give satisfaction to all such as pretended to have received injury by his men. The debt being agreed upon, he embarked his men, tarrying himself in Scotland, till such time as he received monies, wherewith he satisfied the creditors, and so departed unsatisfied himself. This was Charles his first adventure, wherein meeting with a rub, it made him the second time stumble against a yet harder stone. The Admiral being returned, confirmed in him the resolution of his imaginary conquest; assuring him that the whole people of England exceeded not 60000. Archers, and 7. or 8000. Lances; a slender defence in comparison of what forces were for her ruin mustered in France. But it is usual in nature for the most excellent faculties to be more tender than are the rest; strong and acute sights suffer more by looking on the Sun, than those which are obtuce and weak: therefore if the Admiral, a judicious Commander, failed in his judgement, being dazzled by the splendour of so many ships, engines, and Princes as were gathered together at Sluice, he ought to be pardoned. Some are notwithstanding of opinion that France would never have dreamt upon any enterprise on England, had it not been by his persuasion; and that the Duke of Burgundy (by the death of his wife's father, now Count of Flanders) desiring the suppression of the English, who had fomented the rebellion in those provinces, made him give this advice, which was praised of all save the Duke of Berry, though he durst not make public opposition, seeing Charles was inclined thereunto. Others write that the Duke of Burgundy's intentions were not to hazard the King in passing the Seas; the landing being difficult, and more difficult to keep himself there when he should be landed; the people considerable by reason of their number, and valour; the comparing of these with those who had formerly conquered them equivocal: that at the present they were governed by one only King, whose hatred was not to be put in balance with the hatred they bore to strangers: that they were passionately lovers of liberty, abhorring the French nation; and a country in which (grass excepted, which as in a perpetual April is always there green) they would find nothing; not occasioned by barrenness, but providence: and that there being neither Castle, nor other place wherein to settle, it was to be won by inchmeale, upon the uncertainty of fortune, and battle; any one of the which being lost, (succour being far off, subject to delays, tempests; and winds) the victory would no longer be the thing in question, but the safety, life and liberty of the King, Princes, and people; that battles had little less than lost France; the which was by Charles the wi●…e returned to its former lustre, not by fight, but by temporising; moreover, that there they had neither partakers, nor intelligence; without the which those who in preceding times did, would not have attempted it: that his true design was to hinder Lancaster's journey into Spain, so to secure that State to john King of Castille, a design in consideration of so immense an expense, more than unworthy the refined judgement of that Duke. But whatsoever the matter was, it is hard to reconcile Writers, tedious to dispute the business: therefore what really appears, agreed upon by all sides, shall be the current of our discourse. All these preparations were not of force enough to divert the Duke of Lancaster from his intended journey; nor the apprehension thereof sufficient to make England detain him; which, on the contrary side, furnished him with shipping, men and pay for six months, nor was Richard less liberal to him in favours; the desire of having him gone, was of more force with him, than the fear of whatsoever foreign forces. He would have him honoured like a King: he gave him a Crown royal: his wife Constance being by the Queen presented with the like, both of them passing rich. This mean while the French Fleet lay in the havens of Flanders, that of Sluice not being able to contain 1267 bottoms: for upon this number all Writers do near upon agree: as many ships as sailed upon the sea from the Straits of Guibraltar to Prucia, were detained for this service, there were numbered of Knights and Gentlemen 20000. as many Crossebowmen of Genowa; the which together with foot and adventurers, made up the number of 100000. the Mariners, servants and other people, made up another number apart. Whosoever had not hired some vessel of his own proper cost, be he of what condition he please, he was allowed no more attendance but one horse and one servant: no unuseful mouths were allowed of; there was no Prince uninvited, nor who invited did not contribute. The King of Spain ships, the Duke of Saxony and Bavaria's Soldiers. The Count of Savoy went thither in person, accompanied by many warriors: the strife in expenses between Princes and great Lords, was very great: To what was necessary they added superfluity: the Masts and Yards gay with streamers, glisteren with gold & azure; incredible store of victuals: there was nothing unprovided for: the price of things were eighteen times doubled: all things were grown to an excessive price; the provisions of the Navy were not touched: what was there daily consumed, was inestimable; warriors flocked thither not unlike a torrent, spending prodigally the certainty which they had, upon the hopes of uncertain gain. The court of itself was sufficient to cause a dearth. The King was accompanied by the Duke of Lorreigne and of Bar: by the Counts of Savoy, Genowa, Saint Paul, Armignae, Longaville, Eu: by the Dolphin of Auvergne, by the Lord Cussi, and by all the Barons and Nobility of France. Constable Clisson did on the other side in Bittanny rig forth a Navy of 72 ships, and that nothing might be wanting to the security and Majesty of so great a King, the woods of that and the neighbouring Provinces, were impoverished, for the building of a City, framed all of boards and rafters; it was compassed about, as it were with a wall, Bulwarks, Loopholes, Casements, and other things then in use in fortification, which might be joined together or taken in pieces, as occasion should serve. The circumference thereof was 3000 paces, the height twenty, and at the distance of twenty paces was placed a turret of thirty paces high, capable of ten defendants, within this circuit in answerable distances were placed lodgings for the King, Princes, and Officers, Piazzaes', Market-places, space for Pavilions; nothing was wanting which was requisite in a strong, commodious, and long-since built City: but all this Fabric, together with five hundred men, being embarked for Sluice, a chance wind arose, which dispersed the Fleet; and three vessels loaden with this Fabric, were together with their Masters and Architectors, driven upon the sands in the mouth of the Thames; the Admiral with twenty other gaining Sluice with much ado. King Richard afterwards caused this fabric be reared up in a spacious place. At the same time came the Duke of Berry to Sluice, much expected many weeks before. He by divers pretences had of purpose prolonged his coming, though he had been daily solicited: he finding their minds perplexed by reason of this loss, which they took as an ill Omen, made use thereof, declaring himself averse to this expedition; that in his opinion the King should not do well to hazard his person, liberty, and estate to the danger of the Seas at such a season as this, (it was now November) much less to the danger of war, in a country where he could meet with nothing but manifest danger: that the relation of the English forces to consist of but 60000. Archers, and 8000. Pikemen, was false; since it was manifest that besides such as guarded the havens, and those who Lancaster had carried along with him, Richard had an army of 100000. Archers, and 10000 horse. This being exaggerated in full Council, were it, or for that he really was of that opinion, or out of a desire to cross the Duke of Burgundy, the chief inciter to this enterprise; or that they were both of one mind (as some believed) to save their reputations, the voyage was put off to another time; wherewith the Nobility were scandalised, but much more the common people, from whom so vast a sum of money had been raised for nothing. The present charge was cast up to have surpassed the ransom of King john, which was very great. Disorders this mean while were not wanting in England, subject to be in ill condition, since the King and people did not agree. This division had strewed strange fears in the minds of many; Richard not ceasing to govern himself according to the will of such as governed him. All things were without order, and done without acquainting his Uncles therewithal. All things passed under the hand of the Earl of Suffolk, by the direction of the Earl of Oxford. A Parliament was called at Michaelmas. Much people were raised out of every Shire, and lodged twenty miles round about London, to the end that they might be ready upon all occasions. So as so great a number being assembled together, and not paid, they must of necessity live by force and rapine; a disorder which if at other times it be of great consequence, was certainly of no small importance now. For the key of military discipline (which is ready pay) if it be not well handled is soon broken: and if men be defrauded, and payments be not made, there is none who do obey, none who do command. For remedy to this inconvenience, order was given that the Soldiers should retire themselves to their own homes, with directions to be ready to return when commanded; whilst the enemy who lay at Sluice, with hourly expectation to transport themselves, needed with a fair wind but one nights sail to effect their desires. But it befell the French as it doth gamesters, they lost for lack of knowing when to set their rest. One of the first things the Parliament did, was the making the Earl of Oxford Duke of Ireland, which caused whispering and dislike in all men. Not many months before in the late Parliament of this same year, he was created marquis of Dublin, and Michael Poole Earl of Suffolk; the King's Uncle's Dukes; the Earl of Cambridge, of York; the Earl of Buckingham, of Gloster; and Roger Mortimer Earl of March (in case the King should die without issue) was declared heir to the Crown. An observation which I chose to place here, as requisite to the pretences of the house of York, the which in their due time will be tried by the sword, none having at any time (to the best of my knowledge) taken possession of a controverted Crown, by the authority of Laws, or decree of Judges. Monies being afterwards required for the present occasions, they were denied with an Han●…bal ad portas; they pretended no necessity thereof: that the Earl of Suffolk's purse was alone sufficient to supply all wants: they accused him of many misdemeanours: they required that his accounts might be seen: the upper house sided with this request; chiefly the Duke of Gloster. The King who imagined to find none who would prescribe Laws to him now, that Lancaster was gone, found he had judged amiss; but being resolved not to suffer his servants be rend from between his arms, he determined (if it be true which is said) to put his Uncle to death; that by freeing himself from so great an obstacle, he might infuse reverence and respect into others. Richard would be feared, believing it to be the only way to obedience: but he was not aware that though Princes ought to clothe themselves with the habit of reverence and respect, the same habiliament is woven with the thread of affection; the other of fear, being made of threads of hatred, and composed of brittle and direful materials. A supper was given order for in London, to which Gloster, together with those who had openly declared themselves enemies to Suffolk, were invited; that by the service of nappery and wine they might be slain; Nicholas Bambre was chiefly employed in this affair, who the preceding year was Lord Mayor of London; but Richard Stone then Lord Maior, infinitely abhorring so great a wickedness, hindered the effecting of it. So as the Duke being acquainted with it, and by him the rest, they contented themselves with their own private suppers, finding them more savoury, than the riotous other. The discovery of this plot was the Colliquintida which distasted the palates of the Uncle and Nephew, and which increased in the common people the hatred of the King, and love of the Duke; affections which though they hurt the former, as concurring causes of not permitting him to live, they did not help the other as not being able to fence him from a miserable death. The King retired himself to Eltham, that he might not be present at the averseness of the Parliaments proceedings: where being advertised that the members of Parliament were resolved not to treat of any other business, unless the great Seal were taken from the Earl of Suffolk, he commanded them to send unto him forty of the ablest members of their house, that he might treat with them, and resolve upon what was most convenient. But to send so great a number being not thought fit, they resolved to send unto him the Duke of Gloster, & Thomas Arundel, Bishop of Ely, with the which he seemed to be content. The Articles of their commission were in chief two; the first, that the King having disbursed great sums of money, they humbly beseeched him to suffer them to take the accounts. The second, that the presence of his Majesty being requisite for the treating and conclusion of business, he would be pleased to remember, that by an ancient law it was permitted to the Parliament men to return home to their own houses at any time when the King (not hindered by sickness) should absent himself for forty days together from the place of Parliament. The Kings answer showed how much he was displeased at such propositions, for without further advice he replied; that he apparently saw the ends of the people, and commons, to tend to rebellion, that he thought not to do amiss, if he should call in the King of France to his aid, since it would redound less to his dishonour, to submit himself to a King, then to his own subjects. The two Commissioners endeavoured as much as in them lay, to show unto his Majesty, that the house of Parliament had no such intention, and that if by misinformation he would needs believe the contrary, that which he had said would neither prove honourable, nor advantageous for him: wishing him to consider that such a resolution was not likely to work such effects, as his passion promised unto him: the people of England being strong enough to defend themselves, and a people which did so much abhor the French, as that they would never endure to be governed by them; whilst on the contrary side, he the King of England, aught to pretend to rule the French: that the evils which from them were to ensue, were likely to fall only upon himself, to his present ruin, and perpetual infamy in after ages. Richard had now the use of his natural judgement, free from wicked counsellors; so as weighing their reasons, he was persuaded to return to London. Suffolk's misdemeanours was the first thing which was handled; they deputed the Duke of Gloucester, and Earl of Arundel his Committees, the judgement which ensued, (as some will have it) was, degrading, confiscation and death, moderated with this caution; If it should so please the King. And according to some others, the loss of his office, a fine of 20000 marks, and the loss of his pension of three thousand a year, which was paid him out of the Exchequer. Upon this judgement Richard again absented himself, not able patiently to endure that he abhorred; he condoled with Suffolk, that his faults had brought such infamy upon him, as took from him all means of defending him. The sentence notwithstanding was not executed, a reservation being therein had to the King's pleasure; leaving him at liberty, they contented themselves with such sufficient security as he gave them. Thirteen men were afterwards chosen, who under the King, should take upon them the government of the Kingdom: of the which number were the two Uncles of York and Gloster, and the Earl of Arundel. An Oligarchy at all times dangerous in a Monarchical government: and which first instituted in the reign of Richard, was afterwards (as harmful) repealed. But examples are not sufficient to ground Laws upon, when the injustice of the Prince is such, as it receiveth Laws from the subject: when their injustice springs from their weakness, and when their weakness proves the nerves of strength and veins of justice to the people; whether being arrived, commanding, they are blind in doing of offence, whilst being commanded, they were Arguseyd in receiving offences: every man cries out, Liberty; a pleasing thing, and according to nature: but to bring others into servitude, is a vice in nature, & more in reason. The tyranny of the Decemviri in Rome was more insupportable than that of Tarquin; and the short government of these thirteen more inexorable than all Richard's reign: so as if we consider things aright, we shall find, that evils have almost always had just beginnings, but contrary proceedings and ends; hatred envy and revenge unmasking those vices which covered by the deceitful cloak of Common-good, were believed to be virtues. The last business, and the only one which gave satisfaction to the King, was the assigning over to the Duke of Ireland, the thirty thousand marks paid in by the Admiral Clisson, for the ransom of john of Brettony, Count of Pointivers his son-in-law. This john, together with his brother Guy, was taken prisoner by john Shandois in the battle of Antroy, the year 1364. The French seconding Charles of Bloys, father to the two young brethren (who died in that battle) and the English john Montford, both of them pretenders to the Dukedom of Bretanny: they gave unto him this money in colour that he should go into Ireland, to take possession of such lands as the King had there given him; but in effect to separate him from him: barring him of all delay, they prefixed unto him Easter for his departure from England. This was the price at which they thought to have purchased his absence; but neither did he see Ireland, nor was the King likely to lose his company, if Fortune did not deprive him of it. This Parliament ended, with the giving of one Subsidy, which was allotted to Richard, Earl of Arundel, to be spent at sea; where having done considerable actions, accompanied with the Earl of Nottingham, he gave to the Duke and others further occasion of hatred; whereby to suppress those virtues which in well-governed Commonwealths use to be rewarded, so to incite others to the service of their Country, by the bait of emulation and honour: a dismal sign of corruption, the bringer in of vice, and forerunner of ruin. The Parliament was no sooner ended, but the King returned 1387. to London, retooke the Earl of Suffolk to his former favour; who, as one condemned, ought not to have been permitted to have seen the King, nor have come where he was, he anuld all that was decreed against him; conniving only at this, that the office of Chancellor should remain in the Bishop of Ely, upon whom it was conferred. And to the end that matters of scandal might never be wanting to the favourites; and that their insolences might witness to the world, the supreme power they had over him, he suffered the Duke of Ireland to do one act of scandal, the which distasted all men. The Duke amongst the chiefest of his honours, married Phillep, the daughter of Ingram Guisnes, Lord of Consi, and Isabel daughter of Edward the third, cousin to the King, a great and noble Lady by her own deserts, as well as birth, not moved thereunto by any inciting cause, but his own pleasure, he resolved to repudiate her, that he might marry one Ancerona, a Bohemian, a Carpenter's daughter, who came into England in the Queen's service. It is to be believed, that he had not taken her, had not Richard adhered to him; and the dispensation of urban the sixth, had not been obtained without the Regal countenance (there being no lawful cause for the putting her away) although it was the easilier gotten, for that the Duchess Phillep, being a Frenchwoman, adhered to the schism of Clement of Avignion. So that it is no wonder if the King were not generally beloved of his people, since that to second the Duke's unlawful humours, he put no valuation upon himself. The Duke of Gloster was herewithal sound nettled; neither did he cloak his anger, though to declare himself therein, was not agreeable to the rules of wisdom: for an open enemy puts himself to too much disadvantage. Easter the prefixed time for the journey into Ireland, was come and gone, the world was to be satisfied. He delayed the time under the colour of making preparations; but not able to put it off any longer, he departed, and together with him the King, who went (as he gave out) to accompany him to the Sea side. Being come to Bristol, they did not put to Sea, but leaving it on the left hand, passed forward into Wales, as if the people had forgotten the journey to Ireland. Tricks and devices the more scandalous and unseasonable, for that they argued some strange alteration. The authority of the governor's troubled his quiet, and the advantage that they had got upon Regal authority, threatened his ruin, they coveted to secure themselves from them: for neither did the Duke intent to go into Ireland, nor the King to part with him, nor the Archbishop of York to stand the shock of universal hatred, nor the Earl of Suffolk to return to the censure of the Parliament, nor Trisillian nor Bambre to give an account of their past actions. Whereupon finding themselves in great danger, they agreed that it was impossible for them to subsist, without ridding them out of the way, who were only able to undo them. A wicked resolution, but now necessary, since they were come to that pass, as nothing but extremes could work their safety. The difficulty of the business lay in the making away of Gloster, Arundel, Warwick, Nottingham and Derby, eldest son to the Duke of Lancaster, who hitherto hath not been named, though the first subject of our Story. They had likewise proscribed many others: with whom they might not have done amiss to have temporised; but all delays were to them dangerous: and treacheries framed formerly against Gloster, made it impossible for them to compass their ends by the same means. The law was thought the safest way, and the more masked the safer. Many there were who had followed the King, not so much out of respect, and to claw the favourite, as for that the air of London, under the blast of the thirteen, not tempered by the propitious breath of Regality, was thought pestilential: They all seemed to make up but one body; yet they were diversely inclined, York, Ireland, Suffolk, Trisillian and Bambre, were all ruled by like interest, the rest not so: The former being in a desperate case in their own respects, the rest not so; unless in respect of them. Trisillian framed ten Articles, whereof the first nine contained only two queres: The first, whether the King being enforced to give his assent to the Acts of the last Parliament, to the prejudice of his Prerogative, might not lawfully revoke them. The second, that if he might do it, what punishment did they deserve who had forced his assent? The tenth was, whether or no the judgement given against Suffolk, was erroneous, and consequently revocable. To this purpose the chief Judges of England were summoned to the Castle of Nottingham, that they might give their opinions in these points, and having given them, subscribe them. Their answers were according as were desired, but they did not all incline to subscribe them; by threats and examples they were drawn unto it. Robert Belenap, chief Justice of the Common Pleas, threatened by the Duke and Suffolk, was the first that underwit them; which when he had done, he said, now I lack nothing but a rope; if I should not have obeyed you, I know I could not have escaped your hands; now that I have obeyed, I shall not scape, being punished by the Barons of the Land: nor can I complain if they so do. The answers of the learned in the Law were, that the King might revoke all as done against his will: that those who were the cause of it, deserved death as traitors: and that the judgement given against Suffolk was erroneous, and consequently revocable. This being done, they thought the worst was passed: the goods of the condemned were already shared; nor remained there any thing save the owner's death, to the taking of possession, the which was diligently endeavoured: besides the Judges of the Kingdom, the Sheriffs of every Shire were summoned thither, for two purposes: the one to know how many men might be found who would fight against the Barons: the other, that if another Parliament should be called, the Knights and Burgesses might be chosen by the king's recommendation. To the first they answered, that the people stood so well affected to the Barons, that they would not take arms against them: to the second, that to choose the Burgesses contrary to the usual form of Law, and liberty of the Kingdom, was not only impossible but dangerous. The few that with an implicit obedience soothed their designs, were commanded to be ready at need. The Duke of Gloster was advised of all these affairs; and fearing lest greater inconveniences might ensue, he went unto the Bishop of London, to whom he swore, that he ne'er had other design, than the service and honour of the King and Kingdom: that his only error was, that he had hated, and still did hate the Duke of Ireland, so singularly beloved of the King; but that he was so far from repenting himself of it, that he desired the King and all the world might know, that his hatred should never cease till crowned with a just revenge: that he was sorry that no revenge was to be found answerable to his offence, to wit the divorce of a Lady, cousin to the King, and niece to him: he desired the Bishop to go to Court, to acquaint the king with his good intentions: to entreat his better opinion of him, and to persuade him to less dangerous designs. The Bishop went, did what was desired, and was graciously heard, and had received as gracious an answer, had not the Earl of Suffolk, who apprehended all reconciliation, marred the matter. These men were like to those, who falling down headlong, lay hold upon some craggy stone, which if pulled out, falls down with them. They kept themselves close to the King, endangering his safety to save themselves. The Earl showed unto Richard, how that the Duke's mind was full of deceit, dangerous ambition, seditious practices, charging him with whatsoever he might do, to the prejudice of his Majesty, as if he had already done it, in such sort, as the Bishop not able any longer to endure so much provoking petulancy, commanded him to hold his peace: he, not accustomed to such commands, asked him why? because (replied the Bishop) you being a condemned man, and one who lives only by the King's mere grace, should not meddle in these affairs. These words did strangely offend the King; who after many and terrible threats, went his way, commanding him to go unto his place of residence, and not to stir from thence without his express permission. The which he forthwith did: for afterward having made relation to the Duke of what had passed, he retired himself to his own Church. Arundel, Warwick and Derby, were those who were most exposed to danger: To these Gloster joined himself, showing that it was not now time to temporize: that force was the only means whereby to work their safety with the King, and to keep the plotters of mischief within their bounds; since that an open war would be more advantageous to them, than a deceitful peace, subject to deceit, danger and suspicion. These reasons being approved, they all withdrew themselves to their own homes, using all the means they could to raise great troops of armed men: the King advertised of their preparations, thought the best course he could take, would be to prevent them, and take from them the means uniting themselves. Whereupon the Earl of Arundel being farthest distant from the rest, and more exposed to danger, he commanded the Earl of Northumberland to surprise him; who taking along with him store of company, came to Rigate in Surrey, where finding him rather in a condition of offending then being offended, he thought he should do better to return without doing of any thing, then by making a rash attempt, discover the reasons of his coming. But the King did not for all this, quit his design: he gave the like order to divers others; commanning, that if he could not be had alive, he should be brought dead. The Earl was ignorant of these plots, but being advertised of them by Gloster, (who had better spies in Court) he traveled with all his followers, all night long, and in the morning came weary to Aringey, where he found the Duke and Warwick, with a great number of Soldier, a rumour was at the same time spread, that the King under pretence of going to Canterbury to perform a vow, would pass over into Fraoce, to surrender unto that King, Calais, the castle of Guines, & whasoever else was in that country possessed by the Crown of England; which, whether or no it were invented to increase the people's hatred, is more than I can say, but he made no such journey; not to free them of suspicion, but for the fear he had of their combination. For their forces were not to be despised, their ends being (as they gave forth) to reduce him to a better and more frugal government: so as apprehending danger, he demanded counsel, not without some signs of fear. Some were of opinion, that he should do well to temporize, entertaining them with hopes of satisfaction. Others thought that this knot was too fast tied, & not to be undone but by the sword. The Archbishop of York was the author of this opinion; but it met with many oppositions. The King could reap nothing thereby but loss; the gates were opened to a civil war: and if amongst blood and dead carcases, the key should perchance be lost, he was not like to meet with them in time, to shut the gate at his pleasure: that if he should overcome, it would be a mournful victory; both friends and enemies being the chief of the Kingdom, and equally his subjects. That if he should be beaten, he had no place to retire unto; his ruin was inevitable, his kingdom, life and liberty being at the stake: Ralph Basset, a Gentleman of quality, said freely, that he would not have his head broken for the Duke of Ireland's sake. But the Earl of Northumberland propounded the giving them a hearing, as the best rosolution in this case could be taken. This advice pleased the most of them: The Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of Ely, Chancellor, were sent to persuade them to present themselves the next Sunday in Westminster, where they might themselves lay open their grievances before the King; assuring them that they should find his Majesty ready to give them a gracious hearing. But they found the adverse party hard to resolve; being by past examples reduced to small belief, and less trust: for where there is neither shame of infamy, nor fear of punishment, breach of promise, craft and treachery, are taken to be terms of wisdom, and things handsomely carried: the which being well known unto the Chancellor, who dealt uprightly in this business, he desired them not to stick at this, since the good and peace of the Commonwealth depended upon this resolution, passing his word unto them, that if there were any thing of fraud intended, he would give them timely advertisement. Upon this security they promised a meeting: but as their suspicions were not vain, so did the Chancellor faithfully keep promise with them: for understanding that 1000 men were laid in ambush to cease upon them at unawares, he advertised them thereof, to the end that either they might not come, or if they came, come so accompanied, as they need not fear danger. Sunday being come, the King wondered that they came not, and understanding the reason, swore he was no ways conscious of it; and commanded the Sheriffs to go to the place of ambush, and to cut in pieces as many as they should there meet: But the ambushers having retired themselves upon the advertisement of Thomas Trivet and Nicholas Bambre their leaders, that care was needless. 'Tis hard to say, whether the King had any hand therein or no, unless they ground their opinions on this, that a Prince who only intends his own desires, values no plighted faith, neither religious nor civil, so as the breach thereof may tend to his own interest; and to him his ends being considered, the miscarrying of these Lords, had been much available; and the not making inquiry after the authors of it, must needs be subject to a bad construction. Notwithstanding all this, the Chancellor forbore not to do all good offices: he mitigated the resentment of this fresh wound, with reiterated lenitives, and procuring them to boot with the King's word, a safe conduct in writing, he secured them a second time, and drew them to Westminster, whither they came well accompanied, relying much upon the fidelity of the people; a security upon such occasions, efficatious, though wavering. The King understanding their arrival, came thither in his Robes, with his Sceptre in hand, and Crown upon his head, environed by Prelates and Lords. His favourites and confidents, upon good advice, stayed at home. Gloster as soon as he was come into the Hall, kneeled down before him, together with his associates. The Bishop, whose office it was, as being Chancellor, to declare unto them the King's intentions, did in a grave manner say; That the King their Sovereign Lord, being informed of their assemblies made at Haringie, forbore to use the way of violence (which easily he might have done) to reduce them to their obedience; that he had put a greater valuation upon the blood of his subjects, and their own particular safeties, then upon the injuries done unto himself: That he was rather pleased to make use of his own grace and favour (the natural Panacea of good Princes) then to apply violent remedies to so grievous a malady: That his resolution was not only to pardon past offences, but patiently to listen unto their grievances, and to remedy them if need should require. They tendering all humble thankfulness, answered: That their assemblies had been made, not with intention of taking Arms against his Majesty, their Sovereign Lord, but driven thereunto out of the necessity of his Majesty's good, and the weal public: That they had taken this resolution to withstand the treacheries plotted against them and the State, by certain traitors, who under pretence of serving his Majesty, intended the subversion of King and Kingdom. Passing by the rest, they instanced in the Duke of Ireland, Archbishop of York, Earl of Suffolk, Trifillian and Bambre. They offered to make good their assertions by the sword, throwing down their gloves as gauges, a thing then in use; and which, in case of difficulty, is as yet sometimes used in England. The King having patiently given them hearing, answered: That he was not well pleased, that from the appeasing of one quarrel, many others should arise; he willed them to be present at the Parliament, which was to commence the next day after the purification of our Lady, where all differences should according to the Laws, be ended. The which being said, he immediately added these words: And you my Lords, what reason did permit you to take up Arms against me in this my Land? thought you thereby to frighten me? could not I have raised greater forces to your destruction? I would have you all to know, that upon this account, I no more value you, than the least Scullion in my Kitchin. These last words being said, not allowing time for a reply, he took the Duke by the arm, and raised him from the ground; and returning to his Palace, welcomed them all with such appearing signs of friendship, as in token of his good will, he called for wine, and did in a familiar friendly manner drink with them. That which was agreed upon in this business, was; That the differences should be decided by Parliamentory justice: That the King should take the parties interessed, into his protection: That the one side should not wrong the other: That in the interim neither side should raise forces: and, to the end, that no mark of infamy might remain upon the forenamed Lords, Richard caused a proclamation to be made, that they being accused of treason by some of his Councillors (namely by Ireland and the rest) for any diligent enquiry that could be made, there was found no treason in them, nor reasons to believe it. Hereupon returning to their own homes (the King's mutability, and the malice of their adversaries considered) they resolved not to dis-band the forces which they had. A deliberation in respect of what ensued, ascribed to too much wisdom: for hardly had they taken their leaves, when the Duke of Ireland went into Wales; where, under the command of Thomas Mullinax, a brave Soldier, and one much followed in those parts, he assembled together five thousand fight men, hoping that when these should be joined to those who were at London, he might be strong enough to make his party good; and thus he marched towards London. On the other side, Gloster, Derby, Arundel, Warwick and Nottingham divided themselves, that they might hinder his passage. 'Twas Darbies' fortune to meet with him. The Duke came puffed up with confidence, with Standards Royal, the King being on his side, and the chief City, if not out of selfe-inclination, by the incedencie of his party, he expected not to be encountered. He persuaded himself that others were as full of fear as he of hope. Being come to Burford, a town in Oxford-shire, he himself was the first that descried the enemy, which stood in battel-aray to hinder his passage. It fared with him as with those which grown fierce upon supposed advantage, turn cowards; if found equal in force, they be unequal in valour. His former confidence ceased, cowardice and fear springing up in the place thereof. Mullinax could by no means infuse courage into him; 'twas bootless to make it appear unto him, that the enemy's forces were inferior to his, that the Earl of Derby was only there, a youth, and till then of no reputation in war. Mountains, though covered with iron, would not have secured him; imagining himself to be (as indeed he was) the only mark whereat those bows aimed, the only quintan those lances addressed themselves against, and that the safety of his men consisted in his flight, since 'twas he, not they, that was desired. Mullinax for all this, could not forbear to give battle. But hardly had the first blow been given, when the Duke mounted upon a very fleet horse, ran away: the river withstood his flight; he found the first bridge cut in two, the other well guarded; despair overcame fear, he took the water, where both he and his horse being born down, he quit his Saddle, swimming not without danger to the other shore. Before he took the river, he had thrown away his Cuirace, Helmet, Guantlets and Sword, in such a case offensive and troublesome weapons; he marched the lighter without them. He came to Scotland; from thence to Holland, where not thinking himself safe (for that Albertus, Duke of Bavaria, the Lord of that Country, was a friend to the King's Uncles) he went to France, and from thence to Lorain, where he shortly after died. This mean while, many of his Soldiers had abandoned their Arms, not out of cowardice, but mere anger: And Mullinax having done all that could be expected from a wise and valiant Captain, perceiving that the Duke was fled, and that part of his men were escaped away, part surrendered themselves; began to think upon his own safety: he betook himself to swimming; but Thomas Mortimer threatening to shoot him if he would not render himself, he yielded upon condition his life might be safe; which not obtained, permit me yet (said he) to die like a man in single combat with thyself, or some of those that are about thee. But as he endeavoured to lay hand upon the shore, Mortimer slew him. A man who deserved to have lived longer, or else to have died for some other cause then the taking up of Arms by the King's commission. No severity was used to the rest. The Gentlemen with their weapons passed under D●…rbies colours, the rest unarmed were suffered to return: no enquiry was made after the Duke, his Arms and horse arguing his being drowned: his carriages fell into the victor's hands: amongst other things, there were found letters, wherein he was by the King solicited to make what haste he could, proffering to live and die with him. But this day's work, through his own fault, put a period to all his favours: he chose rather to live hateful to himself, and abhorred by others, then to embrace the honourable hazard of victory or death. While matters fell out thus luckily in these parts, fortune would completely favour the Baron's desires, by bringing to their hands a post from France, he brought with him a safe conduct for Richard, & as many as would accompany him, to Bullen, where King Charles was to be, to conclude the bargain touching the buying of Calais, and other strengths in those parts for a certain sum of money. Richard being moreover, to do him homage for Guascony, the only province which remained in his hands of all those in France which either by inheritance or conquest belonged to the Crown of England: Essential points to justify their proceedings, and condemn the Kings. They notwithstanding concealed this business for the present, and marched towards London with forty thousand men, where the King intended to keep his Christmas. As soon as the Duke of Ireland's defeat was divulged, the first who fled, were the Archbishop of York and Trisillian: Suffolk went his way disguised in beard and habit; nor was any news heard of him till he came into France. The King retired himself to the Tower, as the place least exposed to sudden dangers. Gloster and his companions came to London on Saint Stephen's day; he lodged all his men in the suburbs: many were flocked thither, not so much drawn by affection, as out of the hopes of sacking so rich a City. The chief Magistrate who feared this, knew not to which side to betake himself: if he should receive the Barons, the King would be offended; if not, the Barons. Small resistance was to be made, the walls without defence, and the meaner sort of people ready to throw themselves into the richest Merchants houses. The present danger prevailed, the Barons were invited into the City, and to their people without, was provision of bread, wine, cheese and beer sent; an opportune remedy: for wanting nothing, and being received as friends, they could not frame unto themselves an occasion of tumult. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop of Ely, and others, who as being neuters, endeavoured peace, counselled the King to give them hearing, to the which he was no ways inclined; his hopes persuading him, that the multitude of people would of themselves grow weary, and so shortly dissolve, and that the Barons being abandoned by their followers, would without further trouble fall into his hands: the which being by him publicly said, and understood by them, they swore they would never depart till they had spoken with him, armed as they were; and this did they more really perform, than did he his threats, which with feare-infusing forces are of no validity. They did as it were beleaguer him in the tower: for the Thames being well guarded, and they themselves making good the City, he had no possible means of making an escape, whereby perceiving the vanity of his own opinion, he yielded to the advice of others, necessity being the chief motive. But it was impossible to bring them together; for neither would he come out of the Tower, nor they enter, for fear of the like treacheries, as in a less proper place, they had not long before had experience of: at last fear found the means: he propounded unto them to send men who might search the Tower; with the which contented, they sent two hundred armed men, who having searched every corner, received the keys of the gates, and so secured their entry: Their compliments were short and cool, as was to be expected in a business of such nature. They first showed him the Letters written under his own hand to the Duke of Ireland, upbraiding him with the breach of his private promise, and public faith, publicly proclaimed: but at the sight of his safe conduct for France, which in the second place they showed him, he grew pale, and not knowing what to say in his defence, burst forth into tears. That 1388. which was then resolved upon, was, that he would the next day cometo Westminster, to take order for his past misgovernment. He would have had them lodge in the Tower with him, but they excused themselves, upon the necessity of their being present with their men. For his satisfaction Derby and Nottingham tarried there. At night when he retired to his rest, those who were nearest about him, wished him to consider, that to go to Westminster would be both shameful, and dangerous: whilst they considered not, that where honour is in question, shame consists not in the eyes but in the mind, which could penetrate the thickest walls: and that he could not meet with greater danger by coming forth, since he had already put himself into the hands of his most hated enemies. But according to his custom, embracing the worst counsel, he refused to go to Westminster: at which the Barons thinking themselves deluded, they sent him word that if he would not come, they would choose a new King in his stead. A more considerable shame and danger, than was the quitting of the Tower, and the doing of what of himself as King, he ought unintreated to have done. Yet all these errors considered, there is no law which permits subjects to make so insolent a protestation. Hitherto their actions had been in some sort justifiable; the State's necessity excused what of violence they had formerly used: but to use such terms to a young King as aught only to be used to an old incorrigible Tyrant, they had neither law for their justification, nor reason for their excuse; since they were chosen Governors for the conservation not extirpation of the King and Regal Majesty; but though God was pleased that his inconstancy should be punished by this affront, and that like a child he should be frighted with the noise of the rod, he was not notwithstanding pleased, that they should hate that in him, which they loved in themselves, that they should fall from justice to severity, and from a juridical government to tyranny: so as both sides having offended, it is no wonder if all of them in their due times did receive alike punishment. The King being by threats brought to Westminster, this proposition was made unto him, that in consideration of many disorders which had happened to the prejudice of his honour, and the good government of the Kingdom, by the infidelity of certain traitors that were too familiarly about him, (to the end that more the like might not ensue) he would be pleased that they might be banished the Court, and his presence. To the which, he (bereft of all acts of will, especially such as tended to contradiction) did much against his will, give consent; grieving that he was to lose their company who he entirely loved, and esteemed his only faithful advisers; the chief of these were three Prelates: The Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Durham his Treasurer, and the Bishop of Chichester his Confessor. Three Barons, Zouch, Burnel, and Beaumont; five Knights, many Ladies and Gentlewomen. To boot with their banishment, they were to give in bond for their appearing at the next Parliament, to answer to such things as should be alleged against them. Of the three Bishops, York and Chichester, were freed from this engagement, for they were formerly fled. Many others of all conditions were imprisoned, Priests, Gentlemen, and Lawyers: of the which the most considerable were Simon Burle, and Nicholas Bambre. The day appointed for Parliament being come, and the Judges having ta'en their seats, they were all (one only excepted) committed to prison; for that in the preceding Parliament they had given their votes for the legitimacy of the election of the governor's; and in the Castle at Nottingham, had subscribed to the Articles of Trisilian, to the contradiction of what they had formerly done. Those who had absented themselves, were cited to appear. The Duke of Ireland, the Archbishop of York, Earl of Suffolk, and Trisilian, were summoded to answer to such Articles of Treason as should be objected unto them, by Gloster, Derby, Arundel, and Nottingham: and that in case they did not appear during the sitting of that Parliament (which continued from the Purification to Pentecost) they should be for ever banished, and their goods confiscated. Trisilian, relying more upon his wariness, than a wary man ought to do, was betrayed by one of his servants, and taken in a house near the Parliament, whither with confidence he had retired himself, that he might the better discover the daily passages. He had the face to deny himself, having so transformed himself, as he was almost not to be known. After much mockery, he was hanged. Bambre who was his companion in actions, was the like in fortune: he had his head strucken off with a hatchet, which he himself had caused be made to behead a number of people, whose names were found in a list about him. Many others went the same way. But the death of Simon Burle was thought less justifiable than all the rest. This Simon was nobly borne: john his father was Knight of the Garter, and his Uncle Walter Burle was one of the first to whose charge Edward the third trusted the education of his son Edward, with whom this Simon being brought up under his Uncle, he proved so full of worth, as the Prince thought he could not commit the government of his son Richard to a more deserving man. A choice not to be slighted, being made by such a Prince. In this his charge he knew so well how to comply with Richard's inclination, as that when he came to the Crown, he raised him to great honour, making him Knight of the Garter, Chamberlain, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Constable of Dover Castle, and Privy Councillor. Some say he made him Earl of Huntingdon, but I find not this made good. The reasons of his ruin were, his sumptuous living, the sincerity of his mind, and the places he enjoyed; by the first, having exceeded all former precedents for magnificency; he drew envy upon him by his sincerity, he made Gloster his enemy, for he unfeignedly loved the Duke of Ireland; the which if it were a fault in him, let who will, judge; certainly, a true affection and friendly faith, (things so seldom seen in Court) ought rather to have procured praise then blame: his places, the last in order, but first in effect, was the axe that slew him. The Duke not being able to make any pretence unto any of them, neither for himself nor any other, save by his death; the faults which were laid to his charge, were, the wasteful spending of the King's treasure; the converting of the soldiers pay to his private use; his having sent great sums of money to Dover Castle, from whence he had by night conveyed them into Germany; that upon the bruit of the coming of the French into England, he had used means to the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury, that the rich monument of that Church should be put into his hands, under pretence of keeping it safe in Dover castle, but in effect to send it as his own into Bohemia: to the first charge he wanted no defence, for there were so many through whose hands the King's moneys passed before they came to him, as that he had no part therein, save what the King in bounty gave him; for what concerned the soldiers pay, he was not allowed one that might reckon with him, and make even the accounts, whereupon he was found in arrere 250000. franks; he on the other side demanded satisfaction for his expenses in his journey to Bohemia concerning the King's marriage; but this not being granted, he required time for payment, which was likewise denied him: for the transportation of treasure, there was no proof made of it: that he was a friend to the Duke of Ireland (as hath been said) might well increase his danger, but not his fault; for what concerned the tomb or monument, who can tell whether his intention was rather to send it into Bohemia, then to keep it safe in Dover castle, as the occasion required, and his words witnessed. Justice ought not to punish a fault not committed, for that it might be committed; nor ought a Judge condemn a man of a mental conception not expressed; for that such a thing might have been imagined and put in execution: two things make much for his innocency; that he was beheaded on the sudden, by the sole command of the Duke of Gloster, without any legal proceeding; and that the Earl of Derby had endeavoured his freedom, insomuch, as that he grew to high terms with the Duke. Walsingham accuses him for having consented to sell Dover castle to the French: when the King should give him notice that he was proud, arrogant, an oppressor of the poor, a despiser of the Church, a fornicator, an adulterer; but he rather spoke like a preacher, (being indeed of the Clergy) then as an historian: for the surrendering up of Dover 'twas one of these popular errors which in the fall of great men, disperse themselves amongst the common people: it doth not appear that the King would have sold Dover to the French; nor is it likely, that he had any intention of giving them so principal a place in England, whilst when he would have sold Calais, and the adjacent places, he reserved unto himself the Duchy of Gascony; nor did the letters which together with the passport were intercepted, make any mention thereof. As for pride, arrogancy, and the neglect of the poor, they are evils much practised, against such as from a low beginning, are raised to great preferments. If on the contrary side, he had been to have showed unto us, what store of humility, meekness and charity he had found amongst such who from a low beginning have arrived at great preferments (though the world be not quite void of virtue) he would have been more troubled in finding of them out, then in finding out a piece of paper wherein to make a short Catalogue of their names. Besides, though such sins may deserve blame, yet they deserve not death, being a fitter subject for the Court of Conscience, than the Assizes. He was understood to be a contemner of the Church (as I believe) by reason of his pretended sacrilege of the rich tomb, in all likelihood falls: For if the French had landed (as all men had reason to think they would) Canterbury was no ways defended, the loss of that treasure most certain, and Burles providence worthy of reward and praise. For fornication and adultery (say it were true) if the laws were therein severe, not only the Court, but the whole world would quickly be dispeopled. I conclude, that the Duke of Gloster took liberty, & the weal-public for his colour; but the bringing of the King under, & his own particular interest was the soul thereof. The Judges remained for the last act of this Tragedy, who as the last imprisoned, so were they the last punished; they were as well as the rest, condemned to die: but the Queen begged their pardon, since they were enforced to subscribe the Articles: they were notwithstanding banished in perpetuity, having only so much as might suffice them for livelihood allotted unto them out of their confiscated goods: a good fortune which Burley met not with; for he was beheaded before the King had any notice thereof, otherwise he had not died; which when he understood, he uttered against Gloster what ever affection, passion, or reason could dictate unto him. But this Oligarchy did not long continue: for it began but a little before the last year of Richard's minority, and ended as soon as he came to full age, the year 1389. The manner of destroying it (whether it proceeded from the advice of others, or from himself) was noble 1383. and generous: he commanded all the Nobility to come to Court, which they did: being all met in the Council Chamber, he was not long in coming thither himself. They all with nuch expectation longed to hear what he would say; when being set in his chair, and looking round about him, he asked them how old they thought he was? Answer was made full 21. If so (said he) in reason my condition should not be worse than is the condition of my subjects, who by the laws are at those years exempted from guardianship, and are admitted to the managing of their own affairs. Hitherto I have been a ward; being now no more so, I renounce the being governed by you, intending hereafter to govern my person and my affairs, as best shall please myself. And to the end that from that time forward, they might hold him for a free and absolute Prince, he forthwith took their offices from some of them, and conferred them upon some others: breaking the ice by the change of Chancellor. The Archbishop of York, formerly Bishop of Ely (for when Nevil was banished, he removed to that See) kneeling down, did readily deliver up unto him the great Seal. He likewise changed the Lord Treasurer, the Clerk of the Signet, and the Judges, he removed the Earl of Arundel from being Admiral, and conferred that place upon the Earl of Huntingdon, brother by the mother's side to his Majesty. He put the Duke of Gloster, Earl of Warwick, and others from the Council Table, naming new Councillors in their places: And not yet fully resolved whom to choose for Chancellor, he carried the great Seal along with him to his Chamber, where pitching upon a choice, he returned back, and gave it to William Wickham Bishop of Winchester; a favour which he unwillingly received. All this passed quietly on, no words proceeding from any one, although the kingdom, a body then ill affected, passed but from one ague fit to another. At the end of this year the Duke of Lancaster returned to England, 1390. having spent three years abroad. The mortality which fell amongst his people, caused by the excessive heats in Spain, forced him to retire into Gascony, where having begun a treaty with the Duke of Berry, to give unto him for wife his daughter Catherine (she upon whom the pretence to the Kingdom of Castille fell after her mother's death) he thereby raised such jealousies in john the first, who then reigned, as that the said john demanded her for wife unto his eldest son Henry, (who was afterwards the third King of that name) a youth of but ten years of age, though Catherine were nineteen years old: Upon these conditions, that he should pay unto him for the present, 200000 Nobles, and 10000 marks yearly during the life of the Duke, and his wife Constance, mother to Catherine: That he should assign over unto Constans●…, Guadalajara, Medina del Campo, and Olmedo, that she might enjoy the fruits thereof during her life: and that the espoused Princess should be styled by the name of Princess of Austria; the sons of those Kings, though their eldest, till then being only styled Infanti. The two on the other side, renounced all their pretensions to those Kingdoms. The Duke had before this, married his daughter Phillep, borne unto him by his former wife, to john the first, King of Portugal; having the good fortune to place them both, in a like country and dignity. His coming into England happened in an opportune time, for the King having summoned the Nobility to Redding, (where he than was) some strange alteration was doubted, the ill will he bore to many being considered: the Duke did so behave himself, as sweetening the King, they were all well received, and contentedly dismissed. But the King's jealousies of him not ceasing, being likewise displeased with his return, he by the assistance of the first Parliament (to the end that he might again be gone) gave him the Duchy of Aquitany, together with all the honours, incomes and prerogatives, which of old did belong unto that Dukedom, and which for the present were enjoyed by that Crown; investing him with the accustomed badges of golden rod, and ducal Cap, upon the mere tye of simple homage. Richard was not straight handed of what he possessed, but mainly addicted to his own will, with the which rather than to have parted, he would well nigh have parted with his kingdom. Insomuch as fearing lest if Lancaster should join with Gloster, he might give him enough to do, To free himself from an imaginary obstacle, he weighed not the essential impoverishing of the Crown, of its richest Jewel. And if the effects did not follow, it was not for lack of his good will, but the good will of the people of that Duchy; who being obstinate, would not contrary to their privileges, be dismembered from the Crown of England; neither did Gloucester's siding with him (though extravagant) any thing at all avail; which did not proceed from brotherly affection, as he would have it conceived, but for that Lancaster being present, his authority was the less, who did pretend to be the only director in the government of affairs. He was not troubled at the eldership of his other brother, the Duke of York, since that he chiefly intended his private pleasures. But Richard was deceived in Lancaster's intentions: for it is not always good to judge of things present by what is past. For as in his departing from Spain, he merited to be esteemed one of the most valiant and wisest Princes that did then live; so at his return to England he deserved to be held a peacemaker: experience and the incommodities of war, having made him desirous of repose, and changed or moderated his disposition; the which was plainly seen in him the short time that he lived: since that he did not only tolerate the being denied by the Gascones, but did patiently endure his son's distastes and exile: not being moved at whatsoever accident, save his brother's death; the which he notwithstanding suffered, whilst if he had had like ambition as formerly, he might not have been destitute of hopes; the King being mightily hated, he as much beloved: And though the putting of his brother to death, might be justifiable, the manner thereof was such as could not be denied to be unjust, cruel and tyrannical. The King was no sooner come to age, but he was informed that the 1391. Duke of Gloster had raised forces against him; the which being found false, he would not suffer him to justify himself, but enjoined him silence: were it either that he might keep this plea on foot against him, or to free his accusers from punishment; the three next years passed peaceably on, the peace of France being on both sides earnestly endeavoured, but the reciprocal pretensions and stoutness of both parties made it impossible to be concluded. Richard did desire it, and the difficulties which the French met with for matter of war, made them likewise desire it as much, if not more. Charles his indisposition continued, as likewise the Uncle's discords, each intent to their own private designs and interest, so as not able to conclude a peace, they continued the league one year longer, the which (the state being in quiet) afforded Richard leisure to live according to his own inclination, which was such as had he not erred in the extreme, could not have been better, but the splendour of prodigality is like that of lightning, which consumes and bears down whatsoever it meets withal, he kept the greatest and noblest Court of any King in Europe. His subjects led by his example, dreamt not of frugality (a ver●…ue not much known in England) but gave themselves over to luxuriousness; great was his excess of diet, the pomp and bravery of his Court in apparel unimitated, the number of his servants exceeding all belief, 10000 men fed daily of his bread; the Queen had 300. women which belonged to her service, 300. was the number which belonged to the kitchen: when he went to Ireland he made him a horseman's coat which cost 3000. marks; according to which if you proportion all other expenses the sum will not be to be estimated. He proclaimed Tilt and Barriers, Princes and Cavalieres from all parts flocked thither, who were all defrayed during their being there, and presented at their departing. In his private family he knew not how to deny any thing; he granted whatsoever was asked. The easiness of obtaining favours, embased their value: for favours are then greatest, and most to be esteemed of, when they are conferred with most judgement, and lest expected; so as his ordinary revenues not sufficing, he was enforced to use extraordinary means. His immoderate affection to his servants, his Uncle's tyranny, and people's hatred, not able to undo him, his immense prodigality made the last despair, without the which he could not have been ruined; being in some necessity for lack of money, & willing perchance by a little to try whether he might rely on a greater sum upon occasion, he desired to borrow of the City of London a thousand pound; an inconsiderable sum for such a King, and so rich a City: they notwithstanding honested their denial; with pretending not to have so great a sum; which answer, though discourteous, was not injurious. But an Italian Merchant offering to lay down the money for them, he was so cruelly beaten, as that they had well nigh slain him: so as the affront reflecting upon the King, who neither in justice nor reputation could sit down by it, As he was meditating upon revenge, he met with a second insolency, more cruel and more insufferable. The Bishop of Salisbury, Lord Treasurer, was then at the Court at Windsor, having left the greatest part of his household at London. It happened a man of his desirous to sport himself with a Baker, who passed by with a Basket full of Bread, took a loaf out of the Basket; the Baker hereupon giving ill words, he broke his head: the common people would have laid hands upon this man, but being defended by his companions, he got into his master's house: they beset the house, and were ready to have set it on fire, had not the Lord Maior and the rest of his brethren; come in; the people demanded the delinquent, threatening fire and sword. The Bishop's servants denied to deliver him, pleading the privilege of Ecclesiastical immunity; and certainly much mischief would have been done, had not the Mayor, what by authority, what by fair speeches, appeased them; showing them that faults, how great soever they were, ought not to be punished in such a popular seditious way; for such justice would be more erroneous than any other fault could be. The Bishop being advertised hereof, made his present address unto the King, accompanied with as many Prelates as were then at Court; he so aggravated the business, as that happening at the same time, when as the Italians wounds were as yet fresh, he gave order for the imprisonment of the Mayor, and rest of his society, as all equally guilty; not for that they were authors of this sedition, but for that having behaved themselves insolently before, they had given example to the common people to do the like. Nor yet herewithal contented, he bereft the City of all its privileges, and wholly overthrowing the fabric thereof, gave the government of the City to a Gentleman that was his servant: nor did he lessen his resolution of punishing them, though they were interceded for by many, of the which the Duke of Gloster was the chief: But being importuned by so many, he suffered himself to be persuaded to go, accompanied by his Queen, to London; where being met with shows & arches triumphal, and richly presented, as if it had been the first day of his coronation; he restored the City to its former condition, the Mayor and other Ministers to their former dignities, and recalled the seats of justice from York (whither to their prejudice and disgrace they had been put over) but upon this condition, that they should pay unto him ten thousand pounds Sterling, for the charge he had been at in reducing them to their duties, which was the chiefest cause of alienating them from him. So now the thousand pound which was at first but desired to be borrowed, and was denied, grew to ten thousand pound by way of Fine; their presents and other ceremonies at the making of his entry, having cost them as much, without receiving any thanks or acknowledgement. This mean while the league drew to an end, wherewithal neither of 1393. the Kings were well pleased. The Dukes of Berry, and of Burgundy were sent to Bullen, in the behalf of the French; and the Dukes of Lancaster and Gloster in the English behalf; where meeting with the former difficulties, they agreed upon a truce for four years, wherein they comprehended the King of Scots, which was afterwards a step towards the long truce and affinity which ensued. This year did Queen Anne die, as likewise the Duchess of Lancaster, 1394. the Countess of Derby, and the next year the Duchess of York, as if Fortune had conspired to make almost all the Princes of the blood, accompany the King in his widowership. Richard was sensible of her death, (as being affectionate enough) but did not for all that alter his resolution of going personally into Ireland: as neither did it divert Lancaster from going to take possession of his Duchy of Guascony. The King passed over into Ireland with an Army of thirty thousand Bowmen, and 4000 men at arms, where in nine months he won more than did ever the famous King Edward, his grandfather; who having at the same time to do with Scotland, Flanders, Normandy, Brittanny, and Guascony, could not fix his thoughts only upon this nation, as Richard might do, who made his way rather by dexterity, than force. For the Country being full of woods and marish grounds, not well stored with provisions, the inhabitants accustomed to poverty, to the inconveniencies of the air, to living in Caverns, to the passing over Bogges, and commodious conveying of themselves from one place to another, the conquering of them was likely to have proved a tedious and troublesome business. The which fore-seen by him, he endeavoured to win them after a new manner. He paid the Soldiers punctually, to the end they might not be necessitated to injure the Country; he made much of such as yielded themselves, and leaving for the present the Arms which he and his predecessors had wont to bear in their Shields, he took those which were borne by Edward the Confessor, placing them in his Standards and Seals: and reaped his ends thereby; for by this means he purchased their love; the memory of that holy King being extraordinarily reverenced by the Irish. By such like cunning as this, people who are more led by blind imaginations, then by the truth, are usually deluded. This is one kind of natural not prohibited Magic, which by timely applying the Prince's actions to the people's humours, works wonderful effects without the effusion of blood. This Ireland was commanded by many petty Kings; almost every Province had its particular Prince: he drew four of them to his obedience, 1395 and by the example of his honourable treating of them, had drawn all the rest, had he not been by his Prelates desired to return, to remedy the troubles which the Wiclifs opinions had raised up in England. Whence it may be gathered, that had he not been naturally given to listen unto bad advice and flattery, he would have proved a good Prince. The Duke of Lancaster was received in Guascony as the Son and 1396 Uncle of a King, but not as Duke of Aquitany: he with much modesty showed them the donation which his Nephew had given him, and did with as much patience endure the not receiving of it: He moved, that Ambassadors might be sent into England, giving them his word, that he would approve of what should be there agreed upon, though to his prejudice; the which was done. The points which opposed the donative, were two: The one pertaining to Justice, the other to reason of State. That which belonged to Justice, was, the preservation of their privileges. The Kings of England were obliged to keep the Dukedom of Aquitany perpetually united unto the Crown: they had deprived themselves of any power of dismembering it, giving it away, or of giving it in fee-farm to any whosoever, were he or Son, Brother, or Uncle to the Crown. They swore at their coronations, to maintain these privileges, and did authorize them by letters Patents, and great Seals. Richard had sworn the same, and had given them letters Patents to the same purpose; but he had forgot it, being very young when he did it. The point of State was; that the successive Duke's contracting affinity with other Princes, (which must of necessity ensue) as namely with Burgundy, France, Normandy, Brettany, Fois, Navarre, Castille and Portugal, they should in process of time divest themselves of all interest and shake off the friendship of England, and the subjection thereunto. The reason of their privilege wrought much with Richard; but this last consideration broke the neck of all the favours therein intended to the Duke, for all that Gloster could do to the contrary, who left nothing unattempted, whereby he might keep him aloof off. He annulled the donation, and recalled the Duke, receiving him at his return with more honour then good will. This business being ended, there remained nothing of importance, but the providing of himself of a new wife, not any daughter being then to be found amongst his neighbouring Princes. Navarre had daughters and sisters too, but Richard did not incline that way. The Duke of Gloster had a daughter marriageable; nor could any thing more acceptable have befallen the Kingdom; but the being his full Cosen-german, served him for a justifiable excuse: for if bare consanguinity had emboldened the Duke so much to molest him, what might he expect from him when he should be likewise joined unto him by so near affinity as to be his Father-in-law. But if this was the cause why he would not marry her, he was deceived: for this was the only means to have made the Duke on his side, and whereby to have avoided the evil which did befall him: But the blinded eyes of humane judgement foresee not what's to come, but rather by eschewing meets with those evils which it thought to have left behind. The true cause, as I conceive, was, that as his love was in extremity, so was his hatred; and that consequently the hatred he bore to Gloster, was the reason why he detested this match, not the meanness of blood. The King of France had a daughter between seven and eight years old; here Richard pitched his resolution, though he therein met with three obstacles, all of them of moment: That she was daughter to a King that was his enemy: so young, as that he was not in a long time to hope for issue by her: and that she was formerly promised in marriage to the Duke of Brettanies eldest son. He did not so much reflect upon the first, save what made for his advantage: for detesting war with France, he could not find a better means to settle a peace between the two Crowns, than this. For her years, he did not much value them, since he himself was young enough; and also her being promised to Brettany, he slighted it, since the King of France stood more in need of his friendship, than the friendship of any other. He sent a solemn Embassage to France; and though answer was not presently made, (for time was taken to consider of it) the Ambassadors returned partly assured of success: the King, People, and Council, being all of them well inclined to the business. At this same time, the Duke of Lancaster took his third wife. It so fell out, as that he had three sons and a daughter by one Catherine Roet, the daughter of a King of Arms, she was servant to his first wife Bianca, and he kept her as his Concubine during the life of his second. The desire he had to make his children legitimate, and her good conditions (though not nobly borne, as he) made him resolve to marry her; and not unluckily: for john the Duke of Somerset (who was he alone who of the three brethren had any issue) was Great-grand-father by the mother's side, to Henry the seventh, who put a period to the civil wars of England: He did legitimate them, and his succeeding marriage by Act of Parliament, and by ratification of Pope Boniface the ninth, from whom he obtained a Bull to that effect. I was not willing to leave out this particular in this place, as necessary for what we shall hereafter meet withal. The King's marriage was likewise this mean while concluded: and since a final peace could not be concluded on, in respect of many places which the English pretended unto, a suspension of Arms for thirty years was covenanted, with caution that both sides should peaceably enjoy what at this time they were possessed of. A business which did so highly incense the Duke of Gloster, as the King did divers times fear lest he might upon this occasion raise a rebellion; since the people depended much upon him, and were not very well pleased with this marriage, nor truce; he went in person to the confines of France, to receive his wife, as likewise did her father, to deliver her up unto him. Being with much content parted, he caused her to be crowned at Westminster, not being 1397. yet fully 8 years old. Shortly after came the Count Saint Paul into England, sent by Charles to receive the oath of truce; a man of a working spirit, and who was husband to jane Holland, sister to Richard by the mother's side. The King discoursing with this man, complained of the Duke of Gloucester's contumacy, that he was the only man who opposed himself against the match with France, as desirous of war with that Nation, and likely (that not ensuing) to raise a war at home. To which the Count, with a sad brow, replied; That the birth and blood of such subjects, allowing them more authority than stood with the King's safety, was dangerous; that to temporize in cures, made the malady greater: But that as one poison was antidote to another; so dangers could not but by dangers be salved: yet with this advantage, that the former being certain, 'twas a question whether the others would prove so or no: That clemency, when 'twas the offspring of weakness and fear, was always subject to ingratitude and neglect, never to thankfulness and acknowledgement. So as Princes who wanted the Balance to weigh offences, and the power to counterpoise them by condign punishments, might account themselves as already lost. These or the like words gave the definitive sentence against Gloucester's life; for they were fast rooted into Richard's mind, as proceeding from one that was wise, a Friend and an Ally, and who was void of interest. He now wavered no longer neither in respects nor delays, he firmly resolved to put him to death, but had not pitched upon the manner. As soon as the Count was gone from England, he acquainted the Earl of Huntingdon, and of Nottingham with his design; and having with them agreed upon what was to be done, he went out of London one night about Supper time, and rid all night accompanied by a great many armed men; who lying in ambush not far from Plashey, the Duke's house, the King sent Huntingdon to acquaint him with his coming: The message was no sooner delivered, but by the sound of trumpets, notice was given of the King's arrival. The Duke, who was then in bed, threw his night gown about him, and came down to meet his Majesty, taxing Huntingdon of unkindness for not having given him earlier notice. But these complemental quarrels were soon appeased by the King's smiling aspect, who desired him to go make himself ready, for that he must presently, upon some urgent occasion, go along with him to London. The Duchess in her night clothes, entertained the King whilst her husband did on his apparel; who not having leisure to take his usualll train along with him, got on horseback, followed by some few, and giving order for the rest to follow him. As soon as they were come to the place of ambush, Richard spurred on, and the Marshal coming from where he was concealed, took the Duke prisoner: 'twas bootless for him to call upon the King, who seeming as if he heard him not, pursued on his way. The unfortunate man was brought to the Thames, there embarked, and carried to Calais, a fort under the command of the said Marshal; where he was shortly after strangled: or, as many will have it, stifled between pillows. A business which clearly demonstrates unto us, that their number is but small, who falling into extravagancies, upon confidence in the people, have not come to miserable ends. And though errors were committed on both sides, it cannot notwithstanding be denied, but that Princes are provoked unto tyranny more by the insolences of particular men, then of their own disposition. For it being dangerous to proceed by the ordinary course of Law with a privileged man, as was Gloster, it behoved Richard to do that by force, which he was not sure to effect by justice; since that his danger was more to be feared in the tolerating of such presumptions, then in the violating of the Laws. And so it had certainly fallen out, had he not done worse: But evils fruitful in themselves, produce multitudes of their like: And honesty, in any one affair, once forsaken, quite banisheth all shame in all succeeding actions. After the Count Saint Paul's departure, the King had received many distastes, which wounding his reputation, had confirmed him in his resolution of putting the Duke to death. Breast, a Fort of great consequence in Brettany, was by the Duke thereofpawned for a great sum of money to Edward the third, upon condition of being rendered when the monies should be paid. It was a place which had formerly fitted England for accommodations of war in these parts. And if Richard had had the same designs his predecessors had, as he had not, it may be he would not so punctually have observed conditions, but as matters now went having received the moneys, he restored it to the owner without further dispute. The Duke of Gloster who no whit abated his blaming of the King's actions, did in bitter manner twit him in the teeth with his restitution, as done to the prejudice and dishonour of the State: the King who thought he had not well understood him (so outrageous was his language) willed him to speak it over again; and he not changing the sense, but saying the very self same words over again, did so much incense his Majesty, as after having showed him that he had done nothing which without infamy he could have forborn to have done, he seemed to his other Uncles to be much greeved thereat; who though they confessed him to be over violent, did yet excuse him; affirming him to be as void of malice, as jealous of the honour of the kingdom; the which he was in so high a degree as that he could not suffer the least diminution thereof, how just soever. Afterwards, when any discourse concerning the King, was offered, he spoke of him as of one degenerate, and without courage; that being unfit for government, the greatest favours that could be done him, were to allot livelihood unto him in some commodious prison. Whereupon his brethren despairing of his amendment, and fearing lest their presence might add to his boldness, retired themselves to their Country-houses; believing, that being left alone, he would be more reasonable. But so far was he from this, as that he fell upon a resolution, which if it were not the cause, was the last pretence of his death: he had as well plotted the King's ruin, as the King his. Hereupon a randesvous was made in Arundel Castle; where a resolution was taken of ceasing upon the King's person; of imprisoning the Dukes of Lancaster and York (to the end that they might not disturb the business) and of hanging the greatest part of all the Privy Council. The chief conspirators were, the Earl of Derby, Arundel, the Marshal and Warwick; and of Prelates, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Abbot of Saint Albon, and the Prior of Westminster. This conspiracy is thus reported by a certain Historian; but I cannot believe it to be true, for reasons which shall hereafter be alleged. The Earl Martial discovered the plot unto the King, and the King unto the Council, which persuaded him to retain the Duke; the which being done, Arundel and Warwick were forthwith imprisoned. And to shun the danger of a popular insurrection, public proclamation was made, that the fore named persons were imprisoned not for any former fault, but for fresh treasonable offences, to be made known the next Parliament, where they should be judged. The Lord Cobham, and divers others, were likewise made prisoners. The mean while the King not knowing how his two Uncles would take this business, furnished himself with Soldiers, and commanded those of his side to come to the Parliament well attended. The two Dukes hearing that their brother was taken, and afterwards put to death, were much afraid of themselves; fearing, lest the King being ill counselled, might take arms likewise against them. Whereupon having assembled together a great many of such as sided with them, they came to London, where they were affectionately received by the people, who wanted only a head to rise in rebellion. But Lancaster's ambition being long since blown over, and York the same he ever was all things continued in their former quiet: many Lords interposing themselves, who persuaded them that the King would do nothing for the time to come without their knowledge and consent; the which he afterwards ill-favouredly performed. When the Parliament was assembled, the faults of those who were imprisoned, were laid open. To disguise the mystery, commandment was sent to Callais to the Earl Martial, that he should present the Duke. Answer was made, that he was dead of a violent fever. And as there was none desirous to sift further into the truth thereof: so did they not demur upon the condemning of him, and the confiscation of his goods. Arundel & Warwick were sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered, as Traitors. The former's punishment was remitted to a single beheading, in respect to his blood: for he was the son of Elinor the daughter of Henry Plantagenet, Earl of Lancaster, who came from Edmund the second son of Henry the third. The other (his life being pardoned, but not his goods) was condemned to perpetual prisonment in the Isle of of Man: for confessing himself guilty, (which Arundel would not do) he was referred to the King's mercy. The Archbishop of Canterbury, accused for having obtained a pardon for his brother the Earl of Arundel, a declared Traitor, (his defence unheard) was condemned to a perpetual banishment: his patrimonial goods confiscated, and a new Archbishop obtained from Rome to supply his place in Church, (who held the place only till the other was called home, no mention was made of the conspiracy at Arundel Castle, which is sufficient to make it be supposed false; since that alone had been enough to have condemned him. False tales were framed to undo the Archbishop, whilst he might have been found guilty of treason in the highest degree. But the wonder wa●…, how the Duke of Lancaster, who was made Lord high Constable for the present occasion, had the heart to hear his brother called traitor; and in the giving of his sentence to call him so himself; whilst being formerly himself accused of treason by the Irish Friar, he was by Gloster more brotherly dealt withal. The which surely happened, either for that where private interest doth prevail, honesty and affection must give place: or else for that men who are politicly wise, had rather trust their honour to the talk of the vulgar, than their goods and lives to the refined sense of supreme authority: the one more plausible, the other more secure. The like befell the Earl of Arundel, who observing that the Earl Martial, who was his son-in-law, and the Earl of Kent his nephew, assisted as well to the custody of his person, as the solicitation of his punishment, said unto them: That others would hereafter be spectators of their misery, as for the present they were of his, whilst in reason it should least become them to behold such a spectacle. The common people believed that he died a Martyr; that the King, haunted with evil apparitions, wished he had never seen him, and that his head was by miracle rejoined unto his body: the belief whereof grew to such a height, as that the King caused him ten days after to be taken by night out of his grave, commanding certain Lords to go see the truth of it. They found his head (as by the headsman) parted from his body, and caused his head & body to be reburied in an unknown place, to the end that the people might commit no more such foolish superstitions. The feast of the Nativity caused a prorogation of the Parliament, which was adjurned to Shrewsbury, where the King created five Dukes. He made Derby Duke of Hereford, Nottingham Duke of Norfolk, Rutland York's eldest son, Duke of Aumerle, and his two brothers, Kent and Huntingdon, Dukes of Surrey and of Exeter. Margaret, the daughter and heir of Thomas, late Earl of Norfolk, fifth son to Edward the first, was created (for her own life) Duchess of Norfolk: He made the Earl of Somerset Marquis Dorset: the Lord Spencer Earl of Gloster, Lord Nevil Earl of Westmoreland, Lord Scroop Earl of Wiltshire, and Lord Thomas Pearcie Earl of Worcester, dividing amongst them the goods of Gloster, Arundel and Warwick, the more to oblige them unto him. The other prisoners were proceeded withal with less severity. He annulled the Acts of Parliament made the eleventh year of his reign. He granted (according to custom) a general pardon, excepting fifty to be by him named; intending by this means to keep them all in their duties: for every one was sure, if they should fall into his disfavour, to be one of the fifty excepted; so as having reduced affairs according to his own will, and rid his hands of those he stood in fear of, he thought he might now do what he list without fear of check; since there was none of so clear a conscience, who had not cause to fear himself. The Duke of Hereford, who from such actions apprehended danger of public hate, finding a fit occasion to speak with the Duke of Norfolk, told him, that he being a Counsellor, and one whom the King did much affy in, he was bound in duty to make him see, that the small esteem his Majesty made of the Nobility, though less of himself (suffering himself to be ruled by people of base condition, and no worth) might likely one day cause unto him some unlooked for inconveniency, since that the people's patience was not long to be relied upon; especially when it is transformed into desperation and fury. Norfolk promised his service therein, seeming well pleased with it, though indeed he no ways liked it. For considering that such like offices were unpleasing to the King, and that his favour was not to be preserved by giving him good advice, but by soothing him, he did in so detestable a manner relate Hereford's discourse, as causing him to be called for, he would have Norfolk to make good to Hereford's face what he had behind his back affirmed of him: the which the one affirming, and the other denying, the lie being given on both sides, Hereford threw down his glove, which Norfolk readily took up; the King appointing them Coventry for the place, and Saint Lambert's day for the time of combat. The two Champions failed not to appear at the time appointed, and had already begun their career with lance in rest, when they were commanded to hold their hands. The King having a long while disputed the business upon the Scaffold (which was sumptuously built for his Majesty to see the Duel) caused proclamation be made, that for good respects his Majesty would not have the combat further proceeded in; and that his pleasure was, that the Duke of Hereford should be banished the kingdom for ten years, upon peril of his life, and the Duke of Norfolk for ever upon the like penalty. It was observed that this sentence was given the same day twelvemonth that Norfolk had caused Gloster to be strangled at Callais. He forthwith left England, and in little more than one year after died for grief at Venice. 'Twas thought that the Kngs' rigour towards him, proceeded from a desire he had to be rid of him: for he having been formerly of the Baron's faction, and having of late wrought himself into the King's favour by the ruin of others, he thought that upon occasion he might serve him as he had done his friend the Duke of Gloster, and the Earl of Arundel his son-in-law. Princes though they do not punish themselves for the evil they commit, punish the instruments of evil, to the end that they may not be thought altogether unjust. The Duke of Hereford, who when he took his leave, in token of the King's good will, was remitted four years of his banishment; parted from England, being generally bewailed, and was well received in France, where the Duke of Berry would have given him his daughter for wife, had he not been hindered by Richard, fearing lest the favour of that Duke in France, and the people's love in England, might prove dangerous. Richard by reason of superfluous expenses, was in continual want; and money passed through his hands as water through a sieve. Continual necessity was the continual fever which caused this thirst in him; the which not able to be quenched by the ordinary revenues of the Crown, nor yet by the extraordinary helps of Parliament, he was enforced to dig new Welles. He borrowed money of all the Lords, as well Ecclesiastical as Temporal, by way of privy Seal, obliging himself to pay them, but never did: The which though it be somewhat hard, yet not sufficient to make subjects take their last resolutions: For particular men do sometimes borrow, and never pay. But the violating of justice under the pretence of doing justice, was that which turned patience to despair. Seventeen whole Shires had almost sided with the Duke of Gloster, at least they were so said to have done. They were all held (notwithstanding the last general pardon) guilty of high treason: wherewithal being threatened, they were compelled to compound for a great sum of money, to take again the oath of allegiance, and the richest amongst them to sign and seal unto a blank, into which the officers appointed for this business, might insert what sum they pleased, a thing able to undo whole families and Shires. The like was done in London to the great distaste of the Citizens. john Duke of Lancaster, this mean while died, and the King took possession of his goods, without any pretence of title, he bereft his exiled son of his inheritance. The which when the Duke of York observed, he thought it was no longer safe for him to stay in Court; whereupon he retired to his own home. But the King being resolved to go himself in person into Ireland, to revenge the death of Roger Mortimer, Earl of Marsh, slain there by the rebels (he who in case succession should want, was the presumed heir to the Crown) sent for the Duke back, assigning over unto him the government of the Kingdom in his absence. This was the last expedition he made: for having left his subjects ill affected, and augmented their distates by his taking along with him great store of provisions without paying for them, he departed with thirty thousand men, and had such good success, as had he not been compelled to return, he would have brought that Island to total obedience. This mean while the Town of London, the Prelates, Nobles, and People (those especially of the abovesaid seventeen shires, who thought themselves worst dealt withal) resolved to call in the new Duke of Lancaster, not only to the recovery of his own inheritance, but of the Crown and Kingdom. They sent express messengers to Cullen, to the end that Thomas Arundel, late Archbishop of Canterbury (who in his banishment made his abode there) might go into France, and persuade the young Duke thereunto; who though he found it a business of difficulty, the dangers considered, as likewise the people's changeableness; yet being brought to live by borrowing, deprived of his estate, and out of hope of ever recovering it by any other means, he entertained the motion; he pretended to King Charles (who otherwise would not have suffered him to depart that he went to see his cousin the Duke of Brittanny, and so with his approbation, embarked himself with some few followers, amongst which number, Thomas son to the late Earl of Arundel beheaded, who not many days before was fled from England, was one. When he was come upon the English coast, he would not land, but coasting along the Country, to discover the people's inclinations, he cast anchor at Revenspur in Yorkshire, where he needed no invitation: for the Lords and Prelates flocked all thither as soon as they heard of his arrival: So as having assembled an Army of sixty thousand fight men, and all places, by which he passed, yielding unto him, he was with great acclamation, and expressions of joy, received into London. The Duke of York, governor of the Kingdom, who at his Nephew's first appearance, had called the Council together, was thereby advised to leave London, and go to S. Alban, where they might gather forces to give him battle. An advice assuredly dangerous: for the head ought first and chiefly to be defended. The forces on the Counsels side, were no sooner gathered together, but that they made a protestation they would not fight against the Duke of Lancaster: for having from the beginning, declared that he pretended to nothing but to what in right did descend unto him from his Father and Mother, every man was of opinion, that since his inheritance was unjustly taken from him, he did justly in taking up of Arms to repossess himself thereof. Hereupon those of the Kings more intimate Council, as William Earl of Wiltshire, Lord Treasurer, Sir john Bushy, and Sir Henry Greene, leaving the Duke of York, the Bishop of Exeter, Lord Chancellor, and the rest, fled to Bristol, in the castle whereof they thought they might be safe. Sir William Bagot, one of the same fraternity, went more advisedly over to Ireland. The Duke of York seeing that it was dangerous for him, and to no purpose to tarry where he was, went towards Wales; where he thought he should meet the King at his return from Ireland. He stayed at Beckly till such time as the Duke of Lancaster came thither, with whom (seeing the King's affairs went so ill) he soon accorded. Lancaster finding by this time his good fortune, went to Bristol, took in the Castle; and those three which had fled thither, were by the mad multitude soon beheaded. This news was long in coming to Ireland, by reason of the horrible tempests at Sea, which for six week's space suffered not a little vessel to pass over. But when it was known, the King did not (as he should have done) make suddenly for England, being advised by the Duke of Aumerle to tarry till his ships, which were scattered, might be gathered together, and such provisions made as were fitting for the Fleet. He caused the two young sons, the one the Duke of Gloucester's son, who died in his return, and the other the son of this Lancaster (who was afterwards King Henry the fifth) to be kept in safe custody in the Castle of Tremni. He sent the Earl of Salisbury for England, with directions to gather together as many people as he could in Cheshire and Wales (his two beloved Countries) to the end that being ready at his arrival (which should be within six days) he might encounter the enemy before his forces grew greater. The Earl departed, came to Wales, and had got together forty thousand good and faithful men; by means of whom, if the King had come at his time appointed, he had either repossessed himself of all again, or had at least given the enemy enough to do; but landing in Milford haven in Pembroke shire 18 days after, he found, that a false report of his death being raised, and his party having fifteen days expected him, they had disbandoned themselves, part of them coming over to the young Duke, the rest retiring to their own homes. Whereupon astonished at so unfortunate an encounter, his courage failed him. And though those who were returned with him, promised to die at his feet, he, contrary to his dignity and reputation, chose rather to lose his Kingdom then hazard his life. A weakness which this nation mightily detests: for the inhabitants thereof no ways fearing death, nor willing to endure the troubles of the mind, chose rather to die, then live in misery. As soon as Lancaster understood his arrival, he left the Duke of York at Bristol, and took his way towards Conaway, where the King was, without either forces or retinue. All places as he went along surrendered themselves, & the town of Chester, formerly so faithful, did the like. The King resolved, not to make use of his soldiers, dismissed them, that he with the less encumbrance might go whither his fears drove him. And for that purpose, he gave order to Thomas Percy Earl of Worcester, the Lord high Steward of his household, to discharge his family, wishing they might be reserved for a better fortune. Others will have it, that Worcester formerly distasted for that Richard had a little before declared the Earl of Northumberland, his brother, to be a traitor, did of himself in public, break the staff of his office, and went unto the Duke of Lancaster, and that upon this occasion the Courtiers did disperse themselves. Those who counselled Richard, were of opinion, that he should go into France, to his wife's father, or else return to Ireland; where (failing of hopes in England) he might furnish himself with foreign soldiers, to make such use of occasions, as time should administer. But that if he would needs tarry in Wales, a country yet well affected unto him, be should do well to pass further into the heart thereof, whilst his presence changing the looks of fortune, some would follow him out of affection, many out of duty; and others by reason of the usurpers scandalous actions. But all their persuasions were in vain: for it is the property of cast down minds patiently to expect the blows of Fortune. And whilst their honour eggs them on unto defence, their pusillanimity is such, as makes them suffer oppression. He adhered to those who showed him that his hopes of France were dangerous: that the assistance he might have from thence, would confirm his subjects in their rebellion, lest they might be by them subdued. That to return into Ireland, would be to no end, since he could not promise himself much from the particular forces of that country. That he should do amiss to hope in the repentance of the English. For if they had out of hate abandoned him, they would persist in their contumacy; as despairing of pardon, having so highly offended him; that foreign forces would be rather harmful then of any use, especially the French. So as there being no hope of help from abroad, and despairing of any at home, his best resolution would be to think upon his own safety; and by giving away what he could not keep, endeavour a safe and private life. These reasons made him listen unto the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Earl of Northumberland, (the one by him banished, the other proclaimed traitor) with whom he agreed to resign up his Kingdom, upon condition he might be permitted to live a private life, and have the lives granted him of eight persons, such as he should nominate. The which being largely promised him by them, & readily approved of by the Duke, they met together, the Duke using all due respects which are requisite from an obedient subject to his natural Prince. Whilst Richard minding nothing but his present condition, did things unworthy of his greatness and dignity, he gave himself up into the Duke's hands the 20. of August 1399. together with all his money, horse and furniture, his money amounting to above a million of gold. The manner of this imprisonment is by others diversely related. They say, that the King despairing of his affairs, sent the Dukes of Exeter and of Surrey to treat with Lancaster, who keeping the former with himself, who was his cousin, and putting the other into the Castle at Chester, did in their stead send the Earl of Northumberland unto the King: who followed by a thousand Bowmen, and four hundred lances, was (when he should be come nigh to Conaway) to make thereof two Ambuscadoes, and passing forward himself with only four or five horsemen, he was under a safe conduct to go into the Castle. That the propositions he was to make, were, That Richard would speak with Lancaster, and satisfy him in two particulars: The one, that process might be made against such as had had a hand in the death of Gloster, and his companions: The other, that he would give him an authentical pardon for whatsoever former offence he had committed against him; that nettled at these demands made unto him as King, in a condition of not denying any thing, he took horse, and the Duke riding before (under pretence of providing his dinner at Rutland) stayed where the ambush was, and where the King with his followers (among the which were the Earl of Salisbury, the Bishop of Salisbury, and the Lord Scroop) were by them enclosed. That when he was come to Flint, the Duke with all his Army came thither likewise; That the Archbishop Arundel was the first with whom he treated; and that having gathered by what had befallen him, that Lancaster was not so simple as hereafter to affy in him, whom he had so highly offended. That punishments, pardons and reformations were but the songs of Sirens; and that his aim was at the Kingdom, he offered to surrender it up unto him. But however it was, he was from Chester sent into the Tower of London. And if in his taking water at Westminster, had he not been waited upon by the Mayor and his associates, he was likely to have been slain before he could have got unto the Tower. Lancaster on the contrary, was received by the City and all the Companies thereof, as King, with processions, applause, and all expressions of joy. A Parliament was called in Richard's name. The Duke took serious advice concerning this affair, with his best friends, particularly with his Uncle of York, who were all of one opinion, That the resignation should be so done as that it might appear voluntary; nor that being sufficient (since his imprisonment would argue an enforcement) that his deposing might be strengthened by act and authority of Parliament. To effect the first of these, divers were suborned, who having formerly been his friends, showed unto him the danger wherein he was, if he did not purchase his life at the rate of the free resignation of his Kingdom. The which being obtained, they fell to the effecting it. The chief Lords as well Ecclesiastical as Temporal, together with the prime Judges and Lawyers, came all to the Tower, to all which Richard with his Robes on, his Crown on head, and Sceptre in his hand, presented himself; and taking his Chair, after some few acknowledgements and excuses of his own misgovernment, he himself read his Surrender; affirming it to be freely done, and without compulsion. He moreover freed his subjects of whatsoever bonds, oaths, fidelity or homage, renouncing all further claim, authority, dignity, or title to the Crown; leaving it free for the time to come, with all the appurtenances belonging thereunto. This being done, he subscribed it: And then falling upon the praise of his cousin, the Duke of Lancaster, he desired them to choose him for his successor; And made the Archbishop Arundel, and Bishop of Hereford his substitutes to acquaint the Parliament with this his request and resignation. And the more to witness his good inclination towards the Duke, he took from off his own finger, a Ring wherein his Arms were engraven, and put it upon the Duke's finger, giving him therewithal his Ensigns of Regality, whereof he had disrobed himself. All this he did, as seeming desirous to lead a private life; though in his disrobing he could not hide his inward grief, at the which there was no so hard heart as was not mollified. The trusties discharged their trust unto the Parliament, which accepted the resignation. And that there might remain no scruple for such as should come after, many Articles were framed, wherein he was accused of extortion, prodigality, tyranny, of having preferred men of base condition to the highest places, of being cause of the imprisonment and death of the Duke of Gloster, and Earl of Arundel, against the rules of Law and Justice; of having kept about him people to destroy him, permitting unto them all insolences without correction. They omitted not his lasciviousness, perjuries, falsehood, loss of reputation, rapine: Maxims of State able to ruin a State, Principals contrary to the rights of a Crown; his cancelling of public writings; his injurious proceeding against the Archbishop of Canterbury; nor any thing else that might be objected to an apparent tyrant. And as such a one he was by all the Judges (deputed for this purpose) declared incapable, and unworthy; and by the votes of them all, deposed from the dignity and title of a King. Insomuch as not contented to bereave him of his kingdom, they would likewise have him therewithal to lose his reputation. Commissioners were deputed to acquaint him with the Act of Parliament, and to renounce unto him all former ties, homage, fidelity, subjection or oath. To the which he made no other answer, save, That not regarding, these titulary circumstances, he hoped his cousin would be his good friend and Lord. I have heard by some, that the lower House did not give its consent to his deposition, the which may very well be true; but Writers do not mention it. In the interim of this inter-regnum, the Duke of Lancaster made known his Titles, by which he laid claim unto the Crown, and was by general applause cried up, King; and installed in his Throne by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York. Thus ended the reign, though not the life of Richard the second; a Prince in many respects worthy to have reigned, if he had not reigned. The end of the first Book. THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND; IN THE LIFE OF HENRY the fourth. The second Book. HENRY the 4th a Prince naturally well given, when he knew himself to be King, began to differ in many Henry the 4. things from what he formerly was: for the usurpation of Kingdoms (a vice in all times blamed yet pursued) if it do not totally destroy virtue, doth at least enfeeble it, or keep it in suspense. It is impossible to contract Matrimony between the Regal Throne and Injustice, unless it be by unjust means, and that the Dowry consist of any thing save cruelty and rapine. All things here below have mediums conformable to themselves, and in the order of Nature subordinate to their Genus, the good to good, the bad to bad: So he, while he was in his prime innocency, did nothing which was not praise worthy; neither did his praise exceed his merit; but being arrived to that where ambition doth its uttermost, he did more shamefully then miraculously metamorphose himself: his nature, though not changed, but some ways altered, did by fits reduce him to what he naturally was: in the vehemency of his forces, revenge or command; he did not outgo his own preservation or security: so as though he might deserve the name of an Usurper, yet did he not deserve to be termed a tyrant: for were it otherwise, since among the Roman Emperors there were few found who were not usurpers, and yet of the number many good men, the good could not have shunned the being reputed Tyrants. Henry did not subvert the fundamental Laws: he was sent for before he did insinuate himself; the Kingdom was offered unto him before he did usurp it. He did better make good the office of a Prince to his subjects, than did his subjects their duties unto him their Prince: neither of them forgetting their peculiar natures, he his innate goodness, nor they their natural wavering and inconstancy. This may be witnessed to us, by what befell him while he was a private man, he did with temperance and modesty receive the praises due unto him by the victory he had over the Duke of Ireland, no vainglory was therein found in him, his discourse thereof did not exceed the bounds of modesty, and the relation he made thereof unto his associates, was void of amplification or boasting. Aid from Genua being demanded and granted against the Pirates which roved up and down the Mediterranean Sea, and coasts of Italy, he was made Commander of them: France joining in this expedition with England. Being come into Africa, and by means of his Archers landed, he returned home; his modesty added to his reputation while the one and the other equally contending, strove for precedence in his renown. Those who write, that in stead of making this journey, he went against the infidels in Prusia, did not perhaps equivocate, but the different relation of Writers, makes the undertaking indifferent, since they all agree in his praise. In the combat with the Duke of Norfolk, he proved himself to be both wise and valiant: for though strucken as if with lightning, at his unexpected accusation, he fell into no disorder: his wisdom was inflamed, but not by anger consumed to ashes, as it is ofttimes seen in such as are unexpectedly offended: he patiently endured his exile, and with dry eyes left his Country, whilst those who saw him go, moistened theirs. He would have gone into Holland, if the Duke his father would have permitted him; but the war made by Albertus of Bavaria, Lord of those Countries, against the Frisons, at the instigation of his son, the Count of Ostervent, being very dangerous, and but little honour there to be won (for that people did more by desperateness, than skill in war, defend their liberties) he advised him to go for France. He was there graciously received by the King, Princes, and Court. But the King of France would needs of his own free will allow him five hundred Crowns a week, for his petty occasions, (as it was termed) he thought, not to receive it would argue incivility, and that the receiving of it would fasten upon him too great an obligation; so as he resolved to leave France, and go into Hungary to war against the Turks: He wrote hereof unto his father, who approving of the cause, but not of his resolution, propounded to him a voyage into Spain, where having two sisters the one Queen of Castille, the other Queen of Portugal, he might with less danger and discommodity make the war which he desired against the Infidels: but being by his friends advertised, that the Physicians had given his father over, as not likely to live many months, he went not. The Duke of Berry, who had a daughter of three and twenty years of age, a widow to two husbands: Henry being likewise a widower, a rich heir, and after his father's decease the prime man in England next unto the King, thought to give her to him for wife: King Charles being therewithal well contented: a match which would have been serviceable to the Queen his daughter, and of public good: for thus united, yea peace between the two Kingdoms might the easilier be maintained. But Richard thinking this match might prove disadvantageous to his designs; and that Henry being offended, was likely always to be his enemy, sent the Earl of Salisbury to break it: nor would Charles his wife's father displease him therein, seeing he took it so to heart. When the Archbishop of Canterbury propounded his return to England, offering the Crown unto him, he could not at the first prevail with him, nor had he prevailed with him at all, had not the King by depriving him of his inheritance, caused him despair: a bad resolution, but excusable; and which cannot be blamed by the law of Nature, save as it is interdicted by the law of Christianity: so as innocent in the one, and faulty in the other, he erred in both: such resolutions being prejudicial to a Kingdom, which ought always to detest all alterations. Let businesses fall out well or ill to malcontents, who are egged on by ambition and revenge (two spurs slightly guilded over with the leafe-gold of public good) the people cannot but be always losers by civil brawls; nay, if the two Registers of humane actions, Profit and Uprightness in proceeding, meet not together, (as they seldom do) and that profit have the precedency, it ought to be when the conservation of the Commonwealth is in question, and not to satisfy the ambition and private interests of particular men. If love unto his Country, or the desolation of the State, had moved Henry (Richard being deposed) there wanted not lawful succeeders. But howsoever the malady had been better for the Kingdom than the remedy: for the one was not of long continuance; the King being mortal, and of such years as he might have amended: where as the other for the space of six Kings reigns, produced nothing but one ill upon the neck of another; and had it not been for the matrimonial conjunction of the two Roses in the seventh, the mischief had perhaps yet continued: But as it is the loss of what they did possess in France, their loss of reputation abroad, their desolation at home, the death of hundreds, of thousands, and of fourscore or more of the blood Royal, approve the remedy to have been more pestilential than the disease: and that to have continued Richard in his authority, would have been reputed less harmful, then to have substituted another King, how good soever, who in a capacity of growing worse, was cause of those woeful consequences which such substitutions use to draw after them. Wise Phifitions apply only approved medicines to the ●…icke party, where the case is not desperate; and in case it be, the more discreet sort do rather suffer them to die peaceably, then tormented with the violence of medicines. The malady here was not mortal, save as made so by the remedies. So we may conclude, that the good conditions of such as do pretend, are more harmful than the bad of of such as do possess: Virtue not being what she appears to us to be in her abstract, but what she is in the concrete of her corruptions. Henry had, though silent, yet conspicuous competitors, by law questionless before him: as the sons of Roger Mortimer, the eldest son to Philippe, the only daughter & heir to Lionel Duke of Clarence, not only by nature, but in the eight year of King Richard by Parliament declared Heir to the Crown; she being dead, her right remained in these, so as by virtue of the Laws he could not justly pretend to that which contrary to the laws & the prejudice of others he did violently usurp: But because his succession was not truly justifiable, it behoved to seek out some colour for it: his friends propounded divers titles unto him, all of them counterfeit and disguised, whilst right, rich and substantial of itself, needs no false props. Henry did by his Mother descend from Edmond Crook-backe Earl of Lancaster, they would have this Edmond to be eldest son to Henry the third, Edward the first his younger brother, got the birthright by reason of his brother's deformity: whence it ensued that all the Kings since Henry the third were illegitimate: and that for the present he was the only lawful Prince, his Mother Blanch being the only great Niece to Edmond: but the business being more maturely examined then propounded, they thought it better not to make use thereof, then to ground so great a building upon so weak a foundation. His day of Coronation being come, wherein, according to custom, his titles to the Crown were proclaimed, three were expressed. Conquest, Richard's resignation, and his being the first heir male of the blood Royal. The first was false, Henry made no war, 'twas conspiracy, manifest rebellion: and the forces whereby he got the Kingdom (for he brought but fifteen Lances along with him from Brittanny) were of the Natives, who in such a case would prove both conquering and conquered. Conquest doth presuppose a nation or people vanquished by war; an enemy nation which contends, not a friendly one which favours and calls in. The second title, which was the Resignation, might by the figure Ironia be termed Conquest, for Richard's resignation was enforced, bargained for in prison, and yielded unto upon hopes of saving his life. The third, that he was the next heir male to the Crown, afforded occasion to Edmond Earl of March, the right heir indeed to say amongst his friends in a Latin allusion, that this was a right title, for that he was indeed Herus malus. But howsoever it was, he was crowned, all titles as well just as unjust admitted of by applause and silence. 'Twas observed that the day of his being proclaimed King was the same day twelve month that he was banished, as the day wherein the Duke of Norfolk was together with him banished, was the same day twelve month that he the said Duke had caused the Duke of Gloster to be strangled. Things which oft-times fall out in History, no natural reason being to be given for it: so as we must believe them to proceed from the hand of God, who in his due time rewards every man according to his works. The first thing this King did after he was crowned, was the making his son Henry eldest of 4 sons, and who was then between twelve and thirteen years of age, Prince of Wales, the title whereby the king's eldest son is at this day called. A decree was there made that all the dominions of the Crown and pretensions thereunto, as well on this side as on the other side the Sea, should be conceived, as individually united in the person of King Henry, and in his default in the forenamed Prince, and he failing of issue, in Thomas, from him (in the like default) in john, lastly in Humphrey, the daughters not nominated. The succession being thought sufficiently entailed in the lives of four. But because Richard's person and his pretensions might cause much alteration, it was so carried as that the chain of his captivity should be forged by the Parliament, where consultation was had what should be done with him. The Bishop of Carlisle who always blamed the deposing of the one, and the others substitution endeavoured (out of more integrity than wisdom, to the danger of himself, without hope of public good) to undo what was done: as if a general error committed by some through malice, by others through fear, were to be disannulled by bare and naked reason: the arguments he made use of were two: whether Richard might be deposed or not, and if so, whether it were just Henry should succeed him: For the first, he showed that a legitimate Prince, though a Tyrant, was not subordinate to the authority of subjects; that Richard was no Tyrant, his errors proceeding from youth and bad counsel: that those should have been provided for by remedies less severe, and more just: That the Duke of Lancaster whom they called King had done more mischief since his return from France, than King Richard in all his reign; that suppose Richard had merited to be deposed, the Duke of Lancaster had no reason to pretend unto the Crown, since the lawful heirs, and those who were so declared to be by Parliament were yet living; That the Law condemns no man unheard. That they had condemned a King who had reigned two and twenty years, without allowing him the hearing, and were about to condemn him again. The Bishop's reasons were like the Sun in Aries, which moves, but doth not dissolve humours: if the foundation of this affair on the one side was force, it was ridiculous to treat thereof on the other without equal, if not greater forces. The good Bishop was immediately laid hold on by the Earl Martial, and sent prisoner to the Abbey of S. Albon, decree being made that Richard being served at his table, and in all things else concerning his person, like a Prince, should be imprisoned during life: and in case that any others should practise to free him out of prison, that Richard should be the first who by his death should make amends for such a fault as the occasion and groundwork of such commotions. Many other things were then determined: some for the people's ease, others for the benefit of friends, and depression of enemies. The Acts of Parliament made the eleventh year of King Richard were confirmed; which were by him abrogated in the Parliament held in the one and twentieth year of his Reign: and those of the twentieth and one year repealed to the general good and satisfaction of all men; for while they stood in force, no man could think himself secure: the term Treason being so confusedly and so maliciously enwrapped in so many equivocations, as that there was no so slight fault which malice might not bring under that head: so as they determined that in that behalf judgement should hereafter be given only according to the Statutes made in Edward the thirds time, for the confirmation of the Parliamentary proceedings the eleventh year, what ere was done against Richard's officers was declared good: for the anulling of what was done the twenty one year, the resolutions taken against the governor's were declared unjust: those who did therein suffer as the Earl of Arundel and the Duke of Gloster, or banished as the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Earl of Warwick were restored in blood. He gave the I'll of Man forfeited by the death of William Scroop, Earl of Wiltshire, beheaded at Bristol, to the Earl of Northumberland: with this obligation, that those Earls should carry the selfsame sword which he was girt withal when he entered the kingdom, and which was afterwards called Lancaster's sword on the King's left hand at their coronations, a gift which through his own default (as we shall hereafter see) he enjoyed not long. To the Earl of Westmoreland he gave the County of Richmond. He distributed Governments and Offices to divers others, either out of gratitude, desert, or faction. He recalled from banishment the Earl of Arundels' son, and the Earl of Warwick, restoring them to their dignities and goods which had been taken from them. The Dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter, the Marquis Dorset (his own brother by the father) and the Earl of Gloucester (as being those) who had challenged Arundel and Warwick, were deprived of such titles as had after that act been conferred upon them, and of all the goods which from that time they enjoyed, given them by Richard, by confiscation or otherwise: the Titles and incomes which they formerly enjoyed, remaining only unto them: so as Aumerle from Duke was reduced to be Earl of Rutland; Surrey, of Kent; and Exeter, of Huntingdon: the Marquis Dorset, his brother, to be Earl of Somerset; and the Earl of Gloster to be Lord Spencer. I call those challengers, who accuse others, and offer to prove their accusations by single combat: as these had accused the abovenamed, to gratify King Richard: and as in this Parliament, in hopes of pleasing King Henry; Aumerle, Salisbury, and divers others, were accused as traitors to the King, and offered to be proved so by Duel. But the King considering the time and humours, knowing that Clemency and Grace would more redound to his glory, then by giving ear to accusations, to make himself be believed their on-fetter, appeased them; pardoning all of them, and prohibiting any further discourse, concerning that matter. He thought to do the same another way, and to win the friendship of his most professed enemies, those whom he found to be so in the behalf of the deposed King. The three degraded Dukes were the chief of these; Aumerle, Richard's cousin-german, and he who was most intimate with him while he reigned, he hoped to win the good will of the other two, though Exeter were King Richard's brother, and Surrey his nephew, son to his other brother, who died two years before: he feared not Exeter, having some interest in him, as who had married his sister Elizabeth, but believed to make good use of him concerning Surrey, if need should be: so as if he would not suffer the combats to proceed, nor that the people should triumph in their deaths, as they seemed desirous (all three of them being the causers of infinite grievances and extortions) it was out of these respects which were not in likelihood to deceive him: the present good turn which he did them, being likely to oblige them very much: for though with justice he might have satisfied the people, and secured himself, he chose (by pardoning them) to displease his subjects, and prejudice himself, whilst he might so justly have rid his hands of them. An excusable fault for a Prince who stands upon such ticklish terms. An enemy resembles glass, which never can be peeced. And though Christian Religion have the secret of piecing an enemy, which is for the love of God, yet Christians (though they should) do seldom arrive at so great perfection: and though Nature may pretend to have the same secret, yet ought she not therein to be believed; unless it proceed from two great extravagancies: either from a dead and senseless pusillanimity, or from a generosity only by imagination to be comprehended. The first is not to be trusted: for baseness and cruelty are terms convertible. And of the second, they only are capable, who like julius-caesar, and King Henry, believe that benefits are able to blot out injuries: but others, who judge their enemies good conditions by their own bad ones, believe that good turns are baits to revenge; and abhorring him so much the more, for that they are made the Looking-glass wherein his nobleness and glory may be seen; they are Diamonds to all other impressions, wax to the impression of hatred, as in the three abovenamed, and divers others, we shall shortly see. The first news which France heard of these alterations in England, was by the Merchants, and those so uncertain, as they knew not what to think thereof; Madame de Cousi had the charge of the young Queen, who being commanded to be gone, without demanding any question, or further troubling of her mistress, obeyed; and was waited upon to the Sea side, where a ship stayed for her, and conveyed her over to Bullen: she was the first that brought any true relation: The which, when Charles understood, he was thereat so much grieved, as that while he was thinking upon revenge, he relapsed into one of his wont frenzies, the Council not knowing what to resolve upon: they perceived by the general hatred against Richard, and the universal consent in Henry's election, that in a business of this nature, 'twas bootless to use force: for England is not to be undone but by division. The Duke of Burgundy, who had been no less averse to this match in France, then was the Duke of Gloster in England, upbraided them with the small account they made of his counsel; and was of opinion, that the business was not to be remedied by a sudden war; but that they should do well to wait for such occasions as are by discontented subjects offered unto their neighbours, such as were those of Gascoigne, who were the more displeased at Richard's being deposed, for that he was borne among them, and was always called Richard of Bordeaux. A wise consideration if this ill blood had grown to a rebellion: or if Sir Robert Knolles, Lieutenant of Aquitaine, a wise and valiant Gentleman, had not hindered them by remonstrances and reasons; who likewise advertised England of the danger. This mean while the French were not wanting to themselves. The Constable de Sanserres was the first who presented himself upon their confines, endeavouring to blow the already glowing Coal. The Duke of Bourbon had recourse thither likewise, provoking the Nobility and people, offering all they could desire; adding withal such promises as upon such like occasions are usual, with as much readiness of speech as they proved afterwards difficult in performance. Bayon, Bordeaux, and other towns, being required, sent him their Deputies, who having no further directions then only to hear, returned laden with offers. But these first passions being calmed, the comparative condition of France and England (the latter free from Burdens, the other subject to perpetual taxes) pointed out unto them the wholesomest resolve. For the common people love nothing more than to cultivate their own grounds to their own proper use, and to enjoy the fruits of their own industry, not being forced thereout to feed officers or soldiers. While things were thus carried, Thomas Percy Earl of Worster came thither with a fresh supply of soldiers, upon whose arrival all practices ceased, while Richard's friends endeavouring his liberty, did thereby hasten his death, which was the only means to free him of the miseries wherein he now lived. The Dukes of Aumerle, Exeter and Surrey (as hath been before said) were friendly embraced by the King, who hoped by his good usage to win their love; but the latter two not being able to withstand the power of blood, nor the first the like of friendship (the which was grown to that height, that Richard, in case he should die without issue, desired to leave the Kingdom to him) it was impossible for them so far to alter their affections, as that they did not prefer danger before security. The several opinions of this conspiracy are so various, as that they may admit of doubt; but for my part, I rest assured, that this variety proceeded from the not knowing of true particularities, and that through the inveloping of secrets, the common people have fashioned their story: whereupon that hath happened which will always happen, that many true cases have no circumstances, which are not or false or very uncertain. Having tied up all in a bundle, I will give you the opinion of Writers: King Henry when he was young, had let some words fall (perhaps out of inconsiderate vivacity of spirit, or else out of ambition to be thought a Statesman) tending to this purpose; That Princes in consideration of their degree and expense had but small revenues, and that the Clergy in regard of their calling and occasion, had too great incomes. To which speech Richard afterwards alluding, said; That if the Earl of Derby came to the Crown, he would be no great favourer of the Clergy. Having now obtained it, and the memory remaining of what he had said, and the other had judged, the Clergy had some reason to suspect; since such like words as these were not let fall by chance; but at such time when as snares being laid for the Clergy, because of their wealth, there were divers who had given such particulars of their estates to the Parliament, as that the two Archbishops were forced to protest against any Act which should be made against Ecclesiastical liberty or immunity: and though I believe that these suspicions were vain (men's minds changing by years and experience, and he not having in all his reign showed any such inclination) yet he who shares in a believed danger doth not wait the coming of it, but prevents it; which was the only cause that made the Abbot of Westminster do what he did. This man was religious by profession, but by practice a Courtier; his learning and experience had won him reputation, especially with Richard, who took him along with him in his last journey into Ireland; being then firmly of opinion, that the King who had professed himself no friend to the Clergy, would for ever continue the like, he thought the best way to prevent this danger, would be by Henry's death; and because the grounds of this his imagination were either true or likely, he suffered himself to be persuaded to a likelihood of effecting his desires; wherein he had not been deceived, if fortune had not failed him. He considered that Henry's preferment was occasioned rather out of hatred to Richard, than any love to him; that such effects change with the change of fortune: that the one being deposed, the other was no more so much desired, who was only coveted to exclude the other: this being effected, that his first love and applause was turned into envy and hatred: that the people were fickle, greedy of what they have not, cloyed with what they have: that his nearest kin were his enemies; his brother, brother in law and cousin being censured in Parliament: that usurpation is hateful both to God and man; that a lawful King was unlawfully deposed; the lawful heirs, contrary to reason disinherited: that he was favoured by the Nobility, as by the house of Percy for interest, by that of York for fear: that the envy to him ward, and compassion towards Richard were Rams, able to beat down whatsoever well built wall. All of them considerations of much weight, but counterpoised by the King's fortune, light beyond comparison. Hatred and treason are false balances, wisdom is the only just scale, which if the Abbot had used, he had saved his own life with the life of Richard, and the lives of others, who drawn by a rash confidence, perished in the precipice of a too bold and heady resolution; for God doth seldom suffer, never assist bad actions. The first care in this business was to find persons fitly appropriated to the business; since of the well-willers thereunto, these were only useful, when by birth or retinue were void of exception, faithful: faith being than most to be relied upon when most interessed, and interest being the chiefest causer of our affections. Not herewithal contented, he would have them oppositely affected with love and hopes towards Richard, with hatred and fears towards Henry; so as without more ado these considerations pointed out unto him what choice he was to make. The Dukes of Exeter and Surrey were most nearly concerned in Richard, and under him their greatness was safe; which under Henry was doubtful and suppressed, though Exeter had married his sister, a thread too weakly spun to withhold suspicions, which in what concerned the Kingdom befell his brother in law: mere shadows, endangering him and forcing upon him a necessity of impossible circumspection, for the preservation of the State as it now was, was the only gain which was to be aimed at. In the Duke of Aumerle were more weighty considerations; none at all for what concerned his blood: he was in the like relation cousin to both, but it being an ordinary thing to repay unuseful kindred with disrespect, and with hatred such as bereave us of our good fortune, or are a cross to us therein; by Richard he had been remunerated, by Henry cut short of part of his honours and livelihood: but that, which of all other his distastes he was most sensible of, was, that he could not suffer the being cut off from the Crown by his younger brother the Earl of Cambridge, who had married Anne, to whom (when Edmund Earl of March should die) the right to the Crown did belong. john Montaigne Earl of Salisbury, who had been an abusive meddler in the breach of the match between Henry and the daughter of Berry, had reason to presume him his irreconcilable enemy: Hugh Spencer Earl of Gloucester, preferred by Richard, suppressed by Henry, allied moreover to the house of York, by his match with Constance the daughter of Aumerle, could not aspire to higher hopes. john Bishop of Carlisle, though with the height of clemency freed from imprisonment at Saint Albon, was notwithstanding by his persevering in a preposterous zeal, fast linked to the love of the one, and hatred of the other: Magdalun, Chaplain to King Richard, to boot with the common interests and obligations of the abovenamed, did naturally so much resemble Richard, as that there was no separating of him from his party. These, and divers others not named, were by the Abbot invited to a great feast; which being done, they fell to private conference, wherein having deplored the miseries of the time, the imprisonment of a King to whom by nature, oath, and particular favours, they were obliged, as likewise their own loss in his fall; they resolved to re-establish Richard by the death of Henry; presuming that the people would be herewithal contented: for by this means they should be freed from the wars wherewith they were threatened from France, Scotland and Wales. The Duke of Exeter propounded a Tilting at Christmas, wherein he with twenty Gentlemen, would challenge the Earl of Salisbury with as many more, to the which the King should be invited, and there, together with his children slain. A business likely to succeed, they being all armed, and under the pretence of pomp well attended, and he void of suspicion unarmed, his ordinary guard being more for show then service. This being done, they resolved forthwith to reinthrone Richard wherein they expected no opposition: for of the house of Lancaster there remained none save brothers by another mother; of the which the Earl of Somerset, the eldest, was distasted, and none of them comprehended within the Act of Parliament, touching the succession of the crown. Richard's lawful heirs loved him well, and if any alteration should happen, it would not be of much consideration, he being once reestablished, and they so well provided, as that they might preserve themselves free from danger, till the arrival of aid from France; to doubt whereof would be sacrilege, the daughter of France being too precious a pawn to be by the French abandoned. This Proposition being approved, and all of them having vowed fidelity, six of the chiefest among them, made six writings be drawn up, all of the same tenure, the which they all subscribed, and sealed every man keeping one of them; which was the breakneck of the business: for if any one of them should prove false, to what Tribunal could the others cite him? And if it should happen, that through treachery, or want of good take-heed, any one of the Copies should come to light, there was no way left to save themselves. Exeter having acquainted the King with the appointed titling between him and Salisbury, besought him to honour them with his presence, and that he would be pleased to be their Judge in case any difference should arise: The which he graciously accepted of, and promised to do. This mean while every man providing himself of what number of men he could get, under the pretence of magnificency, they came at the time appointed to Oxford, where the King and Court was the next day expected. The Duke of Aumerle was only wanting, he having sent his men before, went to visit his father, who lived in a Country house, upon that road, and stayed dinner with him. Fortune would so have it, as that the old man spied a piece of paper in his son's bosom; and, not imagining what it might be, snatched it from him. When he had seen the contents, the six seals, and among the rest, his sons for one, he grew so incensed, as rising immediately from the Table, he gave order for his horses to be made ready; reproaching his son for that having been false to Richard, he would now be a traitor to Henry; that he was witty in finding out inventions to undo his father, but that now his father would undo him; That he should remember how the last Parliament he was bound for him, body for body, and goods for goods; That therefore, since he made so little account of his father's head, his father would make as little account of his. This being said, he went to Windsor. Aumerle considering, that the old man was not to be withdrawn from his resolution, that the business was discovered, and his life in question: having none with whom to advise, resolved to prevent his father, he got on horseback, and riding as fast as he could drive, he got to Windsor before him; where, as soon as he was come, he clapped to the door behind him, telling him that looked to the door, that so it behoved for the King's service. He threw himself down at the King's feet, and craved his pardon. the King astonished at such a novelty, demanded his offence; which when he understood (being somewhat amazed at the first) he promised him mercy, so as the business were as he had related it; but if otherwise, woe be to him. This mean time the Duke of York came to the Castle door, and finding it shut, bade it be opened. He entered, and without further circumstances, put the conspirators contract into the King's hand; who finding thereby all to be true that Aumerle had said, put off his journey to Oxford, resolving to expect at Windsor the conspirators new resolutions; he sent news hereof by express Carriers, to Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, Lord high Constable of England; to Ralph Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland, Lord Martial, who had married jane his sister by the father's side, and to all his other friends, to the end that they might make what haste they could to the Court, and bring with them what forces they could raise. Exeter was one of the first that came to Oxford, more set upon the resolution taken, then were the rest: but he could not so order affairs, but that by the extraordinary provision of Arms & Soldiers, his wife, the King's sister, perceived that all this was done to undo and kill her brother; whereat, in height of Agony, she was much distracted between the love to her brother, and affection to her husband: the ruin of one of them being certain, & whether the one or the other equally to her grievous: whereat her husband (who loved her as much as he hated her brother) being moved, said unto her, that fortune might make both her and him equally content, one only thing excepted, That their interests were in all things else common and individual, in this alone divers and particular. For as she could not but rejoice at her brother's preferment to the crown: so he could not but grieve to see his brother deposed, that now in the change of fortune, which by the preparations that were made, she was towards: if she found cause of affliction, she should do well to consider, that he had just cause of joy: for if she, being Henry's sister, esteemed her greatness the more in respect of his, he being brother to Richard, had reason to hope the like in the Rise of Richard; without the which, (whilst her brother reigned) he was like to live in perpetual misery, and daily to expect death: That she was not to suffer in the fates of either of them. For if Henry should reign, she was to continue the same she was, though having lost her husband; and if Richard reigned, both of them were to preserve their lives, honours, and fortunes, so that come what would come, she had cause to rejoice, but not he: For that he might not, through so many dangers, die daily, it behoved him to expose himself to all danger, that he might once die, or for ever be free of fear. Hereupon giving her his last kiss, he left her weeping and went to Oxford, where all the rest were come saving only Aumerle, where having expected him to the very last hour, his not appearing, the not preparing for the King, and the no news thereof, were manifest signs that their plot was discovered; they had no hopes of pardon, having been formerly condemned and pardoned, so that in a desperate case desperate resolutions were to be taken: they endeavoured to do that by open force, which they could not effect by treachery, and for their safety's sake, to use deceit. They clothed Magdalun with Princely robes, who much resembling Richard, cozened the more ignorant. They gave forth that assisted by his Keepers, he had escaped prison, thereupon they assembled together 40000. men, the least part whereof came for good will, the most inconsiderable for hopes, and the most unuseful for fear: all of them consequently, changeable and inconstant: for infidelity produceth fear: incertitude hopes, and popular inclination, weakness and confusion: there was no counsel to be had, nor foundation to ground it upon, so unexpectedly were they surprised. They resolved to seize upon the King at Windsor, but he hearing of their coming, had with some few horse, withdrawn himself from thence, so as not finding him there, they intended to pursue him to London, and so take him unproviding, which perchance was the best course they could have taken; but fear put a period thereunto, when wisdom was more dangerous than rash attempts. The King when he was come to London fortified himself there; the City furnishing him with soldiers, and he providing himself of sufficient guard: when he heard that they were coming, he came forth to meet them with 20000. men, and made his stand where they were to pass by, not diffident in the small number of his men, nor affrighted at the multitude of the enemy. They, on the other side, mistrusting themselves, shunned the encounter, and went towards Reading, where the Queen was: making her believe that King Richard was at Pomfret with 100000. fight men, and that Henry of Lancaster together with his children and friends, had shut himself up in the Tower, not daring to come forth; and the better to colour their false report, they threw down henry's arms, and took his Cognisances from such of the Queen's servants as wore them, as if Richard did already rule. They made no further use of Magdaluns' pageant, for fearing lest they should be discovered, they when they were at Reading, gave out that Richard was at Pomfret, and elsewhere, when they were elsewhere; for it is usual with such as are upon the point of perishing, to make use of false rumours. When they left Reading, they went to Cicester; Surrey and Salisbury taking up their lodging in a small village; Exeter and Gloucester theirs in another, leaving their army in the field. The Townsmen thereabouts, who were informed that things were otherwise then they gave out, did about midnight beset the house wherein the former two were lodged; who withstood their fury for the space of fifteen hours. Exeter, who was advertised thereof, could not possibly succour them, for all his men through a sudden fear were fled away. A certain Priest of Surrey's side, set divers houses of that Village on fire; hoping thereby to divert them from their assault; which caused Exeter's men to take their heels, believing that Henry was come, and that it was he who had given battle and fired the houses. The Townes-folkes, on the contrary, hereby doubly enraged, resolved to quench the fire with the blood of those that fought against them: so as unfortunate Surrey and Salisbury, forsaken by their friends, and taken by their enemies (likely by their many mortal wounds to live but a while) were beheaded, and their heads sent to London; twenty nine of their company, what Barons, what Gentlemen were taken prisoners, who being brought to Oxford, where the King was, had public justice passed upon them. Gloucester thinking to escape, was taken prisoner in Wales, and beheaded at Bristol. Magdalun fled into Scotland, where he was taken and sent to London, where he died the death of a traitor. Exeter, who had oft times endeavoured to get over into France, and was always by contrary winds beaten back; whilst he wandered up and down unknown, was taken as he was at supper in a friend's house, brought into the late Duke of Glocesters hands, where his head was strucken off. Divine justice repaying him according to his deserts, in his territories whose death he had been the causer of; the sufferings of his own death were augmented by Richard's foreseen death, he being doubly the cause thereof, by being at first too forward, afterward too slow. In all other respects he was a man of praiseworthy conditions: but he stained his reputation in seconding his brother's humours, and in endeavouring to ruin his brother in law, he lost his life: infinite was the number of the rest that died; the high ways were filled with men hanged, and quartered, with heads set upon poles; among which number did many innocent people suffer: who under pretence of rebellion, were for particular revenge by some about the King, put to death. The Abbot of Westminster understanding what miserable effects his counsel had taken: fled from the Monastery: but overtaken by a sudden Apoplexy, he escaped the halter, dying less unfortunately. The like happened to the Bishop of Carlisle, who died of a violent fever, thereby mocking his worse destiny, which had he lived a little longer, he could not have escaped. Some will have it that he was again taken and condemned, but his punishment by the King remitted, which if it were true, proceeded either from Henry's innate humanity, or else to show unto the world, that they erred in thinking him averse to the Clergy: but the Bishop enjoyed not this favour long; for through the labour he had taken, he soon after died. If the Conspirators had known that the safety of men in despair consists in despairing of safety: they either would not have perished (yet that had been a difficult affair) or at least not so soon, and unrevenged: but wanting resolution in times of extremity, still hoping for safety; and temporising when it was no longer time to do so; bereaving them of courage which followed them, and those who were to follow them both of courage and time; they by their example taught such to fly away, who were already prepared for flight, and such to temporize as were ready to declare themselves. Innocent Richard was ignorant of all these passages, reserved for the last Scene of this sad Tragedy. For Henry was resolved to see his end. He was carried from the Tower to a Castle in Kent, from thence to Pomfret; tossed from post to pillar, to the end that the true cause of his death might not be known. Three were the several opinions of his death, and none of them in my opinion true, or like truth: The first, that when he understood of the conspiracy, and death of the conspirators, thinking that it would no longer avail him to keep him alive, he voluntarily famished himself to death. The second, that being served according to his custom, with choice Cates, he was not suffered to taste thereof; and that cold being added to the rest of his sufferings, he died within the space of fifteen days. The third, that Henry sitting at the table, and complaining of his present condition, he should say, he saw he had no friends, since his life and Richard's being incompatible, there was none that would free him of this anxiety. Whereupon one Sir Peter Eston, accompanied by eight others, went strait ways to Pomfret, where meeting with Richard's Sewer, he said unto him; That it was in vain any longer to take assay of his meat, for he was not long to taste any; and that the Sewer taking this in another sense, waited at the Table, but did not his usual service: at the which Richard being offended, when he understood that he was willed so to do by Eston, who was newly come from Court, he grew so incensed, as that he cut him over the face with a knife, saying: The Devil take Henry of Lancaster, & thee too: at the which Peter, with the other eight, entering the room, with Halberds in their hands, he threw the Table from him (believing that they came to kill him) and that flying fiercely upon one of them, he wrested his weapon from him; with the which he slew four of them: but being over-borne by the rest, he went backwards toward the place where Eston was set in Richard's chair, almost ready to swoon, through the remorse of conscience: that there Eston with a great blow fell him to the ground: which when he had done, he instantly cried out, that he had killed a Prince who had been his King two and twenty years: that he should live hereafter abhorred and pointed at by all men, as a traitor, and murderer of a King. One Historian allows Richard so much life after the receiving of this blow, as to suffer him say, that Edward the second his great-grand-father, was in like manner as he, deposed and killed: that his grandfather Edward the third, having by such means obtained and enjoyed the Crown, he being his successor, did bear the punishment, that the like would happen to such as should succeed Henry: and though his death (his own demerits considered) was just, yet was it not such as would justify his murderers. But I cannot see how the blow he received from Eston, and the desire that Eston had to see him dead, could allow him so much time for discourse. That he voluntarily starved himself to death, is not likely, he loved his life too well, and rather than lose it, he chose to lose both liberty and kingdom: nor would knives have been wanting, had he had any such resolution. And certainly Henry is much injured in the report that he should act that which is but feigned of Tantalus: for of his own nature he was no ways wicked; and though it was a great fault to bereave his lawful King both of Kingdom and life, yet seeing he had put on a resolution of reigning, (Pandora's box, from which all mischief issued) he must or not be King, or make himself secure of his kingdom: the one was the sin of ambition, which many are subject to; but the other (not to allege other examples) would have been the Idea of the most unheard of cruelties that ever were committed. Respect unto himself enforced a riddance of him, but not in so cruel a manner: such an act had been able to alienate all other people from him: his vainglory in affecting the first seat among the damned, would have been more than diabolical; neither is it likely that Eston slew him: for Henry needed not in so unblamable an action, publicly at the Table, to beg the helps of others. It may suffice that Richard did die, and after what manner best pleased Henry; but no man knew how: otherwise in this case there would have been but one relation: and not able to free himself from the suspicion of having caused him to be put to death, he could not find any means whereby to be the less hated for the doing of it, than the uncertainty thereof; which occasioned this diversity of opinions. He caused his corpse to be brought up to London bare-faced, and gave order that it should stop for some convenient time in divers public places (particularly in Paul's) to the end that it might be taken notice of. He caused his funeral to be celebrated, at which he himself, together with all his Court, and Magistracy of the City was present. This being done, he sent the body to Langley, lest the sight of his Tomb in London might recall into men's memories, an action, which howsoever it was done, was unjust and inhuman: He was there privately buried, none of any quality being present, save one Bishop and two Abbots. Henry the fifth, son to this man, when he came to be King, caused his body to be brought to Westminster, and placed it the●…e by the side of Anne his wife, amongst the other Kings. Some Scotch writers are of a fourth opinion: That as soon as Henry was crowned, an Hermit of reverend aspect presented himself before him, who admonished him to restore the Kingdom to whom of right it did belong, threatening the ruin of the house of Lancaster, if he would not do it; and that Henry fearing if this novelty should be scattered abroad amongst the people, it might cause some revolt, made the Hermit privately be put to death. That Richard having escaped prison by the connivency of those who were his Keepers, got into Ireland, and from thence to Scotland, where he placed himself in service with a Lord of the family of Machdougell; and that after a while being known, he was brought to the Court, where he was with much civility received by Robert the third, and entertained as a King: but that weary of the world, he retired himself to the service of God, and being dead, was buried in the Dominicans Church, as the inscription upon his Sepulchre did witness. But if this had been true, the English writers would have had some little light thereof, some whispering or tradition of it would have been among the common people: Scotland would have made some advantage thereby; France would not have been quiet; Henry would not have demanded Richard's widow for his Son, nor would Charles have married her into the house of Orleans: Richard would either have retired himself to France to his wife and father in law, or having a mind to become one of the Religious in Scotland, he would have procured by dispensation from Rome, a nullifying of his contracted though not consummated marriage. George Buchanan writes that the old Earl of Northumberland being fled into Scotland (as we shall hereafter see) that he there found an English man who had falsely taken upon him the name of Richard the second: that he endeavoured to get a sight of him, but that the other could by no means be persuaded thereunto; that if he had not been an Impostor, he would not have shunned the sight of one that knew him; and that the same man afterwards dying, was buried at Sterling in the Church of the Dominicans with the title of King of England. Henry had great good fortune so happily to acquit himself of this conspiracy, otherwise in likelihood he might have been oppressed by evils which on three sides hung over him: for during all his life his fortune was through dangers to arrive at happiness, and at safety by the Rocks of precipice. France had made great preparations of man and shipping to succour Richard, with intention to come for England; relying upon his partakers, upon the envy contracted by the new King, and upon the inconstancy of popular affection; their former hatred was changed into compassion. They were all in Picardy under the command of Count St. Paul ready to take shipping, when together with advertisement of the conspiracy, came news of the unhappy success thereof, which amazed them all. To proceed farther under colour of revenge, which brought along with it suspicion of invasion, had now been rashness; since they were dead in whom they did most affy. Greater preparations were to be made for the invasion of England, these not being sufficient without some correspondency from within the Land. And as the home conspiracy gave the last blow to Richard's life, so did the foreign preparations, confirm Henry in that resolution; which he would not have willingly taken without these sharp provocations, so as that which was intended for his liberty caused his death. The forces in France were all disbanded; Charles upon good advice desired only the restitution of his daughter; a just request and not to be had but by civil means: the which he obtained, sending over Ambassadors to that purpose, who were graciously received; but the King referred his answer to certain commissioners who were to go to Calais to treat together with this, of other affairs which nearly concerned both the Crowns. Charles sent thither the Duke of Bourbon, and Henry, Edward Duke of Aumerle, who by the late death of his father, did now succeed in the title and inheritance of the Duke of York, together with whom he sent Henry Earl of Northumberland. Bourbon required the restitution of the Queen, which they denied not, but desired that by the approbation of France, she might yet remain in England, since by birth and years she was a fit match for the Prince of Wales, as wife for whom they did desire her. But Charles not willing to consent to this (having conceived an opinion that the alliance with England would prove unfortunate for France) a perpetual peace was propounded by York. This being likewise found a difficult business (France being resolved not to quit what it was possessed of) the English Edmund, endeavoured to bridle his insolency: The battle was on both sides manfully fought; Glendor had two advantages, the number of men, and his being their Captain: By these means he proved victor, obedience and good order having won him the Laurel. The Herefordshire men, on the other side, fewer in number, and led by the Earl only, in regard unto his quality obeyed; many, and sometimes none, doing what they listed; so as distracted, and not resolved what to do, they made good the field till night; rather out of an obstinate resolution, than any reason or order. At last they yielded, but fled not: for none did pursue them. Glendor was contented that he had overcome: for finding himself in an enemy's Country, the night being dark, many of his men slain, and the rest or weary or wounded, he forbore to pursue the victory. Two thousand were left dead in the field; the Earl was taken prisoner, and kept in the bottom of a Tower, no respect being had to his person, neither did the King (though by many much importuned) endeavour his liberty: for he thought this his imprisonment to be one of the happiest things that ever befell him. Let me here be permitted to relate a Story of the Welsh Women, the like to which I have not met withal in any other history. They ran like so many Bacchanals to the place of battle, they cut off the noses and privities from as many as there they found dead, they put the privy members which they had cut off, into the mouths of the dead, with the testicles hanging out, and the noses into their posteriors; nor would they suffer their bodies to be taken away without ransom. An action wherein eagerness, dishonesty, cruelty, and avarice were equally seen, and were it to be disputed which of these four were most abusive, whosoever should give his opinion in favour of any of them, might lawfully fear the being thought unjust, each of them having arguments to plead for the priority of mischief; but if I were to be Judge herein, I should believe, that avarice were not to be pleaded: For though it be a vice natural to that Sex, yet in what belongs to their household government, it may be accounted a virtue. I should absolve them of cruelty, as not an absolute cause, but an effect of the fierceness of their nature. And I would free them from dishonesty, because no dishonesty being without delight, this action was thereof incapable: so as fierceness would win the plea, were it not that the inveterate hatred which they bore unto the English, had been the only thing which made them fierce, dishonest, avaricious and cruel. Glendor kept on his course, sacking and spoiling the confines. These two victories had made him be esteemed by his own men, and feared by his enemies: there was none, (the King being busied about more weighty affairs) who withstood him: but good fortune is like the flowing of the Sea, which ebbs again: for a full sea is always followed by an ebb. The Scots had at this very time taken their best advantage of the alterations in England: they readily made use thereof, and Northumberland was the place wherein they laid their first Scene. The truce continued of force between the two kingdoms; and because war was not publicly proclaimed, the truce was not esteemed broken: for disorderly incursions are pardoned between nations at continual enmity. Nor was King Robert to be blamed herein, unless it were for conniving. The Scots having ransacked the country, betook themselves to do mischief at sea, and to endamage the fishing business. But the English were not wanting unto themselves: for having sacked the Lands of the Orcadeses, they met with the enemy's Fleet, who under the command of Robert Logon, went to encounter them; in fight they took many of them: An action of small consequence, and only worthy of the name of reprisal; but occasions of open hostility ensuing hereupon, Henry was unwillingly enforced to undertake a war. The King of Scotland had contracted a match between the daughter of George Dumbar, Earl of the Marches, and Prince David his eldest son, the Earl having readily paid in a great sum of money by the way of portion: Archibald Earl Douglas, a high spirited man, not able to endure this addition of power in any one, much less in Dumbar, who was of himself great, and greatly followed, wrought so by the favour of the Duke, the Governor of the Kingdom, that this contract was declared void, as agreed upon without the Counsels knowledge; and that his daughter Mary for a greater sum of money was received in the others place: and that this marriage might be past all annulling, he caused it speedily to be effected, and authorised by all the accustomed Church rites. The Earl of the Marches was very sensible of this affront, and resolving upon revenge, would not hasten it, till he might make it justifiable to all the world. He required the repayment of his monies; but the King paying him with delays, intending indeed never to pay him, he seemed to believe the contrary, till such time as every one might perceive how he was abused. Hereupon threatening revenge, he withdrew himself, and his whole family into England, where he was by the Earl of Northumberland received: having gathered some forces together, he entered Scotland, and did there some mischief, which though not sufficient wholly to repair, was notwithstanding enough to content him for the first bout. King Robert having degraded him, and confiscated all he had, sent a Herald to denounce unto Henry, that it was contrary to the tenure of Truce, to receive such as were Traitors and Rebels to his Crown, and to favour and countenance them: that if he would have the truce continue he should deliver Dumbar up into his hands, or banish him his dominions. To the which King Henry (were it either that he esteemed it an unworthy thing to revoke the protection he had given him, or that he was so generally beloved as to have resolved the contrary, would have been to little purpose) answered, That he was sorry he could not satisfy the King of Scotland; for that he could not in honour recall the safe conduct which he had by his great Seal granted unto Dumbar. That for what concerned Truce or War, he left the choice to him: for, for his part he was ready to continue the one if it pleased him; and if it pleased him not they were both of them equally indifferent to him. The Herald had no sooner brought back this answer, but war was proclaimed: And Henry willing rather to encounter it abroad, then meet with it at home, passed suddenly into Scotland: he burned and ruined what ere he met withal. He spared no places but such as were holy, and such as had harboured his father the Duke of Lancaster, when he withdrew himself into that Kingdom. A gratitude so well interpreted by the Scotch Writers, as that Hector Boëtius saith, That never did enemy make more friendly war than did he. He came to Edinburgh, and took it: he laid siege to the Castle, which was defended by Prince David and his father-in-law Earl Douglas. By the condition of these two, the importance of the place may be conjectured: for Edinburgh was not to be held but by those who were masters of that Fort; whole Scotland depended upon this siege. It was now September, and in those Northern parts Winters forerunners were already felt. The Duke of Albany was not far off, desiring that people might think he would do what he was resolved not to do. His designs (which were the usurpation of the Kingdom) suffered him not to be charitable to his country, to perform the duty of his charge, nor to have respect unto his reputation. He would willingly have seen the Castle battered down, and Prince David (who was his prime and chiefest obstacle) buried in the ruins thereof. Notwithstanding his inward malice, it behoved him to make show of good intentions: he by a Herald sent word to King Henry, that if he would expect him but six days, he would give him battle; with resolution either to make him raise the siege, or die in the enterprise: he could not have sent a more welcome message to the King: for the season of the year, and his want of victuals would not permit him to tarry there long. He rewarded the Herald, and bade him assure the Duke that he would expect him, and fight with him. Six and sixteen days passed, and yet no governor appeared: so as the flux in the Camp, joined to so many other incommodities, forced the King to raise the sige, and return home: He brought back with him all his military affairs, as likewise such Commanders as were wont to keep upon the Frontiers; which gave the Scots means, in some sort, to repair themselves: they made two incursions without opposition, into the two confining Countries of Northumberland and Banborough-shire; for the adverse party arrived late after they were retired: encouraged by their happy succcesse, they adventured upon the third onset, being led by Patrick Heborne, a gentleman more adventurous than was requisite: for whereas he was able to have assembled a great number of men, he (having more regard to the booty than danger) made only choice of the best: wherewithal he entered Northumberland and by prey and prisoners enriched himself and them: but in their return, through heedlessness caused by too much confidence in themselves, or contempt of the enemy, being pursued by the Earl of Northumberland, they were routed at Nesbyt, where the greatest part of them were slain, though not without revenge: for they fought to their last gasp valiantly, as is usual to that warlike Nation. Heborne, more courageous now then cautious before (having done all that belonged to a discreet Commander) thrust himself into the thickest of the battle, where manfully fight he lost his life: together with him were slain the chiefest of Loughdeane, besides many Gentlemen and Knights that were taken prisoners, but as this defeat did rather irritate then quell the Scots, so Fortune which had smiled upon them in their first two expeditions, turned her back upon them in the third, and quite abandoned them in the fourth: perhaps she was offended they should so often make trial of her. The old Archibald Earl Douglasse was dead, the first occasioner of this war: he left behind him a son which succeeded him in name and title, but surpassed him in worth and virtue. This man resolved upon public revenge, for the public lossewhich had been suffered. He raised an Army of 20000. fight men: The governor assented thereunto, and gave him for his associates, his own son the Earl of Fife, the Earl of Angus, Murrey, and Athol, together with many Barons and Gentlemen of the chief Nobility of Scotland. They came into Northumberland with flying colours, where not finding forces able to resist them, they returned laden with prey, when about Hamilton they might see the Lord Percy issue out from forth a Valley: he who for his valour and forwardness was by them called Hotspur. He had with him Dumbar the enemy of the Douglasses, all the Gentry of Northumberland, and 8000. men, what horse, what foot, and though it cannot be denied but that the hatred was great which was between these two warlike Nations, yet who will mark it well, may see that their vying for mastery was the cause of all the mischief which was by either of them given or received, rather than hatred or avarice. Percy was famous for what he had already done, and now more than ever desirous of glory. Douglasse was big with fame, and that he might bring it to light, was desirous to add thereunto the fame of his enemy: these two respects were the whetstone whereon the valour of both parties was sharpened. Exhortations and warlike noises were needless, every man was by himself encouraged, and ready for what he had to do, each side equally thirsting for the others blood. The conflict endured a long time with like affect, as is seen in a sheet of corn, which when driven with violent winds, bends now on the one side, and then on the other alternately, till at last Fortune taking stand under Saint George his Cross, thought it not sacrilege to bear to ground that of Saint Andrew. Douglas (who in the battle had lost an eye) was taken prisoner; with him Fife, Murrey, Angus, Athol and five hundred more: the greatest part of the Gentry of Scotland died manfully fight; of which number were twenty seven Knights, and of common soldiers (as the English writers say, for the others say nothing herein) 10000 Percy, as soon as he had made the prisoners safe in sundry forts, passed forward in Loughdeane, and the Marches of Scotland, making use of the present occasion, as having slain and ta'en prisoners all that were to defend those parts: which when he had sacked and utterly ruinated, he besieged Coclaven, a place neither to be long kept, nor soon lost; it was agreed upon that it should be surrendered, if not succoured within three months. The Governor was advised not to succour it, for that the loss of it would be of less moment than the hazarding of a second battle. The defeat at Hamilton had so allayed the courage of the Gentry, as that not being confident of any good intention in the Governor, they could not be persuaded to a new conflict: but he (his mischievous designs not being now the thing in question, but the honour of the Kingdom, on the preservation whereof much of his hidden hopes depended) swore he would succour it, though not seconded by any; but the first two months being past, and nothing done, the castle was freed the third, for which no thanks was due to him: for Percy was forced to raise the siege, that he might follow the King in his wars in Wales. Whilst England was thus beset on both sides, new troubles arose unto her out of France, which though at first sight of no consideration, were yet the occasion of incensing men's minds, and of the more easy breach of truce. The Duke of Orleans, brother to King Charles, a Prince of an unquiet spirit, borne to be the ruin of himself and Kingdom, took a fancy, out of a mere capriciousnesse, to send a letter to King Henry by a Herald, the contents whereof were to this purpose: That having considered how the rust of idleness in youth, had been the loss of many Princes sprung from Royal blood, he was resolved to shake it off, and to win renown and honour by the way of Arms: to effect the which, he could think of no readier means, then that they two should meet at a certain place to be by them agreed upon, where each of them accompanied by a hundred Gentlemen of name & valour, and void of blemish, they might make trial of themselves, till the one of them should yield: and that such prisoners as should be taken, should be liable to ransom, and their ransoms to be paid to such as took them. That to this purpose he went with his hundred to Angolesme, and that if he would come with his hundred to Bordeaux, they might choose some neighbouring place for the combat. The Duke had been the King's great friend whilst he was in France, insomuch as in sign of their more real friendship, they sealed a writing between them wherein they bound themselves to the defence of one another, against all the world, except some whom the Duke excepted; but this challenge being directly opposite thereunto, and Henry having not been long in his kingdom, and by reason of his affairs, free from that idleness which the other desired to shun, he answered, that he would never have believed, that the letter which was delivered him by his Herald, had been directed to him, had not the circumstances assured him that it was. That the public truce between the two Kingdoms, and the private confederacy between them two, aught to have dissuaded him from making such a request: but that since he was pleased so to resolve, he for for his part was likewise resolved to break their former confederacy: That Kings ought to be challenged by Kings, not by inferiors: That Kings ought not to use their weapons for vainglory, but for the glory of God, and good of Christianity, and when by their state necessitated thereunto: That he would come to Bordeaux with as many men as he pleased when it might ought avail him: And that in such a case occasions would not be wanting to the Duke to find him out, nor should will be wanting in him to be found out by him. To this answer the Duke by new letters replied, that he avouched the writing of the former letters to be to him, & to him only, and that if he did not therein give him the title which now he assumed, 'twas because he did not approve thereof, that he would have had due respect to their confederacy, if it had not first been violated by him, that he would never have made any confederacy with him, if he had thought he would have so behaved himself towards King Richard, God knows how, and by whom slain: for what concerned his present dignity that God never gave it him, but did only permit it in him; and that God did oftentimes suffer Princes to reign for their greater confusion: so as the comparison he made between them two, was to no purpose; since his reputation was void of blemish, as was not the Kings: that for the duty and office of a King, he could not say better and do worse: that Queen Isabel his Niece might serve to prove this, who was sent back into France, her husband being slain, her jonyture denied, the goods she brought with her into England, detained: That he would maintain all this to be true in single combat hand to hand, to the end, that (as he had said) the deaths of so many might be spared: that he thanked him for having more charity to the blood of France, than he had to his own Lord and King. This reply was too sharp, not to be answered. The King wrote back: That having communicated his designs to him, when he parted from France, which he (the Duke) did then approve of, and promised his assistance, he wondered why he should now blame them, as if they were new unto him: that if by his words of God knows how, and by whom King Richard was slain, he did believe that his death was occasioned by any command or approbation of his, he did believe falsely; and that he would make this good unto him body to body. He did not deny, but that in the confederacy made between them, the King of France, and Isabel, Queen of England, were on his side excepted; but that he (the Duke) could not likewise deny, that though the Duke of Burgundy was by name excepted, yet that in private he told him, he held him as not excepted, for the confederacy was only grounded upon the hatred he bore unto him, so as the objection which he made against him (the King) was the same which the Duke, from the very beginning was maliciously guilty of. For that part of his reply, where he said, that He would never have m●…de any confederacy with him, if he had thought he would have behaved himself so to King Richard; why then did he, after Richard's death, send a Gentleman to him, to assure him of the continuation of his friendship, and to tell him, that next the King his brother, he desired to serve no Prince alive more than him. That God had permitted him, but not promoted him to reign, he did not believe it; yet he confessed, that Gods abounding favours to him, proceeded only from grace and mercy, the which was able to effect more than all the art and malice of the Devil, (by these words he alluded to what was commonly believed, that the Duke, and Valentia his wife, had bewitched King Charles, and plotced the death of his children, to the end that they might come to the Crown) that if he had read the Articles of agreement, he would there have found, that England was not obliged to make any jointure: that he had not only restored unto her what ever she brought with her, but presented her to boot: that the Acquittance sealed in Council, he himself being present, might convince him of his falsehood: so as what he said in this point, was not for that he did not know the contrary, but that being of himself false and wicked, to speak truth was contrary to his nature: that he did not deny his desire of sparing to shed the blood of France, as it well became a King to be sparing of his subjects blood: for such (his just claim considered) were the French to him; that where he said, He had more respect to the blood of France then the life of Richard, he lied; and that it were to be wished, he had not done worse to the King his brother: for what remained that he would pass the sea, when it might conduce to the honour of God, his own good, and the good of his kingdom, to answer him in what manner he should choose. This defiance was accompanied by another from Valerian of Luxenburgh, Count Saint Paul, who not calling him King, but Duke of Lancaster, denounced to him, That his friendship and affinity to King Richard, (for he had married Magd●…len Holland, sister by the mother's side to Richard) and Henry's being notoriously guilty of his death, obliged him to do him all the evil and mischief which by the forces of himself and subjects he was able. But the King made him no answer, as one he made no account of. In the Duke of Orleans his business, nothing passed further than the defiances by writing: but the Count St. Paul began to take his revenge to little purpose, making trivial attempts most harmful to himself: for believing that the new Duke of York was causer of Richard's death (the conspiracy at Oxford being by his heedlessness discovered) he caused his Statue to be made, and giving it in charge unto some of his men of war, he made it to be hung up by the heels upon a gallows, which for that purpose was carried by night near to Callais walls, the which at the opening of the gates being seen, did so exasperate the Garrison of the Town, that the Count and his territories fared not the better for it: all his other attempts after this, had ill success, as we shall hereafter see more at large. This mean while the King of France being advertised of King Henry's preparations against Wales, he set himself to succour Glendor, judging that it might redound to his advantage, to annoy England under another's pretext, and to make it pine away by nourishing the fever of an intestine war. To this effect he caused many Ships to be put in good equipage in Breast, a haven in Bretaigne, and put therein two thousand fight men, under the command of james of Bourbon, Count of March, who putting to Sea with his two brothers, Lewis and john, found the winds so contrary to his passage into Wales, as that he was forced to anchor at Plymouth in Devonshire, where landing his people by night, he burned and sacked all the neighbouring villages, not sparing the Abodes nor Boats of poor Fishermen. But herein Fortune smiled upon him but a while: for the confining people gathering together at the firing of the Beacons, and news being brought him that the violence of Wind and Sea had split twelve of the best Ships of his Fleet, endangering all the rest: He, with difficulty, did re-imbarke himself, and with much ado got to Saint Maloes, having run divers times danger of being swallowed up by Sea. This ill success did no ways assuage the French men's heat, for assembling together a fleet of eighty ships, under the command of Marshal Moemerancy, and the General of the Crossebowmen, wherein they embarked 12000. fight men, they came to Milford haven, in Pembrokeshire, where finding Pembroke Castle strong and well defended, they sat down before Erfordnuest, which being likewise secured by the Earl of Arundel; they passed forward to Denbigh, doing all those outrages as they went by fire and sword, as are usually done in an enemy's Country; there they found Glendor, who stayed expecting them with ten thousand of his own men: thus met together, they travailed toward Worster, but not having time to try the town, by reason of the King's approach, they fired the suburbs, and retired into Wales, fortifying themselves upon the hanging of a hill, betwixt the which and the opposite hill (where the King had pitched himself) there was a Valley disadvantageous for those who should first pass over it; they tarried eight days in sight of one another, both sides resolute not to assail, and though daily divers skirmishes were made, yet were they not of much importance, some of both sides being slain; amongst which the bastard of Burbone the Marshals brother was one. The King this mean while had stopped the passage of their victuals, thereby enforcing them either to pass the Valley and fight, or else to retire: the latter being thought the better course, they raised their camp at midnight, marching through Woods, and over Mountains, still pursued by the King; but this pursuit lasted but a while, for the King having lost certain provision of victuals, which the enemy well acquainted with the ways, had intercepted, was brought himself to the like danger of suffering for lack of victuals, and winter now coming on, he quitted the enterprise for that time, resolving to reassume it in the spring, being hereunto enforced, through Glendors daring, and the molestations of the French: but the French weary of the Country; and more weary of a war wherein nothing of advantage was to be had, withdrew themselves to Brittanny, not intending to return. The Count St. Paul's attempts had no better success, who willing to act his threats, had gathered together in Abeville between volunteers and men in pay 1600. fight men; from whence he went to Normandy, and embarked himself at Arflore, intending to set upon the I'll of Wight, upon the coast whereof he was sooner than he imagined, being favoured by the winds, which assisted him in his landing. The Islanders, who expected not so sudden a surprise, retired themselves together with the best things they had from the more open places to places of more defence; and if they suffered some loss, 'twas nothing in respect of what the Count intended; for England being night at hand, succours in few hours to be had; the parts thereof strong, and not to be won but by length of time, he having but a small number of men, the inhabitants once met together stronger than he, he lost all hope of victory or booty. This Island was by the Romans called Vecta: It is seated in the South of England, so near to Hampshire, that from Hurst, the chief Castle thereof, seated on the outmost part of a narrow ridge of land, which thrusts itself forth into the sea, the distance is but two miles. It is rich in pasture and grain, abounding in birds, particularly in A description of the Isle of Wight. Partridge and Pheasant, full of Hares and Coneys; it yieldeth great store of Wool of the third best sort of England; it is twenty miles in length, in breadth where broadest twelve; so well inhabited as that there is therein thirty six towns, boroughes and villages, it hath divers strong Castles seated in the most appropriate places for the defence thereof; it armeth 4000 men exercised by their Captains: from Hampshire in time of need 3000 men are assigned unto it, and from Wiltshire 2000 but without their assistance it was able to defend itself against so few enemies: when posts flew up and down with news of the Counts landing, those who were nearest unto him thought it best to entertain him with treaties, as well that he might forbear doing mischief, as likewise that being alured by hopes and gain, he might not prepare to be gone; they sent unto him a well spoken and well advised Priest, who made divers propositions to him; but being advertised of the strength of the Island, and of what danger hung over him, he reimbarked himself contrary to the good will of the adventurers, who had laid out much upon vain hopes, and had never any reparation made them, though they expected satisfaction from the General. All sides were so heated with these commotions, as that war was already kindled in Guascony, not now contented with inroads, they betook themselves to more evident and real injuries; but Fortune having favoured the English in these last expeditions on this side the sea, would now be gracious to the French in the two next on the other side the sea. The one made by Count Claremont, son to the Duke of Burbone, the other by the Constable Albert, both which strove who should most indamage the Duchy. The first accompanied by Count Chastearebone son to the Count de Fois, reduced three strong Castles to the obedience of King Charles, St. Peter, St. Marry, and Chasteaunense. The second incensed at the damages done by the Garrison which lay at Carlefine (which had forced contribution upon all the neighbouring places) sat down before the town, accompanied by Arpadan, a Gentleman of note, and much followed in those parts; after six week's siege the Garrison despairing of succour, yielded themselves, their goods being safe, and the townsmen redeeming their goods with money. But these external adventures merit not the being recounted, save as apparent 1403 intermediums of the tragical acts which were internally done; men who do good turns, use to measure merit by a common measure which agrees ill with the measure of Princes. For subjects are born to serve their Princes, & are bound to their service, which they are not to other men; so as private men are more obliged by good turns than Princes, not but that Princes ought to reward worth in those that serve them; but if this bemade in them a coactive duty, virtue will not be its own end in subjects, & will eclipse the splendour of liberality, and gratitude in Princes, and not being able to satisfy every one with current money (their estates how rich soever not able to supply them) they must reward some with the Alchemy of honour, a sort of money coined for the chiefest and most noble, amongst whom it is oftenest dispersed. Tacitus brings in Armenius laughing at his brother Flavius, who rather desired to be a private soldier amongst the Romans, than a Prince in Germany: and that having in those wars lost an eye, and had his face disfigured, he termed the increase of his pay, and certain other little gifts which children would disprize, a reward. But Armenius did not well understand this mystery; for take away the opinion of honour (which of the two principal columes which sustain civil life, is the second) who will expose himself to danger, who will defend his Country, if to die for it be not esteemed glorious? The two Percies both brothers, the one Earl of Northumberland, the other of Worster, together with Henry, son to the former, fell into this error, they measured their service done to the King according to the common measure, so as if the mischief which ensued, was not answerable to the honour of their family, and their own particular worths, it was notwithstanding most answerable to their ill advised resolutions. In the two battles at Hamelton and Nesbit (as hath been formerly said) they had taken some of the chief Nobility of Scotland; the which being demanded by the King (who would have them in his power) and by them denied, they thought to satisfy him by sending unto him Mordachy Earl of Fife, the chiefest of them, son to the Duke of Albeny, alleging that this man together with the other prisoners, did of right belong to them, as a prey won by the hazard of their persons, and effusion of their blood, so as the King had no pretence unto them. Just reasons if the Prince were not to share in the booty, Artillery, munition, or victuals, prisoners of quality, or otherwise redonable, do properly belong to them, not so much in respect of ransom, as to facilitate, or secure the victory, by peace, exchange, and other contingencies which times and occasions, in the manifold interests of States do produce. I speak not of the imprisonment of the two Kings of France, of john in England, and Francis the first in Spain. The ransom of the two brother's sons to Charles of Blois, were reserved for Richard the second; and though it were afterwards by act of Parliament granted to Vere, Duke of Ireland, it was not done to prejudicated the right we speak of, but to the end that by his being absent from the court, the King might the better govern himself. And for what concerns prisoners of lesser condition yet re-donable, the example of the victory at Lepanto, which happened in our father's times, may suffice; in the which the confederates divided the Turkish prisoners, and made them tug at one Oar in their fleet. The King persisting in his resolution of having them, they thought to make him desist therein, by demanding of him things of greater consequence. The Earl of Worster, a wicked and turbulent man, was he who did forward this resolution, an advice worst to the adviser, and mortal to those who did embrace it. The King was then at Windsor, whither the Earl of Worster being come, he represented unto him the miserable imprisonment of Edmund Earl of Marsh, their kinsman, kept in fetters by Glendor, and fallen into this misfortune for doing service unto his Majesty and the State. He desired him to be the means of his freedom, either by ransom or otherwise: the King finding whither this request tended, after having awhile bethought himself, made answer, that the Earl of Marsh was not taken prisoner in his service, but by his own consent, as not willing to be enforced to profess himself an enemy to Glendor; and this answer he willed to be published to the terror of all such as had any inclination to himward. Worster being returned, and having acquainted his brother & nephew with what had past; the Nephew would not endure it, who being a violent young man, did wrongfully exaggerate the injustice, saying: That Henry not contented to bereave Edmund of the Kingdom, did now deny him that succour which his service done unto him, did challenge: That if he should have ransomed him, it should not be done by his own monies, but by the inheritance which he usurped from Edmund; and that in stead of praise, through too much ingratitude, he loaded him with undeserved calumnies: wherein he said truth; for Edmund's wit was not proper for such inventions; and if it had been true, Glendor would not have treated him as he did. But the King who had by evil means usurped the State from him, could not by good means maintain it; not only the loss of his liberty, but the loss of his life would have re- Lord Percy who came with intention to win the City, failing in his intentions, and the aids he expected not appearing, resolved to give battle of himself, encouraged in that his soldiers were resolved to die for their liberty, and for the good of the Kingdom, governed (as he gave out) by a Tyrant. He sent the forenamed writing to the King by two Squires, the which acquainted him with the reasons of his revolt, and did likewise denounce the battle. The King was there only named Duke of Lancaster, it was written, subscribed, and sealed by the names, hands, and seals of Henry Percy Earl of Northumberland, Lord high Constable of England, Lord Warden of the West Marches, of Henry Percy Warden of the East Marches, and of Thomas Percy Earl of Woster. The contents thereof was, that having sworn at his return from France, that he did pretend to nothing but the inheritance due unto him by his father, and wife, and that he would suffer the King peacefully to enjoy his Crown, he had done otherwise; for after having through famine, thirst, and could, caused King Richard's death, he had usurped the Kingdom, which did of right belong to Edmond Mortimer, the lawful heir; causing the Burgesses of Parliament to be chosen contrary to the form of Law, and privilege of the subject, so to suborn votes for his own advantage; that he had denied to ransom Mortimer, who being by them set at liberty, he had proclaimed them traitors; that therefore they did defy him as a perjured and false man, as an usurper of the crown which did properly appertain to the true heir: and together with him they defied all his complices, and such as sided with him, as traitors, and destroyers of the State. If true faults objected but in jest, do sting, much more did these do so, accompanied with such upbraid and threats. But the King, not wonted to discompose himself, when he had read the letter, said merrily to the messengers, that his sword should answer that scandalous writing, and that he was confident, God would assist his just quarrel against such forsworn disloyal traitors as were the Percies. But his moderation in these occurrences, is worthy a particular observation: for lacking neither generosity nor courage (if his usurpation and injustice did not bereave him thernof, which did not appear) he received all these injuries not only untransported, but with a settled judgement, weighed that as to hazard his estate, life and honour, upon the fortune of one day, would be an act of rashness: if he could avoid it, so to prefer his safety before their offences, would be a point of wisdom. For that injuries were passions of the mind, which might breathe away in a standing fortune; but the ruinous effects of a lost battle, were irreparable in a falling fortune: so as cashiering all punctualities, not caring what others would say of him, he resolved to see whether he could in some sort fairly accommodate this business, rather than trust to the inconstancy of fortune; which was not to be tried till the last push. And that in such a case he would show that manlihood which men hasty and void of judgement might now tax in him. He appeared the next day, and ordering his troops as the others did, he sent the Abbot of Shrewesbury unto them, accompanied with one of the officers of his privy Seal, with an offer of pardon, if they would yield to reasonable conditions. The Lord Percy, though naturally violent, examining the business in the same sort as the King had done, accepted the proposition. He sent unto him his Uncle, the Earl of Worster, to require of him an effectual reformation of those things which had caused them take Arms. But the Earl (though fully satisfied by the King in all his demands, and in a more submiss sort than did become his degree) made a clean contrary relation to his Nephew: envy and confidence (for he judged the King's humility to be cowardice and fear) leading him by means of this deadly lie, to his fatal end. The young Percy thinking himself undervalved, caused the sign of battle immediately to be given by sound of Trumpet: the two Armies were about forty thousand fight men, the rebels Vanguard was led by the Scots, who after a great shower of Darts, which slew many of both sides, advanced themselves against the Vanguard Royal, which rigorously withstood the first shock; but the Welshmen coming at the same time to the rebels assistance, the King's Vanguard began to give ground, and had been routed, if the King with his battalion had not put forwards. Young Percy aspiring after victory, advanced his likewise, having formerly agreed with Douglas to kill the King, in whose death did consist the victory, and end of the war. Dumbar perceived their ends by their violent coming on; and with much ado, got the King to withdraw himself to another place; which if he had not done, he had run apparent danger: for the violence of the bickering was all made upon the Standard Royal, the which was beaten down, and Sir Walter Blunt, who had the charge thereof, slain; together with as many more as did defend it. Amongst which (according to Walsingham and Hollenshead) the Earl of Stafford, made that very day Lord high Constable, was one; though Halle reckons him amongst the rebels. The King who (as hath been said) was gone elsewhere, whilst fight and commanding, he performed the office both of a Captain and stout Soldier, was by Douglas, who sought after him, with a Lance borne down to the ground; but getting on horseback again, he did acts of such fame, as that foreign, Writers do agree, that he slew with his own hands that day six and thirty of the enemies. Douglas believing that he had done what he desired, gave on still, and met with a second, than a third, clothed with upper garments like the King, which both being overthrown, or slain, he knew not what to think of so many Kings in one battle encountered. I name them not, for I meet not with their names in any Author. Henry, Prince of Wales, a youth not fully sixteen years old, wounded in the face by a Dart, and deaf to their persuasions who would have withdrawn him from the battle to have dressed him, gave proof that in his due time he would be that brave King he was. The enemy gave on no where, nor did his men give any where back, where he opened not the enemy's ranks, and closed his own. By his example instructing, and by his valour causing shame, where none was. So as the King's party heartened by the valiant carriage of the Father and Son, the Father followed by the most valiant of his men, seeing the face of Fortune changed, gave on where the enemy was thickest. Young Percy, who according to his custom, had fought bravely, was by I know not whom, slain, whose loss was the loss of the Battle on his side. The King's side began already to cry out victory; and the name of Saint George was echoed through all the Camp; when Douglas not longer able to withstand fortune, the Scots being almost all slain, the English and Welsh fled) began to think how he might likewise scape, he set spurs to his horse, which stumbling on the top of a hill, he fell down, and in the fall broke one of his genitories, and was ta'en prisoner. The Earl of Worster (the execrable cause of so great mischief) the Lord Chinderton, Sir Richard Varnon, & divers others were likewise ta'en, but in a divers manner. The battle lasted three hours: on the King's side (besides ten Gentlemen who were that morning knighted) 1600. soldiers were slain, and four thousand more dangerously hurt: there was slain of the Rebels 5000. not numbering the Gentlemen, the Scots, nor those of Chester, who as the Welsh had always been faithfully devoted to Richard. This defeat fell upon the Saturday, so as the Earl of Worster and the other two had leisure on Sunday to think upon their souls, for on Monday the law passed upon them at Shrewsbury. The Earl's head was sent and set upon London bridge; the Lord Percies body, which was by the King's permittance buried, was by command of the same taken up, beheaded and quartered. The punishment of offenders is one of the foundations of State, and to teach great men their duties by their equals infamy, is numbered amongst the secrets of government. This was the end of Percy the Hotspur, one of the valiantest warriors that age produced, he died armed amongst armed troops, covered with his own blood, and the blood of others; his end had been glorious had he died in a more justifiable cause, he might well have preserved himself (his high spirit being allayed by the King's last proffer) but the malice of a wicked Uncle hindered him, causing by his false report this his death and infamy. Earl Douglas no subject, but a professed enemy, was by the King commended and admired, and set at liberty. For virtue by men generously minded, is applauded even in enemies. Owen Glendor and the Earl of Northumberland remained yet enemies, not to be despised. The King sent the Prince his son to Wales, who finding the people in those parts possessed with fear, by reason of the last overthrow, chased them like so many wild beasts, over mountains and through woods. Glendor forsaken by all men, died within a few days of mere hunger; his hopes and life, his principality and prophecies ending all at once: so as having appeased the country, and left governor's there, the Prince returned home in triumph. But that Glendor did die in this sort, is only written by Edward Halle, other writers keep him longer alive. The King took a journey towards York, to reduce the Earl of Northumberland to his duty, and found that if he had not been withstood by the Earl of Westmoreland and Sir Robert Warerton, he would have drawn his forces into the field, and have joined with his son; but that fearing to encounter them, he had retired himself into his strong Castle. The King writ unto him to disbandon his forces, willing him to come in a peaceable fashion. He obeyed, not knowing how to do otherwise after so great a ruin: he came accompanied only with a few of his own followers: he used not many-words, concerning his nakedness with excuses, and laying those faults upon such as were dead, which lived yet in him. The King dissembling his displeasure (for Berwick and other strengths were yet in his hands furnished with Scottish Garrisons) suffered him to return, that he might not again endanger those confines, he gave him friendly and holy admonitions, which had he had the fortune to embrace, he had not heaped up desolation upon his family by his own death. Some will have it that the King pardoned his life, but did confiscate his goods, leaving him only sufficient for maintenance, and 'tis not unlikely, for in the next Parliament he was restored to all except the Isle of man, a superfluous favour if he had not been formerly punished. This mean while Valerian Count St. Paul, nettled by his no honourable retreat from the Isle of Wight, levied 2000 fight men, part French, part Genoveses, part Dutch, with the which heunexpectedly sat down before Merc Castle, little more than a league distant from Calais, hoping by their valour & excellency of his Engines, to win it: the place was defended by soldiers more remarkable for their valour then number, so as despairing of taking it by assault, he lodged his troops in the suburbs, which being environed by a ditch, defended him from such as from Calais, or the other Garrisons might at unawares set upon him, he forbore not though to assay their first work with a fierce assault; the which being weakly defended (the defenders not much valuing it) he made himself master of, and made a great booty of cattle and horses; his coming being this mean while understood at Calais, the town sent out a hundred horsemen to discover his situation, who returned without, or giving, or taking offence; but they sent him word that if he would expect them, they would come and dine with him the next morning, to which he answered, that their dinner should be ready for them: upon break of day 200 horse, two hundred archers, and three hundred footmen, followed by ten or twelve carts with victual and artillery, came forth of Calais. They thought to have met the enemy in the field, or ready to come forth, but finding them in their rampiers, it was necessary to stir them with their arrows; a cloud whereof falling thick upon them who were closed up together between the Castle and the ditch, they were sorely gauled, not able to make defence. The Dutch foot being disordered, were the first who run away, and were followed by the greatest part of the horse, and the Genovese Crossebowmen, who in the taking in of the first works had spent all their arrows, were soon defeated. The Count got safe to Terrovan, leaving eighty Noblemen and Gentlemen prisoners besides those that were slain. Of which number was Angestes, Captain of Bullen, Dampiere, and Ramburres. The English won Artillery, munition, and other pillage, not herewith contented they undertook to take in Ardres. They brought thither three days after, about break of day 500 men; but the chance at dice is not always alike fortunate, for beyond their expectation, finding the sentinels awake, and the defendants ready to fight, after a long redoubled assault they lost between forty and fifty soldiers, so as taking away their ladders, they carried the dead bodies into a house hard by, which they set on fire, to the end that the bodies being burnt, the loss they had suffered might not be known. The Count St. Paul doubly wounded in his reputation (for every man spoke ill of him) resolved to set upon the confines, & do there what mischief he could, but this his intention being known at Court, he was commanded to forbear so doing: his fortune not corresponding to the rancour of his mind: and in his stead four hundred horse, and five hundred foot, were sent to Bullen for the safety of those Frontiers, conducted by the Marquis Du-pont, son to the Duke de Bar, by the Count Dammartin, and Count Darpadan, that by their wisdom and valour they might abate the audacity of the English. Philip, surnamed the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, was dead, to whom john his eldest son, succeeded in the inheritance of his estate, in the haughtiness of his mind, and in his hatred to the Duke of Orleans, the first original of their destruction, as likewise of the ruin of France. He having heard of the Count Saint Paul's misfortune, did thereat take much apprehension; for his territories in Flanders were next exposed to the enemy's impressions; King Henry had assembled a Fleet of tall ships, wherein were five thousand fight men, to force Sleuce. The Duke prepared to succour it. The English having, with bad success, fought against the Castle, upon the advice of this succour, were enforced to quit their design, having lost in the action threescore men; amongst whom the Earl of Pembroke, as Monstrelet reports. But herein he is deceived: for the Earldom of Pembroke was then in the Crown, by the death of john Hastings, who in Richard the seconds time, was at a tilting slain, leaving no heirs behind him: nor was that honour conferred on any one many years after, till by Henry the fifth it was conferred upon his brother Humphrey, who was afterward Duke of Gloster. But the Duke of Burgundy not affying in this retreat, put munition into Gravelling, causing a good number of armed men to fall down upon the frontiers, under the conduct of Signior de Croi: and because to stand only upon defence, was not conformable to the greatness of his spirit, he resolved to besiege Calais, the nearest and likeliest thorn wherewith he might be pricked. He began to make extraordinary preparations; and that nothing migh●… be wanting, he sent to require aid from France, which certainly would have been granted him, had not the Duke of Orleans jealousies hindered him. Whereupon he was so much incensed, as that he resolved to go to the Court of France himself, and to stop two main gaps with one bush: to obtain aid, and to beat down, at least abate his enemy's power. When he was come to Paris, accompanied by eight hundred men, who under their Cassackes were all well armed: he understood that the Duke of Orleans was some few hours before gone from the City; and that under pretence of hunting, he had carried the Dolphin along with him, with intention of carrying him to Germany: (the first was true, but the second much unlikely) whereupon he believed, that Orleans had done this, to break off the match which was formerly concluded between the Dolphin and his own daughter. The Dolphin went from Paris, accompanied by the Duke, his mother, and Lewis of Bavaria, Uncle by his mother's side, with purpose to go to Mellune. They were to dine at Corviole, whither the Queen and Orleans were already come: the Dolphin and Lewis stayed a little behind, where the Duke of Burgundy came up unto them, who not listening to what ever reason's Lewis could allege, caused the litter to turn about, and brought the Dolphin back to Paris. Great inconveniences would hereupon have ensued, had not the other Princes interposed themselves. But businesses being every day more and more exasperated, Burgundy multiplying injuries, propounding reformations in the government, and therein in bad terms, taxing the others ill administration; the King was counselled to employ them both in places apart; two such working brains as theirs, not like to rest in quiet in the Court. An excellent expedience it might have been of continuance, or at a further distance; But being in a point of time terminable in itself, & at a distance to be measured with one pace, it deferred, but did not take away the mischief; delay causing those miserable and bloody effects which ensued. To the Duke of Burgundy the government of Picardy was given, to the end that the forces of that Province joined to his own in Flanders, might in the common cause facilitate his own security, & the security of the Kingdom. To the Duke of Orleans six thousand men were assigned, and defrayed, for Guascony; whither he went accompanied by many great Monsieurs, and laid siege to Blay: This place could not hold out long, whereupon the defendants bethought themselves of a wise caution: If the enemy should take Blay, they could not keep it, unless they were likewise masters of Burgos. The town of Blay did therefore promise to surrender itself as soon as Burgos should be taken or surrendered. Orleans well pleased with the bargain, as appearing advantageous unto him, accepted of it, gaining thereby as much time to take in Burgos, as he must have spent in the winning of Blay. But having lost many of his men in three months' siege under Burgos (having quitted a certainty for an uncertainty, and lost both) he was enforced to return to Paris, whilst the Duke of Burgundy, wary and well advised, proceeded though more slowly, yet more securely in his designs. He was fully bend upon the enterprise of Calais: but that Fort being difficult to win, defended by a gallant garrison, and easy to be succoured by reason of the sea, and the neighbourhood of England, he could not hope the conquest thereof without great forces, & very many soldiers: so as having assembled together at Saint Omers, six thousand horse, and fifteen hundred Crossbow men, and twelve thousand foot, with proportionable munition and artillery, the enterprise was the second time forbidden him, though he had obtained Charles his consent, Of such prevalence is the rage of a bewitching envy, that such a conquest being to be had in possibility, without the hazarding of France, they would rather have it remain in the hand of an enemy, then in the power of Burgundy: a powerful reason to make him take that resolution which he did. Henry's reign this mean while was like a craggy mountain, from which there is no descent but by a thousand crooked ways, full of rocky stones and out jetting cliffs. The first escaped, others are met withal of more danger and anxiety, in such like paths he walked all the time of his life, nor did he till his end arrive at a wished for plain, one danger, was a step unto another, and the event always doubtful, for the subjects former desire of him being now extinguished; his friends failing and his enemy's increasing, he had no other help, nor leaning-stocke in so painful a descent, but the eye of vigilance and the staff of chastisement, helps and assistances, which though they might cause him keep on his way, yet were they not sufficient to free him from weariness: besides, he was not certain of overcoming all difficulties at last, a condition fitter for compassion then envy in a Prince in his case, and yet it was election that brought him to the kingdom, having always been of that opinion, which is held generous by most men, to hazard himself to very extremes, & to be aut Caesar aut nihil: yet I cannot find that there is any worth or nobleness in aspiring to great matters by unlawful ways, & that magnanimity, a virtue in its own nature so nice and tender, can walk in such paths without galling her feet, unless it be that as things here below are composed of contrary elements, so are our minds composed of contradictory affections: he was before subject to many conspiracies, now more than ever: and those who durst not aspire to bereave him of his life by their sword, endeavoured to bereave him of his honour by their pen. A revenge common enough amongst poor spirited people, and such as are not worth the considering. A Priest casting about how he might slay Henry, made a catalogue of all such as had been rewarded by Richard; giving it for granted, that they would undergo the business; setting down their names in paper, as if they had already consented to the conspiracy. This list being found about him (whilst they endeavoured to lay hold of such whose names were there written) he confessed he had never dealt with any of them, but that it was a mere Idea of his own, imagining that some of them having been obliged by Richard, other some injured by Henry, they would all have been willing to have contributed to his destruction. A confession which saved the lives of many, & condemned his own. A Franciscan Friar together with eight more of the same order, being accused as authors of certain scandalous libels against the King, and demanded what he would have done if Richard had been alive? answered, He would have fought for him against whosoever else, as long as he could stand. Sir Roger Clarindon, Bastard brother to King Richard, accused of the like fault, was, together with another Gentleman, and a servant, ignominiously hanged. Richard had divers times been said to be alive after his death: more 1404 particularly this year, by the means of one Shirley his letters, who was one of the Gentlemen of his Chamber. This man, after his Master's fall, withdrew himself into France, where being confidently informed, that Richard yet lived, he went to Scotland to know the truth. But after he had spoken with the Impostor, whom he knew to be such, he forbore not to make use of the occasion; and (through the hatred he bore Henry) to do his best to deprive him of his Kingdom, he caused a seal to be made, like unto that which Richard was wont to use: he writ divers letters to sundry friends, signed with the same, as if they had been written by Richard; insomuch that he distracted the minds of many, it being already undoubtedly believed, that Richard lived. The old Countess of Oxford, mother to the Duke of Ireland, did not only publish the certainty hereof, but did likewise cause a great many Stags to be made in gold and silver (which was Richard's cognizance) and bestowed them on such as depended on her, to the end that they might stitch them on their sleeves, as soon as he should be entered England. But the little advisedness used in this affair, and her too much security herein, who sent a Secretary of hers to sundry people through all Essex, was the cause of the discovery: so as she consumed her days in a close prison, her goods being by Law confiscated, and the Secretary ended his journey in a Halter under a Gallows. Shirley finding that his plots could not take effect, and not able to return for France for lack of money, came to Berwick, hoping that Sir William Clifford, a friend of Richards, would have furnished him. Sir William kept this place against the King's good will, having refused to resign it over to such as were by the King sent to him for that end: so as being guilty of high treason, he looked to be besieged, taken, and put to death. Wherefore giving over his useless respect to Richard, he detained Shirley, and sent him to the King, and was rewarded with forgiveness of his former disobedience. Shirley was executed, who confessed (to boot with his former fault) that he was one of them who strangled the Duke of Gloster; so as though he died very penitently, and much compassionated by many, yet the greatest part did no ways pity him, the popular memory of the popular Duke, prevailing over the respect of the King now living. All the abovenamed were like so many paunes at Chess, which advancing too rashly, were lost; whilst the great men, alike inconsiderately, endeavouring to mate the King, met with the like fortune. There was not one in the whole Nobility, who did not now desire a change of government, but few that did resolve to endeavour it. For events founded upon the uncertainty of fortune, are for the most part of certain & inevitable ruin. Hatred, as all things else, hath its degrees: he who is in the last degrees, cares not much to hazard himself till such time, as happy success is of little use, and unhappy success of inevitable danger. But who is in the first degrees of hatred, and therein bathed in his own blood, hath bolder: resolves revenge, being an intense passion, and an indefatigable egger on of the spirits in offended veins. The Earl of Northumberland who had lost his brother and his son; the Archbishop of York who had lost his brother, and Maubery Earl 1405 Martial, who had lost his father an exiled man in Venice; all enemies to the King in highest degree, conspired his ruin, taking for their colour the ordinary pretence of reformation, and ease of the people, oppressed with strange taxes, as if to repress the attempts of France, Scotland and Wales (in which service they were employed) had not been necessary, as indeed it was not according to their tenets, for such repression did preserve authority, and did establish, together with the common good, the reputation and awe of a Prince, which they would have oppressed and undone, though to the undoing of the kingdom. The Lord Hastings, Falconbridge, Bardolf, and many others did join in this conspiracy; the order they therein took, was to meet all at an appointed time with their forces at York, under the command of the Earl of Northumberland, but the Archbishop's impatiency broke this design, for being returned to York together with the Earl Martial, he thought to facilitate the enterprise by honesting it, so as having framed certain articles, and sent copies of them into other countries, he caused them be set upon the Church doors, thereby inviting the people to take arms to reform abuses introduced by the ill administration of the present government. The Archbishop was of a pleasing countenance, well read, and endued with much virtue, so as having till this present led a blameless life, he was free from being thought to have any evil intentions (but 'tis usual for man to fall back from well doing) and hereupon at his first beck, 20000. men came flocking to him: an unseasonable diligence for his confederates, as likewise for himself. The King was informed of all that had passed, and not failing in diligence in his own affairs, he had at the first noise of this rebellion levied 30000. fight men, giving order to the Earl of Westmoreland (to whom he joined a son of his own very young) to go before him into these parts, and to govern himself as occasion should require. Being come to York he found that the Archbishop had placed his camp forth of the city, and perceiving that it was not his best to give him battle (for he was much inferior in forces) he encamped himself over against him. And changing the Lion's skin into the Foxes, he sent him word that he wondered to find a man of his profession in the posture he found him, since he could not find any reason, why he should arm the King's people contrary to the King's peace: to the which the Archbishop answered, that he so was far from infringing the King's peace, as that all that he did tended to the preservation thereof. Whereupon entering upon the occasions of discontent with him that was sent unto him, he showed him the Articles; and for the Earls better satisfaction, he sent them unto him by a Gentleman of his own. He who had determined to do what he did, seemed to rest satisfied: but that a business of this high nature being in question, it was requisite they should meet together to treat thereof; which might easily be done, each of them bringing a like number of men betwixt the two camps. There is no net so secure as that which is spread in the commendations of hîm who is to be deceived: for the Archbishop hearing his actions applauded by him who was sent to oppose him, confident to bring him over to his side, made no difficulty to give him meeting. And which is more brought the Earl Marshal along with him, though with much ado, and contrary to his will, who had in vain used all the means he could to dissuade him from it. Being met together with equal numbers between the two camps, Westmoreland after some short discourse, seemed to be persuaded, professing that in so just a quarrel he would fight to the utmost of his life; whereupon shaking hands in the fight of both armies, wine was called for, and given about in token of friendship, and agreement; a ceremony which not soon to be ended, the Earl said to the Archbishop, that their differences being ended in a joint consent, it was not expedient to detain any longer so many people with such incommodity from their houses and shops▪ but that suddenly disbandoned, it was reason they should together with them, enjoy the fruits of the established reconciliation; the Archbishop believed the Earl, and his people him, who returned to the City abundantly content: the cups went this while merrily about, whilst those of the King's party gathering one by one together, grew to such a multitude, as that there being now no more cause of fear, the Earl did at the same time arrest the Archbishop, and Earl Martial, plighting his faith unto them (the same as he had formerly done) that they should not suffer in their lives: and meeting the King at Pomfret, who made what haste he could to York; he brought along with him the prisoners, who much commiserated and bemoaned, were adjuged to die, and were forthwith beheaded: Some do report that the Archbishop obtained of the headsman to cut off his head at five blows, in the honour of our Saviour's five wounds, and that the King being at dinner, was at the same time by an invisible hand struck as often in the neck, remaining afterwards a Leper: A thing possible to him whom all things are possible; but God doth not always work according to his omnipotency, for the King did neither receive these blows, neither did he remain a Leper; to prove the falsehood whereof, the Archbishop's tomb being devoutly flocked unto, as to the tomb of a Martyr, he by public prohibition forbade the recourse thereunto; the which he would not have done, if he had been miraculously struck in manner aforesaid; and for what concerns the name of Martyr, his cause did not deserve it, for he being a Pastor misled his flock from spiritual pastorage to rebellion, and to the shambles; and since the judgements of the Almighty touching the falling of the just, is not to be sought into, the reasons of his former life conclude not for him. The King having by fines punished the City, went towards Northumberland, at Durham he caused the two Barons, together with the two Knights of the confederacy, to be executed. The Earl understanding his associates misfortune, withdrew himself to Berwick, where not thinking himself strong enough, he fled to Scotland together with the Lord Bardolf, and was friendly received by the Lord Fleming. The King finding Barwick resolute not to yield, leveled a piece of Canon against the Castle thereof (an instrument in those days new and not known) with the which at the very first shot he battered it almost down to the ground; whereat the defendants being amazed, without capitulation, yielded themselves to the King's pleasure, who hanging some and imprisoning the rest, made himself master of all the Earl of Northumberlands seats; where taking order for all things requisite, he passed into Wales, leaving the Prince his son and the Duke of York with a great army in those parts; but he found such deluges of water amongst those mountains, as he was forced toquit the enterprise; he had carried along with him many carts and wagons loaded with the most precious things he had, which were all born away by the violence of the torrents, no one piece of them remaining. Some believe that this was done by the Devil, Owen Glendor being held to be a great Necromancer; but I am of opinion that if he had had any such power he would have made use thereof against the King himself, for the loss of the King's person did more avail him, than the loss of his carriages. The Scotch men on the other side should have come into England to aid the conspirators, but hearing what had happened, they budged not, but endeavoured to defend themselves by land from the Prince, and by sea from Sir Robert Vmfrevill, Vice Admiral of the Navy, but nothing happened of much importance. The one had only time to spoil the Country, and the other to sack the coasts of Fife, and Lugdiana, all mischiefs ceasing in a truce agreed upon for one year, which made them return to their own homes. The plague did now grow hot in London and thereabouts; so as the 1406 King not being safe in Kent, the infection much spread in all places, was glad to take shipping to go to Plessis in Essex, the Lord Camois was his guide; they were already well advanced in the sea, when certain French Pirates (who lay in the Thames mouth for pillage) understanding of this passage, pursued them, and intended to take the ship wherein the King was; took 4 ships that were next unto him, one of the which was loaded with furniture of his chamber, and things belonging to his own person. The Baron, who together with the other vessels, were a good way from the King, came not in time enough to assist his Majesty, nor yet to recover what was lost; so as if the King's ship had not been a swift sailor, and so made voide the Pirate's hopes, he had run danger of going for France in stead of Essex. Camois was strictly questioned, and in danger of losing his life, as thought to have held intelligence with these Pirates; but better defending his own innocency, than he succoured the King, he was by the Judges acquitted. The plague being ceased, the King returned to London: He made the match between Philleppa the younger of his two daughters, and Henry King of Denmark; and this was the third marriage that was celebrated in his family after his coming to the Crown, for before this he had married Blanch to William Duke of Bavaria, Prince Elector, and he himself had ta'en to wife jone the daughter of Charles the second, King of Navarre, the widow of john Montfort, Duke of Britain, which I have not mentioned, as not belonging to the thread of my discourse. But what befell Prince james the only son and heir of Scotland, who did at this time fall into the power of England, is not to be passed by, as worthy of ample relation. Robert the third who now reigned in Scotland, and who in his baptism 1407 was named john, changed the name of john for Robert; either for that the Roberts of Scotland had been fortunate, or for that the johns of England and of France had been unfortunate; as if the name were of force enough to make those effects good, which fortune (God permitting) had preordained bad. 'tis true, that amongst the Kings named john few are found who either have not been very bad, or very unfortunate. Castille, Portugal, and Arragon, afford us examples hereof, of three hereditary Queen joanes', the two of Naples were unfortunate, and unchaste; the third of Castille was chaste, but most unfortunate. This notwithstanding john of Scotland did not by change of name, change the malign aspect of his destiny, for those evils befell him, having ta'en upon him the name of Robert, which would have befallen him, had he kept the name of john▪ the divine providence not being to be changed by such alterations This King was by divers pencils painted forth in the same colours; Hector Boëtius describes him affable, merciful, an enemy to extortions, charitable and pious. Buchanan a severe writer, doth in one place give him to us, rather as void of vice, then famous for virtue: and another speaking of his innocency, inriches him with all the worth that is to be desired in a private man, but judges him rather to be an honest man, than a good King. 'tis very true, he had nothing of King in him, save the name, the whole authority remaining in Robert Duke of Aubeney, his younger brother, in his father's time created governor of the Kingdom; a manifest proof of his incapacity to govern it alone. But this Duke did not content himself with the bare government, he aspired to the Crown; which though he attained not, yet left he no wickedness unattempted to effect it, and the life of the Prince David being a great rub in his way, the death of the Queen his mother, and of Earl Douglas his father in law, afforded him means of bereaving him of it, as he desired. This Prince was very lewdly inclined, and so given to his unbridled lust, as that he was not to be endured. Whilst his mother lived, (who kept him in some awe) he lived in some order; but she being dead, letting the reins lose to his natural inclination, no maidenhood was undeflowred, nor marriage bed unviolated. When tricks and flatteries could not prevail, he made use of force: Daily complaints were made unto the King, of injuries done by his son. The father (by reason of his weakness contemned) not able to amend him, determined to transfer the care thereof to his brother, thinking that only he was able to tame him; an error ordinary enough in persons of his condition. For the good man suspects not what he doth not imagine, and what he himself would not do, were he to gain the world thereby. The sheep being thus delivered over to the Wolf, the Duke, at the very first, shut him up in Saint Andrew's Castle; a jurisdiction of that archbishopric, the which after the death of the last Archbishop, he had unduly usurped under pretence of keeping it, during the vacancy of that Metropolitan See: but thinking him to be there too nigh the King's ear, and the Courts eye (desiring rather his death then his amendment) he carried him to the strong hold of Faukland, a jurisdiction of his own, where he caused him to be put into a dungeon, with direction that he should there die of hunger; a commission, though given in secret, yet by the effect sufficiently published, no preparation being made in so little a place (where all that was done, was seen) neither for the person, nor nourishment of such a prisoner. He had died in a few days (and it had been better for him, since die he must) had he not been kept in life by the daughter of the Keeper of the Castle, and a country Nurse, who commiserated his condition, and had access through an Orchard to the Castle. The former nourished him with oaten Cakes, which by little pieces she conveyed unto him through a chink; the other gave him suck through a small Cane, the one end whereof he took into his mouth, whilst she squiezed her milk in at the other end. His keepers marvelled to see him still alive; but the means being discovered, the two charitable women were cruelly put to death, the father accusing his own daughter, to prove himself faithful to him that was unfaithful, and a tyrannous Governor. At last, when he had torn his flesh, and eaten his fingers through rage, by death he put an end to his vices, miseries and life. This bitter accident was generally known every where, before the King had any notice of it, every one fearing to be slain for recompense of doing so good an office. Having at last hear●… some whispering thereof, he could not believe otherwise then as it was. Great were the complaints, but the brother excused himself, deluding justice by laying the fault upon divers who were in the castle for faults deserving death, whom he accused for having murdered the Prince, for which they suffered death. The King not herewithal satisfied, but unable to revenge himself, he publicly besought God by some miraculous judgement to punish the author of so great a wickedness. He had yet a second son living, named james, he was advised to send him abroad, since it was not likely he who had committed so horrid a treason; would stick at the murdering of him also; without the which, his former mischief would nothing avail. France was thought the safest place to send him to. The young Prince was with much secrecy embarked: Henry Sincleer, Earl of the Orchades, being given unto him for governor, but having shunned Scylla, he fell (as the Proverb says) upon Carybdis: for the Mariners having cast anchor before Flemburgh in England (either driven by the winds, or to refresh the Prince much afflicted with seasickenesse) they were known to be Scots, & the Prince known to be there, so as he was detained and brought to Court: it was long disputed at the Council Table whether he should be suffered to depart or no, but the negative prevailed. His Father fearing such an encounter, had given him a letter for Henry, which though full of compassion and pity, did not alter the resolution taken. So as he being old, deprived of his sons, and feebly hearted, gave himself over to grief, would take no more meat, and in three days died for mere sorrow. Scotland confirmed the government of that Kingdom upon the Duke of Auboney, till such time as their new King james should regain his liberty. Buchanan accuses King Henry for that action: his chief reason being that he detained him whilst there was yet a truce of eight years between the two Crowns: but I find no other truce then that of the preceding year already expired. Edward Askew treats at large upon this, you may peruse him. This imprisonment by consent of all Scottish writers, was more happy to him then whatsoever liberty; for the King gave him such education as belonged to his birth. The Scotchmen are naturally given to all discipline, as well speculative as active; ingenious at sciences; stout and valiant in war: but this Prince out did them all in aptness to all these, for he surpassed his teachers, aswell in horsemanship, as in Theologie, Philosophy, and other liberal sciences; especially in music, and poetry, wherein he proved most expert: so as that fortune which was thought unhappy, crowned him with glory: for besides the advantage of so good education, he was free from fear of his Uncle, and was in his due time an introducer of learning, politeness, and such arts as were not before known in Scotland: it is to be observed in him, that evil fortune is the best Academy for a man to profit in. A rule which suffered exception in the Earl of Northumberland (whose last actions we must now treat of) for though an old man, he died a scholar in that Academy, before he had learned the maxim of good government; not using patience, but in his vast thoughts (plausible but pernicious counsellors) resolving rather to die, then live declined; a noble resolution in a better cause or upon more mature occasion. He had made many journeys into France, Flanders, and Wales, to 1408 raise up war, and get help against his King; all which proved of no use to him: at last he returned to Scotland, from whence accompanied by Bardolf, he fell with great troops of men upon Northumberland; he there recovered divers Castles, his army much increasing by divers, who from those parts came to assist him; from thence he passed into Yorkshire, where by proclamation he invited all those to side with him who loved liberty: The King at the first noise hereof went to meet him; but hardly was he come to Nottingham, when he understood that Sir Thomas Rookesby Sheriff of that Shire, had given him battle, slain him, and taken Bardolf prisoner, who afterwards died of his wounds. The King did not though forbear to pursue his journey, that he might quench the yet hot ashes of that rebellion: he mulcted many, and put many to death, answerable to the condition of their faults. The Bishop of Bangor, and Abbot of Ails (who were taken prisoners in the conflict) met with different fortunes according to the diversity of their habits. The Abbot being taken in armour, was hanged; the Bishop who was clothed in the habits of his profession was pardoned; the heads of the two Peers were cut off, put upon the top of two spears, and sent to be set upon London bridge: This was the miserable end of the father, son, and brother; descended from one of the noblest races that came from Normandy, into England: all this ruin being occasioned out of a mere capritchio of wrestling with the King, and detaining in his despite the Scottish prisoners, which had not happened had they not believed to have so well deserved at his hands as that they might make him do what they listed: a presumption which hath and will deceive many: for Princes will not be thought capable of such obligation, as that they must acknowledge their being from another; and much less to have their subjects their benefactors: the very thought thereof hath been and ever will be with them mortal. Here all King Henry's adverse fortune had a period; and in this calm he likewise calmed all home suspicions and jealousies; having in the short time he afterwards lived some small foreign armies not to weary him, but to keep him in breath: he had (as wise Princes ought) his eyes every where, he took order for the very least affairs: for negligence in a new and not beloved Prince, is no less the mother of contempt, then is diligence the mother of reverence and respect: many ships appertaining to particular men, were come upon the coast of the Kingdom upon this occasion of war, to lie in wait for pillage, which hindered the Merchant's ships from traffiquing abroad; he gave order for a sufficient fleet commanded by Edmond Holland Earl of Kent, formerly created Admiral, who having scoured the coasts of England, and France, and met with no enemy, he understood they had retired themselves into Brittany, whither he steered his course; he assaulted Briache a place upon the sea side: The inhabitants did courageously defend the place, wounded many of the English, in particular the Admiral himself with a stone in the head, of the which he died five days after; a fatal blow to him, and unfortunate to them; for the assaliants growing more obstinate through this loss, took the Town by force, burned all the houses, and put all to the sword that they found in posture of defence. This Earl was brother to Thomas Holland Duke of Surrey, who in the conspiracy at Oxford, was slain by the Townsmen of Chester; he was in such favour with the King, as besides the restoring of him to his blood, inheritance, and honour, he with much labour and expense, procured him to marry with Lucia Visconte: This Lady was the tenth daughter of Barnaby Visconte, Lord not only of Milan, but almost of all Lombary; the other nine were matched to great Princes; as to Leopald Duke of Austria, the two Dukes of Bavaria, and to the King of Cyprus: so as if the King had not extraordinarily favoured him, it was not a match befitting his fortune: she brought him 100000. Crowns in gold; an unusual portion in those days, and to the last of so many daughters. Cor●…us calls him Earl of Kent, and son to Henry the fourth; believing that any inferior quality was unfit to match with so great a Princess; she being now a widow, and without children, the King purposed to marry her to Marquis Dorset, his brother; but she not liking thereof (he being a man in years and of no pleasing aspect) did secretly marry herself (with hazard of losing for ever all she had) to Henry Mortimer, to whom she bore three daughters, which being all honourably married, left a noble and continued succession. The affairs in France this mean while (the which hereafter must be interlaced with this our story) were come to the period of ruin, so to bring 1409 England to the period of greatness, which had not happened for whatsoever worth or fortune, had not the way been chalked out unto them by the enmity between the house of Burgundy and Orleans: Let me be permitted to make a large relation thereof, since they were the rice of all the disorders that succeeded betwixt these two warlike Nations: we have heard how the Duke of Burgundy having the second time resolved upon the enterprise of Calais, was commanded to the contrary; & that thinking that this affront proceeded from the ill will that Orleans bore him, he was mightily incensed; this anger afterwards increasing, and not able to suffer him his superior, nor the other him his equal, he resolved to bereave him of his life; with this resolution he went to Paris, where he got together eighteen men, the very scum of all the rascality of France, making one Rolletto Antoneville, a Norman, their chief, who having by the favour of the late Duke of Burgundy, father to this present Duke, obtained an office of great moment, had it ta'en from him by the Duke of Orleans; so as the obligation he had to the one, and the loss he received by the other, made him more covet this murder, than did Burgundy; the Queen had bought a house without the gate Barbet, for her recreation, where she was at this time brought to bed, the child being dead, so as she keeping her bed they were sure Orleans would not fail to visit her; they took a house near the said gate, for that he returning by night as of necessity he must do by reason of the shortness of the days, the season being November, they might have opportunity to do that wicked action: the Duke went to make this visit, and they fearing lest in his return he might come some other way, sent unto him a footman of the Kings, one of their number, to will him from the King to come presently to him, for that he had a business to confer with him in, which concerned them both: The Duke who knew the messenger, took leave of the Queen and got on horseback, waited upon only by five footmen with torches, by two gentlemen which rid before him both of one horse, and by a Dutchman, who being come out of pagery, and not having whereon to ride, followed him on foot; the assassinates stood waiting for him in a corner, as the torch light appeared, they came forth upon him, and at the first stroke struck off one of his hands; he cried out I am Orleans, 'tis Orleans that we would have, replied they; wherewithal loading him with wounds, he fell from his horse with his head so cloven, as that his brains fell out upon the stones; the faithful Dutchman desirous to be his shield, threw himself before him, and was soon slain; the horse which was gone before, did so start, when he came near these men, as that huffing and pricking up his ears, he run so hard away, as the two men could not in a long time take him up; having stayed him, and returning back to meet their Master, they might see the Duke's horse with no body on his back, which they led back by the bridle, thinking that the Duke lighting upon such like accident as they had done, might be fallen; but being come unto the place, and by the murderers threatened to be served with the same sauce; they run to the Queen's house, crying out murder, murder; the murderers this mean while having set the house on fire wherein they lay, to the end that their neighbours fright might make their escape more secure, got to the Palace of Artois a house of the Duke of Burgundy's. This news being known through all the City, and first in Orleans house, his friends, and servants, run to the place, where they found his body lying in a sea of blood horribly massacred; they carried the body into the next Church, whither the King of Sicily, and the chiefest of the Court came, sorily lamenting; the next morning his hand and brains being found lying in the street all dirty, they were put together with the body into a leaden coffin, and buried in a Chapel which he himself had caused to be built. At his funeral, three corners of the cloth which covered the Bieare, were held up by the Princes of Sicily, Berry, and Burbony, Burgundy held up the fourth; this feigned charity not corresponding with his unfeigned cruelty; for what ever inquisition could be made, no news could be heard of the assassinates. The Provost being called to the Council table, said it was impossible for him to find out any thing touching this affair, unless he might be permitted to search the houses of the greatest Lords, and especially the Palaces of the Princes: The King of Sicily, Duke of Berry, and Duke Bourbon, were content, but not Burgundy, who not knowing what to say, took the three Princes aside, and confessed that he had been the author of that homicide: whereupon filled with horror and amazement (Berry exclaiming that in one day he had lost two nephews) they left him, keeping the secret to themselves, not knowing without mature deliberation how to publish it: The next day after, Burgundy being come to go to the Council table, Berry in whose house the meeting was, met him at the chamber door, and told him this was no place for him; wherewithal he shut the door upon him, leaving him much confused, a usage he had not been accustomed unto, and what he believed would not now have been used, without resolutions of further consequence, so as fearing to be clapped up in prison, he forthwith returned to his own house, and getting on horseback, & being waited on only by five men, he rid to Bapomus, upon the confines of Artois, the place of his command, and went 42. leagues not taking any rest but what was necessary either to bate or change his horses; from thence having slept a while, he went to Lillo in Flanders; this his unexpected departure, was no sooner divulged, but the occasion thereof was known, the dead Duke had 600. what Gentleman what Knights defrayed by him in Paris, all which were of no use to him, who trusted more in his quality than he ought to have done, he imagined the Duke of Burgundy would have exercised his ill will in public against his power, not by treachery against his person; a hundred of these well horsed, and led by Clegnet of Brabant Admiral of France, would have followed Burgundy: but the King of Sicily, fearing greater inconveniences, hindered their design, not suffering them to go. He who formerly was thought the chief author of this murder, was Albertus of Canni (injured by the Duke who had taken from him his wife, and had by her a son, who proved afterwards one of the bravest Cavaliers in all France) but the known truth freed him of suspicion: all men except the Parisians, detested this fact, but their rejoicing lasted but a while: for the evils they received through the oppressions, and misgovernment of Orleans, were not the hundreth part so bad as those they suffered after by the oppression and misgovernment of the Duke of Burgundy. The Assassinates having changed their apparel, left Paris likewise, and went to Artois, according to the order they had formerly received from their Master. When Valentina Duchess of Orleans, heard this sad news, she hasted to Paris, and kneeled down before the King, demanding justice, which was likely to be granted, for he did tenderly love his brother; but his weakness was such as suffered him to give her no other comfort, save hopes and promises. The Duke of Burgundy having represented the business to the common people after his manner, he published a manifestation thereof; wherein having made known the reasons which had enforced him to this resolution, he pretended to merit thanks and praise, rather than blame or punishment. The two Uncles Sicily, and Berry, fearing lest he might join with the English, invited him to give them a meeting at Amiens, he came thither and caused two lances to be set a cross upon his lodging door, in this manner X which fashioned forth the Burgundy cross; the one of them had a burr used in war, the other such a one as is used at tilting; as if he would by this Hyroglifique say, it should be in their choice to choose peace or war: Their meeting was to no purpose; for (contrary to the King's express inhibition) he went with 4000 men to Paris (where he was with great expressions of joy received by the Parisians) where (to justify his horrid fault) he by the mouth of one john Petit, accused the Duke of Orleans, for having aspired unto the Kingdom, bewitched the King, plo●…ed treachery against his children, and for having made confederacy with the King of England, to make himself master of the Crown of France by the death of his brother, as the other had got the Crown of England by his Cousin's death; for having sowed discord betwixt the King and Queen, ●…o the end that having lost her matrimonial love, her person might be the more at his command; that he had made himself Master of the most considerable places of the Kingdom, putting out the former governor's, and placing others of his own depending in their rooms, that he might make use of them against his brother; that he had procured Pope Benedict to declare the King incapable of the Crown (as Childericus formerly was) that he himself might obtain it: his conclusion was, that being for so many faults guilty of treason, both divine and humane, he was to be declared lawfully slain; and the King out of mere fear, declared him as was urged justly put to death. The Duke having obtained what he desired, returned to Flanders, from thence he went in assistance of the Bishop, and Prince of Liege against the Leigois, who had rebelled against him, he overcame them, and gave them what Laws he pleased, whereby he won such renown, as France had reason to fear him now more than before: for though in his absence the King had permitted the Dowager Duchess to answer unto his accusations, and revoked his pardon, with an intention to punish him; yet understanding of this victory, and that his brothers, and cousins, had declared themselves for him; he disabandoned the people who were gathered together to have forced him, and those who had appeared his enemies, repented themselves for having been so forward. Together with this examining the continuancy of the Parisians (strangely passionate for the Duke) the King resolved to retire himself to Towers; not so much to free himself from their danger, as to revenge himself of them: for the absence of the Court redounds much to their loss, by reason of the profit they receive by its residency with them: at the which being less satisfied, and more offended then ever, they sent for Burgundy, who came to them well accompanied; but his conscience pointing out unto him his injustice, and keeping him in perpetual agitation; he sent his cousin William Duke of Baviers, to Towers, to make him some agreement for him; not out of any acknowledgement of repentance, but out of a desire which guilty people have to bury their shame: and because a war (in such a case always unblamable and unjust) brings ruin if it be lost; and if won, it doth but erect Trophies of shame and infamy, the King sent Lodovick Duke of Baviers the Queen's brother to meet him, and Montaigne Lord high Steward of the household with the articles of agreement. The Duke hated Montaigne, as a main Orleanist, and gave him bitter words which he took patiently: but the articles not being according to his liking, he regulated them; and though they were not afterwards agreed upon according to his corrections; they were yet so handled as that he was contented; for his adversaries having lost all their defence by the death of their mother Valentina, (who died of grief not long before) there was none to oppose him: They being all young orphans, unexperienced, and for want of direction, abandoned by all. Peace being concluded, the parties met at Shartres, where in the presence of the King, Queen, and Dolphin, and Princes, they swore the peace though the young Duke of Orleans, and the Count Virtue, (the Count of Anguleine the third brother not being present, by reason of his infancy) were observed to weep in the doing of it, being enforced by the King, and of years, and power not fit to make refusal. The Duke of Burgundy being together with the Court returned to Paris, and knowing that what was done was not likely long to continue, he resolved to work his own establishment by the ruin of such as favoured the house of Orleans: but being to gild over his unjust intention with the title of justice, directly opposite to the sworn peace, and resolute not to suffer Montaigne live, as one of the chief of them, he caused him to be questioned before the Magistracy, for the administration of the King's moneys, where in his account between figures and cyphers, his head was struck off, and his life was made a cipher. The Duke of Berry who was a Courtier born, & well versed in Court policies, guest at his designs; and not able to endure affronts, as one who had formerly lived with as much or more authority in the government, than any other Prince; withdrew himself to Angeires; whither unsent for, all the malcontents did presently flock: this unexpected assembly caused a speedy confederacy between the Duke of Berry, the Duke of Orleans, and his brother; the Count Clerimont, (now Duke of Burbony by his father's decease) the Count Alencon, and Count Arminiacke; so as the peace of Shartres proved a short lived Ephemera which died the day it was borne, and indeed it was never thought other by the wisest sort: the news of this conjunction did more and more exasperate the Duke of Burgundy: he willed the Lord Albret, constable of France, to raise as many men as possibly he could, making use of the name of the King's safety, to save himself, since he, not the King, was the mark that was aimed at. Albret obeyed, as not able to do otherwise; he was no friend to Burgundy, and a great friend to his enemies, as the success demonstrated. France like a firebrand newly extinguished, took fire again at the approaching of this sudden blaze. Count Richmonte hearing that the colleagues were retired to Shartres, came thither likewise with a great number of men. They first demanded audience of the King: but they wished him to come armed with patience, whilst they pretended to appear before him armed with iron. The Queen who did both hate, and fear Burgundy, did what in her lay to appease them, having to this purpose made two journeys herself in person: but it was not in her power to keep them from coming to Paris: of so much force is desperation, when it hath usurped the place of reason, and advice. They came to the very Suburbs of Marcelles: strange were the disorders which were every where committed by the soldiers aswell of one side, as of the other. But the incommodities and difficulties equally divided, after many 1410 too's and froes, caused a second peace, called the peace of Winchester, wherein was concluded, that both Berry, and Burgundy, were to withdraw themselves from the Court; that when the one should be sent for, the other should be sent for likewise; and that the mean while they should all withdraw themselves, which gave but small satisfaction to the three brothers: for Berry made use of them for his own particular ends, which when he had compassed, he cared no longer for them, and it being a thing usual for the parties offended not to forgive, unless some satisfaction be made; they pretended not to be included in this peace, since in their particular they had received no manner of satisfaction: so as if they swore unto the peace of Shartres it was to obey the King: and if they consented unto this, it was for that they could not do otherwise, being abandoned by all. The Duke of Berry was returned to Burges: and the Duke of Burgundy desirous to calm all the former distastes, sent unto him three Ambassadors, of which the Lord of Croy was chief. They went on their intended way, when met by certain of the Duke of Orleans his people, between Orleans, and Burges, the Signior de Croy was stayed by them, and all the rest suffered to pass: the next day being questioned concerning the Duke of Orleans death, he confessed nothing of prejudice, though he suffered terrible torment. The other two complaining hereof to the Duke of Berry, (to whom the affront appertained) required his freedom, wherein though the King joined with him, neither protestation, threats nor reason could prevail with the brothers. They pretended the peace of Shartres to be invalid, as pursued contrary to the order of Law and Justice: and that the King was compelled thereunto; that the Duke of Burgundy had violated the same, by pursuing, undoing, and putting to death as many of their friends as he could; that the peace of Winchester had been likewise by him in many points broken; that those who had murdered their father, though condemned and banished, did live securely in his territories, and did likewise come at their pleasure into France, no notice being taken of them; and that they were pensioned by him; and that no Councillors nor Officers, depending upon either of the parties, being to tarry near the King's person, his Majesty was not only waited upon by such as had dependency upon Burgundy. The Queen and Duke of Berry did what they could to make a new 1411 accord between them: But Burgundy resolute not to recede from any thing agreed upon at Shartres, the brothers sent a Herald with an opprobrious defiance, wherein they intimated war unto him; and he in another, altogether as bad, did freely accept the challenge: not many years before, he had contracted a friendship with the Duke of Burbony, whilst (his father being alive) he was only Count Clerimont. This present occasion serving for balance to weigh friends, and no friends; he sent a messenger to him of purpose, to put him in mind how they were reciprocally obliged one to another by their former contract of friendship. Burbony having considerately thought upon an answer, detesting his ambition, and being by blood allied unto the three brothers (their father being son to a sister of his) thought it better became him to fail him then them, so as renouncing the pretended confederacy, he declared himself for the brothers: on the contrary side, the two chief Cities Amiens, and Paris, declared themselves for Burgundy: whereupon he possessing the persons of King, Queen, and Dolphin, who were wholly governed by such as had dependence on them, did not doubt utterly to defeat his enemies. Those of Orleans did the first hostile act: They held many places in Picardy, kept by their garrisons, as most exposed to the frontiers of the enemy: but not being thereby so strong as was requisite, they endeavoured by the means of Clignet of Brabant to surprise Retell, and Bapomus; an enterprise of great consequence if it had succeeded. Berry this mean while pretended, at least seemed to be a neuter; the Queen being at Melune, he went thither to come along with her to Paris: but the Parisians thinking him to be no friend to Burgundy, forewarned him not to come, and the more to witness their dislike of him, they broke all the windows and doors of his house, making it unfit for him to come into. The which being done, they recalled the Queen, they likewise broke the bridges which were upon the Scene, to hinder the passage of the Orleanists; and brought the King from Saint Paul's to the Lovure, keeping a good guard about him, to the end he might not be by them surprised, and taken away: so as this infirm afflicted Prince was made a very image by those that kept him and the regal authority was made a cloak to cover the passions of such as did possess him. All which things do clearly show us, that nature hath not endued the common people with the virtue of mediocrity, so as they terrify where they are not kept in awe; pretend to govern if not governed, and where the sceptre keeps them not within their bounds, they will use their free will. But it being no time now to temporise, and the King not able of himself to end the differences or enforce obedience upon two strong factions; it behoved him to do amiss, to shun doing worse, to join with one of them; and not able for want of forces to choose whether, to accept of that side which he could not refuse: for it much availed him to keep sovereignty still on foot (though but permitted) by the help of one of the factions: for it might fall out, that the one faction being defeated might so weaken the other, that the regal forces might prove the master strength. All fit considerations, but in this case deceitful. Factions which are favoured by the people (as was this of Burgundy) not being easily suppressed, the Nobility were by the King commanded to side against the three brothers; so as their affairs being by regal favour abandoned, their hopes were very small: and the Duke of Burgundy being sent for by the Dolphin, his son in law, came into France with 50000. fight men, drawn out of his commons in Flanders; who freer than becomes a free Prince to suffer, would not serve him unless conditionally; as, that their time of service might be limited, and that all such prey as they should make, should be their own; an evident proof that they went rather to pillage then do service: with these sort of people (after he had taken all the Towns that were upon the Soame, from whence all their garrisons fled, having made experience of their cruelty by the example of those of Ham) he encamped, himself under Mondedier, where the enemy was encamped, with intention of giving him battle, and whilst he thought to order his troops (being assured of the victory by reason of his advantages) the Dutchmen having fired their huts, and being loaded with prey and prisoners, returned home; alleging that their time of service was expired; nor was it in his power, by entreaties or fair promises, to detain them one day longer. He was moreover enforced to give them his brother for their guide, till such time as they should come into a safe abode, whilst he himself, with those few which remained with him, retired to Perona. The Orleanists who were resolved to fight, seeing him gone, went towards Paris to endeavour an entrance into the Town, that they might possess themselves of the King's person, without which all their actions (though never so just) were subject to perpetual blame, for the Prince's presence in civil dissensions, is only able to justify injustice, and make a fault meritorious; but it was impossile for them to enter the Town, for the hatred the inhabitants bore unto their father was not buried with him. They had better success in Saint Denis, a Town not above two little leagues distant; where getting leave to come in, they fortified themselves; receiving thereby much commodity to fight with the Parisians. The Duke of Burgundy being during this time gone to Arras, found there Thomas Earl of Arundel, together with Sir Gilbert and Sir Robert Vmfreville, and Sir john Grace, who had brought unto him 1200. Archers, sent unto him by King Henry. They had made a confederacy upon hopes of a marriage between a daughter of the Dukes, and the Prince of Wales: with these and some 6000. more of his own men, he went to Pontoise, where he stayed, to augment his army; which he easily might do: for the King having a few days before proclaimed the Dukes of Berry, Orleans, and Bourbon, the Counts of Virtue, Angolesme, Alencon, and Arminiack, all to be traitors, Charles Albret likewise and all adherents, the soldiers forsook them; of those that fled unto him the Count Pontiure brother to the Duke of Brittany his son in law, was one: having assembled such people as he desired, he came with 15000. horse to Paris, and was met by his brother the Count de Nevers, by the City, by the Council, and at his entrance into the Lovure by the Dolphin his son in law. Having allowed his soldiers a little rest, he sallied forth one night, and recovered Saint Claude, which had been taken by the Orleanists: in which enterprise they used so much slaughter, as that the Orleanists were likewise forced to quit Saint Denis; going away by night with intention to return when they should be reinforced. All that were taken prisoners were put to death; and the dead were left for food to the fowls of the air, for no man offered to bury them, they being by Pope Urbans Bull excommunicated. The Duke now thinking he had no more enemies to molest him, and 1412 that consequently he stood in no more need of the English, he discharged them, to the much amazement of King Henry, who believed him to be a man of greater judgement than this action showed him to be: for he ought to have detained them, had it only been to have obliged Henry unto him, and to have diverted him from joining with his enemies, as he afterwards did; which he had not done, had he not been free of him. The Orleanists had lost many strengths, so as being reduced to extremities, not able to subsist of themselves, they threw themselves into the protection of the King of England, who willingly embraced their offers, which very advantageous to him, the articles of what they offered and of his protection were these. The Dukes of Berry, Orleans, and Bourbon, the Counts of Alencon, and Arminiacke, the Lord Albret and their adherents, did offer for ever hereafter to expose their persons, goods, and forces, to the service of their King of England, of his heirs, and successors, in all his just claims, as oft as they should berequired; by those words his just claims they intended, his claim unto the Duchy of Guenne, and the appertenances thereof; and that the said Duchy did by right of inheritance, and natural succession belong unto him, declaring that they did not stain their loyalty by assisting of him in that affair. They offered their sons, and daughters, nephews, and nieces, parents, allies, and subjects, to be married according to the good will and pleasure of the forenamed King. They offered their Cities, Castles and Treasures, and all their goods, in the aid of him, his heirs and successors, in his pretensions and claims; their loyalty always preserved; as was afterwards declared in letters written, and signed apart. They offered to serve him with all their friends, kindred, and adherents in his pretensions unto, and in the restitution of the said Duchy of Guenne. They did acknowledge that the said Duchy did belong unto the King of England: and that he ought to enjoy it with the same prerogatives, as any of his predecessors had done. They acknowledge that as many Cities, Castles and Strengths as they were masters of in the said Duchy, they held them all of the King of England, as being the true Duke of Guienne, offering to do him homage in most obsequious manner. They promised to give and surrender up into the hands of the King of England, as much as in them lay, all the Cities and Castles which belonged to the Crown, to the number of twenty, as in other letters drawn to this purpose was declared. For the other Cities and Forts which were not in their hands, they promised to buy them out at their own proper cost and charges, and to assist the King of England, and his heirs with a sufficient number of men. It was declared to be the King of England's pleasure (as in other letters signed apart) that the Duke of Berry, his loyal Uncle, subject, and vassal, the Duke of Orleans his subject and vassal, and Count Arminiacke should hold of him in fee and homage the underwritten Towns and Lordships. The Duke, of Berry the County of Poictou, during his life: The Duke of Orleans, the County of Angolesme during his life, and Perigord for ever: Count Arminiacke, the four Castles named in the aforesaid letters, upon condition and security therein declared. That moreover the King of England and Duke of Guienne should succour and defend them all, against all, as their true Sovereign Lord; and in particular, that he should help them to get due justice done upon the Duke of Burgundy. That he should not make any confederacy or accord with the Duke of Burgundy, his sons, brothers, kindred and confederates, without the consent of the said Lords. That he should assist them as his vassals in any just quarrels, especially in receiving satisfaction for the loss and injuries received by the Duke of Burgundy, and his confederates. That for the present he should send 8000. men to assist them against the said Duke, who did all he could to incite the King of France, and his forces against them. These Articles were signed with a caution that they were to pay the soldiers which the King should send; the which being taken into pay he gave the charge of them to Thomas his second son, who was formerly created Duke, together with his other two sons, and his brother the Earl of Dorset. Thomas was made Duke of Clarence, john of Bedford, Humphrey of Gloster, and Dorset of Exeter. He gave likewise order to those who governed under him in Picardy, to wage war there, the which they did. Whereupon the King of France, (who was then at Sens, ready to pass into the Duchy of Berry with an army) gave order to the Count Saint Paul to make thitherward, with as many people as he could get; the which he did, not more out of obedience, than out of the mortal hatred he bore to Henry: but little good came hereof, fortune being always averse unto him in those expeditions. At his first arrival, the English retired to Bullin. The Count resolved to set upon Guines, and to free himself from further troubles: the Town was only strong by reason of the Castle. It's greatest strength was the Palissadoe and the ditch: he hoped to take it by keeping it from being relieved from Caleis. He planted himself by night between the two Forts with 600. horse, giving an assault upon break of day: the battle was very sharp, neither side failing in their duties; but their forces not sufficing the assaliants, thought to help themselves by fire; in one instant 40. houses were seen to blaze. The defendants set upon both by sword and fire, got into the Castle, from whence they poured down darts and stones: so as the winning of the Town not sufficient to complete the victory, and the Castle not being to be won by assault, they retired, many of them being hurt, but few slain, as saith Monstrelet. The King in this interim was gone from Sens, and having taken some Towns which lay in his way, went to encamp himself under Burges, where the confederates were. In his camp of all sorts, and for all services, were 100000. horse. The Duke of Berry, the more to incommodate the assaliants, had caused all houses and Churches which were near the wall, to be beaten down; and if some few remained unpulled down, they were not privileged: for the insolences of soldiers, servants, and freebooters is not to be termed military, but rather void of humanity and religion; a lamentable thing to any one who is not blinded with passion, as was the Duke of Burgony. The Dolphin duly considered all these discords, it greeved him that a City of such consequence, the Metropolitan of two Provinces, Auvergne, and Berry, should be ruinated out of private humours; and that it should be defaced and destroyed, since it was one day to be his; so as removing the camp, after a month's siege, he commanded the cannoneers upon pain of life not to shoot one shot more without his command. At which the Duke of Burgony being troubled, believing that he had compassion on his enemies, did what he could to persuade him, that violence was the only means to reduce rebels to obedience: But being severely answered, that too much had already been done, and that it was time to forbear, those who desired an agreement, were much encouraged, and concluded an agreement upon these conditions; That the peace at Shartres should remain in its vigour and force; that the Count Virtue should marry the daughter of the Duke of Burgony; that the Duke of Berry and his confederates should surrender up all such Cities, and other places as the King should desire; that he should renounce all confederacies, as well at home as forreiny, made against the Duke of Burgony; that the King should restore all their Cities and strong holds, not obliged to repair what was demolished; that their officers and servants should be readmitted into their offices and possessions. And because the brothers of Orleans were not present, their Agents promised for them. The peace being sworn and proclaimed, command under pain of great punishment was made, that the two factious names of Burgonians and Arminiackes should be no more used. The Orleanists were so called: for when Count Arminiack joined with them, his people and all that faction were by the common people called by this name. This business being for this time thus stilled, the King went to Auxerres, whither the Duke of Orleans and his brother the Count Virtue came. They then swore the peace; they renounced all confederacy with England; they accepted of the above said marriage, and showed tokens of reciprocal good will, insomuch that the two enemy Dukes were seen to ride upon one & the self same horse: Their former charges were to some restored. But Count Saint Paul would not surrender up the Constable's place. Whereupon the Lord Albret withdrew himself ill satisfied from the Court. This peace was agreed upon before the English landed in France, which was wisely foreseen by the Dolphin: for agreement would not so easily have been made, if both the Nations joined together had tasted the sweets of any fortunate success. Their arrival was first heard of in Normandy; next in the parts near Constantina, from thence in du maine, and from thence in Touraine: all which places suffered such inconveniences as are usually caused by enemies. Soldiers were every where raised, whilst they only desired to be paid, the only means to make them return home. But the Dukes of Berry and Orleans were so exhausted, as they knew not how nor where to raise 200000. Crowns which they ought them. The King of Sicily left the Court, and went to defend his Country of Anjou from their incursions. The Earls of Warwick & of Kent, arrived at the same time with 2000 men at Caleis; who taking the garrisons of that Town to them, scoured over all the Country of Bullen, and the parts adjacent; and although the Count's Saint Paul's, Ramburres, and others, came thither with great numbers of men, they were rather a greevance, than a help to the poor people of those parts, who suffered such harm by them, as they could not do by the enemy. The King being come to Paris, the Dukes of Berry, and of Orleans, remained with the Queen at the Bois de Saint Vincennes: from whence waiting upon her to Paris, Orleans (not entering into the Town) passed into the Country of Beaumond to raise moneys. And though all other places were restored to him, yet could he by no means get repossession of Perefont and Cousie, the which were held by the Count Saint Paul, who denied to surrender them without a great sum of money, due (as he said) to the garrisons there. Pretences are never wanting where men proceed not with clear intentions: but being necessitated to acquit himself of the Duke of Clarence, he set aside all other affairs; and not able to pay unto him the whole debt, he assigned over unto him in pawn for 209000. francs which remained due to him, his brother the Count of Angolesme, (who was great grandfather to Francis the first) and some other Lords, who being brought into England remained there divers years for lack of ransom. This being done, he sent unto the King for the restitution of the aforesaid places; and obtained letters and directions to that purpose; yet were they not delivered up unto him: moreover fire breaking forth in Perefont it was almost burnt to the ground. To this distaste others were added. The Duke of Burgundy caused Bordinus of Saligni, formerly his favourite, to be carried prisoner into Flanders, suspecting that he had revealed some of his secrets. The bastard of Bourbon ran a danger in Paris, the City rising up against him in favour of certain insolences committed by a butcher. Offices which were to be restored, were not, so as the conditions of peace thus ill observed, men rather inclined to break it again, then to see it thus unworthily peeced. The Dolphin who well weighed these alterations, grew somewhat cool towards his father in law, the rather for that he was continually solicited by the Dukes of Bar, and Bavieres, and by the Count Virtue, to take the government wholly upon himself, and free himself from the servitude of being directed by others. These broils grew to no ripeness during Henry's life, and had they ripened, he perchance would not have delighted in them, for he had 1413 changed his thoughts, and was returned to the same inclinations of nature wherewith he was borne: for having reduced his Kingdom to quiet condition, having no more occasion of being bloody or detested, his actions were grown to that degree of temperance, as there remained nothing more to be desired in him. Justice was administered without distinction of persons: He was affable, liberal, courteous and pious; so as the Nobility and Commonalty did now as much love, as they had formerly hated him, and having set his thoughts wholly upon God, he resolved to spend the remainder of his life in his service, in the recovery of the holy land: judging all other warfare misbecoming a Christian Prince: He had no impediments likely to disturb him from his resolution: he was free from the affairs of France, which he esteemed quieted by reason of the last peace, a peace not likely to prejudice him: that Kingdom being so divided within itself, as it could not hurt him; his own Kingdom was so well united as he had no reason of fear there. The occasions of former seditions were ceased, by the loss of their lives who were the chief occasioners thereof: all ill humours were appeased by the death of such as were the raisers of them. He had four sons all of them of great hopes. Scotland had no King. The Duke of Aubenge to maintain himself in the government was forced to peaceful resolutions. Wales was exhausted, and Glendor dead: so as having made great preparation of Ships, Galleys, and Treasure, he thought suddenly to embark himself, when struck with a sudden Apoplexy, he was forced to take a further journey. I believe that this his devotion touching Jerusalem was occasioned by a preceding prophecy, (if it be true that is said) that he should die in Jerusalem: for being taken with this sickness in the Abbey at Westminster, and carried into the Abbot's next house, as soon as he was come unto himself, he enquired where he was and if that chamber wherein he was had any particular name: Answer was made that he was in the Abbot's house, and that the chamber wherein he was, was called Jerusalem: Here said he must I die: he was put to bed, and his Crown set upon a little table by the bed side: His sickness continuing, and sezed by a violent syncope, all men thought he had been dead. The Prince thinking so likewise, took the Crown and withdrew himself into another chamber: but shortly after he came to himself again, when missing his Crown, and being told that the Prince had taken it away, he caused him be sent for, and asked him how he durst be so bold as to take that which did not belong unto him? Sir (replied the Prince forthwith) I know the Crown is none of mine so long as you live, and may your Majesty live long to wear it: but all we who are here did think verily you were dead, and I being your eldest son, and consequently your heir, took it as the chief thing of mine inheritance. To the which words, the King (fetching a deep sigh) replied, you say well my son: but for what concerns the Crown, God knows, with what right I have enjoyed it. Be it as it will (replied the Prince) you got it by the sword, and by the sword will I maintain it. The King more satisfied with his sons noble resolution, then with his reason, recommended him to the protection of the Almighty, and having given him good exhortations how to live well, he died the 20. of March, Ann●… Domini, 1413. He reigned 13. years and a half wanting five days. He was not borne a King, but did deserve to die one. The end of the Second Book. THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND; IN THE LIFE OF HENRY the Fifth. The third Book. NO Prince was ever borne who did better deceive the Henry the 5. common opinion held of him, than did Henry the fifth. For being in his youth given to much deboychery, it was thought that when he should come unto the Crown, he would have proved one of the most wicked Kings that ever ruled in England. In his valour and daring he deceived none, but was therein always the same: But such qualities, the more they do increase the hopes of good in a Prince of hopeful expectation, the more do they increase the fears of evil in a Prince from whom nothing of good is expected. What is virtue in the one, is vice in the other; from which, as if illegitimate, cruelty, neglect and tyranny do proceed. Henry was born the year 1388. Marry the daughter of Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Northampton, high Constable of England, was his mother: the King his father being then but Earl of Derby. He was first brought up at Oxford, where under the tuition of his uncle Henry Bewfort, Chancellor of that University, and afterwards Bishop and Cardinal: he grew up in learning, wherein he gave signs of a good disposition, by putting an esteem upon learned men; insomuch as when he came to be King, he made Thomas Rodban, a famous Astronomer in those days, Bishop of Saint david's, and john Carpenter a learned Divine, Bishop of Worcester, having known them both, whilst he lived in the University. In the twelfth year of his age, when his father came to the Crown, he called him from his studies, giving the Earl of Worcester to him for Governor: who rebelling four years after, together with his brother and nephew, afforded him occasion of showing his valour in battle against them: Where he so bravely behaved himself, as being hurt, he would not quit the field, though he was much importuned so to do by those that had the charge of him. After commanded by his father to pursue Owen Glendor in Wales, he forced him (as some say) to die of mere hunger. By which actions having prematurely obtained the privilege of being man, and freed himself from the superintendency of others, he was at his own disposal, guided by passions which sprung from the heat of blood; the which in a valiant daring Prince (as was he) produced in the subjects, fear; and in the father jealousy: although the relation between father and son, aught to be composed of lesser jealousy than any other relation of friendship. But this is not to be wondered at: for being borne to egregious acts, and his natural inclinations accordingly framed, erring, he could not err in a mean degree, or medium: mediocrity being an equal enemy to great wits, as well in good as bad. Whence it happens, that changing humours, from best, they become worst; and from extraordinarily bad, exceeding good. His deboystnesse though were not such as are common to youth, nor subject to such desires as effeminating the mind, and dissinewing the strength, have brought many Princes to misery, and to be inwardly hated by their subjects; but certain sprightly extravagancies caused by the incitations of his martial nature, which not knowing in those years how to employ itself, choosed lewd ways of employment. Amongst the pure seeds of virtue which were in him, were certain grains of Darnell, which did almost at the same time bud, and become barren. He took delight to lie lurking in high ways, to steal from himself: for observing the times that his tenants were to bring him home his rents, he would set upon them; yea sometimes to the danger of his life; making them make good in their accounts as much as had been stolen from them: neither could they defraud him; for he himself knew best how much they had lost. And it they chanced to hurt or evil treat him, he liked them the better. Businesses which in England undergo death, are reduced to two heads: Felony & Treason. The last hath respect to the Prince's person, and such things as do depend thereon. The other regards civil affairs, as manslaughter, theft, and such like. It so fell out, that one of his servants that used to accompany him in such like exploits, was taken for felony: he came post to London to save him; and finding that at the very instant he was carried to the King's Bench bar to be condemned, he himself went thither, and commanded the Gaolers to take off his irons, and set him at liberty. The Lord chief Justice, who at his coming had not stirred from his seat, wished him to remember, that that was the seat of his father, King and Sovereign: That his authority was not yet such as might force the freedom of the Prisoner. Not that he did not know him to be Prince, and the King's eldest son, an high and powerful quality, but of no consequence in a business of this nature, it being impossible for him to take from the hand of justice, to the breach of the Law, one who was condemned to die, and more impossible for himself to give way thereunto: he told him therefore he should do well to go the usual way of obtaining pardon from the King. The Prince impatient of contradiction, and who was naturally given to blows, insomuch as he would disguise himself to seek occasion for them, gave the Judge such a cuff in the ear, as would have stunned any one who had been less resolute than he: but the Judge neither frighted with the blow, nor losing his former gravity, said unto him, That the misery done unto him sitting on that seat, was an offence done unto the King, to whom, & to whose Laws, he the Prince was doubly obliged; as a subject, and as a son. That though the offence was great in itself. yet was it greater in his person, and of more dangerous consequence: for when he should be King, he was not likely to find any subject that would obey him, nor Judge that would execute those Laws which he should enact, if he should permit his son and heir to violate them, as it seemed he presumed the King his father would permit him to do: that therefore to the end so enormous an example, might not be alleged for an example, as not punished, he did in his Majesty's name commit him to the prison appropriated to that bench, during his Majesty's pleasure. The lookers on, who were somewhat scandalised, and surprised at the Prince's action, and the Judge's boldness, wondered when they saw the Prince blush for shame, and yield himself prisoner. The King who equally commended his son's obedience, and the Judge's integrity, for this and other his misdemeanours, suffered him to tarry a good while in prison; and the more to humble him, excluded him from the Council table, and made his brother the Duke of Clarence Precedent thereof. But shortly being set at liberty, he betook himself to his former fashions; insomuch as his house being frequented by many great men, and such as were most refractory, his father apprehended danger of an insurrection in him, a suspicion fomented by such as know not how otherwise to win the King's favour but by backbiting, nor better how to make use of their flattery, then by a feigned zeal of their safeties, (the which the more detestable it is, the more dangerous is it for such as are innocent) as likewise by his own remorse of conscience, which objected unto him his usurping the Crown, the mischiefs, miseries, and so many deaths which had thereon ensued: all which might open the way to any one, much more to his son, (his presumed and declared heir) to bereave him of his Crown. And though the reasons of aspiring thereunto, were no better than those he had made use of to achieve it, yet the detestation of things past which had respect only to him, made him think it feasable. And his unjust jealousies falsely grounded upon the Prince his ill nature, seemed unto him consonant to reason, when they represented unto him the true reasons of his own misdeserts: and since no love can be there where fear is, the signs of his hatred conceived against some, were soon discovered by all men; but he who set his private deboycheries aside, never imagined any thing of evil, neither against his father nor the State, being advised by some of the privy Council that loved him, what ill offices were done him, resolved to justify himself: the which he did in the most strange and oddest manner that was ever heard of. He was clothed in a suit of sky coloured satin, all full of eyelet holes, and every eyelet hole had a needle hanging at a piece of silk of the same it was wrought withal: He had upon one of his arms, a masty dog's collar, studded thus S. S. which were of massy gold, with buckles of the same. What he thereby intended I know not, nor have I met with any who doth explain the Allegory. He was attended on by a great many, whereof some were Peers, the rest of the best families of the land. Being come to Court, he left the most part of his followers in the great Hall, with directions that they should come no further than the chimney, attended on only by such as did belong unto the Court; he did at unawares present himself before the King, who through his infirmities had almost lost the use of his legs. He would have spoken unto him at his first arrival, as he had formerly begged leave to do: but the King considering the extravagancy of his habit, and not able to make any good interpretation thereof, caused himself to be carried into a more inward room, followed by such Lords as casually were at that time about him: the which I think he rather did to gain time to think upon the business, then for any fear he had: when his chair was set down, the Prince kneeling down before him, said these or the like words, That the generally spread rumour of some evil impressions his Majesties had of him, caused by some who had deciphered him unto his Majesty as one that had some plots upon the Crown and State, had forced him thus to present himself, to the end that he might receive such resolutions from him as might seem fittest for his service: That his past behaviour had been very bad, he did confess, for he would not deny a truth: but since truth did permit him to gainsay those things which were now objected unto him, he did deny them, for he could not affirm a falsehood. That his obligations unto his Majesty, were greater than were those of his other subjects; so as where he should have deserved the highest punishment if he should have offended him as a private subject, no sufficient punishment could be invented for him, if being his son, he should together with the Laws of God and man, have violated the Laws of nature. That worldly Laws being grounded upon punishment, and fear, and the Laws of nature grounded only upon love, he deserved not to have any share in the world, who (destitute of love) should abuse the subsistence and constitution of nature. That therefore if there were neither Law humane nor divine, this only Law of nature would be sufficient to make him be the most detested creature in the world, if he should not with sincere love, reverence▪ and with reverend respect love his Majesty his gracious father: The which he did not say to justify, but rather to condemn himself, if he should be arrived at such a height of wickedness, as not to detest the unspeakable wickedness, which never having entered his breast, was by the malice of his accusers, hellishly invented against him. That though it were an easy matter to convince them, since they could never prove what he never dreamt of, yet he was not come for that purpose. That he did present himself as guilty, since he was declared to be such, not by his own conscience, but by his Majesty's deluded opinion: that therefore since it was impossible for him to live without insufferable anguish of mind, being subject to such suspicions, he beseeched his Majesty to free him from further vexation with this weapon. Then presenting unto him a dagger by the point, he added, That he would willingly suffer death, if it might cause such quiet unto his Majesty, as his Majesty did believe. That he should not hold his hand out of any consideration of his soul, for he had begged mercy of God, and taken his Christian viaticum; much less out of fear, that this might be imputed as a sin unto his Majesty, for being already satisfied of the humane justice in punishing a guilty person worthy of whatsoever chastisement, for what concerned divine justice, he did promise him (in the presence of those Lords who were by) to be his advocate before the Tribunal of the supreme Judge, in that fearful and terrible day when the secrets of all hearts being known, his Majesty and himself, in the chariot of his innocency, should triumph over the calumnies of other men. The speech being ended, the King threw away the dagger, and with tears of joy embraced and kissed him, and confessed he had done amiss in believing otherwise of him then he ought to have done. He assured him that for the time to come, he would be deaf to all such as should dare to speak against him. But the Prince not herewithal contented, humbly beseeched his Majesty to bring his accusers to the test, that either they or he might receive condign punishment. The King satisfied in the innocency of his son, and unwilling that those who were zealously his, should be punished, appeased his son, saying, that since this business was to be judged by the Peers of the Land, nothing could be done therein till the next Parliament, and that then he should receive such satisfaction, as he justly did demand. Then sweetening him with entreaties, and fair speeches, he made him quit his request, and kept him in his good opinion as long as he lived. These and the like actions generally held dissolute, afforded reason of bad presages, as hath been formerly said, But assoon as he put on the Crown, he turned another leaf, and became excellent in all such virtues as make a Prince famous in peace, and redoubted in war. A change by how much the more rare, the more admired, since thereby the worst of men do prove the best, and types of virtue. He first of all like a good husband purged his house of all uncleanness, and not content to have swept from thence all his debauched companions he did not only forbid them his sight, and further company, but banished them from coming within ten miles of the Court. He put in their places persons of exemplary lives. He placed in his seats of Justice, and in his Council, men worthy of such trust, and joining piety to his policy, he founded Monasteries, and brought the body of Richard the second, from an obscure sepulchre in Langley, to Westminster, where he caused him with regal pomp to be put in a tomb built at his own charge, and Lady Anne of Bohemia his first wife, by him. He sent Ambassadors and Bishops to Constantia, to endeavour in that Council an end of the Schism which had then a long time lasted; and where not long after in stead of three Popes, who reigned altogether, Martin the fifth was chosen Pope, to the great joy of all Christendom. He referred the Lord Cobham who was accused of heresy, to the Ecclesiastical Courts, having given him friendly admonitions (for he had formerly loved him by reason of his valour) from whence being committed over to secular Jurisdiction, he was to have received his last punishment, had he not by some of his friends been secretly conveyed out of the Tower. But that which for the present befell not him, happened to divers others, for many of his opinion having seditiously assembled themselves, and accused of conspiracy, so many of them were taken, as the prisons were not able to contain them, and nine and twenty of the chiefest of them (where one was a Priest) were put to death; the like befalling himself four years after, who was taken about the borders of Wales, and hanged and burnt. He restored Henry Percy, son to Henry hot spur, to his Lands & Honour, having sent for him back from Scotland, whither he was for safety sent in the downfall of his family, he thought it not fit that so noble blood should suffer punishment in the person of a child, who being of so innocent years, ought not to partake of his forefather's faults. It was easy for him to restore unto him his lands, which the King his father had given to john his third son, whom he recompensed with an equivalent revenue. Thus he ended the first year of his reign, in the beginning whereof the Duke of Clarence, who was then in Aquitany, hearing of his father's death, returned home to England, and brought along with him john Count of Angolesme, together with the other hostages assigned over for the Duke of Orleans debt, and was by the King received with a brotherly affection. The Clergy had been practised upon in King Henry the fourth's time, by reason of their great revenues, as being superfluously larger than was requisite for them. In the eleventh year of his reign mention was made in Parliament that they would have been cause of much scandal if the civil wars had not been. The wars being at this present at an end, and men's minds more eager of this then formerly, it was thought good not to lose the opportunity of time: For since the King was addicted to war, it behoved him to raise unto himself a permanent revenue, to the satisfaction of the whole Kingdom. A calculation was made, that leaving to the Clergy what was sufficient for them, the overplus of their revenues was sufficient to maintain fifteen Earls, fifteen hundred Knights, six thousand two hundred Gentlemen, and an hundred Hospitals, besides twenty thousand pound a year reserved for the King's Exchequer; which twenty thousand pound was more then, than an hundred thousand pound would now be. A calculation, which whether true or false, proved a true danger to the Clergy. The remedy was easy, the combination being general, the advantage common to all: for the King, Nobility and Commonalty were to share in what was to be taken from them. A Parliament was called at Leicester, wherein they were threatened. They thought to eschew the blow by making some great offer; but if it should not be accepted of, (for be it what they pleased, it must be much inferior to what was expected from them) they ran a hazard of defamation; as corrupters of the Prince, and so to lose together with their wealth, their reputation, which in so great a loss ought to be kept unspotted for the dignity of their profession, and not to give a colour of reason to the wrong they were to receive. Every one thought the King's warlike inclination would be the Canon which should batter them to pieces; but he not having as yet made choice of an enemy (war with France would be of a vast expense; Scotland was nearer hand, and easier to be invaded, james the first their King being prisoner in England) they thought that his pretensions to the Crown of France, as most proportionate to the greatness of his mind would serve for an argument, and that by persuading him to that enterprise, they should stay the proposition which was to be made against them. The Parliament being met, the Archbishop of Canterbury, a Chertosin Monk, failed not in a well ordered speech opportunely to propound it: his principal heads were, the equity of his Majesty's pretensions, the honour of the King, the reputation of the State, and the occasions now offered of making it feasable, by reason of the troubles that Kingdom was in. In the first he showed how the King was the natural ancient heir of Normandy, Angier, Poictou, Umena, and Gascony, of all which he now possessed only a little part of Gascony. That being heir to Edward the third, he was likewise heir to France, otherwise the title which he thereof assumed would be unjust. He declamed against the Salic Law, as invented in those days, only to exclude England, no mention being made thereof in Chronicles or other memorials; but since I cannot give you the very words, the story necessary requires me to show you the Law in a rough draught, to the end that you may examine the late undertake of Edward the third, or the present ones of this Henry against that Kingdom, be justifiable or no. Edward the second, King of England, married Isabella, daughter to Philip the fair King of France. Philip, besides this his daughter Isabella, left three sons, Lewis Hutin, Philip the long, and Charles the fair: all which reigned Kings one after another; and though Lewis left a daughter named jane, and his wife with child of a son (which soon after died) and that Odone Duke of Burgony Uncle by the mother side to jane, did what in him lay to make her succeed unto her father; yet Philip the long her Uncle (who was crowned in Rheims whilst armed, and the gates shut) having then four daughters, did by marriage appease those Princes who did oppose him; giving his eldest daughter to this Duke of Burgony, together with the County of Burgony (the which by her mother did belong to the said jane) and to Lewis Count of Eureux (the most pote●… Prince of all the adversaries) he gave the same jane, and for her portion the Kingdom of Navarre, the County of Brye, and Shampania, so as the business thus laid asleep, and he afterwards dying, Charles succeeded him, not interrupted by jane, since her giving way to her other Uncle, passed as a ruled case. Charles died, leaving his wife with child; Edward the third, King of England, who was nearest of blood, as borne of Isabella, sister to these three Kings, pretended to the regency, in case the child the Queen went withal should live, if otherwise, to the Crown: On the other side, Philip Count of Vallois, son to Ch●…rles, who was brother to Philip the fair, made the like pretence, as nearest heir male, alleging that the Law Salic which did exclude the women, did likewise exclude such sons as were by them borne. Whereupon the three States gathered together, Philip got the regency, and the Queen Dowager bringing but a daughter, the Kingdom. Edward alleged in his behalf, that this law was never known till then, and then invented to defraud him of succession, no mention being made thereof in the memory of man, nor by any whatsoever ancient Authentic writer. That to give it a being when it had none, and cause it to rise up in one night like a mushroom, was likely not only not to give it a subsistence, but also to make it not to be credited. That he did not deny the succession of the male in all times past, but that the succession of the female sex had not happened to the Crown till these present times. That the relinquishment made by jane to her own prejudice, and pursued without his consent or knowledge, ought not to prejudice him, nor ought it be concluded that she having laid aside her claim to the prejudice of a third, the third should likewise quit his claim to the prejudice of succession. That she had yielded by force, being doubly betrayed by her Uncle, that he mig●…t usurp the Country of Burgony; and by her husband that he might make himself King of Navarre: both of them being contented with the certainty of this gain, the hopes which they might promise unto themselves by war, being uncertain and of less account. That if the Law were fundamental (as they would have it believed to be) it would not have been violated in the two first races. That in the first 1. race, the French writers made a doubt whether Morevius were the son of Claudian or not, and that if he were not his son, it is to be believed (say they) that he was his next a kin; which is as much as to conjecture the one, and doubt of the other. They affirm him to have succeeded not so much by virtue of the Laws, as by the free election of the States, not being aware that the term free election doth contradict the Law Salic, it being impossible that there should be any sort of election (much less free) where the Laws do determine an undoubted successor, otherwise one of two inconveniencies would necessarily ensue, either that the election should annul the Law, or the Law make the election superfluous, the next in blood (all others excluded) being by the Law without election appointed to the Crown. That it cannot be denied that when Childericus 2. was driven out of the Kingdom, Aegidius a Citizen of Rome was chosen King, and that his son Siagrius, after the death of Childericus (who was received as King again) did pretend unto the Crown by virtue of his father's election, which he never would have done had there been such a Law to oppugn him. Clodoveus left four sons, of which one was a bastard; they were all called Kings, not only of such proportions 3. as was left unto them by their father, but of all France, whilst the Law Salic supposeth but one King, and doth not admit of bastards. Dagobert left the Crown of France to Clodoveus the second, his younger son; 4. and to Sigisbert his eldest son, the Kingdom of Austrachia, without any manner of dispute; whilst that the Law Salic aims not so much at the exclusion of women, as to the advantage the first borne son should have over the younger. The same Sigisbert having no sons, adopted 5. the son of his Lord Steward, which he never would have done, had there been any Law Salic. Dagobert the second left two sons behind him, and yet a Friar 6. was taken out of a Monastery, and Crowned by the name of Chilpericus the second. Charles Martellus deposed him, put Dagoberts two sons into a 7. and 8. Cloister, and made Coltarius the fourth be Crowned, who being afterwards deposed, the two brothers reigned Kings one after another. Pipin deposed Childericus, and made himself King, though no Prince of the blood, and come of a bastard. Many other examples are 9 passed over, which happened amongst the Kings of this first race, contrary to this Law, in successions, hereditance, and last wills and Testaments. In the second race, Lewis the stammerer, was succeeded by Lewis and 10 Charlemagne, both bastards, and the latter by another Lewis, whether brother or son to Charlemagne it is not known. This man was succeeded by Charles the great, King of Bavaria, and 11 Emperor, but being deposed by the Dutch from being Emperor, and by the French from being King, Odone Duke of Angiers, of the house of Saxony was substituted in his place. Charles the simple being deposed, and his son Lewis being together 12 with his mother fled into England, Rowland of Burgony obtained the Crown. Lastly Hugh Capet having taken the succession from Charles Duke of 13 Lorraine, second son to the last mentioned Lewis, which fled into England, having thence the name of beyond-sea Lewis, brother to Lotarius, and Uncle to Lewis the fifth, the last King of that race, leaveth it to our choice to think what we please of that Law. No mention is made of any women in these two races, because the case in their behalf was not met withal: but say the case had been found, and that by reason of the rigorous practice of the Law, women have not dared to pretend unto the Crown; by the same reason those who had been excluded would not have dared to have made any such pretence: if the institution of the Law had been thus put in practice. Neither would jane daughter to Lewis Hutin, have dared to pretend unto the Crown, had there been any such thing as the Law Salic. But if there be any argument which proves the falsehood of this Law, 'tis the confusion of writers, who neither agree in the name nor in the author, nor in the place where it was made. A modern writer will not have it called the Salic, but the Gallique Law. The more ancient writers denominate it from the River Sala, from the latin word Sal, contrary to the putrefaction, or from the French word Sale, which is the Hall or Palace of a Prince. Some make the ancient Dukes and Councillors in Germany the authors of it: And some Faramond, in France, so as they leave us nothing of certainty, whereas a fundamental Law ought to be certain, and not imaginary in its foundation. They produce some reasons to justify this Law, which no ways appertain thereunto, whereof three are the chiefest. That the Crown may be established in its own Nation, by the exclusion of strangers. That Posthumes may be reverenced even in their mother's womb, and notwithstanding their infancy, made Kings: and that nature affects the masculine inheritance, which was the cause why the Jews permitted no succession to women. The first reason would surely be good, if together with its utility it were likewise just, if the Law had been made in the beginning of the Monarchy, or in a time when it had not been to any one injurious, there could be nothing said against it: but being sprung up in an instant, never written nor spoken of before, it becomes very bad, not only as false but as feigned to the prejudice of natural heirs, and the utility thereof proves the injustice, since what is useful, and what is just, if not always, are for the most part contraries. Laws were instituted to curb unhonest utility, which if suffered, there would be no safe commerce, nor living in the world. The second reason is in part superfluous, in part false: superfluous, because younger brothers, though Posthumes are preferred before their elder sisters, even in those Kingdoms where women do inherit: false, because between Lewis the stammerer, and Charles the simple, who was his Posthume, there reigned four Kings, Lewis and Charlemagne both bastards, another Lewis and Charles the great; which proves it not true that they are made Kings notwithstanding their infancy: The third contains two points, that the masculine inheritance is according to nature, and that the Jews did never at any time permit inheritance to women: The one and the other false. They confound nature, and her institutions, with fortune, and the institutions of civil Laws, taking nature otherwise then she ought to be taken, for she ought to be considered in her pure principal, not in the accidents which do accompany her: then thus considered, nature cannot (were she thereunto willing) exclude the female sex from inheriting, since she hath no other form of government, than what concerns the father of a family: Moreover, women being conceived, borne and brought up as are men, it was never his intent who made them equal in generation, to make them inferior in conservation; which he should do, if the goods of fortune (by means whereof we live after the introducing of civil Laws) and the municipal Laws (whereby they are differently regulated) depended upon nature, so as who doth exclude them, doth it by virtue of these Laws, as are likewise in divers places excluded, the second borne, though men. That the Jews did not permit inheritance to women, is likewise false, read the 27. Chapter of Numbers, where you will find God said unto Moses, The daughters of Zelophead spoke right, and that he should give them a possession of inheritance among their father's brethren, and that he should speak unto the children of Israel, saying, If a man die and have no son, than ye shall cause his inheritance to pass unto his daughter; and if he have no daughter, than ye shall give his inheritance unto his brethren; and if he have no brethren, than ye shall give his inheritance unto his father's brethren; and if his father have no brethren, than ye shall give his possession unto his kinsman that is next unto him of his family. Moreover, Jesus Christ was the son of David according to the flesh, by the woman's side, not the man's. The Archbishop having with these and the like demonstrations, made good the pretence to France, and consequently the war, he added three examples which argue against the antiquity of this Law. Pepin and Hugh Cappet, to make their usurpation justifiable, endeavoured to prove their descents, the one from Betilda, daughter to Clotarius the first, the other from Lingarda, daughter to Charlemagne, and Saint Lewis had never peace of mind till such time as he was certified that Isabella his grandmother by the mother's side; was the lawful heir of Emendarda, daughter and heir of Charles Duke of Lorraine; for being conscious to himself, that the Duke's exclusion from the Crown, was unjust, he thought himself not rightly possessed of the Kingdom, save in the right of his grandmother, upon whom the rights of Charles fell, and consequently upon him, as heir to her. At last he made his intended offer in general terms, promising that if the King would resolve upon this enterprise, the Clergy would give him such contributions, as greater were never given by them to any of his predecessors. This enterprise, the reasons thereof, and the offer made by the Archbishop, did so far prevail with the King, as that Ralphe Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland, Lord Warden of the Marches, confining upon Scotland, fearing lest the King would be persuaded thereunto, and that by taking along with him the flower of all the soldiers, small forces would remain with him to oppose the endeavours of that Kingdom, did thus oppose himself to what the Archbishop had said. He confessed the enterprise to be just and honourable, but dangerous and full of hindrances. He showed that preposterous proceedings were the overthrow of all undertake, and that to fight with France before that Scotland was subdued, was the most preposterous course that could be taken. That to make trial of fortune in a foreign Estate, whilst the State at home was subject to alterations, was a resolution no ways agreeing with wisdom. That it was to be believed that Scotland that had never let slip any advantageous occasion, would much less pass by this so fair a one, presented unto them, by the King's absence, and the absence of the chief of the Chivalry of England. That though it were granted, that Scotland being without a King, and in some sort divided within itself, might in likelihood be careless in other affairs, yet would it not neglect this, as not permitted so to do by their ancient confederacy; and when they were not by obligation tied to this, yet moneys, assistance, and chiefly their own safeties would force them unto it, since it was not to be doubted that the diversion of Scotland being one of Frances chiefest defences, the French would not abandon her: for if she should be lost, or weakened, they themselves would suffer a great loss, and diminution of strength. Since than her safety, obligation, and so many other several obligations were in question, upon the which her good or bad did depend, she would not stand idle: The which being granted, it would necessarily follow, that the one war would produce the other: with this difference, that France could assist Scotland but in part, whereas Scotland could totally assist her: France could not so fully assist Scotland by reason of her distance, and that her aides would be weakened by pawses and interruptions they might meet with by the way; and that by reason of her infirmities she was unfit to make a diversion by open war; that Scotland on the other side was not only free from these inconveniences, but sure to make an open diversion, notwithstanding whatsoever opposition; so as making war with Scotland, though she might be strengthened by auxiliary forces (which are always hateful, and full of jealousies) yet one only war was made, and in France two: for since his Majesty could not pass over the sea without weakening England, it would so fall out, as being infested he must be forced to quit the war with France, and undertake the other, which at first ought to have been undertaken: the which could not be done without the loss not only of reputation, but of much treasure, which would there be fruitlessly spent. That the events of war being doubtful, the least difficult was to be chosen: so as rather than to think of conquering France whilst Scotland might divert them, they should hope to conquer Scotland: if England being free from foreign diversions, should bring all her strength against those parts only: otherwise she were likely to find to her cost, that to buckle with an united body, separated from the sea, of insufferable expense, with a thousand hazards of fortune, sickness, winds, deaths, want of victuals, and munition, would prove infinitely dangerous; the rather for that she should leave behind her an indefatigable warlike enemy; which was not likely to meet with any incommodity (supplies being to be had in every house) not subject to winds, nor tempests, in a time when that Kingdom being without a King, and ill satisfied with the government, she was to be presumed not able to withstand so valorous an undertaking. And if Edward the thirds past victories in France, and those of the black Prince his son, did tender men's minds confident, let them remember that fortune was fickle, and that those who dreamt that the world was eternal, did not fancy to themselves that all things should return to their former condition till after the slow revolution of 36000. years, he concluded that if England would make a successive war in France, she must first conquer Scotland. These two opinions might have been balanced, had it not been for the third Marquis Dorset, the King's Uncle, which overthrew the latter of the two: This Gentleman was a good Scholar, for the Duke of Lancaster his father (who thought to have destined him to the Church) had caused him to be brought up to his book, the which being added to his travels in divers Countries, especially in Italy, had settled his understanding, which guided by the two great Masters, speculation and practice, could not choose but render him perfectly wise; he repeating what had been alleged by the Earl, and arguing against the reasons he had brought, showed that Scotland had the same relation to France, as boughs to the tree: the Nobility of Scotland being maintained by pensions from her, and the young men thereof bettered by her military discipline, so as to take away the bud, you must cut down the tree: that give the conquest of Scotland for granted, more difficulties would be met withal in the keeping of it, then in the defending the borders of England, whilst war was made elsewhere: for Scotland being in some parts inaccessible, in other parts savage, and wholly an enemy, would continually produce some new motions, being encouraged by assistance, and moneys from beyond the seas: That she had never endangered England in former times, upon the like occasions, but had been sufficiently endamaged. That Malkin was slain whilst he would make use of William the seconds absence, who went to wage war in Normandy; and David Bruce was taken prisoner whilst Edward the third was at the siege of Caleis: that it is true the like doth not always happen, but that therefore worse success should not be feared, whilst the enemy's forces are not augmented, nor our own diminished; the which was now so far from being so, as that they were without a King, and in a molested government, whilst France was in no better estate; for to boot with the war which would distract her, she was molested by the infirmity of her head, and the corrupted humours of her principallest members; That France did afford many advantages to whosoever should assault her, as seated in a climate abounding with all good things: whereas the sterility of Scotland afforded nothing but inconveniences, sufficient to beat back her assaliants. That England could but for a while keep footing there, being to be beaten back by the two urgent pieces of artillery, cold and hunger: That wit and valour would there lose the day, enforced not by problematical fables, of fatality, and destiny, but by the real and apparent necessity of nature; since than no invasion was to be feared from thence, to what purpose should the enterprise thereof be undertaken, if being subdued it would neither cause less peace nor more trouble, then whilst left at liberty war might be elsewhere made? for being fenced by the situation, sterility, it's own and other forces, it would always afford occasion of beginning afresh, to the end it might never begin, much less ever make an end with others. That therefore to leave the confines well guarded, and take in hand what was propounded, was the only resolution now to be taken, as that which alone was conformable to the justice of the cause, the reputation of the King, and the reason of arms, since England should never think to subdue Scotland, if she did not first subdue France. No sooner had the Marquis expressed his reasons, but the Parliament did unanimously agree upon the war with France, so far forgetting the business of the Clergy, as no man thought any longer of it. The King having created his two brethren john, and Humphrey, Dukes, the one of Bedford, & the other of Gloster, and the forenamed Marquis, Duke of Exeter: following the wont course of first denouncing war, before the undertaking of it, dispatched away this last Duke, together with the Admiral Grey, the Archbishop of Dublin, and the Bishop of Norwich, as Ambassadors to France, whither they went, accompanied with 600. horse, and were received with great pomp, & royally feasted by King Charles, who finding himself then well disposed, would in their presence run at tilt against the Duke of Alencon. The jollities being over, in solemn audience they demanded of him the restitution of the Crown, together with such Provinces as did of old belong unto the inheritance of the Kings of England, namely the Duchess of Aquitany, Normandy, and Angius, the Counties of Poictou, and Vinena, with this caution, that if he would give unto King Henry, his daughter Katherine, together with the aforesaid Dutchies and Counties for a portion, that then he would lay aside all other pretences; but if he did deny this, than Henry was resolved to do what in him lay by force of arms to repossess himself of his right. These demands were long advised upon, to find out the marrow of the business, but the Ambassadors standing firm to the conditions agreed upon between john King of France, and Edw●…rd 3. King of England, at Bretigny; answer was made, that a business of so great weight was not to be answered in an instant; That assoon as it would be maturely discussed, the King would send his resolution by express Ambassadors of his own. King Henry took this delay, as an express denial, and sent word unto the Dolphin, who had sent unto him a chest of tennis balls (as who should say he thought him only fit for sport) that within few months he would requite his present, and restore unto him balls of iron, for balls of clouts, which should be so tossed as France should have small reason to glory in her good walls. And losing no longer time, he began to raise moneys, munition, victuals, artillery, and soldiers, and hired a great number of ships from Holland and Zealand, for his transportation. King Charles was this mean while relapsed into his accustomed trances, so as the Dolphin understanding what preparations King Henry made, did himself likewise prepare for war, not forbearing though to send him a solemn Embassy (as was by the Council resolved on) by the Duke of Vandosme and Archbishop of Burges. Their instructions were to approve of the marriage, and to propound in portion certain territories of no great consequence, supplied by a great sum of money, upon condition that all other pretences abandoned, peace might ensue. The King who was at Winchester, going to his army, when he understood their arrival stayed there to give them audience, the which he publicly did, and after having feasted them at his own table, he by the Archbishop of Canterbury answered them, that if the King of France would give unto him his daughter, endowed with the Dutchies of Aquitany, Normandy, and Anjou, and Touraine, and the Counties of Poictou, Vinena, together with the rest that the Kings his predecessors had by right of inheritance possessed in France, he would accept of her, and peace: if otherwise, he would endeavour to acquire them by force, and together with them the Crown, which did of right belong unto him. This being with much impatiency heard by the Archbishop of Burges, who could not hide his anger, he desired leave to speak freely; whereunto the King giving way, with an inflamed countenance, and angry voice, he said, That if he did believe the King his Master had made him this offer, as fearing his forces, he believed amiss; 'twas the compassion of Christian blood that had moved him to it; that he erred in his presumption, to think that he alone was able to injuriously oppress the noblest and most redoubted King of Christendom, who by his own forces and those of his subjects and friends, was not only likely to resist him, but to take him prisoner, and kill him, and to expose such as should follow him to the scorn and fury of the French Nobility; he further desired a safe conduct that they might return without molestation, and for aught else they would not trouble him. The King who with much patience had listened to what the Archbishop said, replied, That he was nothing at all affrighted at his anger, much less at its being sustained by the forces he alleged. That his claim was known to all the world, and by them themselves, though they feigned the contrary. That the power of their King was to them as the morning twilight, whilst they had not seen the noon-tide of his strength: That if Charles had subjects and friends he thanked God he lacked none. That he should be confident that ere long the highest Crown of their Country should be forced to bow to him, & the proudest Mitre (meaning the Archbishop) to bend the knee before him. That they should say to the usurper Charles their Master, in his behalf, that within three months he would come into France, not as into a stranger's house, but as into his own lawful patrimony, to vanquish it by the sword, not boasting words. That they might be gone with this answer, which he would give unto them under his hand and seal, as likewise their safe conduct, the only thing of reason they had required of him. Assoon as they were gone, the first thing he did, was to secure the confines upon Scotland, by adding to the Earl of Westmoreland, the Lord Scroop, Lord Greystock, and Sir Robert Vmfrevill. The last of which desirous to try his fortune, set upon the enemy of Godering, where he slew 600. of them, and took 300. prisoners; whilst the King sent a Herald into France with new letters of defiance, who having access unto the Council, but not unto the King, departed with this reply, That answer should be made in time and place convenient. The King was a shipboard in Antona, when he was informed that the Earl of Cambridge, the Lord Henry Scroop, and Sir Thomas Grey, had conspired his death. This was the only mischief undertaking against him (though in vain) by the raging blood of Civil ware. More certainly would have been endeavoured had it not been for the wars with France, which hindered such attempts; whilst it served for a cauter to the bad humours of England. This Prince's misfortunes were put over to those that followed him; for the cautery being closed up after his death, produced such sickness, as slew his son and grandchild, as we shall see in the second Volume. The three Conspirators were apprehended. The first was grandsonne to Edward the third, cousin german to Richard the second, and Henry the fourth, and brother to the Duke of York; a Prince of great expectation; one of whom England and the King himself, did promise unto themselves deeds worthy of his birth in these present occasions, he easily confessed (I will not say) the truth, but that which being likely to be true, redounded to his advantage that it should be believed. He confessed that he and the other two had been bribed by great sums of money received by the way of anticipation, which caused them resolve (since it was impossible for them to deliver him alive into the French men's hands) to kill him, before he should set footing in Normandy. This did very much afflict the King: he thought it improbale that men of so great fortunes should be capable of so base corruption: for in his person they betrayed their Country, exposed the very flower of England to the slaughter, and cut the very nerves of the fortune of the land. He bewailed the fault, but did not perceive the true occasion of the treason, which if he had done, he had perhaps by rooting out the house of York, prevented the ruin which was a framing against his house of Lancaster. But humanity attains not to the secrets of above; and if it did, it is not wise enough to divert the wisdom of heaven. God is as well the reward of good in thousands, as he is the punisher of evil in the third & fourth generation. In Richard the 2. he punished the death of Edward the second. In Henry the sixth and his son, the death of Richard the second. In Edward the fifth and his brother, the death of Henry the sixth and his son. And in Richard the third, the death of Edward the fifth and his brother; and yet he was pleased to suffer those to die in peace which were the authors thereof. I would not place Edward the third in this number, if his mother's fault did not in some sort lay upon him the aspersion of parricide. Henry the fourth, who murdered Richard the second, and Edward the 4. who murdered Henry the sixth, remained all unpunished. But to Richard the second he denied life, & perhaps repentance, his inhumanity not deserving successor, nor pardon. And though he died a violent death, yet not so ill as he deserved, for who doth live through cruelty, should through cruelty die. It was not credited that the Earl of Cambridge was corrupted by France (as he himself said) but of his own accord: for being married to Anne, great grandchild to Lionel Duke of Clarence, and sister to Edmond Earl of March, to whom the Crown did of right belong, his design was to kill the King, and his brethren, that so he might make his brother in law, King, who having no children, nor in a capacity of having any, he and his son were to succeed in the right of Anne, so as fearing lest to confess the truth, might endanger his heir's life, he framed this fable, He and his complices were beheaded. And though he was pitied by all, yet his resolving upon so wicked a deed, in the nick of so important a business, to the common loss and danger, did much abate their commiseration: for his death was thought expedient for the life and safety of King and and subjects. Walsingham writes, that the Lord Scroop, Lord Treasurer (whose hypocrisy had won so much of credit with the King, that nothing was done without his approval) was he who was corrupted by the Ambassadors of France, and that the other two received their infection from him. That the Ambassadors being returned home, reported that they had so ordered the business, that King Henry was as then either diverted from the enterprise of France, or slain. A manuscript cited by john Speed saith, that the King of France gave them a million of Crowns, that they might either kill him, or deliver him up prisoner into his hands, and that the Earl of Cambridge desirous to draw the Earl of March unto his party, revealed the design unto him, forcing him by threats to swear secrecy; and that having obtained one only hour for resolution, the Earl of Marsh accused him unto the King. The sentence of death which in history is recorded, saith, That it was so wrought, as that the Earl of Marsh should take upon him the government of the Kingdom, in case Richard the 2. were dead (there remained still an opinion that he was yet living in Scotland) and that he should be proclaimed heir to the Crown in opposition to Henry of Lancaster, usurper. The which doth partly correspond with the manuscript, as likewise that the Earl of Marsh was the accuser: it being probable, that having no children, and void of ambition, and of a peaceful condition, he would not hazard his life to satisfy his brother in law's ambition. But it is not possible that the King of France should have paid this money; for if so, it would have been found after the delinquents death, and some mention would have been made thereof. Moreover the revenues of France in those days not amounting by much to so great a sum, it must of necessity either be taken out of an already gathered treasure, or from the common people's purse, not from the treasury; for Princes lay up treasure only in peace, and by good government, both which were a long time unknown to that Kingdom. Not from the purse of the common people, for it was impossible in such an instant, and with so much secrecy to have drawn it from them. So as for what appears to me, the reasons alleged in their sentence ought most to be believed, the rather for that King Henry did never upbraid King Charles, nor the Crown of France with so ignominious an act. The truce between these two Kingdoms ended the second of August, whereupon such English as were in the garrison of Calleis, and other frontiers of Picardy, were the first who began the war, sallying forth the very next day, sacking the frontiers of Bolonia, and places next adjacent. Five thousand soldiers under the command of Monsieur de Rambures, general of the crossbow-men, were sent to defend the Country. But King Henry did not weigh anchor till some days after, and came to Normandy the Eve of the Annunciation. His fleet consisted of 1500. ships, his army of 6000. men of arms, and 24000. Bowmen, furnished with all such artillery and provisions, as humane diligence, and the power of so great a King could assemble for such a design. He cast anchor at Cape Caux, and landed without resistance, having by public proclamation commanded that neither Church, Monastery, women, children, nor any other person whosoever that had no arms, should be molested upon pain of life. The next day he went to sit down before Harfleur, a Town situated upon the mouth of the River Sens. The chief Lords of his army were, the Dukes of Clarence, Gloster, Exeter, and York, the Earl Martial, Arundel, Oxford, Suffolk, Warwick, and others. The Town was commanded by Monsieur de Etouteville, afsisted by Messieurs de Blanville, Bacheville, Ermanville, Gallart, Bos, Clere, Bestu, Adsanches, Briote, Gocurt, Illeadam, and many other Knights and Gentlemen, to boot with which were 400. men of arms, besides the inhabitants who all made what resistance possibly might be. The King of France dispatched away the Constable Albret, the Marshal Boniquot, Henaut, Ligni, and others to fortify the sea Towns with men and artillery. The garrison of Harfleur assoon as they understood of the enemy coming, dug up the way which leads from Monteviller to the Town, so to make the enemies march more difficult, and sallying forth to skirmish with them, they had much ado to get back into the City, so many were their opposers, and in such number the arrows which shoured down upon them. But notwithstanding all impediments, the English pitched their camp, and planted their artillery upon the most advantageous places. The place was well fortified with walls and turrets, together with a broad and deep di●…ch, the defendants resolve to maintain it whilst there was any the least hope. Those who were sent to secure the maritime places, did what in them lay to hinder the booties, which notwithstanding all their diligence, the besiegers did every where take. All the good they did, was to preserve the neighbouring Towns from being taken. The victuals in the English army being almost wholly corrupted by the sea, they must have suffered much scarcity, had they not made great booties of men and cattle. The King of France was come to Vernone, between Paris and Roen, levying men from all parts to succour Harfleur; The which being furiously assailed, the gates, walls, and turrets, almost all beaten down, their mines ready to play, and the powder which the King had sent unto the town surprised by the enemy: they of the town brought to such a pass, as they were not able to withstand a general assault: a great many of them being slain or sick, they agreed to yield themselves, their lives saved, leaving all other things to the discretion of the besiegers, if they were not succoured within five days. Bacheville brought these news to Charles, who finding himself weak, permitted them to do what they were by necessity enforced unto, so as the five days being past, they threw open the gates, after a siege of 37. days, wherein they suffered very much. Harfleur was the chiefest Port Town of all Normandy. The Town was sacked, quarter was given to the soldiers, and Citizens, who demeaned themselves well. The women, children, and religious persons, were all put out of the Town, the poorest sort of them having six pence a piece given them. The great and rich spoil was sent into England, as a witness of good success: Whereupon people of all conditions flocked from England thither, who besides other privileges had a house of inheritance allotted to every family, so as the City was in an instant peopled by the English. The King made his entry without any solemnity, walking a foot to Saint Martin's Church, to thank God for that victory. He made the Duke of Exeter governor thereof, who chose for his Lieutenant john Falstofe, and for his Councillors the Lord Carew, and Sir Hugh Luterell, and put therein a garrison of 1500. soldiers, besides horsemen. A great many sick people were sent back to England, amongst which the Duke of Clarence, the Earl Martial, and Earl Arundel, the Earl of Stafford, the Bishop of Norwich, Lord Molins, and Lord Brunell died of a flux in the siege. That which imported more than all the rest, remained yet to be resolved on. The King undertook this business about the end of summer, who came not to Normandy till the 14. of August, so as to continue the war as was requisite, was impossible; and so much the more for that winter came early and more eagerly in, than it had done some years before. To pass the sea again, if it were not a kind of running away would at least be proclaimed such by the enemy. To keep in Normandy within the small precincts of Harfleur, was impossible, the incommodity of victuals being considered. That which was resolved upon was to march to Calleiss through the heart of the Country, and through the enemy's forces: a resolution no ways necessary, as for lack of other means, but most necessary for what concerned the honour and reputation of arms, of 30000. fight men who had past the seas from England, there remained but 15000. 2000 men at arms, and 13000. bowmen; The rest were either dead of fevers or flux, or sent back into England, or left in garrison at Harfleur: so soon then as the ruins of the Town were repaired, that things necessary were provided for, and that such prisoners as had not paid their ransoms, had sworn to come unto the King to Calleis on Saint Martin's day, he commanded that those who were to follow him, should carry along victuals for eight days. And crossing the Country of Caux and En, he marched apace that he might get to the bridges of Soane (which he necessarily was to pass) before they should be broken. A bold resolution, and which not seconded by good fortune, might have been esteemed a rash one: for the Dolphin took from the Country all manner of provisions, and placed great troops of armed men in all parts to annoy him, and caused the bridges to be broken, hoping that wanting wherewithal to live, he would be forced either to yield himself, or fight: whereas according to the common maxim, in case they had been wanting, he should have built him bridges of silver to pass over. King Henry finding the bridges broken, turned towards Beauquene, to the same Ford between Peronne, and Corbie, which Edward the third his great grandfather, passed over before the battle of Cressi: But infinite were the dangers he ran; the enemy in his face, at his back, and on all sides, yet did he march in so good order, as that he passed the Ford not receiving any damage, so saith Duplex. Mostrelate says that finding the Ford strongly guarded, he passed forwards towards Eraigne, burning, and making booty wheresoever he went, from thence to the bridge of Rhenus; and not able to pass there (for it was bravely defended by Monsieur du Vaucourt, the Master of the place) he went to Hangest upon the Soane, from thence to Ponteau de Mere; from whence turning backward he came in the sight of Amiens, to Voicre, and to Betencourt, where he made his passage, those bridges not being broken by those of Saint Quintane, according as they had been by the King commanded: they not perhaps believing that he would have taken so great a compass, to have come thither. It was resolved in Council (which kept still with the King in Roa●…) to give him battle: And the King himself being now free of his malady, resolved to be the leader. The Dolphin would by all means be there likewise, nor for aught could be said to the contrary, would he alter his resolution: But the old Duke of Berry, who had been present at the business of Poctiers, after he had in vain laboured to dissuade as well from the giving of battle, as from that the King and Dolphin should be present at it, not being able to prevail in both, prevailed in what was of greatest importance, making it as apparent as day, that since to give battle was of eminent danger, there was less of harm in hazarding one loss then two. Whereupon the father and the son being appeased; the Constable was commanded to fight; the which being divulged, all the neighbouring Nobility flocked to the army, which growing hourly greater and greater, did never lose sight of the enemy, coasting along the other side of the River till coming near Artesia, the Constable sent word to Count Caraloise, that the battle being resolved upon, he did invite him to partake of the victory. Answer was made to Monsieur Mongaguire (who was the Ambassador) by Count Carallois his Councillors, that all diligence that might be, should be used that he might come. The young Prince thirsted for nothing more; but his governor's, though they seemed to prepare for his going (order being given to the Nobility that they should come to accompany him) having received express commission to the contrary from the Duke, did otherwise then they had promised, deluding the second messengers, who with a herald were sent to resollicite him. And to the end he might neither know of the day of battle, nor where the army was, they made him go to Air, a place out of the way, so as the Nobility and Gentry which expected his coming, finding that they were only fed with hopes, went of themselves unto the army, and the young Count's governor's were fain to stop his tears, by making known unto him his father's express inhibition. The Constable, who together with the Marshal Bonciquot, saw himsel●…e environed with so much Nobility, with so many troops of horse and foot; and that the very Princes themselves in opinion of their valour and experience, had willingly yielded the command to them, coveted nothing more than combat: so as fearing lest the King (who had already passed the River) might escape them, they sent to offer him battle: his answer was; That he had not learned to accept of the opportunity of fight from his enemies; that he went to Calleiss; That if they durst assail him, at their perils be it, they should then find that his Army was composed of able Warriors. But the Constable thinking that to set upon him in the present posture he was in, would be to his disadvantage, and that the answer though in appearance generous▪ foreshowed a hidden fear, warily dissembled, marched on before him; whilst the King marching at leisure came in three days to Blagni, where understanding that the enemy was encamped at Agincourt, he encamped himself at Maisoncelles, not above three bow-shootes from them, where his soldiers half dead with hunger, wearied and frozen to death (for they had not time to provide for fuel) spent all the night in confession, communion, and other spiritual exercises, as if it were the last night they were to live; so as their soul's comfort much encouraged them, the which they witnessed by the continual music of their trumpets which never ceased to sound till the break of day; whilst the French Camp put up with confidence, and buried in sleep, buried all their mirth in silence, the very horses not so much as neighing, so as some of them fuller of imagination than the rest, took it as an ill omen; it being almost incredible that in the number of 150000. horse which were then in the army, what for carts, wagons, artillery, and other war affairs, there should want instruments to out do the Tantaraes' of the enemies contemptible camp, or at least voices to drown them. And this devotion whereof we have spoken, though voluntary, was augmented by the King's example, who ever took special care that God should not be offended, insomuch that one of his soldiers having in his journey stolen the tabernacle wherein the hostia is kept, out of a Church, he would not quit the place, till it was restored, and the fellow hanged upon a tree; which action being divulged in those parts, the Countrypeople strove who should soon furnish him with victuals, though they had strict command to the contrary: of such efficacy is religious justice, yea even amongst enemies. The five and twentieth day of October was come, wherein the French promised unto themselves undoubted victory, and the English to lose their lives at as dear a rate as they could, resolute rather to die then to be wanting to themselves. Those scorned these, and these feared not those, but recommended themselves to God, who was only able to save them. The Constable made three great squadrons of his men. The vanguard reserved for his own leading, was composed of 8000. gentlemen, armed from head to foot, of 4000 archers, and 1500. crossbow men, placing two wings upon the flanks, the one of 1600. the other of 800. choice horsemen. Here were placed the Dukes of Orleans, and of Bourbon the Counts of Yew and Richmond, the Marshal Bonciquot, the general of the crossbow men, and the admiral Dampiere: the wing of 1600. was commanded by the Count de Vandosme and that of 800. by Clugnet of Brabant, William de Sanenses, and Lewis of Bourbon. The main battle of equal order, and number, was conducted by the Dukes of Bar, and Alenson, and by the Counts Nevers, Vademont, Blamont, Salines, Grampree, and Roussi: The reereguard exceeded the other in number, but was composed of men less experienced, the flower of all the army being put in the two former squadrons: It was conducted by the Counts Omalle, Marle, Dammartin, Fouchingburg, and Louray Captain of Ardres, so as not reckoning the rearward, the Vanguard, and the main battle were composed of 20800. horse and 11000. archers and crossbow men; the three squadrons seemed to be seven times as many as were the English. King Henry seeing him troubled in the ordering of themselves, and that they did not presently set upon him, as he expected, gave order that his soldiers should eat, before they should be put into battle array; and because they were so far inferior in number to the enemy, as that of thirteen thousand archers, and two thousand men at arms, a great many were sick, insomuch as to divide the remainder into several squadrons were to make them very small ones, he resolved to put them all into one body, placing the archers in the front, defended (as if it were by pikes) by certain stakes sharpened at both ends, and set bending forwards in the ground, which he himself had caused be cut out of the woods by the way as he marched: of the men of arms he made two wings, placing them on the flanks, and in a field hard by, fenced by a bank, he placed two hundred archers in ambush, with directions that they should not shoot till the sign were given. The French men had been a full hour in order, not having advanced one foot, and it was about ten of the clock, when the English, expecting to be set upon, and impatient to attend any longer, did advance themselves, and after having made a little haste, Sir Thomas Herpingham an ancient man, and long experienced in war, threw a truncheon into the air, which was the sign of falling too. The soldiers shooting aloud, and the 200. of the ambush answering them, began to let fly at the Vanguard, so as the enemy's horse being wounded in the fall of arrows, and their riders troubled to govern them, they came not to the charge as they should have done. Duplex noteth three errors committed by the French in this encounter. The first that when the English advanced themselves, they did not likewise advance, but stood still, though much the stronger; an error which Cesar observed in Pompey, in the battle of Pharsalia: first motions give courage, whereas standing still takes from courage: for wounds which are received whilst men stand still, by wounding to the quick, do infuse fear, whereas the sense abstracted by motion, hath less sense of wounds, and the spirits remaining entire, do strengthen the arm, and makes it give the first blow. The second, that standing so immovable and bowing down their heads, to the end that the arrows might not enter through the sight holes of their helmets, they made themselves a firmer But to hit. The third, that of 800. horsemen led by Monsieur Sanenses, 120. went only to give the charge, and those but sluggishly, so as their Captain not seconded, was by their arrows beaten down and slain. Their horses being thus wounded, strength, dexterity, and the bit not able to govern them; in stead of going forward, they recoiled back, and in shocking and justling together, fell one upon another, so as the English leaving their bows, and laying load on them with their hatchets and swords, made great slaughter of them; whilst passing from the first file to the last, they came to the main battle, the which either disheartened by the sight of so cruel an execution, or beaten back by so unexpected an assault, or that being too close pressed, and straightened within themselves, they had not means to manage their swords, was in a short space rooted; the English receiving no harm at all, save that some of them were trodden under foot by the horse. Here the Duke of Brabant putting himself forward, and not followed by his men, was slain. Many who fell, or were beaten from horseback found means to escape, being assisted by their servants, whilst the English being but few in number, minded not those that escaped or fled away. This mean while the King giving on with his horse, which were fresh, and well ordered, drove those of the main battle which yet remained in order, back upon the rearward, which being composed of new and unexperienced people, ran away, making small or no resistance. The archers, crossbow men, and foot, did nothing in this days work but run away. On the contrary side many Noblemen and Gentlemen, lost their lives through too much courage. The Duke of Alencon gave on upon the squadron royal, where he slew the Duke of York, wounded, and bore to ground the Duke of Gloster, and hurt the King himself upon the head, whilst he stooped to raise up his brother; but being struck at on all sides, and beaten down, as he held up his hand and cried to the King, 'tis Alencon that yields himself, he was slain before the King could have time to save him. The Counts Omale and Marl, and divers other Gentlemen did by force keep 600. horse together, with whom they were all or taken prisoners or slain. Others stuck together with the like success, being either slain or discomfited. Robert Brovocille, and Izembert Agincourt, were the only two who coming with an intention to steal, and not to fight, being followed by six hundred horse, entered the English camp, wherein was none but servants and sick folks, whom they put all to the sword, and bore away from thence a very rich booty: the which the King understanding and believing that the enemy had reunited themselves, fearing to be set upon again, he made it be proclaimed that as many as had any prisoners should kill them, the number of the prisoners being less than were those that took them: whereupon those two as having been cause of so woeful an effect (bewailed by the actors themselves) were afterwards long kept in prison by the Duke of Burgony: and it was thought that a sword richly set with jewels which they had taken amongst the King's stuff, and given to Count Caralois that he might protect them, saved their lives; which had not served their turns, if the Dolphin had lived. But no more people appearing, the victory was ended, by taking of more prisoners and adding fresh numbers to the dead. The heat of this battle continued three hours, and three hours longer did they continue to fight till such time as there was no more neither to kill nor take; so as about four in the afternoon a retreat was sounded, and by the Prelates and Chapplins, Te Deum, was sung, and the Psalm In exitu Israel de Aegypto, and at the verse Non nobis Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam, all threw themselves upon their knees. The camp and tents of the French served for lodgings to the victors, in recompense of their own camp which they had lost. The next day Monijoy the King of arms of France came, accompanied with four other Heralds to know the number of prisoners, and to obtain leave to bury the dead. The King calling him before him, said, That the multitude of men slain which he saw there, was no work of his, but the work of God Almighty, to punish the unjust usurpation of France, That therefore he willed him to say whether he thought he, or the King of France had won the battle? To the which Monijoy replied that his Majesty's victory was so apparent, as there was no place allowed for dispute. the King then looking round about desired to know the name of the Castle which was nearest to the two camps, and understanding that the name thereof was Aiencourt; from henceforth, said he, this battle shall be called the battle of Aiencourt. He then granted him all he demanded; but the soldiers desired first to view the field, and to take such prisoners as did yet live, and to take from such as were dead, their gold, and jewels, & what else they had of value, leaving them their apparel; of the which they were afterwards by the Country people stripped. The number of the slain (according to Monstrelet) were above 10000 of the which 9000. gentlemen. He registers the names of the chiefest of them in a particular Chapter. It will suffice us to know the names of the Princes and chief commanders. Of Princes there died the Duke of Brabant, and Gount de Nevers. both brothers to the Duke of Burgony, The Duke of Bar, and his brother john the Duke of Alenson. The Counts of Marle, Vademont, Blamont, Grampre, Roussi, Faucumberg, and Lewis of Bourbon: of chief commanders Charles Albret Constable, Dampiere the Admiral, Ramburres general of the crossbows, and Guiszard Master of the King's household. The prisoners were the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, the Count's Ewe, Vandosme, Richmont, the Marshal Bonchiqu●…t, and eighteen Gentlemen of name, beside others. Of those who were slain of the English side, reports do very much differ. Paulus Aemilius sets down 200. naming the Duke of York for one, whom he calls the King's brother. Gaguine sets down 400. comprehending the said Duke with the said error. Monstrelet 1600. Duplex the same number adding a great many that were wounded, which (as he saith) did almost all die. Of the English writers, Grafton saith between 500 and 600. other between 20. and 26. Edward Hall who comprehends the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Kikely and David Game, the only men of note, saith, there were not above five and twenty slain. Let who please believe miracles. But in all reason it is likely that having fought three whole hours, with so great a number of enemies, the relation of 500 or 600. is the truest. David Game, the last of the four above named, and one whom the King much esteemed, as one of the bravest, and most judicious soldiers of his camp, being sent the night before to make an estimate of the number of the enemy, went to the top of an hill and seeing all the Champion covered with tents, and blazing with fires, brought word back, that there were enough of them to be slain, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to be made run away. When the King was come to Calleis, he found there the prisoners of Harfleur, who according to their promise were come to present themselves unto him. Assoon as he had dispatched them, and refreshed his men, he passed into England, meeting in so short a passage with so terrible a tempest of winds, as it drove two ships loaden with soldiers into Zealand, without the loss of any one vessel: yet some write otherwise: he was received in triumph with processions and other magnificences. He took order for the safety of his prisoners, and caused the Duke of York, and Earl of Suffolk's funerals to be splendidly celebrated. The afflictions wherewith France was in general wounded would more particularly have touched upon the Duke of Burgony by reason of the death of his brothers, had not the imprisonment of Orleans and Angolesme, and the death of Alenson served him for defensive weapons. It cannot be easily judged whether of these two prevailed most with him, till it be resolved whether the love of friends or hatred of enemies be of most power in humane affections: But who shall well consider it, will find that in an ambitious and revengeful mind, the excess of hatred is greater than natural affection is: Few are seen, who to inherit their possessions, would not be content to lose their brethren, and very few, who do not forget the love to their own blood, when at the charge of their friends, they may revenge themselves upon their enemies. But whereas hatred proceeds from injuries, from the which (as being done, not received) evil is to be expected, without the concurring of any other passion; It is able to corrupt whatsoever nature, much more the Duke's nature which was already corrupted. And 'tis to be believed that the private and public loss he suffered in this battle did not more afflict him, than he was joyed at the benefit he received by his enemies being oppressed. Hence it was, that seeing himself void of competitors, he resolved immediately to go to Paris to resume that authority, the desire whereof had caused him to cause the Duke of Orleans father to this present Duke, be slain: to break so many covenants made with his sons, and to reduce the fair and rich Country of France almost to ghastliness and poverty. But the present condition of government, did not permit him to enter in a peaceful manner: for the King being possessed by the contrary faction, those of his party being or excluded or banished, the Dolphin (though his son in law) evilly conceited of him, if he came not in a condition to give the Law, he ran hazard of suffering it both in his life and livelihood. Having then levied 10000 horse, he took his journey; but assoon as his design was heard of, King Charles' laying aside all other business, endeavoured to stop his coming. He strictly forbade all Cities and Towns to permit him entrance; and that he might oppose unto him a man of valour, & of the contrary faction, he recalled from Gascony (with the offer of being Constable of France) the Count Armignack, who willingly came, drawn rather through hatred to the Duke, than ambition of the honour. The Duke seeing those gates shut upon him, which he thought to have found thrown open, and that the Count Armignacke was arrived at Paris with great troops of men from Gascony and Languedock, and that he had received the sword (the badge of Constableship) to the end that he might wield it against him, tarried at Lagni: where in a short time he was 20000. horse strong, removing all obstacles which might withstand his entrance into Paris, not unarmed and with his particular family, as he was permitted to do, but armed in the head of twenty thousand horse, alleging the same reasons to obtain his entrance, as the King did to deny it. During these disputes, Lewis the Dolphin died of a fever, but according to the opinion of most, of poison, being by the Orleanist thought no less a bosom friend then son in law to the Duke. I know not though what judgement to give herein, the tokens of this friendship (his alliance set aside) being very slight: For at Burges he appeared against him, and in other places upon other occasions, seemed but very meanly to favour him: he had quitted his wife, the Duke's daughter, for some affection he had elsewhere; nor would he have resumed her, if not threatened to have the treaty of Arras broken; besides, the Dolphin of his own nature was not constant in his friendship, opiniatred only in odd fancies; not over thankful to his father, and as much ignorant of government as he was presumptuous and headstrong. Serres notwithstanding calls him terror of Burgony, but without cause, for had the Dolphin lived, he had run no danger; for in time he might easily have won him by his subtleness: And though through the antipathy of ambition he appeared against him, yet it is not likely that he would have forgone that respect, which as to a father in law, he owed him. This his death was rather thought, and assuredly was a great blow to the Duke's fortune, to the which he began to give way, and retired himself to Flanders, failing in what he intended in France. The Emperor Sigismond had all this while endeavoured as much as he might the peace of the Church: which not likely to effect without 1416 the assistance of other Princes (for to send their Prelates and Ambassadors to the Council, was not of force enough against the stubborness of three titulary Popes, which required a coactive authority to incline them to reason) he resolved to go himself to France, whether he came with 800. horse; and finding that it was impossible to compass his designs, without the peace of the two Kingdoms, he meant to endeavour it. And having laid the groundwork thereof with Charles, he procured Ambassadors from France to go along with him to England, that he might the better treat thereof in their presence. He was received by Henry with all due respects. William Count of Hannault came thither likewise in person to the same end, and shortly after the Ambassadors of many Princes, amongst which were those of the Duke of Burgony, in greater magnificence than all the rest. But the propositions which were propounded to King Henry, were far short of what he pretended unto, and of his good success, by the which he seemed to be inwardly advised to the contrary. He forbore not though, in thanks to so great a mediator, to send Ambassadors to Bavaois; where as an introduction to the business, a truce was propounded, together with the ransom of such prisoners as were in England. Things which easily might have been agreed upon, had not an accident happened, which hindered all agreement, the which though it be by Chesnes denied, his arguments for confutation are very weak. The Duke of Exeter governor of Harfleur, was gone forth with 3000. soldiers to scour the parts near about Rouen, against whom the Constable opposed himself with 5000. (The French writers say it was Monsieur de Villaquiers, and not the Constable, and that he had but 3000. men.) They fought, and 300. of the Duke's men were slain: (the French say 1800.) so as finding himself to be the weaker, the Duke retired himself into an Orchard encompassed with a hedge of thorns, where he stayed the rest of that day, and the next night. As he retired upon break of day towards Harfleur, he was overtaken, and set upon again near unto the City, from whence new succours issuing forth, he put the enemy to rout, Villaquiers himself being one of those that were slain. But however it were, the Constable having for his first enterprise resolved to drive the English out of Normandy; he besieged Harfleur, and though he saw that this resolution would wholly break the treaty of peace, yet was he so desirously confident to win it, that he would not raise his siege, though he was commanded so to do. Whereat King Henry being offended, he recalled his Ambassadors, intended to have gone to the succour thereof himself in person, and had done so, had he not been by the Emperor dissuaded. Being then persuaded to send away others in his stead, he dispatched away the Duke of Bedford with 200 ships (the French authors say 300.) and with him many Lords and Gentlemen, with whom he arrived there the day of the assumption of our Lady, a fatal day, aswell to the keeping of Harfleur, as it was to the winning thereof, for the year before the King came thither upon the Eve of that day. The City was narrowly besieged by sea and land. Viscount Narbonne Vide-admiral of France presented himself before it with a great fleet before the Constable came thither, hoping alone to have surprised it, by taking the defendants at unawares. But being discovered, and driven back, he was contented to have company in the continuance of the siege; he gave many assaults into the Town, but little good was done either by sea or land: When he descried the English fleet, he prepared for fight, and went into the mouth of the River. The Duke did not refuse the encounter, but sending some of his stoutest ships before to begin the bickering, he with all the rest seconded them, resolving either to die or overcome. They fought a long while with equal courage and obstinacy tillat last fortune favouring the English, the enemy's ships which what great, what little were in number 500 were all of them almost either taken, or sunk; amongst which were three great Carrects of Genua, which being afterwards sent into England, did witness the defeat. The Duke having reinforced the garrison with moneys, and men, returned home, the Constable having raised his siege, assoon as the Navy was defeated. The Emperor who sufficiently knew that it was lost time to tarry any longer in England touching the matter of peace, provided for his departure. The King had conferred upon him, and the Count Hannault at their first coming, the order of the garter, and they were installed with extraordinary pomp at Windsor. The Count was already gone, & the Emperor being likewise to be gone (the affairs of Germany and of the Council recalling him) the King would wait upon him to Calleis, a straight league being agreed on between them, which having caused jealousies in divers Princes, was the cause why the Duke of Burgony desired to speak with them both before they parted. And because the declared war did not permit him to adventure his person to a professed enemy (or at least he would have it so believed) the Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Marsh, were sent unto him for hostages, and he was met, and brought to Calleiss by the Earl of Warwick. This mean while his son Philip Count Caralois, having with much honour received the hostages, led them to lodge in Saint Omers: And the next morning going to give the good morrow to the Duke of Gloucester, who was standing with his back to the door, discoursing with some of his domestics, the Duke was somewhat late in saluting him, and did it in a more familiar manner than did become the quality of so great a Prince: whereat he made no sign of distaste, though he resented it, his father's occasions infusing dissimulation into him. The Duke of Burgony was driven upon this by an accident from whence nothing but dangerous consequences was to be expected. Those who governed France, after the Emperor's departure for England, had laid a general tax upon all things vendible; the which having distasted the people, the Parisians more seditious than the rest, plotted the most detestable conspiracy that till then had been heard of in that Kingdom, and having had recourse unto him, as on whom they chiefly did rely, he sent some of his friends unto them, to confirm them in their resolution, promising to assist them: hoping by this means to compass the so much coveted government, and to suppress his enemies, his two ancient unalterable designs. The appointment was, to take the King, the Queen, the Duke of Berry, the King and Queen of Sicily, the Chancellor, the Council, and those that sided with Orleans, all prisoners on good Friday, and to kill them all. But many going that day out of the City, to obtain pardons by their devotions, and fearing lest some of those might likewise have gone forth whom they would not have had to gone, and so might save themselves, they deferred executing their plot till Easter day, which was the safety of those that were proscribed. For the Chancellor hearing of the treason by means of a woman, made the King and Princes suddenly retire themselves into the Lovure, whilst the Provost arming such as upon so sudden an occasion he could assemble together, made himself master of the Market place, and taking some of the conspirators prisoners, infused fear into the rest, freeing the lives of many from eminent danger, by the death of a few. Afterwards securing himself of the City, by such men of arms as flocked unto him from all the neighbouring parts, and taking away the chains from the streets heads, which made them insolent, he disarmed the people whilst the Duke's officers had time to escape. This business produced such jealousies and rancour, as all parties drawing into the field, they omitted nothing whereby they might injure one another. And the Duke, who masked, presented the principal person in this tragedy (the argument whereof was not changed, though the Scene were) thought that to compass his ends, it was requisite for him to secure Flanders from the danger of England, that whilst he endeavoured to endamage others, he might not be endamaged at home: To this purpose he came to Caleis, where he did so work upon these two great Princes, as that the Emperor, who at his passage into England, was by the Duke of Bavariaes' means, brother to the Queen, who was an utter enemy to the Duke, become an Orleanist, did upon this meeting become a Burgonian, being wholly changed through cunning and the homage made unto him of the County of Burgony and Allost: and King Henry prorogued the truce formerly made between Flanders and Artois for two years longer, to the Duke's advantage, and scandal of all well minded men: for to prefer private respects before the public, with the enemies of the State, without the knowledge of the Sovereign, is as unblamable and worthy of punishment, as it is contrary to conscience and Law. But he that propounds evil for his object, loseth all shame which thereupon depends: and his natural confidence (by reason whereof his Dutchmen called him Undaunted) becoming the fatal chariot of his precipice, made him to be undaunted at the encounter of his ruin. His affairs being thus acommodated, every man betook himself to his own home, he to Flanders, the Hostages to Calleis, the Emperor to Germany, and the King to England. Partly before, and partly after this time were the funerals of three great Princes celebrated in France: That of the Duke of Berry, of john the Dolphin, who succeeded to his brother Lewis, and of the King of Sicily. All of them unfortunate deaths, for all the respects which concerned that Kingdom. Berry and Sicily did serve to counterpose the ambition of Burgony, and the Dolphin served for a removal of those evils (if he had lived) which in the succession of his brother Charles, through the Duke's death did afterwards happen. The Duke alive or dead, was borne for the destruction of France; so as that which authors write hereof, if it be not true, it is truth like: That a Turkish Mathematician saved his life when he was prisoner to Bajazet the first, by assuring Bajazet that more Christians would in short time be destroyed for his cause, than the Othomans' sword would cut off in a whole age. john the Dolphin, during his brother Lewis his life, had married Giacalina the only heir to William Count of Hannault, and whilst he kept with him, ready to go for France, he died, not being yet fully twenty years old. Not long before this a straight confederacy was made in Valentiniana, between him and the Duke of Burgony, the reputed cause of his death: for it caused his being poisoned by those of the Orleans faction: for (he being dead) the hopes of the Kingdom falling upon Charles Count de Poictou, son in law to the King of Sicily, and the last of King Charles his five sons, they fell upon a Prince that was their friend, bred up in the hatred and passions, wherewith his father in law then living, was endued. But he dying likewise shortly after, left it in doubt whether his death caused more of pleasure or displeasure unto the Duke: for though he were freed of a mortal enemy, yet his hopes of revenge being in his death lost, did sour the sweet thereof; so as it may be said, that the sweets of ill disposed men, have no taste which is not seasoned with somewhat of sour. The articles of this confederacy, and which caused the Orleanist to rid him out of the world (if it be true that they did so) were, That the Duke of Burgony should serve the King and the Dolphin against whosoever, particularly against the King of England. That he should keep peace with all men in France except the King of Sicily. The Dolphin on the contrary part obliging himself, to assist the Duke, not only against his own subjects, if so it should fall out, but against whosoever else should molest him. But his enemies encouraged by this death, became so insolent, as they forced him to essay the strongest Cities, to exclude the present government, whereupon the civil war grew hotter than ever it was. And Count Armignacke upon whom through the death of these Princes, the King's incapacity, and the Dolphin's tender years, all authority of government fell, seconded by those of the Council, who together with him were afraid, that the Queen weary of their presumptions, might endeavour their ruin, made her to be carried to Towers, under the custody of three of his confidents. And that this her banishment might be irrevocable, he interessed the Dolphin therein, making him (under pretence of the necessity of the war) seize upon such treasure, as she had gathered and placed in certain Churches, and Monasteries, as in so many Sanctuaries. An action which caused in her such hatred against her son, as (hoping for revenge) she by his ruin, who was her only son, wrought the ruin of France; which things though their success were uncertain, yet nothing of good could be conjectured thereby. So as they being by King Henry well examined, he hasted to call a Parliament, propounding the continuation of the war, which was embraced with much applause, and moneys to that purpose readily paid down, nothing but good success being to be hoped for, whilst matters went thus. The King to make himself Master of the Sea, dispatched away john Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, his Admiral, son to that Duke of Exeter who was beheaded the first year of Henry the fourth, a young man whom he much favoured, not so much, for that he was cousin german, (borne of Isabella his father's sister) as that his conditions did deserve it. He on the other side, desirous by some honourable achievement, to augment the King's favour, departed resolute to do some action worthy of the opinion which was conceived of him. The bastard of Bourbon was Captain of the French fleet, of equal force with the Earl, in one only thing surpassing him; that being guarded about by nine Genway Carracts, as by so many fortresses, he thought them alone sufficient to secure him from all the enemies forces; so as seeking him out, and finding him who did not hide himself, they came to blows. Their equal courage and valour, held the balance a long time equal, till such time as the English prevailing, Bourbon was taken prisoner: and of the nine Carracts, three were sunk, and three were taken, and amongst the prey, the money which was allowed for half a years payment of the fleet. The which being taken by the King as a good omen, he took shipping at Portsmouth, waited upon by many of the nobility, and followed 1417 by his two brothers Clarence and Gloster, leaving his third brother Bedford, Regent. He landed at Tongues, a Castle in Normandy, which in four days surrendered itself, as with the like speed did Harcourt, Beaumond, Ereux, Falese, Baiensa, Lis●…aux, Corances, Aurenches, and other places. Caen a Town well peopled, strong, and one of the Bulwarks of that Province stood out resolutely, and not listening to any terms of surrendering, it was soon after taken by assault, and sacked. The Castle (as Monstrelet saith) held out three weeks longer, and seven weeks according to Duplex: whilst the English say that all manner of rigour being denounced against the defendants, if they would not yield after the first day, Monsieur de la Faietta, and Monsieur de Montene (despairing of succour) came forth within the limited time. All the riches and ornaments of the neighbouring Towns were found there as placed in a safe place. No man durst lay hands upon them, for whosoever did, was unavoidable to be put to death. They were by the King's directions restored to the Monasteries and Churches to which they did belong: The which purchased him the good will of the Country, and helped him in his succeeding enterprises. Religious actions unfeignedly done, have power to mollify even those breasts, which hardened with hatred, would for all other means prove obstinate and irreconciliable. Chereburg, and Ponte del Arco, were next Caen, the most considerable Forts, for the conquest of Normandy. A particular account must be given of Rouen by itself. The King sent the Duke of Gloucester to Chereburg, who finding it provided with men, munition and victuals, spent ten months there in vain; in which time when he could not get the gates open by battery, force nor industry, the avarice of john d'Engenes, the governor thereof threw them open unto him, which proved afterwards a gain which caused his death: for having by this infamously purchased money, received a safe conduct for a certain limited time, during the which he might trade where ever the King of England did command (for he could not in reason trust himself in France) he was in Rouen after the City was yielded up unto the English; and taring there, relying upon some, when his set time was expired, his head was cut off: the presence of a traitor smells so rank in the nose of a noble Prince and lover of virtue. After this many other places yielded, incited thereunto by the King, having made it to be proclaimed, that all men should enjoy their goods and privileges, and that he would treat with all such as with his natural subjects, who uninforced would put themselves under his government; so as in little more than a year his ensigns were seen flourishing in every place, nothing almost remaining to the entire conquest of Normandy, but the Metroplitan Rouen, proceedings sprung from the Prince his worth, and soldier's valour, but facilitated by the enemy's disunion; it being in them made true, that desolation must needs ensue, where a Kingdom is divided within itself: And that as amongst the passions of the mind, there is none so great as that of hatred, so all hatreds must give place to the violence of civil or home hatred. The City of Rouen in the loss of all those Towns (which as to the head of the Province were under her) had her eye more fixed upon France, then upon her own eminent danger; for being a principal member thereof, she thought she should be cut off, and made no member if she did not partake of her infections; and her inhabitants imitating the Parisians in wealth & riches, would have thought their honour had been concerned, if they should not likewise emulate themin their seditions. Being then resolved equally with them to favour the Duke of Burgony, they made an insurrection under the conduct of Allen Blancard, a partaker with the Duke, and having slain the governor, and some of the officers; and chief Citizens, they would make themselves masters of the Castle (a place requisite for their safeties, after so sottish a rebellion) and were repulsed by james of Bourbon, Signieur de Preaux, who had the command of it; so as their ill success causing repentance, they were forced to fly for protection to the same Bourbon, whom they had but just then so unjustly offended. So rash and hair brain bold are the people, in stumbling upon offences, and so affrontedly presumptuous in the choice of their remedies. But the Dolphin who was come thither with an intention to give them exemplary punishment▪ meeting with unexpected difficulties, did cloak his ill will, and pardoned the fault, the which without much danger he could not punish. But since I am to speak much of this Prince, I crave permission to describe him to you in four lines, that you may the better know him. He was borne under a fantastical planet glistering with incomparable felicity and miseries. Amongst his miseries was his father's frenzy, to whom it behoved to side with one of the two factions alternately. Two wars at the same time with Burgony and England: his mother's hatred, and thereby the loss of little less than the whole Kingdom. Amongst his felicities the death of four elder brothers, whereby the Crown fell upon him: the death of King Henry, which settled it on his head: for if Henry had lived, he was in hazard either to have wholly lost it, or to have enjoyed but a small part thereof, and that with difficulty, and continual war; being bred up in hatred to the Duke of Burgony, to undo him, he undid himself: He was of as various an humour, as his fortune was various; as indulgent to his pleasures as his dangers would permit him: whereby he was tutored sometimes in abstinence, sometimes in temperance; inconstant in his affections, constant & accurate in his actions, insomuch as when he died he left that Kingdom entire and peaceful, which at his entry thereunto, he found not only turbulent but almost lost. So as it may be said, that tribulation made him wise and glorious, which otherwise of himself he would not have been; he had before him three powerful enemies; the King of England, the Duke of Burgony, and his mother; who though a woman, and unarmed, was more of trouble and damage to him, than the other two: It was hard for him to fence against them all. He could not encounter the first without affording leisure unto the second, who the more domestical he was, the more dangerous was his enmity: For whereas against the King of England he might rely upon his people's faith and assistance, he durst not affy in them against the Duke, whom they were inclined to favour: so as hisgreatest difficulty for the present, was, which of the two he was first to oppose: if he quitted Paris, he lost it; and if he left it not, he lost Normandy. But Count Armignack, were it out of passion, or the interest of his own authority, or out of true judgement, showed it unto him, that losing his capital City, he would likewise the less inferior ones, which would follow the others example; and therefore thought it most necessary for him to secure that City against the Duke, a Prince of the blood, and a subject, then to oppose himself against the King of England, a foreign Prince, and pretender to the Crown, though thereby he might lose Normandy. The Duke therefore perceiving that it was impossible for him to enter Paris for the present, betook himself to the taking in of some small Towns near about it, and after many too's and froes, besieging Corbeille, whilst every one thought he did it to famish Paris (it being the most important passage, whereby to cut off the victualling of Paris) be rose from thence, and hasted to Towers, and finding the Queen in Maurmoters Abbey (according to the agreement which was formerly made between them) he brought her in liberty to Towers with reciprocal commodity, for her to reenter into authority and command, by means of the Duke's forces, & for the Duke to make way to his designs, by means of the Queen's person and name. They were to the people's great joy received into the City and Castle, gladded that they were freed from all other taxes, save that of salt; not perceiving that such graces were of no long continuance, aswell for that they cannot be granted but by the sovereign Prince, and in such times only as being free from war, it redounds to his advantage that his people be eased; as likewise that those who are factious and seditious, cannot subsist without oppressing the people. From hence they went to Chartres, where the Queen made herself be proclaimed Regent of the Kingdom, establishing two Courts of Justice, the one at Amiens, the other at Troy's in Champania, and prohibiting upon great penalty any whatsoever recourse unto the Parliament at Paris. Divers Cardinals and Prelates treated a reconcilement between her and her son; the Duke desired it, hoping thereby the more to tame him. But Count Armignack, and the Chancellor Marle (which thought it would be the overthrow of their authority) broke off the treaty, becoming thereby more hateful unto the people. Whereupon those who sided with the Duke in Paris embracing the occasion, opened one of the gates by night, and brought in Monsieur d'Illeadam, who strengthened by the Citizens, & crying out, Vive la paix, Vive le Roy, Vive Bourgogne, did assault the houses of such as were of the Armignack faction. Tannigues du Chasteu a faithful servant of the Dolphins (guessing by the first bruit at the matter) ran at the Dolphin's bed side, and conveied him safe in a sheet into the Bastille. The Count Armignacke hid himself in disguise, in a poor neighbour's house, who afraid of the punishment which was proclaimed against whosoever should conceal him, did discover him: Those who led him away prisoner having much ado to save him from the fury of the people. The King compelled to rise out of his bed, was by this rascally rout set on horseback, and led through the City, to the end that the mischief which was done, and which was to be done, might be authenticated by his presence; as if a lewd and deadly mischief should have tended to his service, and that he had commanded it. The Chancellors, divers Bishops, Councillors and Magistrates, were taken and made prisoners, whilst the common people possessed with a fresh fury, broke the prisons, and slew them all, their madness reaching to the rich, enemies and friends, wealth, anger and inheritance were under colour of the Armignacks, the death of many innocents', who never had to do in any faction; so as death, though every where of an alike countenance, was clad with different liveries. The Constables and Chancellor's corpse having been three days together dragged naked up and down the streets (to the end that the air might not be therewithal corrupted) were thrown out of the City, where carrion used to be laid. The Duke of Burbony, who was then at Dijon, approving of the fact, but seeming not to approve of the manner thereof, came from thence together with the Queen, and were in great triumph received by the Parisians. Being thus arrived where he desired, increased in power, freed of his enemies, possessed of government, and having the King to dispose of at his pleasure, he did his uttermost to draw the Dolphin to him; he sent Embassies one after another, as sent from his father and mother, pleading the infirmity of the one, and the others for their inabilities to resolve upon any thing requisite against the King of England without his assistance, nor was he sparing in the vowing of his own service unto him. But the Dolphin, though he was thereunto inclined, was dissuaded by those who thought themselves irreconciliable with the Duke. Thus do Princes ruin themselves and their affairs, whilst wanting judgement how to govern alone, they measure their own interests by the concernments of their servants, who if they were worthy would either sacrifice themselves for their Master's welfare, or would save themselves by flight, to shun the being reputed their Prince his undoing. These alterations made sport for King Henry: the vital spirits which ought to have concurred to the strengthening of so important a member as was Normandy, retired themselves unto the heart, oppressed by dangerous symptoms; the which not easing the one, did aggravate the other, to the danger of them both: nor could it be otherwise: for the business requiring union and obedience; the Duke could not obey the Dolphin, whilst he pretended to govern him; and union was impossible to the Dolphin's servants, being they were to lose their authority, which together with the Duke's authority was incompatible. The one side and the other did alike fear that the several factions being once reduced into the right way, would not go astray again: for there is nothing whereof seditious men are more jealous, then to make those taste the sweet of good, who were formerly their associates and coadjutors in evil. So as France running ruin through the excess of disorder, it was no wonder if England did establish herself through the excellency of counsel. The English before they could besiege Rouen were constrained to endeavour the taking in of Pont d'Arcke, a fortress seated upon the River 1418 S●…ne, that so they might the better keep Rouen from being succoured. The King being not far from thence in the Priory of Boneport, sent the Lord of Cornwell to sound the defendants minds, and to see whether the example of so many other places which had received his ensigns, would move them to do the like. john Graville was governor thereof, who being resolute to stand out, the Baron said unto him, that he did ill to oppose himself against the King of England's forces, for he would undertake himself alone with very few more to pass over that River in despite of him and all his people, offering to wage with him hereon his helmet with 500 Nobles in it, against the best horse in his Stable. Graville accepted of the wager, and placed great troops upon the passages, james Harcourt being come to him from Estempes' with 800. fight men, and 12000. of the Country people. The Baron failed not to make good his word the next day: he brought along with him 600. almost all archers (amongst whom was a young son of his own of fifteen years of age) one horse, and some little field pieces, all which he conveied over in eight barks, to a little Island situated in the midst of the River: from whence shooting at the enemy who were upon the further bank, he so disordered them with his small peeees and his artillery, as that they were fain to save themselves, Harcourt retiring himself to Estempes', Graville to Ponte d'Arcke, and the rest to the woods, so as being passed over without resistance, and having Knighted his son, he put himself in battle array, and sent back the boats, to the end that they with some others that he had provided, might convey over about a thousand soldiers, with which he did not only maintain skirmish against the garrison of the Fort, but lodging himself in Mortamer Abbey, he ransacked the Country, putting them all in fear and disorder. Graville being afterward jibed at for having so poorly maintained the passage against so few men, replied, That if he had been so seated as was he, he would have hindered the passage, not only against him, but against England and France put together. But the seat was not the right reason of this, it was rather the bowmens' cunning, and the terror, which without any evident cause doth surprise even the stoutest hearts, by the ancients called fate, but by us, divine providence, the which is then more particularly seen, when greater things are done then were the means whereby they were done. The next day the Duke of Clarence passed over with 4000 fight men, and the King causing a bridge to be made on Roans side, made himself Master of the field, so as the Country people having no place to repair unto, the greatest part fled elsewhere, and Graville having withstood a siege of three weeks, despairing of succour, yielded the Fort, their lives and goods saved. Rouen yet remained, not that there were not many other Towns yet not taken in, but because if she were once taken, the rest would come in of themselves without one blow strucken. The King of France and Duke of Burgony, had sent thither made Captains and soldiers to boot with the great number of inhabitants, who were all resolved rather to die then to suffer the English subjection. This siege was laid when the corn was not yet gathered in, to the end that hunger might assist the other forces. The King took up his quarter amongst the Cheartosine Monks his brothers, and Lords quartered themselves in seven other places, to wit, upon Saint Katherine's hill, and over against the gates of Saint Hillary, Caux, Martinville, Beauvais, the Castle and the bridge. The defendants made many sallies to impeach the besiegers works, slew some of them, and lost some of their own, retiring themselves sometimes with their swords bloody, sometimes with bloody heads. But for all this they could not hinder them from securing their quarters with great ditches and works, and from accommodating themselves, as that though they found all the adjacent houses, Churches, and Monasteries beaten down, and razed (particularly Saint Severe, Richburg, Saint Gervais, M●…rtenville, the Arsenalle, and the Galleys that were in it) yet they used such diligence, as that they wanted nothing requisite for a long siege, as they thought this would prove, the City's strength being considered, and the Citizen's resolution; who on the contrary side chased out of the City all such as had not wherewithal to victual themselves, easing themselves (out of the number of 210000. mouths which were numbered in the City of 12000. of the most unuseful ones, as old men, women, children, and religious people; who did afterwards all of them almost die for hunger in ditches, for they were not suffered to pass any further, that the City might be enforced to take them in again, the which she did not: one of the evil effects of war amongst those who do defend themselves, being to lay aside all manner of charity, even though it concern their own blood, so as the King was constrained (the moans and outcries of the miserable people flying up to heaven) afterwards to succour them, to keep them from utter perishing. He sent the Earl of Warwick and the Baron Talbot to Caudebec, a place upon the Seine, between Rouen and Harfleur, wherewith they agreed for the passage of the English Vessels over the River, and that that Town of Caudebec should surrender itself as soon as Rouen should either be taken or surrendered. They gave hostages hereupon, and suffered an hundred Vessels to pass over, which came from the Fleet, to cast Anchor under Rouen. He made a bridge over the uppermost part of the River towards France, and displayed three chains, a Canon shot off from the walls; the one a fooot and a half, under the water, the second equal with the superficies of the water, and the third two foot above the water; bereaving them thereby of all manner of succour. And because their many salleyes were the cause of the loss of many of his men, to no purpose, he endeavoured to take it in by famine, being sure that their obstinacy could not continue long. Those of Saint Katherins, who had not been diligent in making their provisions, yielded themselves at the first month's end, their lives saved, but not their goods: The field this mean while was full of Burgonian, Daulphinist, and English Colours, all of them to each other enemies, so as if the former two did back together, the third made booty, the two carrying away what the third left. At this same time sixteen hundred Irish arrived at the Camp, conducted by the Lord Kilmayne, ill armed, and but badly clothed; but of such agility and valour, as they were commended beyond all the rest: whereupon a news being given out, that the French were coming to succour the town, they were placed where it was thought the French would come; they received this charge with unexpressible joy; and though the succour came not, they ceased not to do much mischief, going and returning with more speed, and to better purpose, than the horses themselves either could or would have done. The City had suffered much ever since October, their victuals were spent, happy were they that could get either Horses, Dogs, Cats, Mice, or such like uncleanness to eat. The poorer sort of people, if in the streets they met any one with any thing of livelihood, they would fly upon him, blows nor wounds not availing to make them to desist. In three months' space no meat had been publicly sold, and those who had means to purchase any, paid excessive prices: above 50000. persons died of hunger, during this siege. They sent Eustace Paville, a Doctor to acquaint the King and Duke of Burgony with their misery, who when he had showed how great evils they had suffered, only that they might preserve their faith and loyalty, protested that if they should be enforced to yield themselves, the King and Kingdom of France should have no greater enemies than they. The answer was gracious, that the King would preserve his good City of Rouen, that within a few days he would so succour it, as that the enemy should rather bethink themselves how to escape away, than any longer to continue the siege. Words which proved to no effect, yet necessary to hinder the proceedings of the English to the cost of the miserable besieged; but not able to succour them by force, he bethought himself how to give them comfort by a treaty of peace. Cardinal Vrsino was about this time come from Avignon, sent by Pope Martin the fifth, to find out some means how to agree these two great Princes. The first thing he treated of, was that they should send their Ambassadors to Pont d'Arcke, as they did; but the time being spent in disputes and no conclusion made, he resolved to go himself to the walls of Rouen. He spoke with King Henry, he presented him with the Picture of the Lady Catherine of France, the best means as he thought whereby to persuade him. The King after he had well considered her beauty, and praised it, seemed to be desirous of the match, if she should come endowed with a million of gold, with the Province of Normandy (by him almost wholly conquered) the Province of Acquitany (by him likewise in a great part possessed) the County of Poictou, and all the other Signiories which did formerly belong and were hereditary to the Crown of England; adding that he would have them free from having any dependency upon France. The which seeming very hard to the French Deputies, the conference was dissolved: For besides the abovesaid pretensions, the English Deputies explained themselves, that Charles by reason of his sickness, was not fit to make treaties, nor the Dolphin, as not being King, nor the Duke of Burgony, as not having power to dispose of the inheritance and dependences of the Crown: That therefore it did necessarily follow, there was no accord to be made but by the sword, which was only able to satisfy the one, and enforce the other. The breach of this Treaty did almost quite dead the hopes of the besieged; yet did they a while languishin agony, by reason of the great preparations which were made throughout all Picardy: but as soon as they perceived that the King and Duke of Burgony, distracted through their jealousies of the Dolphin, could not succour them, they resolved to hazard their lives (less valued than their pretended liberty) and to go themselves to procure and bring in succour; the which they could not do, but by breaking through the Camp; 10000 of them well armed (the rest remaining to defend the City) rushed furiously out of a gate, from whence they were not gone two miles, when the rafters of the bridge breaking, as many as were upon it fell into the water, & those who remained in the town issued out at another gate to save their companions; the which they could not so soon do before the English had already fought with them and driven them back. Those who fell, shared all of several misfortunes, few of them escaping, being either drowned, broken or wounded. The bridges rafters were cut in two by Guy Buttler, after the place was surrendered; he was thought to have caused them to be cut, only because he had sworn loyalty to King Henry, and was become his subject. The Duke of Burgony did not cease though in this desperate case, to flatter them with hopes of succour, and that they might believe him, he said, he would do that which he was far from being able to effect. He brought the King and Queen to Beauvais, and caused great troops of armed men to come thither, which served to no other use, then to be an oppression to the Countries through which they passed. Hither for their last Embassy came new solicitors from Rouen the midst of December, who laid open what miserable famine they suffered: the misery that those endured who being shut out of the city, died in ditches, that they were forced to take up such children as were there borne, in baskets over the walls to baptise them; and being baptised, to convey them down again to their mothers, who rather expected death then life. That many died unbaptised; evils which had happened, and did happen for their service done unto the King and Duke of Burgony, whilst they on their sides had done nothing that they ought to have done, and had promised: that they could expect no longer: that if succour were not immediately sent, they would render themselves to the King of England. And with this protestation they renounced what ever former loyalty, faith, oath, service and obedience, declaring themselves discharged thereof, since they were by them abandoned. They were mildly answered, that the King could not as yet succour them: But that shortly he would not fail to do it. But not satisfied with this unlimited answer, the Duke promised to succour them the fourth day after Christmas. Whereupon returning with more appearance of danger then hope, they were but sadly received. At this time les Sieurs d'Arcourt, and the Meurle had gathered together two thousand fight men, with a resolution to try their fortune. They placed themselves in ambush, in two several places, not above 2 leagues from the English Camp; yet so near together as that they might aid one another. To allure the English, they sent out an hundred and twenty horse, who meeting with certain English, who were lodged in a little village, slew the greater part of them: the few that escaped, gave an alarm unto the Camp, believing that they who had set on them, were the forerunners of the succour. The King commanded the Lord Cornovallia to discover the truth. The Baron took along with him, six hundred horse; and for guide, those who had brought the news: not far from thence he discovered the enemy's troops, who turning about, clapped spurs to their horse, and ran to the place of ambush, giving as great alarm to their leaders, as the English had done to Henry. But the Baron made such haste, as finding them in disorder, and possessed with fear, he made some of them betake themselves to their heels, charged other some, killing and taking two hundred and forty, of which number were Monsieur de Moreule, Butor, Delroys' Bastard, and many other Gentlemen: Harcourts' horse saved him, and the Baron made a quick return unto the camp, with victory, news, and prisoners. In Beauvais where the King, Burgony, and Council were, (as hath been said) nothing was treated of, but how to succour Rouen: after long debate it was concluded, That during the enemies might and power, the Kings and Duke's forces were not sufficient to make him raise the siege. The Duke perceived this, but not with the same eye as did others: For he considered that if he should meet with any notable disaster in the succour, together with Rouen, he was to lose the advantage of forces he now had over the Dolphin: That the loss of that City, though it would be a loss unto him, yet he therein should have sharers: whereas the loss of a battle would disorder and discompose his authority, his government, and his particular designs. A cautelous, but bad consideration: A Prince who sits at the helm in a Kingdom, aught to prefer the public before his private good; nay, here his own peculiar good consisted in the public welfare: for his authority and greatness depended upon the well managing of affairs; he should have succoured Rouen, though with never so much danger, for in the loss thereof, he lost his reputation both with his friends and enemies. And though it had been impossible for him to effect it (as indeed it was) yet should he have attempted it, for in matters of difficulty, the world accepts of the will for the deed; he should have shadowed the weakness of his forces, and in the fail of fortune, have given a rich testimony of his worth and valour; he might have presented himself, and not have been enforced to fight. King Henry was content to defend his trenches, & prohibit succour, not troubling himself about aught else: It made not for him to quit his trenches, and leave them to the desperate sallies of the besieged, to the end that he might to no purpose, and with much danger fight with the enemy in open field, whilst by fitting still he overcame, his only end being to win the Town, without or blood or danger; and though it had behoved the Duke to adventure a battle, the disadvantages were counterpoised. A City wherein was above 15000. defendants resolved to die: despair, an obstinate defence, almost not to be overcome: so as the enemy being fewer in number, and set upon behind and before, if he were not overcome, would at least be weakened, and though he should win the place, would be so weakened in his forces, as that he could not make any further progress. The victory at Cressis, and Ajencourt had only advantaged him in affording him a means of saving himself; for the small number of his soldiers, and his requisitnesse to pass the sea to reinforce himself, took from him the benefit of his victory. On the contrary side, the loss of men would not be of much moment to so populous a Kingdom, able of itself forthwith to furnish more: For great bodies are not moved, much less do they fall for one shock. The battle of Poitiers would not have been of great moment, had not the King been taken prisoner: for this now in question, the soldiers were only to be hazarded; and grant the loss of the day, Rouen suffered no mischief, which without this hazard was assuredly lost. But for my part I believe that the Duke did never really intend this succour, knowing that (to boot with his fears of the Dolphin) it was impossible for him to force a well disciplined victorious army, within its trenches, under a powerful King, and great commander, unless he were mainly assisted by fortune. And events being uncertain, are not of force enough to persuade to dangerous and irrevocable resolutions. The which if it were so, it may be inferred, that the reiterated hopes given to the besieged, the making of them suffer so much, and at last yield themselves with so undoing a disadvantage, was one of those errors upon which they fall, who make use of public calamity, for their own peculiar good. Had he prolonged that siege to win time, to withhold the proceedings of the English, and quite break them off by some great undertaking, he could not have been accused; but his not caring though all were lost, so as the Dolphin did not advance, proves it to be true, That who hath double ends doth always amiss; since the moments of reputation, are not measured by the moments of time, which leaneth upon things casual; but by order, which depends upon the rules of wisdom and fidelity: a principal condition of him that governs, from which whosoever hath at any time swerved, hath ever had the heavens & fortune for his adversaries. The examples hereof are so frequent, in past and present times, as it is a wonder so many do stumble against this rock. The resolution of not succouring the Town being taken at Council table, all the soldiers were dismissed, save such as were to be put in garrison upon the face of Normandy, and of the Dolphin. Assoon as the King was gone from Beauvois, those of Rouen were secretly admonished by the Duke to surrender themselves upon the best terms they could. A death doing adieu, which did utterly astonish and affright them. They were not permitted to die fight, for the enemy was in a condition of not being enforced to fight; and say those of them who should fight, should die, a greater number yet remained behind unable to fight. They resolved to send a Herald for a safe conduct. The which being granted, they sent six Ambassadors, who were brought before the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earl of Warwick, who had commission to hear them. Their answer was, that the King would not admit of their surrender upon any terms, save such as should best like himself. Whereupon a great assembly of Council being had in the City, it was resolved that losing the foundation of some part of the wall, and then underpropping it, to the end that they might make it fall when they pleased, they would set divers parts of the Town on fire, then place the women and children in the midst of the armed men, and so throwing down the wall outward, they would sally forth in that manner with a resolution either to die or to make their way through the enemy, whither their fortune would lead them. But the King hearing of this, and desirous to have the City whole and undemolished, sent back for the Ambassadors, with whom he concluded the surrendering of the Town. Thus writeth Monstrelet, and with him the French authors, who as in this, so in many other things have punctually followed him. I will tell you what the English say of this. The City sent twelve commissioners who were brought unto the camp, whilst the King was at Mass; which being ended, and they admitted, he gave them audience with a severe countenance. Those who had order to speak, said unto him, That the glory of victory in the taking in of Towns, and assubjecting of people, did consist in manifest worth: That there was no worth shown, and consequently no glory won in the taking of their Town, since it was consumed by suffering, not by the sword. That therefore if like a generous Prince he would suffer those who were ready to perish for hunger to come forth, that they might seek for their livelihood elsewhere, and use his milltary rigour with such as remained, he should by conquering them, win that true glory, which a great King and valiant Captain ought to seek after. The King having heard their indescreet demand, and thought a while on it, replied, That he had thought they were come to surrender the City, not to read lessons to him. But that he did not wonder at it, for arrogancy is the for erunner of ruin. That the conceit they had of him came short of his condition, because they either thought him so ignorant of moral virtues, as that he was to learn of them, or such a novice in war, as to govern himself therein according to their rules and precepts. And to the end they might perceive their error, he would read them a lecture, That they should therefore know that nature having been liberal in some habit of strength to all sensible creatures, giving the use thereof in one sort to buite creatures; in another to men, she had given every creature some defensive arms, except man, who being borne naked, would be inferior to all other, if God had not given him understanding, whereby he offendeth others and defends himself better than any of them. So as if he use advantageous weapons against beasts, he is not therefore to be blamed, because he followeth the instinct of nature, who not having endued him with weapons, hath showed him (because he should have no reason to complain of her) how to subsist without natural arms. That therefore if strength be a virtue, it consists not in the strength of the body (than beasts would be more virtuous than men) but in the understanding, which makes him that hath least force overcome what hath more. The which if it be to be understood between man and beast, much more between man and man, for whom this and all other virtue is only predicamental. And though there be divers means whereby to compass it, yet war is the chiefest, And as every art hath its instruments, so are sword, fire and famine, the instruments of war, of the which the commander maketh use by turns; wisdom the soul of warlike strength, is the only chooser and moderator of them; so as if she be by reason induced to quit the one for the other, none will blame her. That therefore if he who was chief commander would have used the sword against the desperate (as they desired) it would not argue strength in him, since he might obtain the victory without exposing his men to slaughter; whose safeguard is the chief end of a good King and wise commander. That it sufficed him to have sufficiently showed that he feared not to use the sword, and that he was ready to demonstrate it when occasion should require: That France and they knew this to their cost: Fire made not for his purpose, he loved what was his, That he would preserve those conquests, the possession whereof was due unto him by his ancient and lawful hereditary right, with out the right of Arms: a known title, and which of itself did render his conquests undoubtedly just. So as these two instruments being for the formerly alleged reasons laid aside, famine did remain, as the only proper means to vanquish them: The which did not bereave him of praise nor glory, since he was prompted thereunto not through want of courage, but through wisdom and understanding. For the point of sufferings, That he wondered they had a tongue to pronounce them, since in general they could only accuse themselves, for from the beginning they might have made choice of that, which now by necessity they were forced to do. And in this particular they had no excuse to justify them: For the putting forth of their gates, Citizens borne in the same Country, privileged by years, as were old men and children; by sex, as were women; and by profession, as were the Friars and Monks, was an action as inhuman as contrary to all Laws. Hereunto might be added that they expected that succour from him an enemy which was denied them by them their friends, fellow Citizens and parents, who had exposed them to the injuries of air, famine, cold, and all manner of miseries: That they had done them all the mischief they could, and yet blamed him (who had done them all the favours an enemy could do) because he would not suffer them come forth of their trenches, as if he had not more reason to keep them in, than they to drive them out; the only reason which had moved them to so inhuman an action (if it might be termed a reason) being the prolonging for some few days more, at the cost of the innocent, their own nocent obstinacy which was that which did only deserve fire and sword, and (if nature had permitted it) not one but redoubled famines. That in answer to their demands, he would have them know, that though he knew he was sufficiently able to conquer them with the sword, he would not do it; the means he had made choice of, being the fittest and safest for his soldiers, and the best suiting with their deserts; That he would keep on his course, and that when they should be humbled with famine, he would further humble them with such punishment as their obstinacy did deserve. This being said, he retired himself with an angry countenance into his lodgings, commanding his officers to keep them at dinner with them. These people were as much astonished at the King's wisdom, as they were at his power; After dinner having advised of what was to be done, they desired another audience, the which was by the King graciously granted them; They desired a truce for eight days, and having obtained it, returned to the City. The English set up in their camp three rich tents, one for their Commissioners, one for those of the City, and the third for the one and the other to confer together in. The King named the Earls of Warwick and Salisbury, the Baron Fitzhugh, Sir Walter Hungerford, Sir Gilbert Humfreville, and Sir john Robsert, together with john Vasques of Almadas, the City, john Buttler and six more. The eight days were spent in contentions, accusations, excuses, demands and denials, nothing being concluded: Whereupon, when those of the City took their leaves, they compassionately begged a prorogation of the truce till the suns next rising, and obtained it: When they were returned to the City, they found the people in such an uproar, as that they ran in danger of their lives, so as they went early the next morning to Sir john Robsert, entreating him to intercede for a second prorogation of truce for four days. To the which the King again giving way, the surrender of the Town was agreed upon the first day of the four, upon three and twenty Articles. The chief of the which were, That they should pay unto the King 365000 French Crowns, that Robert Linnet, Vicar general to the Archbishop, john Giordane, Captain of the Crossbows, and Allen Blancard, should be delivered to the King's disposal. That they should swear perpetual fealty to him, and all the Kings of England; and that so doing, they should enjoy all immunities and privileges which they had enjoyed in the reign of Saint Lewis. That those who would, might have leave to depart, carrying nothing along with them but one ordinary suit of apparel. That the Soldiers marching out unarmed with a white staff in their hands, and one only suit, should swear not to bear Arms against the King for one year next ensuing. This City was surrendered the 19 day of January 1419. Guy Buttler, accompanied by the best of the Town, brought the keys; and the Duke of Exeter took possession, placing Corpse de guard, and Sentinels where he thought necessary. The next day the King made his entrance, waited upon by four Dukes, ten Earls, eight Bishops, sixteen Barons, and a great many Knights, being met by the Clergy and Citizens, who led him to the chief Church, where he was received by the Archbishop, and Cannons. As soon as he had given thanks, he gave order for repair of the ruins; and causing proclamation to be made, that all such Cities and Towns as would willingly submit themselves to his obedience, should enjoy their former privileges, Caudebe, Monstravillier, deep, Fescampe, Arques, Chasteau, Neuf, Dencourt, Vernon, Mante, Gourne, Honfleur, Pont de Mer, Triet, Tancarville, Abrichier, Moleurier, Vallemont, Nucaville, Ballacombre, Fontenes, Nugondeville, Logembre, Saint German upon Calianax, Bodemont, Bray, Villaterra, Ciarles, Menill, Ferefonte, Beccrispin, Baqueville, and many other Towns, sent him, their keys, and received in English Garrisons. The Country people, and such as lived in the fields, did the like; so as the white Cross of France was changed into the red of England. Normandy fell into the hands of the English 229 years. After the time that Philip the second took it from john King of England, which was the year of our Lord, 1190. Allen Blancard was beheaded, and the other two reserved to be disposed of as the King should please, were sometime after restored to their liberty, having paid therefore great sums of money, and the government of the City was conferred upon the Duke of Gloucester. The Duke of Burgony was he who suffered more than any other in this loss, whose authority being grounded upon the people's good opinion, was in danger to have fallen upon his opposite. The evils which happened thereupon, were to be imputed to him alone; he was the director (if not rather the corrupter) of the State: he who by his evil practices had got possession of the King's person, had through his ill government obscured his lustre, lost his reputation, and lessened his command; not void of suspicion that he had intelligence with the King of England, to suppress the Dolphin: a fault not to be averred, because it was not true, the opinion thereof though, likely to cause his ruin. He could not contest against two enemies, it behoved him to reconcile himself with one of them. His natural hatred, his faction, his ancient and new injuries: his opinion of him to be of an humour not to be trusted, his behoving to yield the government to him, and the often denied agreement between them, made him despair of reconciliation with the Dolphin. With King Henry, set the war aside (which may notwithstanding be maintained between generous Princes, without malignity or hatred) he had nothing of injury or offence. His affairs (being reconciled to him) were not only to be continued in their present condition, but bettered: for his forces would be preserved entire, to contend more vigorously against another: The which being well weighed by him, he chose the later, and sent express messengers unto Henry, to persuade him to send Ambassadors; with whom at Troy's in Champania a truce was concluded, by means whereof the two Kings (meeting in a Park near Melune) might treat of a peace. And though King Charles came not thither (hindered by a new access of his accustomed indisposition) the Queen, her daughter, and the Duke, failed not to come. This fair Princess was by them of purpose brought, out of hopes that the beams of her beauty dazzling King Henry's eyes, might make him desist from his rigorous pretences, so as peace might be the easilier made, and upon more advantageous conditions: but where honour and love do intershock; Honour though a friend, cannot but treat Love like an enemy: Honour is not Honour, if encountering with passions, it overcome them not. So as the King, though he were much taken with her, did not forgo any thing he had formerly pretended unto, hoping if he could not get her by peace, to win her by war. They came not at first to the Rendezvous, but having made choice of two neighbouring places, the Queen tarried at Pontouse, the King at Nantes, where he kept his Whitsuntide, and made there three Earls, Gaston de fois, a great man in Gascony, he made Earl of Longaville: john Grey, Earl of Tancherville, and the Lord Bourchiere Earl of Eu. The day of meeting being come, the King departed, accompanied by a thousand horse, and came into the Park, followed by the Dukes of Clarence, Gloucester, and Exeter, and by Henry Beaufort, brother to Exeter, a Clergy man; by the Earls of Marsh and Salisbury: he there found his Tents pitched, wherein he reposed himself. The Queen came, accompanied by her daughter, the Duke of Burgony, the Count Saint Paul, by twenty Ladies and Gentlewomen, and as many horse. A large pavilion was erected in the midst of the Tents of both sides, wherein they met. The King kissed the Queen and her daughter, and received the Duke of Burgony with much respect; and having spent some time in compliments, the rest in business, they took leave one of another, the one retiring to Pontouse, the others to Nantes. The next day returning to the same place, they began the treaty, which lasted three weeks, Princess Catherine not appearing there any more: for it was thought the niceness of her appearing would produce prodigal effects in him that coveted her. But the King persisting in his demands, and they in their refusals, no conclusion was made. This meeting raised mighty jealousies in the Dolphin, thinking it to be a means to depress him, as indeed it proved. And having no other means to break it off, but by proferring to make peace with the Duke, which he had so often formerly denied to do, he set himself about it, intending to keep it, with the same mind as he offered it. Tanniques' du Chasteau was his adviser, messenger, and he who put it in execution. Tannigues came in a time when the Duke (not able to make agreement with the King, without the relinquishing of many Provinces) was in a straight, either to condescend to the King's desires, or to be necessitated to fight at one and the same time, against two powerful enemies. Whereupon having greedily accepted of the Dolphin's offer, and grown obdurate to the King, Henry (who perceived it) broke off the treaty, saying to him at his departure, that since by means of peace he could not effect his desired marriage, he did him to wit that he would obtain it by war; and together with it King Charles, and all he did desire: and that if he could not get King Charles his person, he would force him to forsake France, as he would do him the Duke. To the which the Duke answered; that he might say and think what he would, but that in the effecting of it he would be so weary, and so out of breath, that the King of France and he were not likely to be put to much trouble. Reciprocal Ambassadors, and Madam de Giac, a favourite of the Dukes, and a main mediator in this business, had already accorded all differences with the Dolphin, and named a seat in Champagnia, near to Melune, for their meeting. Whereupon the Duke departing from Pontoise, with a many armed men, and accompanied by the Count Saint Paul, john of Luxenburge, the forenamed Lady, and many other Lords of great quality, met the Dolphin near Povilli: when they were come within two bow shoots one of another, they made their followers make a stand, each of them attended by ten others only passing forwards, the Duke lighting first from Horseback, bowed himself ofttimes to the Dolphin, before he came up unto him. The Dolphin taking him by the hand, had much ado to raise him from off his knees, saying that he pardoned whatsoever offence, if any such he had committed against him, that for the time to come his will should be governed by the Duke's will, to which end he referred the articles wholly to him, to be corrected, or altered, wherein they were not satisfactory to him: the Duke replying with redoubled obsequies they swore the peace, and after them all the Lords there present; their Soldiers in sign of joy, mingled one with another, and cursed whoever for the time to come should bear Arms upon the same quarrel. The Duke would needs hold the Dolphin's stirrup, (though the Dolphin would not have had him do so) and having waited upon him a good part of the way towards Melune, he took his leave going himself to lodge at Corbeile. Some are of opinion, that the Duke had been slain at this meeting, had it not been for fear that their people might have gone together by the ears, the which would undoubtedly have ensued, to the danger of the Dolphin, and that which followed doth manifestly prove it. When King Henry heard of this agreement, he easily conceived it to be made to exclude him: he was not thereat notwithstanding dismayed, it being his use to increase in daring, as difficulties did increase: and to give a proof hereof, he forthwith surprised Pontoise. The Marshal Ibeadam was Governor thereof, as a frontier place, and inlet to the Isle of France, which if the enemy should win, it would secure unto him not only Rouen, but all Normandy; by reason of former occurrences many English Ambassadors had passed through it; by whose advertisement the King took occasion to make himself Master thereof, he sent thither three thousand fight men, who coming thither about the break of day, did not only scale the walls, not meeting with any that made the round, but opened the nearest gate whereby they who remained without entered, and passed forward in battle array, crying Saint George, the City is taken. The Marshal who was wakened at this noise, got on horseback, but seeing their number and order, he thought best to yield, carrying nothing away with him but what he had in jewels and ready money; the like did the garrison, and about ten thousand inhabitants which followed him, he went out of the gate towards Paris, whereof not having the keys at hand, he caused it to be broken open, for all delays were dangerous. Thus did the English make themselves Masters of this place, not without ransack, though without blood. King Charles' not well pleased with this neighbourhood, withdrew himself to Trois in Champagnia, followed by the Queen, his daughter, the Duke and Council; leaving the Count Saint Paul, and Eustas de Lactres, Chancellor of France, in charge with the government of Paris; the Marshal went to Beauvois, another fronteire City of Normandy, intending to keep it more warily than he had done the other; and he had need to do so, for he had lost his reputation in the loss of Pontois, and rendered him more hateful to the Dolphin then to all the rest: the winning of Gissors, accompanied this conquest, received to mercy the Duke of Clarence; whilst the Earl of Huntingdon, and Sir Philip Lys did each of them make much havoc about Clerimont, Abeveile, and Pont de Rhine, returning loaded with prey and prisoners. Chasteangalliard and Roccagion, the two strongest places of Normandy, (guarded by the Dolphin's people) were at one and the same time besieged: the latter yielded at two months' end, the other held out sixteen months; nor had it then yielded, had it not been for want of cordage to draw up water; a thing unheard off, and whereby we may believe, that they had made use of their sheets, and all other things fitting for the like business. The Dolphin this mean while was not at peace within himself: for no torture doth more torment the soul of man, then that which gnaws thereon betwixt resolution and execution of a premeditated wickedness. The fear he had the Duke of Burgony should make peace with the King of England, had forced him to reconcile himself with the Duke. The appearing end was the home peace between them, that they might join in expelling the foreign enemy. So did every one think and not without reason, having compassed his first desire in the breach of the treaty, he betook himself to a second; to quit himself (under the security of reconciliation) of the association of an hated colleague: the Kingdom was not capable of two heads; he imagined that the Duke's ambitious spirit, would never give way unto him, nor would ever withdraw himself from government, whilst he had in his hands the King's person, was favoured by the Queen, and had the people at his disposal: Besides all these provocatives, he was naturally an abhorrer of such contracted friendship: Resolving then to have his life, he came to Monstreau upon the River Joan accompanied by 20000. soldiers; from whence he writ unto him; that having a great many soldiers about him, and desirous to employ them about some useful action, he desired him to come unto him, that they might consult what to make choice of. The Duke were it either that he did not think good to resolve upon any such thing, without the participation of the King and Council, or that he did not affy in him, sent back Tannigues, who had brought him the letters, with this answer: that business of this nature required the assent of King and Council, and that since he the Dolphin could do nothing more acceptable to the King and Queen, he wished him to come himself unto them, since their authority was requisite in such like resolutions. But the Dolphin, who had already put on his resolution, which was not to be effected without him, sent Tannigues again unto him, who knew so well how to persuade him, as that he brought him to Bray, where he tarried, thinking more considerately upon his business; he bethought himself that to go without forces, was dangerous, and not to go, was to proclaim a diffidency: the first uncertain, the second most certain; and that if he should misdoubt him, he should be thought a man of small belief, being overcome by redoubled embassies he was persuaded to the worst. The Bishop of Valensa, brother to the Bishop of Langres, one of the Duke's ancient and cabinet Councillors, was he who most egged him on to this. Valensa being abused by the Dolphin, did abuse his brother, and he his Master, showing him that under such promises, such witness, and between so great Princes, faith could not be falsified; that treachery would be too apparent, which would not only prove ignominious but dangerous to the Dolphin; and that the Castle of Monstrueill, which he gave unto him, might be a pawn unto him of his true meaning, and safety of the Duke's person, wrought upon by these reasons he came thither, (his hour being come) waited on by 400. horse, and 200. archers upon Sunday the tenth of September 1419. at three a clock after dinner; a little before he came thither, he was met by Anthony Tolongones (who had been to spy what was done at Montreville who wished him to bethink himself well, for the bars that were placed upon the bridge, (the place appointed for their parley) were to his disadvantage, if the other had any intention to proceed foully with him, wherewithal some what surprised, he stayed a while, taking new advice; some dissuaded him from going, showing him that to believe well, and have a good opinion in enemies, was good in the golden age; but for the present times they served only to supplant the security of life: others persuaded him to go, alleging an impossibility that the Dolphin would commit so infamous and unexcusable a treachery; whereupon after having a while bethought himself, he said, he must go lest it might be said, a womanish fear had made him make a new breach, which was not to be shunned; if he should doubt the Dolphins so many letters, promises and oaths: that though he had reason to proceed more cautiously in this business, yet the world would not conceive the reason thereof, nor would concur in the establishing of peace, if for the present he did not adventure his life, that he might very well lose it, but not without the greatest infamy that could befall the basest man alive, much more so great a Prince as was the Dolphin: Thus opinioned he passed forward, he entered by the gate which opens into the fields, into the Castle, which he found trimmed up for him with all pomp, and hospitable magnificence: he placed a hundred foot to guard the gate which opened into the Town, placing the rest in order without; the which he had no sooner done, but Tannigues came to advertise him that the Dolphin expected him, making new promises and new oaths unrequired: the ten which the Duke was to bring along with him, were Charles of Bourbon, john of Friburg, Messieurs ae Novaile, Saint George Montague, and d'Ancre, Antony of Vergi, Guy of Pontaisler, Ciarles of Lens, and Peter de Giac, to the which he added Peter de Sanguinat, one of his Secretaries, giving order to the rest to stay behind: when he came to the first bar, he met some sent to meet him, who by renewing the so often reitterated promises, made him suspect somewhat, and had almost made him return back, but his own men made him pass on, alleging that so much treachery was not to be imagined, and that they were likely to run the same shipwreck as was he; when he was passed the second bar it was presently locked, which did a little amaze him; yet resting his arm upon Tannigues shoulder, who was come to receive him, he said to St. George, this is the man on whom I rely; when he was come to the Dolphin, (who with his corslet and sword by his side stood leaning against a bar) he kneeled down before him, saying he was come to receive his commands; but he giving him but a cold welcome, upbraided him with the not observance of what was agreed on between them; and for not having made war against the English, nor taken the garrisons from such places as should according to their articles be restored to him: to which the Duke replying, that he had done what was to be done against the English, and that he had made surrender of all such places, as by articles he was bound to do; Robert de Loire took him underneath the arm, saying he was too great a Prince to be so long upon his knees, but as he lifted him up, finding his sword behind his back, as the Duke with his hand would have put it in its right place, Robert said, will you lift your hand against the Dolphin? and at the same instant, Tannigues having said to his companions, now is the time, he struck at him with a hatchet thinking to have cleft his head, but did only take his chin away; at which blow he fell with one knee upon the ground; and laying hand on his sword, wounded as he was with many blows borne to the ground, whilst Oliver Laiet thirst his sword into his belly up to the hilts; Monsieur de Novaille, brother to the Count de Fois, as he was about to defend him, was hindered by the Viscount of Narbone, who opposed him with a dagger, and whilst he flew furiously upon him, to have taken his dagger away, he was by others slain: Friburg doing his duty likewise was taken prisoner. St. George was wounded in the flank, and d'Ancre in the hand, Montaigne leaping over the bars got into the Castle, the Secretary and all the rest were taken prisoners, those of the Castle perceiving the bickering, and not knowing of the Duke's death, came forth to the palisado, but driven back by the bowmen, fled to Bray, beaten slain, taken, and losing all they had. Monsieur de Jouvelle and Montaigne, with some soldiers, and about some thirty of the Duke's servants and pages, fortified themselves within the Castle, but wanting victuals, they yielded it up, their lives and goods saved. All the Duke's furniture and jewels which were many and of great worth, were reserved for the Dolphin; such prisoners as would not take the oath, had ransoms set on their heads, and those who would were set at liberty. Charles de Lens Admiral of France and who was constant in his friendship to the Duke till his last gasp, was slain upon cold blood. john Lovet Precedent of Provence, the Viscount Narbone, William Butler, Tanniques de Chasteau, Francis de Grimaux, Robert Loire, Peter Frotiere, Oliver Laiet, and ●…onchore de Namae, Marshal Seneschal of Auvergnia, were the authors of this parricide; Madam de Giac was thought a confederate in this business, for that the deed being done, she withdrew herself unto the Dolphin; Monsieur de Barbasan not guilty of the treachery, but present when it was done, said unto the rest that they had ruinated their Master's reputation, and wished rather to have been dead, then present at so wicked an action: the Duke's body was laid upon a table, and carried at midnight into a mill, from whence it was taken away the next day and buried in his calsons with his hat upon his face, his doublet on (the which they had not taken off because it was bloody, and full of holes) with his boots and spurs without any Christian decency, save a dozen masses, which were likewise the oblations of bleeding hands and tears of woe. This was the end of john Duke of Burgony, surnamed the Undaunted, by him deserved, by reason of the murder committed twelve years before upon the Duke of Orleans person, by his command; but his fault did not wash away theirs that slew him: and though in the former, ambition was the only cause, so as he could not be more wicked, and in the second hatred, and reason of State; yet the so often plighted faith, and swearing by the name of God in witness thereof, makes the latter more wicked and inexcusable. The Dolphin who had promised himself great advantage thereby, found he was deceived, for effects are not always taken away by the cutting off their causes, unless they be wholly rooted out: the son remained a branch from which did bud forth more ruins, then either could or would have done from the stock: if the advisers to this business, had had respect to the subjects relation, to the good and honour of the Prince more than to the jealousy of his authority, (the which whilst the Undaunted lived, was fading) they would have seen that dying he left clients, subjects and servants ready to revenge him; that so detestable an action was sufficient even to alienate the Dolphins own friends; that the King his father was subject to those that governed him: that his rulers were the defuncts creatures; his mother more than ever irreconcilable; the King of England fastened in France; The new Duke of Burgony as well heir to his father's injuries, as to his estate and authority; that being descended from a turbulent family, he was not likely to be quieted without bitter revenge, though the world's welfare should therein consist; so as the interest of servants, which for the most part doth ruin such Princes who are either very young, or ill advised, did undo the Dolphin; who not able in sincerity of truth to excuse so scandalous an act; endeavoured to cloak it by a falsehood, giving out that the Duke came with an intention to kill him the Dolphin: but Montaigne published the truth of the business: whereat the King was troubled, the Queen offended, (who as was thought, did love the Duke more than became her reputation, after he had delivered her from Towers) and the people which had always sided with him, were herein confirmed; the Court remained as before, governed by such as did depend upon him, not staggered by his fall: He had a son by surname and actions good (who afterwards was called Philip the good) not violent, as was his father, but more wise; so as of the whole of so great a Kingdom, a little cantle did only side with the Dolphin: his more southern Provinces (which disjoined from the low Countries, had no occasion to be annoyed by the Undaunted) were those alone which did sustain him, and which after a tempestuous voyage brought him safe into the haven, thanks to the disorder of others; which are the chiefest, and most frequent occasions of taking away of Kingdoms from some, and conferring them on others: for the death of King Henry, the underage and weakness of his succeeding son, and the bad intelligence between the Uncles and Duke of Burgony, (the reason of their reconciliation) did after many years contrary to all likelihood, set him on foot again. Philip Count Carelois (whom henceforth we will call the Duke of 1420 Burgony) understanding his father's death (after his sorrow and obfequys) consulted upon what was to be done, he had two advices given him; the one he should treat well the Duchess his wife, sister to the Dolphin, since she did not share in the injury done unto him by her brother; the other, that being to revenge his father's death, he should seek out the most effectual means how to do it; that friendship with the King of England being of all others the likely best, he should offer him peace, and his assistance in his pretences to the Kingdom and his marriage; for the Dolphin could by no other means be debarred of the Kingdom, he who had cooled in his affection to his wife, his passion overswaying his reason, and who knew her virtue did deserve this advice, honoured her and made much of her as long as she lived, which was but a small time: for what concerned friendship with England, (his father having chalked out the way unto him, from whence had he not swerved, he had not died) he thought he could not choose a better way of revenge; wherefore he answered the Parisians, who after their condoling with him; desired his assistance against the English, by Ambassadors which they of purpose sent, that they should not need to trouble themselves therein; for he hoped with the King's good liking, to make a peace, which should secure them, and their friends, the which he forthwith did; he sent the Bishop of Arras and two more, with such officers to King Henry, as were very well approved; and the Bishop being returned with satisfaction, he sent soon after him, the Earl of Warwick and Bishop of Rochester, with whom the Duke concluded a truce, to endure till such time as a peace might finally be concluded, by means whereof the way was opened for commerce, between them, as if the peace had been already concluded; so as the English soldiers, as friends and confederates, did join with those of France, and the Duke against the Dolphin: assoon as he had accommodated his home business, (having obtained of his subjects all he could desire) he came to Trois, where he plotted the peace and marriage: for King Charles did what he was persuaded unto, and those who did persuade him, were the Duke's dependants, and such as were upheld by the Duke. King Henry being advertised hereof, and nothing now remaining to conclude the business, but the formality of his Ambassadors, he sent the Duke of Exeter, the Earl of Salisbury, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Fitshug, Sir john Robsert, and Sir Philip Hall, with whom the peace, and marriage was agreed upon; the latter to be celebrated in that very place as soon as the King should come thither. As soon as the Ambassadors were returned (Robsert only tarrying with the bridge) the King went from Rouen, waited on by his brother Clarence and Gloster, the Earls of Warwick, Salisbury, Huntingdon, Eu, Tancherville, Longaville, and fifteen thousand fight men, making his journey by Pontoise, Saint Dennis, and Sciarantone; where having left some troops to secure the passage, he came to Trois by the way of Provence, and was met 2 leagues off by the Duke of Burgony, and the Nobility, which upon the like occasion were in great number come unto the Court: his first meeting with the King and Queen was in Saint Peter's Church, where he took his Bride by the hand, and the marriage was solemnised on Trinity Sunday, with the greatest pomp that ever was seen in that Kingdom. He corrected and altered the Articles as he pleased; the which being sworn unto by the King, Duke of Burgony, Princes and Lords, were sent to be published in both Kingdoms: they were thirty three in number, the chiefest whereof were, That King Charles should enjoy his dignity, title, and Kingdom, as long as he lived; That King Henry should be Regent thereof, and afterward Heir; That neither he nor the Duke of Burgony should make peace with Charles who termed himself Dolphin, without the consent of the three Estates of both Kingdoms; That the peace between France and England should be perpetual; That these two Kingdoms should never be dismembered one from another, but should be governed by one and the same King, but under their several Laws. Sens, and Montreville were the two most important places which the Dolphin did hold in those parts: so as the marriage solemnities being over, they besieged Sens. This City would have held out longer, had it had any hopes of succour; but having none, it surrendered itself the twelfe day. Such Soldiers as would stay in the King's service, were suffered to depart, their lives and goods saved; except those who had had a hand in the Duke's death. And though many of them did for the present accept of the English Cross, they did afterwards at several times for sake it, betaking themselves to the Dolphin's service: of the inhabitants the oath of fidelity & obedience was only demanded. Montreule held out longer: the Castle was fortified, & provided for a longer siege; but though they did valiantly defend themselves, the town was taken within a few days, thanks to the assailants successful rashness, who charged it on sundry sides, without directions from the King or Duke. When they had taken it, pursuing their good fortune, and closely following those who fled into the Castle, they were the cause why many of them were drowned; they took twenty prisoners, almost all Gentlemen; whereupon the King having lodged his people in the town, over-against the Castle-gate, did yet more narrowly enclose it, bereaving it of all hopes, save a rational capitulation. But Monsieur de Guitres, resolute in the defence, was cause why twelve of the twenty prisoners, whom the King had protested he would hang, if the Castle did not yield, were immediately hanged before his face, after they had in vain requested him, and had their request seconded by their wife's tears, and friends intercession. His inexorableness was the more to be blamed, for that after so deplorable an execution he made good the Castle only eight days. He came forth his life and goods saved, as likewise all such as would not remain in the King's service, those only excepted (as formerly) who had had a hand in the death of the Duke. Guitres, who was accused to be one of them, did defy his accuser, a Gentleman of the Dukes; but no apparent proofs being found, he was let go. The Duke had sent divers Gentlemen, to cause his father's body to be taken up; who finding it buried in so miserable a manner, took it up, and wrapped it in lead, and it was sent to Chertosa in Dijoune, where he was buried near unto his father. At the same time his people took Villenense, situate upon the same river, putting all the garrisons to the sword. The Dolphin on the other side made his progress; for being resolved to out the Prince of Orange (who fought on Burgonies behalf) from such places as he held in Languedocke, he besieged Saint Esprite, and assisted by Avignon, and Provence, took it, and drove all the Prince's people out of that Country. The which being done, he returned to Burges, his usual abode, that he might raise what force possibly he might, intending rather the enemies proceeding, then to give him battle. The Duke of Bedford was come from England before the taking in of Montreule, with two thousand Archers, and eight hundred horses, and was by the King and his brothers received with much joy. Thus reinforced, he went to besiege Melune: The King of France came, together with his Queen, from Bray, (where they had tarried during the siege of Montreule) to Corbeile. Melune was begirt by two Camps, with artillery and such engines as were then in use for the taking in of places. Messieurs de Barbasan, and de Preux, commanded seven hundred fightingmen, who were within the town. By battery, mines, and trenches, the assailants got shortly underneath the ditch. The Duke of Burgony, who had made himself master of a Bulwark, did fortify it much to the prejudice of the besieged. The King built a bridge over the Seen, to serve for commerce between the two Camps, securing the Banks on both sides with good corpse de guard; and to free his quarters from danger of surprise, he cut some trenches on the outside of them, and raised some works upon each end thereof, that so they might not be assailed without great danger to the assaylors. The breaches made by battery, were made good by earth and bavens; the besieged omitted nothing wherein either diligence or foresight might stand them in stead: one ruin was answered by another, wherein they fought at push of pike, and wherein the King and Duke of Burgony managed theirs. King Charles was come unto the Camp, and together with him the Queen accompanied by the Duchess of Clarence, newly arrived from England, with a great train of Ladies, who were lodged by King Henry in a house erected of purpose near to his own tents, without the reach of Canon; so as making use of this occasion, he would try whether the besieged would yield to their King or no; but being questioned thereupon, they answered: that if Charles King of France would vouchsafe to enter there, he should be received with all due respects unto his Majesty; but not Henry King of England, nor Philip Duke of Burgony, their professed enemies: he sent this mean while the Duke of Clarence to Paris, giving him the chief command of the City, to the end that taking possession thereof, he might by English forces secure the most considerable places therein; as the Basteille, the Lovure, the house of Needle, and forth there of the Boys de St. Vicenne; the Count of St. Paul who was chief commander there, was sent to Picardy to receive the oaths of the Cities of that Province touching the peace with England, and to except of King Henry as Regent and heir, the which was done without any opposition: the besieged and besiegers were both but in bad condition; the one being reduced for lack of better nourishment, to eat all manner of uncleanness, the other by reason of the Prince of Oranges departure (who was gone with his people into Provence to defend his own affairs) & by the rage of a violent pestilence which had much lessened their numbers; insomuch as the Duke of Burgony was forced to send the Signior de Luxenburg to Picardy to raise more men, who returning shortly after with them appeared in so handsome array before Melune, as that the inhabitants believing they had been the succour they had so long expected, did not only show signs of joy by the ringing of bells, but grown insolent did mock the besiegers; an error of small continuance, yet not sufficient to have made them yield, if the Dolphin had not at the same time advertised them, that he could not succour them. This Prince was governed by the wisdom and upheld by the purse of the Count de Virtue brother to Orleans, and Angolesme, prisoners in England; but he being at this instant dead, he was like a ship without sails, he could not move towards the preservation of a place of so great importance. The Town was surrendered the eighth of September, upon disadvantageous terms; those who were guilty of the Duke's death, were condemned, a prime article, not to be forgotten, the soldiers were to be forthcoming till they could put in good security, not to bear arms under the enemies of either of the two Kings; that inhabitants submitted to pleasure, their weapons and moveables were put into the Castle. Monsieur de Barbasan, who was accused of being guilty of the Duke's death, was saved for that there appeared no proofs thereof against him, save only insomuch as he was the Dolphin's servant: This notwithstanding he was sent prisoner to Paris, and from thence to Chasteau Galliard; where after nine years' space, he had the good luck to recover his liberty; the place being then taken by the Dolphin's forces, who, his father being dead, called himself King. Monsieur de Preaux together with five or six hundred Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen, and Citizens, were likewise sent to Paris, put into several prisons; the chiefest of them into the Basteile; those who were put to death were few: amongst which was one Bertrand of Chaumont, a Gascoine, a natural subject of England, for that he was bribed to save Amicron de Lau, an accessary in the Duke of Burgonies death, & though the King's brother did intercede for him (for he had always been valiant) yet could they not obtain his pardon; for reason of State would not permit Henry to give way unto passion, and to be partial in the Duke the son's just revenge; moreover in right he was to lose his life, who saved the life of a delinquent, not through pity but avarice. Winter growing on, & the soldiers requiring rest after having been so long in field, the two Kings retired themselves to Paris, being met by the people and Clergy with great magnificency; they rid together, the King of France on the right hand, they lighted at the Church of nostre Dame, and from thence, Charles went to l'Hostell de Saint Paul, Henry to the Lovure, and the Duke of Burgony to his own house, l'Hostelle de Artois: the next day the two Queens made their entry in the like manner, and were received by the City with great expressions of joy, and met by the brothers of the Kings, and Duke of Burgony, followed by all the Nobility; richly presented by the Citizens; particularly the Queen of England, and the King her husband. The Dolphin had been set upon all this while only by the way of war, now they endeavour to oppugn him by the Law; a business which did nothing at all import Henry's pretences; his foundations were of another sort, not supported by these formalities; for without them, without his marriage with Catherine, or his being adopted by Charles (all of them works of supererrogation in this case) he was lawful King; but it redounded to his advantage to second the Duke of Burgonies desires, that thereby, or by what ever other means the Dolphin might be by the people abandoned. Princes are subject to no seat of justice save that of conscience; all others are but fancies and tricks: fancies and therefore not to be despised, for such are oft times more embraced by the people than is reason: whence it happens that their authority being darkened, and deprived of its lustre by contrary opinions, they are subject to the eclipses of their subjects disobedience. Burgony endeavoured the Dolphin's ruin his father's murderer; he was to open the way thereunto by the people's fury; persuade them he could not: for though the fault were very heinous; the guilty party was by the common Law, and Law of nature of too great authority with them, being borne their Prince, yet (men always reserving some seeds of equity in them) he hoped that by objecting this case, clothed with the habit of justice, died in the colours of so many perjuries, treasons and breach of faith, he might cancel the respect the people bore him, and by degrees draw them from pity and commiseration, to hatred, and from hatred to arms. Charles the Dolphin according to the pretended Law Salic (set aside, that Henry's pretences were by the people repulsed that so they might repulse his person, not only as a stranger but as an English man) was presumed heir to the Crown. Moreover the murder of the Duke of Orleans (set aside the circumstances) was in its original more wicked than this: if the Duke of Burgony had then been punished (as of right he ought to have been) in his estate, the Dolphin had had no occasion to bereave him of his life▪ so as the parity of fault, requiring parity of punishment, it was against reason, the second should be punished by justice, when by injustice the former scaped unpunished: whilst having no respect to the diversity of the delinquents qualities, the Dolphin being a privileged person as Sovereign, should be punished for being so, rather than the Duke for being a subject: let us learn by this; that men's particular interest is that which ever hath, & ever doth pretend; and that severity is quick sighted when the question concerneth others, but blind, when we are ourselves concerned. This cause was pleaded in the presence of both the Kings, the Princes, and Judges, in the low Hall of l'Hosteile de Saint Paul by the dowager Duchess of Burgonies advocate and the Duke her sons, who accused Charles (who termed himself Dolphin) the Viscount of Narbone, Monsieur de Barbasan, Tannigues de Chasteau, William Butler, john Lovet Precedent of Provence, Robert de Loire, Ol●…ver Laiet, and others of this murder; he demanded justice, and particularised in what punishment: this plea was seconded by a Doctor of Sorbonne (sent thither for this purpose by that College) who by many allegations drawn from the Scripture, laboured to persuade the two Kings, to punish those who had had their hands in so grievous a fault; but no declaration being forthwith to be made, without the due proceedings in Law, the Chancellor answered in the King's name; that by the advice of the King of England, Regent of France and his declared heir, all should be done that was requisite in so important a business: so as the Dolphin being cited to the marble table, with the accustomed solemnities, and not appearing, he was for his contumacy declared guilty of the aforesaid murder, fall'n from the Crown, incapable of what ever present, or future succession, and banished the Kingdom: the Dolphin hearing this appealed to his sword, the which was that alone which afterwards (by the help of the Duke of Burgony his chiefest enemy) did annul the process, decide the question, and cut in two the sentence. King Henry was to go for England after Christmas, to make new provision or war, and to cause the Queen his wife to be crowned; so as 1421 having licenced the three estates, who all had sworn obedience to him, he went his way, having the Duke of Exeter with five hundred fight men in Paris, and in other places good and faithful governor's: he stayed a while in Rouen to give order for things belonging to the Duchy, and left therein the Duke of Clarence his general; from thence he together with his other brethren, took his way towards Calais, and were received in England with such joy, as Kings use to receive who return crowned with victory, and accompanied by wives, rich in dowry, grace and beauty, as was his: she was crowned at Westminster, on Saint Matthews day, where whilst the pomp and solemnity exceeded whatsoever of former times, fortune prepared funeral solemnities for the Duke of Clarence in France; a business which being very diversely reported by authors, forces me first to recount what the English say thereof, then how others relate it: for passion within circumstances of winning, or losing, is very great amongst them, makes them to contradict one another; & who doth not join them together, will hardly be able to extract the truth. This Prince had made a select choice of Soldiers, out of all the garrisons of Normandy; he entered Umena, and passed over Loire, placing himself underneath Angiers, hoping that those of the Town would have fought with him: but they not issuing forth, he spread himself over the country; where, after having enriched his people with prey and prisoners, he returned for Normandy. Being come to Bewford, he understood that a great number of enemies were at Beuges, conducted by the Duke of alanson, the Dolphin's Lieutenant, who had in company with him, 26 French Lords, one Spanish Captain, john Earl of Bow han, Robert his brother, sons to the Governor of Scotland, Archibald Dowglas, Earl of Vigtonia, Alexander Linsay, brother to the Earl of Crayford, and eighteen Scottish Gentlemen, lately come from Scotland with 700 Soldiers (Buchanan saith, seven thousand:) he was about to set suddenly upon them, but did not: for, to assail an enemy, not knowing his forces, is like walking in a dark night in unknown ways. He had at that time, one Ardrea Fregosa, an Italian, who had been with the French, and who assured him, that the enemy was so few in number, that half his company was sufficient to rout them: so as believing this man's relation, who did abuse him, being desirous of glory, he took only the horse along with him, commanding the Bowmen not to stir, and leaving them under the command of his son john, called the Bastard of Clarence; between him and the enemy there was an uneasy and a narrow passage; through which, when without any opposition he had passed, he discovered the enemy not far off, and contrary to the relation made unto him, in full and well ordered troops; whilst he not able to retire, the passage being taken, which if it had not been, he could not pass over it again in File, as he did before without danger: it did more avail him to hazard himself by making a stand, then by giving back to venture the being shamefully cut in pieces. The one side fought desperately, the other bravely; but the English not being above one for four, were discomfited, the Duke himself being slain, the Earl of Tancherville, Gilbert Vmfreville, Earl of Kent, the Lord Ros, Sir john Lumbl●…y, and Sir Robert Verend, and near upon two thousand others; the Earls of Somerset and Suffolk, the Lord Fitzwalter, Sir john Barckley, Sir Ralph Nevil, Sir Henry juglos, Sir William Bowes, Sir William Longiton, Sir Thomas Burrowes, and many others were taken prisoners. Of the French were slain about twelve hundred of the best of the Army. The Bastard of Clarence, who after the Duke's departure, was informed of the number of the enemies, marched with all possible diligence, to succour him, but came too late; and the French having notice thereof, retired themselves with their prisoners, and did forsake the Field. The English buried their dead, and carried the Duke's body along with them, which was afterwards sent from Rouen to England, and buried at Canterbury, by his father. This is the substance of their narration. Chesne and Derplaix say, that the Duke of Clarence, a wise and valiant Prince, went to fight with the Earl Bouhan, the Dolphin's Constable, and Mr. de Faiette. That the French, though fewer in number, obtained the victory, having slain three thousand English: And that the English Historians to defraud the French of this glory, make their loss less, accusing the Duke of Clarence of rashness, for thatnot trusting in the French that were with him, he undertook the business with his own men only. Dupleix further to convince them, asketh, what the French men did while they fought? whether or no they stood with their arms across? and that he expected they should couple imposturisme to their calumny; and say, that the French had joined with the Dolphin's forces, to their prejudice. Monstrelet says, that the Duke of Clarence had sent his people into Anjou, where under the command of the Scottish Constable, and Mr. de Faiette, a great number of the Dolphinists were met: That Clarence hearing they were at Bawges, took along with him part of his men, and almost all the chief Commanders, being followed by the rest aloof off. That he marched towards them with much danger and pain, by reason of a troublesome passage over a river which he was to pass. That the Dolphinists being aware of his coming, and provided for him, after a keen, cruel, and bitter battle, had the victory; That the English lost between two and three thousand men, the French above eleven hundred; yet notwithstanding all this, they under the command of the Earl of Salisbury, recovered the Duke's body. Paulus Emilius writes, that the Duke being come before Angiers, and having provoked the Garrison, and taxed them of cowardice, because they did not issue forth, passed forward to a little town, where he understood the Scots were (who fought under the Dolphin's pay) joined to some companies of French, the which he carelessly set upon, for that he was much more in number than they: but that being known by a golden circle, which as a Jewel he wore on his helmet, he was set upon by many of them and slain: That notwithstanding this, the greatest part of his men retired themselves without or fear or disorder, unto Umena; where taking upon them the white cross of France, and finding the bridge over the river cut, they compelled the country people to re-edify it, killing some of them, & leading the rest along with them, lest that the inhabitants being by them advertised, might have followed them, and that in this manner they got safe to Normandy. He speaks nothing of the number of the dead. Gaguinus says, that the Duke of Clarence being gone with a many Soldiers, into Anjou, did incamp himself at Beufort; that being at table, he was told by certain Scottish Freebooters, who were taken prisoners, that the French and Scotch were met together at Bawges; whereupon, rising immediately from the table, he said, they are our own, let none but the horse follow us: that when he was come to little Bawges, he met with john de Croix, a valiant French Gentleman, who being got into a Church, and having shut the door upon him, was got up into the Belfree: that the Duke seeing he spent his time in vain, set upon the rest; and being himself in the head of his men, having a garland of Jewels upon his helmet, he was one of the first that was slain by the French, and many other Lords with him. The Earls of Huntingdon and Somerset, and Thomas Beaufort brother to the last, being taken prisoners. That the rest saved themselves by flight; but that finding the bridge broken at Umena, they took the white Cross, feigning themselves to be French, and causing it to be mended by the Country people, they put them all to death, and passed forwards. Serres reports, that having presented himself before Angiers, and having no hope to win it, he set upon the French Army lodged at little Bawges; that out of assurance of victory he was lost: and that together with him, there were there slain fifteen hundred English. The history and Chronicle of Normandy relates, that being come into Angier on Easter Eve, he understood that a great number of Scots were at Bawges; whereupon passing the river, he in disorder set upon them, not tarrying for his company: that the Earl Bouhan, a Scot, had the honour of the day, the English being defeated and slain, he names the great ones, but makes no mention of the rest; but saith, that the bodies of the Duke, and the rest of the Lords, were taken away, and sent into England. Buchanan reports, that the Duke being informed by Andrew Fregoso, or some other Scottish Freebooters, that the French were carelessly disporting themselves at Bawges, as thinking themselves secure, it being good Friday, a day dedicated to devotion; or were it because there was a truce for eight days, resolved to set upon them, and that rising from the table, he commanded that the horse should only follow him; that when he came to Bawges, he met with some scattering French, who saving themselves in a Belfree, whilst he in vain did spend his time there, the rest were advertised of his arrival, that the Earl Bouhan sent 30 Archers to possess the bridge, with whom Hugh Kened, together with an hundred others who were quartered in a Church hard by, all of them almost unarmed, as upon such sudden occasions doth oftentimes fall out, did join himself. That the Duke not able to make his horses take the bridge, being shot at by the enemies, was the first that lighted, and who won the passage; but that whilst he and those few that followed him, got on horseback again, and that the rest passed leisurely after him, by reason of the narrowness of the bridge, he was set upon by Earl Bouhan, who had not with him above two hundred horse; That they fought with equal courage, and hatred, the Scots as having an occasion to give proof of themselves, (for the French were of opinion, that the inhabitants of great Britain, were good for nothing but to eat and drink: the same opinion which the Spaniards hold of the French, and the Africanes of the Spaniards) and the English as having before them an unplacable enemy, who not contented to fight with them at home, was come to seek them on the other side the Sea: That they laid load one upon another, the Duke himself fight more eagerly than did any other: but that being wounded with a lance in the face by james Luinton, and unhorsed by the Earl Bouhan, who let drive at him with a battle Axe, the rest all ran away, & were pursued till dark night: that there died about 2000 English, of which six and twenty men of account, besides prisoners, which were many. Of French and Scots very few, and almost all of the meaner sort. That others do believe that Alexander Macelselan was he who killed the Duke, having sold the Duke of Clarence Coronet to john Stewart for five hundred pound, which was afterwards pawned by him to Robert Vstonne, for two thousand five hundred pound. That the Scots had the greatest share of glory in this business, and that for this cause the Dolphin made the Earl Bouhan Constable, rewarding the other commanders according to their deserts. From these expositions may easily be gathered, that Dupleis the latest of all other Writers, doth falsely accuse the English Historians. Monstrelet witnesseth the Duke was fewer in number, where he says he took but part of his forces; the Chronicle, that he did not tarry for his men; Gaguinus and Buchanan, that leaving the foot, he took only along with him the horse; that they tax him of rashness, to rob the honour from the French; Monstrelet says that he was abused by information, that he was to make a difficult passage, and that the enemy was advertised and provided for him. Paulus Emilius, that he set upon them carelessly, as if he did despise them: that he would take only the horse along with him, believing that the French were already as good as lost. Serres, that his imagined victory was the cause why he lost his life: the Chronicles, that he set upon the enemy disorderly; and Buchanan, that he only made use of the horse; that they have lessened the loss, they confess 2000 Serres faith but 1500. none but Monstrelet, names them to be between two and three thousand; an undeterminated number: Buchanan about 2000 he likewise undeterminates; Paulus Emilius, and Guaginus speak not hereof at all. That any French troops were with the Duke, neither English nor French author, of as many as I have met withal (himself excepted) mention any such thing; for what remains, if it were not true that the bastard of Clarence came in unto his rescue, the Duke's body could not have been recovered; that it was recovered, Monstrelet and the Chronicles of Normandy do take away all dispute; and as Monstrelet saith, the Earl of Salisbury was he who recovered it, were it at the same time or afterwards: to say afterwards, is absurd: for flying from the defeat, he must with danger of his life, have tarried somewhere, till the enemy was gone, or else have returned with new forces from Normandy, and to no purpose, since they might have taken his body away: he tarried no where; for the English in their flight (according to the French writers) took their white cross for their own safeties, and caused the bridge of Umena to be re-edified, lest they might be again set upon, neither did he return, for being come to Normandy, he could not at the same time have made this voyage, and that of Alencon; therefore if the bastard recovered the body, the Duke fought without his bowmen: and if the Earl, it was at the same time, but not unless he were Master of the field, the which after such a defeat he could not be without a strong succour, which was that which did dissipate the cloud of enemies, which buried the dead, which recovered the bodies of the Duke and the Lords, and whereby he returned home void of fear, not clothing himself with the white cross: but say that this recovery be false: is it possible the French authors (were it only for triumphs sake) should make no mention of it? and if they deny not that it was carried into England, would they not say how it was granted, whether in change, in gift or by ransom? the English narration then (unless it be the equivocal meaning of the Duke of Alencon, wherein john Speed erreth not, and which hath nothing to do with this our affair) is that which I shall judge the truest: which being granted, the Duke being but a few, was overcome by many, and not unrevenged, for he was indebted to the enemy only for 800. carcases, he having lost 2000 the enemy 120. he was a wise Prince, but not at this time; he preferred magnanimity before wisdom; without which the former is as an unbridled horse which runs upon precipices, and ruins the rider; so as if his authors have accused him of rashness, they have done it justly not to rob the French of the honour, as saith Dupleis; rather writing as he doth, he that robs it both from the English and the Scots, for this act, what ever it was, was done under the happy guidance of Earl Bouhan their General. The death of this Prince encouraged the enemy, for Normandy wanting now a General, they thought it weak to endure an encounter; they besieged Alencon; the Earl of Salisbury; who did ill endure the loss of such a place, gathered all the forces together he possibly could, whilst the French who spied his ways, expected his coming in good order, intending to set on him; but he, who came to succour not to fight, turned towards the Abbey of Bec, losing in his retreat about 200. men, an easy prize for the raising of the siege; for the enemy having driven a way the succour, retired to Anjou, leaving Alencon free. When King Henry heard of his brother's death, he chose in his place, & endowed with the same authority, Edmond Earl Mourton, brother to the Earl of Somerset; and calling a Parliament, he had great assistance; the Bishop of Winchester, his uncle lent him moneys (till such time as the subsidies could be raised) wherewithal he paid 4000 men at arms, and 24000. archers, which he caused to pass over to Calais, conducted by the Earl of Bedford, and followed himself in midmay: the Dolphin did at this time besiege Shartres, a place of importance, defended by the bastard of Theime, and some troops which the Duke of Exeter had sent unto him from Paris, whilst he being weakened, suffered much for want of victuals; the City by reason of the multitude therein easily to be famished; the reason of this scarcity was, for the Dolphinists having made themselves Masters of Bonevalle and other forts thereabouts, did command the field. But the King being come to Calais, dispatched away unto him the Earl of Dorset, and the Lord Clifford, with 1200. men; by means whereof and by the news of his passage, he stopped the enemy's excursions: at Montreule he met the Duke of Burgony, who was come thither the day before, sick of an ague; they stayed three days together, after which time the Duke departed, to procure for him the passage over Some to Abeville, and did obtain it, whilst the King marching that ways took in Fertes held by Monsieur de harcourt's people; he placed there in a garrison of the Duke's soldiers; when he was past the bridge at Abeville, he took his leave of him, the Duke having promised to meet him again within a few days, as he did; when he was come to Bois du Saint Vincent, assoon as he had saluted the King and Queen, he resolved with the Duke of Exeter (who was come from Paris) to go to Shartres, and to fight with the enemy, to this purpose he added some French troops to his own men: when he was come to Nantes, the Duke of Burgony met him with 3000. fight men; the Dolphin's forces consisted then of 7000. men at arms, 4000 crossbow men, and 6000. archers; but finding himself much inferior to the King's forces, he raised the siege, and retired himself to Turin, for one defeat would have been sufficient to have ruinated all his fortune: the hopes of battle being thus vanished, the Duke passed into Picardy; this Province was held in much disorder by Messuers de Harcourt, ●…'Offemont, and other Captains: he and his men marched without any manner of order, looking for nothing less than to be set upon: so as being assaulted at unwares, not far from Mons, the Duke's Banner born by his servant, who should have borne it, fled suddenly away, and two thirds of the Army, believing that the Duke had been gone with it, fled likewise after it: and Pieron de Luppes pursuing them with an hundred and twenty horse, did so weaken his companions, as that the Duke accompanied by valiant Gentlemen, overthrew those who remained, killing four hundred of them, and taking an hundred prisoners. This good fortune was accompanied by the gaining of St. Requier, which was surrendered to him by Monsieur de Offemont in change for the prisoners he had taken. The King on the other side made himself master of Dreux, Beaugensy, and other places upon composition: and returning by Because, took Rouge-mount by force, and Villeneve upon articles; having here made fitting preparations for the siege of Meaux, he passed thither in Boats over the river Marna, environed it with works and trenches. This place was defended by brave Captains, under the command of the bastard of Vaures, and by a thousand Soldiers, besides the inhabitants, who were all ready to defend it: here did the King receive news that his Queen was delivered of a son at Windsor, baptised Henry, the place of his birth and name did allay his joy; for he called to mind an unlucky prediction, the which though he did not believe, yet it is incident to man, to doubt of happiness, and fear calamities: for evil events happening oftener than good, we do rather believe such predictions as foretell bad events, because they are likeliest to ensue: So as turning to his Chamberlain, he said, that to himself who was borne at Monmouth, great conquests were fore told, and a short life; but to his son borne at Windsor, a long but miserable life, and a declining fortune: that he left the sequel to God's disposal; but if the predictions were such, they were too true: for just so it fell out. Mr. d'Offemont was to go to Meaux, to take order for defence of that place; and the besieged had writ unto him the name of the place by which he was to enter, giving him down a ladder at the walls foot, that he might the readier climb up: he came accompanied with forty Soldiers, he slew some Sentinels which were in his way, and passed quietly into the ditch: but whilst his men clome up the ladder, that he himself might be the last, it so fell out, that as he was passing over a board which crossed some kind of concavity, his foot slipped, and he armed as he was, fell in: and not able to be got out without noise (having broken two Lances which were by his men let down to help him out) the besieged ran thither, and setting upon those who were not yet gotten up, took him wounded, and by direction from the King, he was carefully dressed and looked unto. This chance did much trouble the besieged; who not able to defend the City without infinite labour (their number not being sufficient to defend so great a circuit) they abandoned it, and retired themselves to the Fort in the Marketplace; where having broken their Lances in their daily bicker, they made use of Spits: and the English who were lodged in the City, enjoyed the like advantage: for they were freed from infinite guards which the great circumference of the place enforced them to keep. The King caused Artillery to be planted in fitting places, beating down the walls, houses, and the only Mill which was within that compass; winning the which, he did so incommodate them, that if they had been succuored, they could have received no comfort without a counter-siege. This only difficulty had been sufficient to have made them whilst time served, think upon their safeties; but their vainglory to be buried in the ruins, made them lend no ear to the persuasions of an enemy King who did friendly admonish them. Whereupon force being the only cure for their obstinacy, he set upon them with a general assault, which was valiantly performed, and more vigorously oppugned, the defendants being enforced, after much loss of blood, and lives of both sides, to retire: and the defendants esteeming themselves victors, in as much as they were not overcome, were so puffed up with pride, as after divers opprobrious and scornful speeches, they did drive an ass to the top of the walls which encompassed the Market place, in sight of the besiegers, and causing him by blows to bray, they incited his assistance to the besieging King: the which he made a less esteem of, than the loss of the son of the Lord Cornwalle, a young youth who being hardly out of his nonage, had through his wisdom and valour raised such an expectation in every one, as had not a Cannon shot bereft him of life, he in a short time was likely to have been numbered amongst the worthiest Captains of that age. But these the besigeds uncivil, rustic insolences, were but of short continuance, like the last blasts of a candle ready to go out: for they surrendered themselves, at the Victor's wills, the lives of the meaner people being only secured. The King used such justice as they had deserved. The bastard Vaurus was beheaded, and his body hung upon a tree without the City, upon the which he had formerly caused a many English and Burgonians to be hanged; whereupon it was afterwards called, Vaurus his tree. Dionegius Vaurus, and Lewis Ghast were afterwards put to death in Paris: the rest, which were between seven and eight hundred, were imprisoned, and their goods divided amongst the soldiers; the taking in of Meaux drew after it the surrendering up of many other places; amongst which that of Crespi in Valesia, of Pierrapont, Mertean, Offemont, Compeigne, Remy, Gurney, Mortemer, Nevil, Montaigne, and others; Moy, Montecurt, and Bressii, were set on fire by their own garrisons, as unable to hold out any longer: the garrisons of Moy, retired themselves to Guise, and the rest elsewhere. King Henry was no sooner gone from Meaux, but the Queen his wife came into Normandy, with a puissant army of horse and archers, under the conduct of the Duke of Bedford; she passed on from Hafew to Rouen, and from thence to the Boys de Saint Vincent, where the King met her, joyfully welcomed by her, his brethren in law, and all the Court, and after they had with great solemnity celebrated the feast of Whitsuntide at Paris, he took his last farewell of her, betaking himself to the first occasions the war offered. The Earl of Warwick was gone with three thousand men to take possession of Gamach, which was to yield itself, in case it were not succoured by the eight of June, and having left there a sufficient garrison he took his way towards Saint Valery, having sent before some few horse to descry the Country: who being met by a hundred horse, they defended themselves, till such time as the Earl came in to their succour, whereby they were forced to withdraw themselves into the City, which was forthwith besieged; those within the Town had the sea open, and the Earl had no ships, insomuch as they scorned his siege; for they furnished themselves with victual by their own ships, or else had them brought unto them from neighbouring Port-townes. But as soon as by his directions they saw ships come from Normandy, they grew to Articles of surrender, if they were not succoured by the fifteenth of September, which they were not: so as all the Towns between Paris and Bullen, were now in King Henry's hands, except Crotois and Guise, the which Monsieur de Harcourt would never yield up, though in the King's name he was thereunto entreated by his brother the Bishop of Amiens. The Dolphin this mean while sat not still; but being twenty thousand men strong, he went to St. Serres; he took charity upon Loire, and besieged Cone, enforcing it to give Hostages to surrender, in case it were not relieved by the 16 of August. But their courage growing warm in this negotiation, and egged on by military discipline, they agreed to fight a pitched battle the aforesaid 16 day: whereupon the Duke of Burgony being ready to go into Artois, advertifed hereof, stayed in Burgony, sending for people into Picardy and Flanders, and gave account hereof to King Henry, who was then at Sentis, entreating him to send unto him some of his men, under some good Leader. His answer was, he would send him none: for he himself would be their Leader. Whilst his mind being greater than his strength of body, he promised what he could not perform: for though he were sick, he thought not he was come to his last end; which in truth was somewhat bitter, & out of season to one of his years; who notwithstanding, according to the will of heaven, was ripe, and at his full growth. So as not able to go himself, nor willing that the succour should come late, he commanded the Duke of Bedford, accompanied by the Earl of Warwick, and other Lords, to lead it along, promising to follow them himself, as soon as possibly he could. But when he was come to Melune (his sickness growing strong upon him) he was compelled to go into a Litter, and to be carried to the Boys de St. Vincent. This mean while the Duke of Burgony being come before Cone, and having mingled the two Nations together, to the end that they might equally share in honour, so to avoid the difference which might arise between them touching precedency therein, he found that the Dolphin, not willing to hazard himself upon the success of a battle, had raised the siege, and was gone to Burges; so as he was forced to be content to have with his honour freed Cone. The Duke of Bedford understanding that his brother grew worse and worse, rid post to the Boys de Saint Vincent, and Burgony not able to go along with him, (for his affairs called him elsewhere) sent Hugh de Lanoi to make his excuse, and to visit the King, who finding his estate of life by all signs desperate, and knowing that he must die, finding his brothers, his uncle, and all the rest, sad and disconsolate, he wished them to praise God, who took him unto him in such a time when as his honour was not subject to the inconstancy of fortune; that he was sorry for nothing but to leave them under the burden of so weighty a business; that their worth and fidelity, did much comfort him; that the Lord God would share the glory between them, which he had had in giving a good beginning thereunto, and which they were to have in bringing it to a happy end; he willed them to remember what they ought unto him in the behalf of his young son; that if he did deserve to be served as his heir, and their Sovereign, he deserved much more so to be, for that his innocent age had not yet been harmful to any: that it was their parts by instructing him in virtue, to infuse into him a disposition to gratitude and love, that by the one he might recompense service, and by the other affection; he advised them above all things else to keep the Duke of Burgonies friendship, and never to disjoin themselves from him: that if any treaties of peace should be with the Dolphin, they should agree to none, without the reservation of Sovereignty, the Duchess of Normandy and Guascony; that they should not set at liberty the Duke of Orleans, and the other prisoners that were in England, till his son was of age. To Humphrey Duke of Gloucester he committed the protection of England, and to john Duke of Bedford the Regency of France, with this caution, that if the Duke of Burgony should endeavour it he should freely yield it up unto him: finally, he recommended the Queen his wife unto them, entreating them to honour and respect her as he had done; all the room was filled with sighs and tears, in midst whereof they promised punctually to obey him: having thus freed himself of worldly affairs by his verbal will, he desired to know of the Physicians how long in their judgements they thought he might yet live: But they referred the event to the good will of God, whereupon he commanded them to speak freely their opinions; after a short consultation, the chiefest of them kneeling down, said unto him, that for what the skill of physic could foresee, he was not likely to live above two hours, a sentence which did no whit startle him, but calling for his Chapleines, he caused them read the seven penitential Psalms before him, and when they were come to the verse, Benign fac Domine in bona voluntate tua Sion ut edificentur muri Jerusalem, do good in thy good pleasure unto Zion, build thou the walls of Jerusalem, he said that his intention had always been (if God had granted him life) after he should have reduced the business in France to a peaceable end, to have gone to the winning of that holy City, but since that the divine Majesty had pleased to dispose otherwise of him, his holy will be done; & they returning again to read the Psalms, he made a blessed and a happy end; dying near about the same time his Physicians had foretold, and having received all those sacraments, which by the Church of Rome were prescribed to dying men: he died the last of August, of a pleurisy, a disease not well known in those days, which caused amongst the common people two several opinions of his death, the one that he died of a disease called Saint Anthony's fire, the other of that called Saint Fiacree, which is convultions, or extension of the nerves, he reigned nine years, five months, and twenty three days, not having fully completed his eight and thirtieth year; his temperature according to the observations of physic, promised a longer life; he was of a lean and sinnowie body, of a black hair, his limbs well proportioned and active, of stature higher than usual, his face well shaped though somewhat long, endowed him with a manlike beauty. England hath had before and since his time many worthy Kings, but of perfections exceeding his, none: he was just, wi●… magnanimous, valiant, I would say fortunate, if fortune had any abiding place with virtue: he undertook a difficult war, in a time when his enemies intestine dissension did facilitate it unto him, he thereby appeased his Kingdom, purging it of all its ill humours, he healed it, and made it greater by reducing slothful and vagabond people (the ordinary plagues of common wealths) from idleness and vice, to warfare and honour, he was served by inclination, and affection; the greatness of his spirit, and his heroic actions were the loadstones which drew unto him his subjects love and reverence; he was of an unblameable life, and an enemy to all vice, which may serve for a sufficient testimony for whatsoever else of good may be said of him: at home he spilt no blood, save that of the Earl of Cambridge and his fellow conspirators; under whose ashes as long as he lived, and some while after, all civil wars was buried; and if he used severity abroad, arms his enemy's obstinacy, and the laws of war, must suffer the blame. The end of the first Volume. THE Henry the 6. FOURTH BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND IN THE LIFE OF HENRY THE six. BY the lives of the preceding Kings we have seen that the Civil Wars had their beginning from the bad Government of Richard the second; that Henry the fourth did first commence them, and Henry the fifth suspend them; but that after 40. years' Peace they should again break forth under Henry the sixth when the Government was established, men's minds quieted and appeased, is a matter worthy of consideration, which ought not to be passed over, to the end we may examine whether this happened by default of the Subjects or Prince, and which of them it was that after the cure of the first malady were causers of the second. We shall find Arguments probable enough if we consider the different natures of the two last Kings. Henry the fifth found a Kingdom usurped by his Father, so exasperated by the deaths and confiscations of many, as he would never have been able to have settled and maintained a Peace had not his valour caused him to be feared, and his virtue beloved by his Subjects; in all the time of his life he met with no other Conspiracy then that of Richard Earl of Cambridge, which was suppressed as soon as undertaken, not for that Richard's Heirs were Children (since that Edmund Mortimer lawful Heir to the Crown outliving him, pretences were not like to be wanting to any one who durst have molested him) but for that Edmund's fearful, (or were it peaceful) nature, the tender years of such as were to succeed him, the ambition of great ones alured by honours, and enriched by foreign Wars, and that another King could not better their private conditions, nor raise the public honour to a higher pitch; were the true causes which did suppress alterations: being dead the fortune which did accompany him during his life, did not for a long time forsake him in the person of his Son; insomuch as in his infancy and two succeeding ages he was by his Subjects served without contradiction, out of hopes that together with the Kingdom he had Inherited his Father's virtues; his tender years privileged by his own comeliness, and the love of others, had not afforded them time to dis-deceave themselves in what concerned valour and wisdom, (virtues in him of much expectation) whilst the bright sunshine of other virtues dazzled the Eyes of the wisest, for malice itself cannot but confess that Henry the sixth was one of the best and holiest Kings that ever England had: if goodness alone without the help of other virtues were only required to the office of a King; but there is difference between the virtues of private Men and of Princes, what is sometime to be praised in the one, is to be blamed in the other; not for that the faculties of operation be not from the highest to the lowest uniform in all, but that being diversified by the differing condition between Princes and Subjects, they produce contrary actions, according as the condition of those who operate is contrary, and as the ways and imaginations of God are not such as are those of Men: so (all due and reverend proportion being given, if any proportion at all be to be given) the conceptions and proceedings of Princes ought not to be such as are those of private Men. Very moral virtues, though the same in all Men are not in them considerable, but with a particular difference, for that becomes them, and they may do that, which becomes not us nor may we do. Henry was a good Man, but no good King. He was borne with good intentions, but of himself simple. Conditions plausible in a private Man, misbecoming him that Reigns, and in all cases harmful, for as wisdom without goodness is a mere infirmity, so goodness without wisdom is a mere defect. Were it not the part of wisdom to put us upon those actions which in reason we ought to do, but only to make us simply or merely good, he would have had no need thereof; nor yet they who are naturally given to be good. Those who imagined all virtues, though differing in name not to differ in Office, but that they all were so many wisdoms, did not perhaps believe amiss; experience shows us that without wisdom fortitude is rashness, justice, severity, and temperance disorder, other virtues are common or indifferent to all Men; this of wisdom in Princes is singular. The goodness of Henry the sixth was a Cloister life goodness, but as the affections of a King do not befit a Clergyman, so do not the affections of a Clergyman besit a King. We are borne under two Laws, the one of God, the other of Nature; the which though distinct are not incompetable, if we do embrace the former which hath no other end but the spiritual health, the choice is good, and much the better, if it be accompanied with contempt of the World, and mortification of the Spirit. If the second, (in which Princes are comprehended, and which joined to faith doth not exclude saving health) to command and to Reign requires active Spirits, as far differing from this contempt and mortification, as aught a Clergyman differ from the lively and ready resentments which are requisite Apoc: Cap: 4ᵒ. in him that commands. The four Beasts which are described to have Eyes before and behind, aught to serve for a type to Henry, for if the inward eyes of conscience were sufficient to him as a Christian, the outward eyes of wisdom were requisite to him as a Prince. A Prince cannot be said to be good and innocent (though of harmless intention and customs) when his simplicity proves hurtful to his welfare, honour, and Subjects. Goodness ought not to be borne a Sister with us, but be begotten by us, we ourselves ought to be the Fathers thereof, our will the Mother, and Election the Soul; for though natural simplicity or sincerity brings with it many advantages, he is notwithstanding more to be commended, who hath not transgressed when he might have done so, for well doing is not defined by Ignorance of evil, or an impotency thereunto, but when a Man is able, and knows how to do amiss, and doth it not. A bound which does not exclude the faculties of civil actions (as did Henry's goodness which was borne a Sister with him) but makes them so much the better, by how much after the primary cause its objects are the second, without which there is no corporeal nor civil life. I know not whether his education did concur with his nature to the making him what he was, but doubtless faults enough are committed in the education of Princes, in their Childhood they are observed with too much respect, whilst their discreet Governors knowing that some Wits require the spurr, some the bridle, aught to make use thereof alternatly, and with respect but not excess: for by thus doing, they will not only make them be reverenced and beloved by their Subjects, but respected and feared by all Nations. However it be, 'tis evident that Henry's ruin did derive itself from this simple inanimate goodness, which lame in its own judgement rested itself upon that of others, so as losing reputation, the Soul of Government, he therewithal lost Authority, Kingdom, Liberty and Life. The Conditions of affairs in both Kingdoms at Henry the fifth's Death was such, as by reason of the good directions he left, could not be amended. His Subjects were ready to obey, drawn by the glory of so many famous Victories, and by the profit which accrewd unto them by so many considerable acquisitions. In France the home dissensions of that Kingdom, the wisdom and valour of the Duke of Bedford, and the good Commanders and Soldiers which waged War under him nourished hopes of more happy proceedings. And the two Brothers, Uncles to the Infant King free from jealousy and evil intelligence (the Duke of Bedford remaining chief in France with the Title of Regent, and the Duke of Gloucester commanding in England under the Title of Protector) did conspire, not only to preserve what they had gotten, but to acquire more: but the cause being ta'en away, the effects cannot continue. Charles the fifth King of France died within less than 3. Months after King Henry the fifth, who being incapable of Government, and governed by his Wife a revengeful Woman, and bad Mother; had by her means alienated his Kingdom, deprived his Son thereof and set dissension among his Subjects to the increase of England's greatness. Philip Duke of Burgony, who (according to the Council of deceased Henry) was to be ensnared by allurements, was by Gloucester distasted, driven thereunto either by ambition, or love, or both. Whereby Men may learn not to build too much upon their own knowledge, but to watch over their selves, every little interest being sufficient to change us to the worse. Since Gloucester, a good and wise Prince, ceased to be so when he suffered himself to be transported by his passions and private interests, seldom meeting with public respects, those who look after the one abandon the other, or else do ruin both the one and the other together, with the State and themselves as did he. These were the true causes of the English retrogadations in France; civil dissensions in France had established the English, and the reconciliation between the Duke of Burgony and Charles the seaventh was their ruin. So as though the recomencement of the Civil Wars be chiefly ascribed to the losses in France, yet since they began not till the King was grown a Man and that the Affairs of France were little better than quite lost, there would have been no liklyhood of any disorders in England, if things had succeeded well, and the Son had been like the Father: for in the same manner as the one suppressed the Conspiracy of the Earl of Cambridge, and thereby won reputation, the other might have quelled the Duke of York's audacity, and have preserved his Kingdom: but the Sword wherewith Scanderberg cut off armed limbs was not of the same temper when managed by another Hand, and therefore the real difference is, that whereas the Earl did Justle with a strong and fierce Lion, his successors encountered with a weak mild lowly Lamb. King Henry was proclaimed King 1422 when he was about 8 Months old, the Duke of Exeter and his Brother the Bishop of Winchester were deputed for the Government of his person, and the Queen his Mother for his Diet, whilst the Duke of Gloucester Protector of the Kingdom, took care for all things which might make for Peace at home, or Wars abroad; the Infant King was brought from Windsor to London to be shown in full Parliament; his Mother's bosom was his Throne, and general acclamations served as the earnest penny of obedience. Aids were willingly contributed for the preservation of what his Father's worth had won. The Duke of Bedford on the other side surprised by the disadvantageous Death of Charles the sixth (which happened in October the same year) and by his being forsaken by many who had formerly followed his Standard to follow the Dolphin (who was proclaimed King by the Name of Charles the seaventh) knowing how contrary to their natural affections that obedience was, which those who remained with him had sworn to the King his Brother; did in a solemn Assembly cause new Oaths to be taken in the behalf of the now Heir, a thing readily obtained but very irreligeously observed, and had it not been for the power and authority of the Duke of Burgony, a Prince of great Possessions and attendance, the affairs of England would not have lasted so long as they did; but they grew worse and worse according as he slackened his vigilancy therein by reason of Gloucester, and the City of Orleans wherewith he was not trusted; by reason of the death of his Sister who was Wife to Bedford, and by his total alienation, when having appeased his anger against Charles, the lives of those first Warriors who were his friends did cease. Henry in Paris was likewise proclaimed, and sworn King of France and England, Monies were there Coined with his stamp and the Arms of both the Kingdoms, whilst Charles of more years but lesser power, and excluded from the Metropolitan City, possessed nothing: on the other side the Loire save the Countries of Berry, Forest, Bourbonne, Lions and Auvergne, the greatest part of Poictou and St. Onges did submit to him, in consideration that the Nobility of those parts depended on him, or else that they Neighbourd upon him: these parts were reduced to such a point, that one part of their Territories being under him, the other under the English, they were necessitated either by complying with the one faction, to offend the other, or else to declare themselves partial for the one of them, conformable to the interest of their possessions. On the other side of the River, he held the Countries of Main and Anjou; some few places in Champagnia and Picardy being forced to tolerate the insolences of his own Soldiers, for not being by reason of his poverty able to pay them, they paid themselves by rapine and extortion upon the poor people, afflicted and impoverished by all sides. The Count de Fois had recovered Languedoc for him from the Prince of Orange; and as for Guienne the Count Cominge by inclination, and Count Arnigniac for hate to Burgony, by reason of the Constable Arnigniacs ignominous Death in Paris near his Bulwarks. All which effects proceeded from the Subjects love, for who shall consider his undisolvable difficulties, will find he could not possibly have overcome them without the resolved patience of those who did obey him; who were constrained to endure not only Hostile injuries, but likewise the injuries and rapine of such Soldiers as were their friends, who being uncorrected and undisciplind were more of damage to them then was the Enemy; hereunto may be added that they had no Prince of the blood to uphold them. The Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon were Prisoners in England, the Duke of Anjou resolute upon the recovery of the Kingdom of Naples; and Burgony their inexorable Enemy: but to dispute the contrary, 'tis likely that was not so much the love to Charles, as the hatred to the English which made them willing to suffer so much: for being but a young Man about 22. years of age he could not have obliged them by benefits, nor in those years have given such proof of himself, as to cause him to be desired: 'tis rather to be believed that being born their presumed King, their desire to exclude the English was that which did only foment their affections. All Nations do naturally abhor being subjected one to another; the diversity of Language, Customs and Humours, causing the reciprocal aversion and hatred which we find in them, and if there were no other reason, for that it is a kind of wretchlesnes (though not always) to be overcome by Strangers, was a prevalent cause of making him be beloved, he being the Nail by which the other of the English Empiremust be driven out. When Charles had understood his Father's Death, and caused his Obsequies to be celebrated, in Espalles (a small Castle in Overgnie, where he than chanced to be, after one Days Mourning, he caused himself to be solemnly proclaimed King: and going from thence to Poitiers, he was with Title of solemnity Crowned: Reens a placeantiently destinated for that Ceremony was by the Enemy forbidden him; so as France had now a divided Crown, not easy to be pieced together, since two did equally entitle themselves King. Whilst it was easy for Charles to piece the divided minds of such, who either were not encumbered or wavering in Burgony's faction, whence it ensued, that to preserve what the English had won, or to augment it, depended now no more upon the hope of aid from France; but upon the proper strength and Council of England: upon Council that they might keep Philip firm unto them, for friends by reason of their passions are changeable; upon strength, since the obstacles which daily increased by the going over of so many to the adverse party were by no other means to be removed. After the two King's Death skirmishes were made in all parts, wherein certain petty places were taken and retaken, not worthy to be mentioned in story. The Pariseans had sent a solemn Embassy into England to require speedy succour against the injuries done by Charles. The English Writers say this Embassy was sent to cloak under this pretended zeal the treason which they were a hatching, how to yield themselves up unto him, which whether it were so or no cannot absolutely be said: but Du Pleis perverting the times, and mentioning the Conspiracy before the Embassy augments the suspicion; they were sent back loaded with promises, the effect whereof the English did better make good, then did the Parisians their Faith. Charles was by this time come to Rochel (being somewhat startled at some forces raised by the Duke of Britain, believing it to be done to his prejudice, and contrary to what was lately agreed on between them during his Father's Life) where sitting in Council, part of the Chamber fell down, which with certain others endamaged john of Burbonne, Seigneur de Preaux he himself being in evident danger, had he not been suddenly drawn from thence. At this time happened the surprisal of Ponte de Melone under the Conduct of john de Greiville, who slew as many English as he found there: as likewise their punishment who trusting upon the Duke of Bedford's absence had appointed time and place for Charles his People to enter Paris, a plot which very well might have succeeded, had not the Duke by his making hast hindered them for coming upon them with good forces; unexpectedly he put many of them to Death, some few escaping by flight: and now no longer trusting them, he put strong Garrisons into the City and parts adjacent, whereof some yielded themselves, and some he took in. He sent for the recovery of Ponte de Melone, Thomas Mountaigue Earl of Salisbury, a man (according to the witness of such Writers as are not English) to be compared to whosoever of the Ancient Romans: and together with him the Earl of Suffolk, the Lord Scales, the younger Lord Poinings, and many others. This place was besieged all january and February, those which were within the Town defending themselves valiantly upon the hope of succour, which to the number of 6000 was Mustered together upon the confines of the Duchy of Berry, under the conduct of the Count d'Omale, Count de Buchane and the Viscount of Narbone; but being come within 6 Leagues of the Enemy, and ordered in Battle array, there fell such disorder amongst them, that they returned; disbanded the greatest part of them, being defeated by the English which were at Chartres and thereabouts, the which when those of the Town understood, they grew into such a fury, as throwing down in the sight of the Enemy Charles his Colours which were set upon the Gates, they tore them in pieces, as also all his other Ensigns, cursing those who had persuaded them to shut themselves up in that Fort, upon perjured Oaths of succour; they yielded themselves their lives only saved, the which was denied to such as had served Henry the fifth, to those who had sworn the final Peace; to those who were Complices in the Death of the Duke of Burgony, and to such Soldiers as were scott's, Irish or Welsh, together with Melene; they surrendered all other Forts which were in their hands, amongst which were Marchuse and Monliere, those who would swear fealty and Homage had their liberties granted them without Ransom; the which all of them almost did; in particular Greville; moved thereunto as I believe by his believing Charles to be dead at Rochel, for when he knew the contrary he was not long in forswearing himself. This mean while Arthur Count de Richmond Brother to john fifth Duke of Britanny escaped away from the Earl of Suffolk, Lord Lieutenant to the King in Normandy, with whom ever since the Battle of Agincourt he had been Prisoner. A civil liberty was permitted him upon Oath and promise not to depart, the which as long as the King lived was precisely observed by him, not listening to his friends who had sundry times offered to backe him if he would fly away, now thinking that by reason of the King's Death, he might with safety to his honour escape, he fled; pretending himself to be free from his Oath, as personal to him that was dead: but who shall well observe it, shall find that bare promises not aggravated by courtesies no ways due nor enforced, as was this the largnes of his Imprisonment, are of as much force in moral affairs with Princes and amongst such as are Nobly borne, as is an Oath in Religion, especially when as pretensions not dying with the King, they together with their estates remain in title and in substance entire unto their Successors, if when the King died he had been close Prisoner, he could not (without a note of folly) have said himself to be disobliged from his promise; so as having escaped he seemed to repent that resolution, which though at all times requisite was then the more to be esteemed of, as it was now the more blame worthy, since his own Death, and not the Death of any other was only able to acquit him of his Oath and promise made. His first flight was to his Brother in Britanny, from thence to his Cousin Philip in Flanders, from whom he received a Commission to procure a Parley between him, Britanny and Bedford, so as being returned from his Brother and having concluded the Interview, Bedford went to receive them upon the confines of Normandy, all three of them coming into an appointed place where Philip stayed expecting them, the Confederacy which was contracted between them was confirmed by a double Marriage, the one between the Duke of Bedford and Anne the younger Sister to Philip, together with the County of Artois in portion, in case they should have any Issue: the other between Count Richmond and Philip's eldest Sister, Widow to the Dolphin Lewis. This being done Burgony and Richmond withdrew themselves to Arras, Bedford to Paris, and the Duke of Britanny to his own Country, to whom Bedford paid 6000. Crowns for his expenses in that journey. The inconstancy of the Dukes of Britanny in their friendship may seem strange to some, being subject to often and momentary changes: but who will examine passages from the time that that State grew litigious will not wonder at it. I have thought good to give you a short breviate thereof for the better understanding of the History, and to ease the Reader of the pains of seeking that in others which I should have omitted. john the third Duke of Britanny who died without Issue, married his Niece jane of Britanny (Daughter to Guy his next Brother but now dead) to Charles of Blois, second Son to Guy of Chatillione Count de Blois, and Margaret Sister to Philip the sixth King of France; to the end that she being the true Heir, other Women having been formerly Heirs to that Dukedom, she might have a Husband that might defend her. When he was dead john Count de Montfort his third Brother (who during his life had no ways opposed his Niece) pretended by prerogative of sex to be Heir unto the State: so as Blois relying upon France, and he on England, they had fierce War together for 23. years, in which time 200000. Men were slain in that quarrel. To Count Montfort, (who as not having entirely possessed Britanny, was not numbered amongst the Dukes thereof) did his Son john succeed, named john the fourth, after that Charles de Blois slain in a great Battle left him possessor thereof. The King of France who could not by force take from him his Estate endeavoured to weaken him by Interposition. He agreed upon this with the Widow, and the Sons of Charles the Defunct, who renounced their pretensions to the Duchy and he his pretences to the Vice-county of Limages; restoring unto them (together with other obligations) the County of Pointevere, an agreement which lasted not long among ulcerated minds. The Duke beside these had two other great Enemies; Beretrand de Gueschin and Oliver de Clissenne his natural Subjects, who having betaken themselves to the service of Charles the fifth against the English proved so gallant Men, that both of them one after the death of the other were Constables of France; so as they having drawn unto the Kings pay the greatest part of the Lords and Commanders of Britanny, who under their command had fought against Charles de Blois, they left the Duke quite bereft of Captains, and Military affairs, and but badly obeyed by his Subjects, who were naturally inclined to the French, so as wrought thereunto by gratitude (Edward the third being his Father in Law who had put him into his Estate) and by necessity (the King of France being his Neighbouring powerful Enemy) he turned sometimes one way sometimes another, till being abandoned by his Subjects, it behoved him to retire himself into England, forsaking his Country lest he should be made Prisoner by them; not for that they hated him, but for that they hated his friendship with the English, whom they thought to be the cause of their ruin, being at last aware that the King of France molested him, not out of the pretended suspicions, but to bereave him of his Estate, they sent for him back a little before the Death of Charles the fifth; whereby hoping now to be in quiet, to please them he renounced his friendship with England, and sided with Charles' the 6t, who succeeded to Charles the fifth. Clissonne who was of greater power with the now King then he had been with the former, finding him without his leaning stock, Ransomed john Count de Pointevere from his Imprisonment in England, upon whom (as Son to Charles de Blois, and jane of Britanny Heir to john the third) the pretences to the Duchy fell, and Marrying him to one of his Daughters, he began under that pretext to trouble him again, the which though it were done under the name of the Count de Pointevere, yet it being the forces of France which did most oppress him, he was forced to betake himself to his accustomed Protection of England, without the which as he could not preserve himself being surmounted by France, so could he find no peace to affy in with France, being betrayed and disobeyed by his Subjects, at last having reconciled himself to Clissonne, and both of them being dead, john the fifth his Son (he of of whom we now speak) brought up in France under the Government of john Duke of Burgony Son in Law to Charles the sixth, would have been constant, if the French had known how to conceal their desire of taking from him his Estate; a thing which he deserved not, for he had sundry times given them proofs of his good will, especially when being come to Amiens with 10000 fight Men, two days before the battle of Agincourt, he sent to the Commanders to desire them to stay for him, the which to their Cost they would not do, his Brother the Count de Richmond being there sorely wounded and taken Prisoner. France by this and other losses growing into a bad condition. Henry the fifth being powerful in Normandy, and he having been treacherously made Prisoner by Pointeveres brethren, and set at liberty by his Subjects, and knowing by certain of the Kings and Dolphins letters which came into his hands, that it was they who had been the boutefe●…'s (to boot that it made not for him to have so puissant an Army upon his confines) he made agreement with Henry and afterward forsook him, being naturally inclined to the other side, at last the two Kings being dead; to comply with Philip of Burgony, he condescended to this last confederacy with the Duke of Bedford at Amiens. The following inconstancies will be by this story manifested, one thing only remains to be superficiously known, that Britanny was never at quiet, till such time as (Lewis the twelfth having Married Anne the last Heir, of whom came Claudia and Renete; the latter Married to Hercules the second Duke of Ferrara, the former to Francis the first King of France) she was by the said Francis united to the Crown of France. The Duke of Bedford made but small abode after his return to Paris, for having assembled a great number of Soldiers, he went to celebrate his Marriage at Blois in Champania, whether his Wife was brought accompanied with a great number of the chiefest Ladies and Lords of Burgony; the Marriage being consummated and the solemnities over, he brought her along with him, not forbearing by the way as he came to besiege Pons upon the Seen which he took by assault, putting the defendants to the Sword, so as his Wife amidsts arms and blood was brought to Paris. The Earl of Salisbury was gone to besiege Montegulionna a little Fort but of much inconvenience to the Neighbouring parts: for being hardly to be taken, for Garrison (though not of above 120. Men) was become very insolent: he spent there 6 Months, having endeavoured, though in vain, at his first coming to take it by assault. This mean while William Stuart Constable of Scotland was come into France with 3000. Scots, with whom together with certain others that were added unto him by Charles, he went to besiege Crevant a place which held for the Duke of Burgony whose Mother (he being himself in the Low Countries) gave order to Tonlongonne his Marshal to succour it, having advertised the Regent Bedford, that he might do as much on his side. Salisbury was commanded to assist in this succour, so as leaving Men sufficient to continue the siege, he joined himself with Tonlongonne in Auserres; and being come within a quarter of a league of Crevant, they lighted making their Horses be led aloof of from the Army, to the end that they might rely upon their Soldier's Arms not their Horse's legs; they marched slowly up unto the Enemy that they might not tire themselves being much encumbered by the Sun, which in july seemed to them (being armed) and in March, to be very hot. The Scotch Camp was augmented by 600. Spanish Horse sent thither by Charles under the Conduct of Marishall Severa●… to boot with whom was come the Count de Vantadore, and many others; these were placed upon an advantageous Hill, by which the English were to have come if they had taken that way, but coming another way, they could not join Battle for the River jona was between them. Such was the will they had to fight as drew them down into the plain, keeping themselves in readiness, the one nor the other side not doing any thing for almost the space of 3. Hours. The first that moved were the English and Burgonians, as those who were come with a resolution to fight, they set upon a Bridge defended by the Enemy, and having won it passed forward, whilst those of the Town sallied forth to second them, the Battle was fought with valour, resolution and hatred, but the Scots who had placed themselves in the Forefront of the Battle, being almost all slain or taken Prisoners (amongst the number of Prisoners were the Constable and the Count de Ventadoure, each of them with like misfortune having lost an eye) and the French set upon behind by the Garrison of Crevent, the Assailants won the field having slain 1200. of the Enemies, and taken 400. Prisoners. This Victory, to boot with the freeing of Crevant, was accompanied with the taking in of Cussi Chasteau de La Roche Schartres upon the Loire, Mondidiere, Abbeville, and Han upon the Soame. This is the relation made by Monstrelette and the French Writers. The English Writers who do particularly name the chief of those who were slain or taken Prisoners, affirm: that their Men past the River, forcing not only the Bridge but the Fords: that besides the chief Men whom they name, and the ordinary Soldiers which they put not into this number, they slew 1800. French Gentlemen, 3000. Scots, amongst which the Lord of St. johnstonne and 12. Knights whose names they relate, and took 2200. French Prisoners all Gentlemen; that on their side were slain 2100, amongst which Sr john Grace, Sr. William Hale, Sr. Gilbert Halsull, and Sr. Richard Madocks. Boetius, and Buchanan speak nothing at all of this: let the Reader believe as he listeth. After this bickering the Earl of Salisbury returned to his Siege of Montaguliome where he found that the defendants of 120. that they were, were reduced to 30, the rest having forsaken the place, to the end that the Victuals might hold out the longer to those that remained; but when they had eaten all their Horses, they could not though yielding up the Town save their lives without the sum of 22000. pieces of Gold by them there called Saluti; which they obliged themselves to pay, leaving four of the chiefest of them for their security. On the contrary side the Marishall Tolongonus at his return found not foretime with so smiling an aspect, for believing that by Monies he had corrupted the Captain of a Fort called lafoy Busiere, he was abused through too much belief; for whilst he went to actuate the bargain, the Captain having fitly placed two Ambushes brought him together with 11. others into the Castle, where taking him Prisoner he at the same time caused almost all those that were without to be slain, and had it not been for the Imprisonment of the Count de Ventadoure, for whom he was changed, he had not been soon set at liberty. This Year in the Month of july was the first Son of Charles borne, who in his due time succeeded him in his Kingdom by the name of Lovis the 11. a fantastical Prince and almost ever rebellious towards his Father, so as whilst he thought to have been at quiet being free from the English Wars, he gave against his Sons turbulencies; which brought him to his end before his time, marcerated by jealousy and slain by suspicion: His birth notwithstanding (so uncertain are we of future events) brought unto him great cause of joy; for the pledge of a Successor increaseth the Subject's love: he was howsoever a great Prince, who proved successful in the rules of dissimulation, rather borne together with them then learned of any other. Ghirard de Hallian describes him to be malicious, wary, cruel, and full of Cozenage. In England this mean while it was resolved to give liberty to james the first King of Scotland, after 18. years' Imprisonment; which caused to the first mover thereof (since home hatred, not love nor Charity had moved him to endeavour it) instead of gratitude, unhappy success, and an ignominous end. Robert Duke of Albany, Governor of Scotland, being dead the year 1420. (just 15. Years after the Death of his Brother Robert the third) his Son Mordecay succeeded him in the Government, one who resembled his Father in the profuse spending of the goods of the Crown amongst the Nobility, to the end that forgetting the Prisoner King, they might be content with the present condition, and was like the King his Uncle in his Children; for having neither ability nor wit to cause himself to be obeyed by them, he was through desperation, and despite reduced to ruin at the same time, both them and himself. Of the 3. (for 3. they were) Walter was the most insolent, although they shared all alike in haughtiness and disrespecting others. Pride and the neglect of Inferiors was by them esteemed gravity, and what became them; and such insolent actions as arise from them proper and natural to Men of royal Lineage, and to generous and magnanimous Hearts. Mordecay had often times admonished them, but because in stead of reaping fruit thereby, he was laughed at by them, he took no further care thereof, placing all his dislikes upon the back of Patience, till such time as the burden grew too heavy for him to bear. He very much loved field sports, especially Hawking, and having one Day an excellent Faulkon on his Fist, Walter did with such incivility require it on him, as he denying it, the other snatched it from his hand, wrung off the neck, and threw the Carcase at his feet: at which the Father being incensed, said unto him, that since he had in vain used all means possible to bring him to obedience, he was resolved to find out one whom both his Son and he should be forced to obey, and he effected his words; for a Parliament being immediately called, the King's freedom was resolved upon, Ambassadors were chosen and sent into England; where their request was maturely consulted on; those who were against it alleged; that having been detained so many years, his Captivity was by him to be esteemed an injury never to be forgotten, and for the which he would take present revenge, since England was now busied abroad, that being at liberty he would regulate the disorders of Scotland, the Governor's authority not being sufficient to quench the contentions which Day by Day grew greater among the great ones, nor to remedy the Thefts, Murders and Rapines, which as it were by reprisal was committed by the common People; so as since nothing could prove more advantageous for the affairs of England, all alteration was pernicious. Others being of a contrary opinion, affirmed his Captivity was so unlikely to raise in him any such conceits, that it was rather by him to be accounted the original of all his good fortune, since that living there safe from his Uncle's snares, he was fall'n into the hands of two Kings, who proving Fathers to him in education, were not therefore much commended by such, who prefer what is useful to what is honest; who argue that a worse resolution could not have been taken then to have perfected wisdom by study, and strength by the exercise of Arms in a Prince of so sublime inclinations; whilst to do well they should have brought him up in all common vices, and have made him effeminate amongst the worst of conversations: that to have done otherwise was as much as to expect what befell him, who nursed up a Snake in his bosom which when it had recovered his heat slew him, that had preserved it: fitting considerations for Tyrant Princes, but not for such as were so given as were these two Kings; for if the one by making him Prisoner, the other by detaining him had had respect to their own proper interests, they would have treated him as an Enemy; but their having enriched him with so virtuous education, not to be lost neither by liberty nor Imprisonment, was so rare and unparalleled an example, as he beyond all others was ever to acknowledge such. The Duke of Gloucester who thought there could be no better means then this to join Scotland and England and sever it from France, concluded his freedom setting a fine upon him of 100000. Marks, and giving him for Wife joan Daughter to the Earl of Somerset, Cousin-german to Henry the fifth, and Niece to the Bishop of Winchester whom he loved, so as having paid part of his Ransom with his Wife's Portion, and given in Hostages for the rest (the which was afterwards paid by the Subjects in so good a manner as that they seemed not to be therewithal any whit aggreived) he went his ways nobly waited upon to his confines by his ancient friends, by his new allies and richly presented by his Father in Law. Being come into his Kingdom he found it like a Ship tossed by the Seas. Nothing remaining for maintenance of the Crown save only the Customs, the rest was all squandered away and bestowed upon particular Men by the two succeeding Governors: Robert the Father, and Mordecay the Son, to the end that not minding his return they might adhere unto them: to public grievances private ones succeeded; the first complaints were against Walter, who was Imprisoned; and after him Mordecay and Alexander, james who was the third growing hereat mad, thinking to redress evil by evils; assaulted Dumbartaine a populous City, where letting loose the reins unto his fury, he put Men, Women and Children unto the Sword, none being excepted from this Cruelty save such as fled: being by the King pursued, he fled into Ireland leaving his Father and his Brethren in the Hangman's hands, who were shortly after beheaded. He carried himself towards England as did his predecessors, notwithstanding his Allyment, Oaths, and benefits received; whereof the English Writers accusing him, and the Scottish recriminating moved by passion, they leave the story and fall to invective speeches, whereas the accusers should consider, that as our understanding works diversely in us according to the diversity of our temperatures, so Princes who are the states understanding, work only according to the interest of state which is their temperature. Obligations and courtesies things apart and extern give place to this intern inseparable disposition, in like manner as desire gives way to nature, in that which by nature cannot be otherwise. It made not for Scotland that England should be Master of France, since they might then fear their own subjection. Henry the seaventh bound to the French in having received aid from them against Richard the third (as we shall see) forbore not, notwithstanding to work according to the temperature of his state, doing what in him lay to keep them from making themselves Masters of Britanny being a place far of, and disjoined from his Kingdom, whereas Scotland being near and Contiguous was fitter for Invasion, yet was he not blamed for this: the first law of States is indemnity and self safety. Neither would the French have formerly moved in his behalf not being any ways offended nor molested by Richard, had they not hoped by nourishing Civil Wars to better their affairs, an end which took away the Obligation, for Princes can hardly oblige one another, save for their particular interests; it may be alleged that his sworn homage ought to have obliged james to have kept his word. In conscience he ought to have done: but yet ought he not so to be upbraided as if he had done what never had been done before; the French accuse Edward the third for that having done homage to Philip the second, he awhile after laid pretences to his Crown, the pretention not arising since but before his doing of homage; if the one be excused the other aught to be so likewise, necessity enforced Edward; he ran hazard not doing it to lose what ever he held in that Kingdom, having as than neither forces nor intention to make his pretences, nor is it likely he ever would have had without the favour of the Emperor, Duke of Geldres and of his neighbouring Provinces, Flanders, Brabant, Hannault, juliers, Liege and Collen, I was willing to allege this Example passing by the many others which in like case I could produce, for that I thought the sincerity of my pen did require it: but the rest are not for all this to be excused. There is no State so innocent but for what concerns promise (and by no means excusable as this) is besmeared with blemishes blacker than is the blackest Coal, never to be washed off but by the Water of Oblivion: and in that promiscuous generality I accuse none, I only accuse and condemn Reason of State, the general Idol of all Governments. Buchanan who upbraids the English with having undone whatsoever of good they had formerly done unto james, by loding him with so insufferable a Ransom, does them much injury; for neither does Hector Boetius blame them for it, neither could james being a King be taxed at less. David one of his Predecessors paid the same sum to Edward the third and john King of France three Millions of Gold, besides the Provinces which he bound himself to restore, so as there was no injury done to james being taxed with the like sum as a King of Scotland formerly was, and so far inferior to a King of France: for what remains, the Fatherly and Brotherly piety of Henry the fourth and Henry the fifth in giving him such instructions as made him prove the most famous and virtuous King that ever Scotland had, frees them from all calumny, and makes it appear, that since therein they had none of the common interests of State spoken of but rather the contrary, it did proceed merely from the magnanimity of those two valiant and excellent Princes. Ten thousand Soldiers were come from England to Paris, just at such time as the French had made themselves Masters of two important places. Compaigne equally distant from Paris and Amiens, and Crotoi a place of consequence on the Sea side upon the Coast of Picardy. The Earl of Suffolk was sent by the Regent to recover Compaigne accompanied by the Messieurs de Ligni and de Lilliadam with whom he encamped himself on both sides the River Oise encompassing the Walls thereof with Soldiers, Trenches and Artillery to the end that he might the easilier and the sooner win it: but he was likely to have lost there many men and much time had it not been for a happy exigent which he luckily laid hold of Sir john Falstaff an English Knight, had not many Days before taken Gerolumus Raymond surnamed Mariolanus Prisoner, a valiant Captain, who having formerly commanded those Soldiers, who were now shut up in Compaigne was by them passionately loved. He made him be brought from Paris to the Camp, and putting him in a Cart, they presented him to the sight of the besieged with a rope about his Neck, threatening to put him to death if they would not surrender themselves; they had not much ado to prevail with them, for those of the Fort thought it bootless to trouble themselves with the maintaining of a Fort which not being succoured was to be lost; they surrendered the Town, their Captain's life and liberty preserved; and in their own behalves their Lives, Horses, Arms, and Baggage. james de Harcourt Charles his Lieutenant General for that Province was he who defended Crotoi, one of his best and most enriched commanders, this Man having lost Noel a Castle belonging to himself, surrendered by those who did defend it; and Rues a place not to be defended, being abandoned had put himself into this Town with intention to endure the Siege, which Paul Butler an English Commander laid to it by Sea and Land, by Shipping and Land forces, brought from Normandy; he defended it from june till the midst of October: but both of them being weary, not so much in respect of the time they had spent but for what in all appearance was of longer duration, either for the ones achievement or others succour, capitulation was made for the surrendering of it up upon the third day of March ensuing, always provided if in the three first days of that Month the Regent nor those that should be by him sent to receive that place, should not be by him or some other of Charles his forces defeated; the Siege being raised and all Articles observed the place was surrendered up upon the appointed day, none appearing in the succour thereof. Harcourt himself being dead, whilst practising wiles upon a strength belonging to monsieur de Partene his Wife's Uncle, and coveting the lives of others he lost his own. The Duke of Gloucester was intent in the execution of his Office, when fortune to cross the good way he was in, threw upon him jocheline of Baviers, Countess of Holland, Zealand and Hannault, Mistress of Frisia and Wife to john Duke of Brabant, who flying from her Husband got into England, a business which to be well understood must be taken from its beginning. The house of Bavaria was come into the possession of the said Provinces inherited by Margaret Wife to the Emperor Lodovic the eighth of Bavaria by the death of William the fourth his Brother who was Master thereof slain by the Frysons, leaving them to his Son William the fifth, who becoming mad and without issue they fell upon his Brother Albertus, to whom did succeed his Son William the sixth Father to this jacoline; who was the last she of the House of Bavaria commanded in those Countries. Now she having been Married to the Dolphin of France and left by him a Widow, her Father William would have her to Marry (a dispensation being to be procured from the Council of Constance, there being then no Pope) john Duke of Brabant, her Cousin-german for Margaret her Mother was Sister to Anthony Duke of Brabant, Father to john; William dying before this Marriage was concluded, john of Baviers Bishop of Liege his Brother and Uncle to jacoline, hoping by the Title of Guardian to work himself into the Government of these States, wrought so with the Emperor Sigismond (though he formerly assented to the aforesaid Marriage) as that the dispensation should be denied unto her: and giving up his Bishopric (held by him the space of 27. years with much War and Blood) into the hands of Martin the fifth lately chosen, he went into Holland, where by assistance of such as sided with himself, Master of certain places, threatening War unto his Niece if she would not submit unto his Guardianship: she and her husband were advertised of her Uncle's sinister proceedings in the Council; and having obtained the dispensation from the new Pope, it was by the Emperor's importunity redemanded, when alleged the evils and Wars which were thereupon likely to ensue. john of Baviers had received a Copy of the revocation before the Original came, and had sent it them to stop their proceedings, but it being by them rejected, as not authentical, not coming from the Pope, they Married themselves, the Husband being 16, the Wife 17 years old: this Marriage was shortly after confirmed by the Pope himself, declaring that the revocation being surreptitiously obtained, the dispensation was in its first vigour, so as they might continue without any scruple in the state of Matrimony wherein they were. john of Baviers falling in this design entreated and obtained a dispensation for himself likewise to Marry, not having in his so many years of Episcopacy exceeded the degree of Deacon, he Married Elizabeth Duchess of Luxenburg Niece to the Emperor Sigismond, from whom he obtained in Feefarme all the territories belonging to jacoline as fall'n to the Empire, William being dead without any Heirs Male, not remembering that they had descended to the House of Baviers by Female succession; but he was stoutly opposed by those States who objected unto him; that as they did not acknowledge any one but her for their Princess, so he himself had acknowledged her for his, by doing homage to her for those Lordships which he possessed. That Women were not there excluded succession when the case had so fall'n out; that for this they had Letters and approbation from former Emperors, nor was this the first; with these protestations they declared themselves his Enemies; and Hannault more than all the rest, since she had no dependency upon the Empire; but the War which for this cause the Duke of Brabant waged with them ended so favourably for him, that besides having granted him by Title of inheritance divers Countries in Holland, he was declared Lord Lieutenant for 3 years with Sovereign authority in all the rest, Hannault only excepted. So as having now reduced the whole arbitratorship unto himself he did so work upon the said Duke partly by wiles, partly by snares, as that he did not only prorogue unto him his title for 7 years longer, but by his instigation became an Enemy to his Wife, and by taking from her and changing her attendants, did so much incense her that to be rid of him she retired herself into Hannault accompanied by her Mother, and afterwards herself alone into England, where the Duke of Gloucester incited either by love or out of the hopes of so great States fell upon a resolution of Marrying her. For the which some apparent reason being to be given, they pretended the dispensation to be invallid, and she caused the Duke of Brabant by his Proctors to be cited to Rome, she demanded that the Marriage might be declared null; a business wherewith the World was scandalised, and which above all others troubled Duke Philip, joined by Father and Mother in the same degree of Consanguinity to them both; for he and Brabant were Sons to two Brothers; he and jacholina to Brother, and Sister: by which kindred he afterwards became Heir both to the one and the other. But because the Progress of this business fell out the next ensuing year I will reserve the relation thereof to its proper place; having enlarged myself herein out of a belief that others might have the same curiosity that I had; for not finding in the stories which treat hereof, the Light I did desire to see; what moved Gloucester to Marry another Man's Wife, I could find no satisfaction save in the History of Holland. john Poole Brother to the Earl of Suffolk had the Government of Auranches in Normandy; who thinking he lived but idly in his garrison, gathered together about 2500 Men, taking them from their appointed garrisons to Anjou, wherewith making excursions even to the Town of Angiers, he burned the Suburbs thereof, spreading himself every where about to the much prejudice of the Country, till such time as loaded with prey and Prisoners he intended to return. But adversity causing wariness, and prosperity the contrary, as his men were marching out of file and in disorder, and doubting nothing; they were set upon by john de Harcourt Count of Omale and Charles his Lieutenant in the two Provinces of Anjou and Maine accompanied by the Viscount of Narbonne the Baron of Coulice, Ambrogius de Lora monsieur de Larchet, by Andrew and Guy de Lavall Britons, who together with the commonalty of those Frontiers were gone to join with him, making about the number of 6000. Men; with these he gave upon the others who were in disorder, mingled with their Carriages and Prisoners, and (not without some difficulty) defeated them: 300. of them being left dead upon the place, and 600. taken Prisoners, amongst which their Conductors, the rest saving themselves by flight. Hallian and Argentres say that the number of the dead were 1400, a difference of no small consideration, having obtained this victory he passed on forwards hoping by the good luck he had therein to take Auranches, wherein he failed; so as firing the Suburbs of St. Lo, he returned to Main; but fortune which ballanceth her adventures, that she may seem to be just, though indeed she be not so, did by, contrary events put life into the one party, and mortify the other: for the Bastard de Baume, and monsieur de Craignar, making the like incursions into the Country of Macone, were unexpectedly met by Matthew Goches, who having with him a number of English not inferior to them, set upon them, and did so behave himself as that the French were almost all slain: the Bastard of Baume having done all that a brave Soldier, and Commander could, seeing there was no other help, clapped spurs to his Horse to save himself; but Goches, who was upon as fleet a Horse as he, overtook him at the Castle Gate, where he thought to have entered, and took him Prisoner, presenting him to the Earl of Salisbury, who to encourage the rest, did together with the Prisoner give him one of the best Horses he had. The English possessed all Normandy, except Mount St. Michael, a Fort situated upon the top of a Mountain, in a little Island named by the same name, some two leagues distant from the continent, and some three leagues from Auranches, unaccessable, and not to be won but by Famine; they had laid siege thereunto, debarring them of being come unto by any, or of going forth themselves, so as it was impossible to Victual it, the Sea being guarded by many Ships: the Duke of Britanny, who could not brook the loss thereof for fear lest the English forces might advance to his prejudice (not minding the late capitulations at Amiens) resolved to raise the siege: the chief of this enterprise was monsieur de Beufort Admiral of Britanny, the principal authors, William Monfort Cardinal of Britanny and Bishop of St. Malo, Messieurs de Limbour, de Montalban, and de Coutchen; who having armed a good number of Ships in the Haven of St. Malo, filled them with Soldiers and Bow men, having made all this preparation with such secrecy, as they were upon the Enemy before he was aware. Terrible was the bickering, naval fights not being subject to escapes or retreats, and much less the English at this time blocked up by the British Vessels, and fast tied by their own Anchors; they grappled together but came not to handy blows by reason of the English Ships fight, so as having a long time laboured with Weapons, Fire, and Arrows, the Britons who were well provided of Soldiers had the Victory over the English, who were but meanly stored with men, designed only for the safeguard of the Ships, they slew them almost all, together with the Mariners and Pilotts, some few only escaping by sail. Argentres says that the besiegers seeing their Men lost, and not daring to expect the Enemies landing fled away, abandoning their Holds; had it been so, 'twould have been by the assistance of an ebbing Sea, for otherwise being in an Island and without Ships, they could not have saved themselves. The English Historians make no mention of this, nor many French, those that do, write it thus; that the Admiral of Britanny having sunk some of the English Vessels he gave chase to the rest, and that the besieged joining with those that came into their succour, assaulted the besiegers, defeated them, and freed themselves from them; but that escaping to Ardenon 3000. paces distant from the Mountain they there built a Fort, from whence issuing forth they had many skirmishes with the garrison; and that the Baron Colonsus having agreed thereupon, with those of the garrison, came at an appointed time and slew above 200. English, taking Sr. Nicholas Burdet Prisoner, a rich and valiant Knight; a Narration much differing from that of Argentres, who relates it somewhat obscurely, but yet ends it, the rest giving it no end at all, neither can it be gathered from them, if besides the 200. that were slain, or 240. according to Giles, any others remained: besides they name not any one head in this expedition; which they forget not to do in businesses of less consequence. This mean while Victories and losses were had by both sides, but not equally, worthy notice, and therefore rather to be pointed at then described. john of Luxenburg besieged Guisse a place belonging to Renato D' Anjou Duke the Bar, and Brother to the King of Sicily; who forbore to succour it being so advised by the Duke of Lorraine his Wife's Father; for they should both of them have put their States in too great danger, if they should have declared open War with two such potent Enemies as were England and Burgony; so as they thought it the lesser evil to suffer it be lost, then to hazard the rest; the defendants did what they could to defend it under the command of john de Proisi their Captain, but not being succoured they surrendered the Town: it fell otherwise to Sadone in the County of Virtue, which being besieged, threatened and taken by force by the Earl of Salisbury, met with the last of ruins, being sacked and the Soldiers almost all slain: but such were the Burgonians Insolences under john de Luxemburg, and so insufferable even to such as sided with the Duke, as they resolved to make an Assembly at Roie where having considered their condition, and expostulated their injuries they resolved to change sides: but all would not do so, not that they did not desire it, but for the danger they were likely to encounter: those who declared themselves for Charles were Mussieurs de Longeville, de St. Simone, de Maillis de Reicourt and others; some of which falling afterwards into the Enemy's hands were severely put to death: being this mean while all banished, they furnished their own Habitations and Governments with good garrisons, entering into mortal War with the English and Burgonians: to such as accused them of breach of faith, they answered, that it made more for them to have an open declared War, then to endure the insolences of such, as under title of friendship and defence did every where commit injuries, roberies, and contumacies. A good example to Princes not to suffer the Dogs which are to defend their Houses, turn Wolves amongst their Flocks. But the incorrigibleness of Military men proceeds not always from them; it is impossible that Soldiers be well disciplined in long and Civil Wars, especially if their Commanders be avaricious; such inconveniences have been and will be, no remedy being to be had for it. For where Wars grow inveterate, and where hatred together with damage doth increase, humanity grows there corrupted or is totally lost; He not being allowed of for a good Soldier who is not brutish. Piety, conscience, and other Christian affections are lulled asleep by extortion, violence and the habit of being imbrued in blood. Charles had sent Reynauld de Schartres Archbishop of Rheims his Chancellor in company of the Earl Douglasse into Scotland to raise there 5000. men, with the which being returned into France, he brought along with him the Earl Boughan his Son in law, and john Stuart constable of Scotland, to all which Charles gave divers possessions the better to encourage them to serve him. To Douglasse and his Heires-male, he gave the Duchy of Touraine in fe●… farm: though others write, he did but pawn it unto him; He Earl Bowhan Lo. constable but neither of them enjoyed these honours long, to Stuart he gave the Lordship of Aubenny which is by his posterity possessed to this day, and to captivate their good wills, and make the Scottishmen partial in his behalf, he took a 100 of them for the guard of his person, an institution to this day maintained by the Kings his successors. He had likewise a little before this received an aid of 1000 foot and 600. lances from Philip Maria Duke of Milan; these forces being added to his own, he made up the body of an Army consisting of 18000. men, (not counting those who were dispersed abroad in other Provinces;) He made use of these men as of a marching Machine, conducted by gallant and experienced Commanders; neither was he long in setting them on work, though with ill success. The Count Richmond had at this time forsaken the confederacy 1424. made at Amiens, by reason of some distaste he took at the Duke of Bedford; but what the business was I find no where specified save by Serres, who taxing the Duke of too much haughtiness, sayeth that the Count being gone unto him to receive some charge worthy of him and his affinity; He found him so hard and intractable, as that being accustomed to the affability of the King of France, he took distaste thereat, and returned back with a resolution of trying all means he could to put himself into Charles his good opinion, and to endeavour that the Duke his Brother should do the like. The garrison of jury (a place belonging by inheritance to Ambrose de Lore, and which being taken by Henry the fifth was given in gift to this Count Richmond with all the emoluments thereof) understanding his revolt, declared themselves for France. Bedford laid siege unto this town, the which defended itself till such time as a mine being ready to play they yielded, the Castle remaining yet untaken, which after some day's siege agreed likewise to surrender itself, if it were not succoured on the day of the assumption of the virgin Mary. Hostages were given hereupon, and the Captain was permitted to advertise the King thereof; this place was of great consequence to Charles, which had it not been, his reputation would have enforced him to succour it, for it was a kind of defiance to be advertised thereof by the consent of the enemy. Resolving then upon it, he charged the Duke of Alansonne to succour it, yea though he should hazard the battle: Alansonne obeyed, marching towards it with the aforenamed Army; being come near to the Town, he sent 40. Horsemen to survey the Camp; but such were the relations he heard, as he thought it the lesser evil to loose jury, then to hazard a battle. A resolution which displeased the rest; he notwithstanding took on his way towards Vernuille, presenting himself before it in so brave and stately manner, that it not being to be doubted, but that he came from jury; whether it was known he was gone to raise the siege, he easily made the inhabitants believe, that he had defeated the Duke of Bedford, slain his men; the Duke himself with some few being escaped on horseback. A tale which bearing with it a seeming likelihood; was easily credited; the place yielded itself up unto him; and 'twas a purchase which properly belonged unto him, for he had not long before obtained it from Charles. The Castle of jury this mean while not succoured, Gerard de Palliere as he presented the keys unto the Duke, showed him a letter signed and sealed by 18. Lords, wherein they promised him to come upon the precise day, with a resolution to fight and raise the siege: afterwards he added, that since they by falsifying their promise had given him so great a wound, he found no other salve whereby to heal it, but by making their breach of promise known. To which the Duke replied, that since they would not deign to come to him, he would go to them, with a resolution to end all disputes by Arms. He commanded the Earl of Suffolk to follow him, who taking with him 600. horse, went to Bertrille where hearing of the loss of Vernuille, he by post advertised the Duke thereof; who marching forthwith thereupon sent word to Douglasse that he intended to dine with him the next day, that therefore he desired him to expect him, and see that dinner were ready. Douglasse answered, that being come from Scotland of purpose to visit him; he would not fail in preparing for him the banquet he desired; but neither was Douglasse nor any of the other Captains minded to give battle, for jury being lost, the thing for which they fought, they should not do well to hazard preposterously, and without necessity against a victorious enemy: those forces which were Charles his only stay and support, and that doing otherwise they should at least make good the place of advantage wherein they were; having Vernuille upon their back, their soldiers likely to grow fresh with rest, and weary if they should travel; But the Viscount of Narbonne showing what shame they were to undergo, if they should not abate the edge of Bedford's bravadoes, caused his troops take arms in a tumultuous manner (composed of Provincials gascons and men of Tholouse, all good soldiers) saying, that if the wisest would not follow him, he could do no less than go alone to defend with the hazard of his life the honour of France, so as moved thereunto by shame they all confusedly followed him, and were by the event too late taught, that resolutions contrary to reason have been seldom seen prosperous they made one only Battalion of their men, placing 1000 horsemen upon each side of their flanks and 400. of those that came from Milan in front to annoy the enemy's ordnance, to the end that they being opened the gross battle might the easier enter. The Duke of Bedford was not displeased with this order, for finding himself to be inferior to them in number, it behoved him to make one only squadron of all his men; He placed bowmen on their flanks and front, secured by certain sharpened poles, which fastened in the earth with their points outward, served for pikes against the shock of the horse; He made no use of horse, but causing them to be fastened together by the reins and tails, he made them stay in the Arrere of the battle with the Pages, Servants, Carriages, and Baggage guarded by 2000 bowmen; the fray endured 3. hours without any diversity of fortune; the 400. horse which could not open the English troops (though they did a little trouble them at their first assault) passed forward toward the carriages thinking to find less obstacle there, whilst the rest of the horse, infesting the enemy's flanks, wrought so much, as having put them in some little disorder, they cried out victory, whilst they had no share at all therein; for the second files holding close together firmed the former, and the bowmen by their shooting did suppress the hopes of their supposed advantage, so as the English having withstood their first brunt, and passing from defence to offence, charged hot upon them, whilst the horse galled by the bowmen were the first that fled, the 400. that were gone against the carriages being galled by a thick shower of arrows, were constrained to betake them to their heels: pursued by the Archers, who fresh and free from the custody of the horse joined themselves with the rest, letting fly at the enemy's Battalion, who weary, wounded, and in disorder remained; the greatest number of them slain upon the field, and those who fled towards the Town (the gates whereof were shut lest the enemy might enter in with the rest) found in the ditches thereof death and sepulture; those who betook themselves to the open fields did better; it was well for them the enemy had no horse; and that they were busied in the taking of Prisoners. Amongst the rest, the Duke of Bedford himself fought bravely and manfully. This battle happened in the month of August 1424. the day being uncertain, it being diversely said to have been on the 8. 16. 17. and 28. but I believe it happened on the 17. since it is by most part so affirmed, and because the night after jury was rendered, the 16. the Duke went from thence and came on the 17. to Vernuille, the way being not above 5. leagues. I was willing to note this variety not for that the business doth deserve it, but since we are to meet with others in more substantial affairs, particularly in the calculation of years, no man may wonder if sometimes to follow one, I descent from the rest, according to the English Writers witness, by the testimony of the Heralds of both Nations there was slain of French and Scots 9700. and 2100 of their men. Monstrelet names but 1600. English, and between 4. and 5000. of the others, the greatest part whereof were Scots; Paulus Emilius 5000. Giles and Belleforest 4000 Alleyn, Chartier, Chesnes and Dupleix 4500. Argentres is he alone, who differing from the rest affirms them to have been 7000. Dupleix sayeth, that as the English make their own loss to be less than it was; so they make their enemy's loss to be greater, wherein he is deceived; for since they confess it to be 2100. they make it to be 500 more than he or the others; it is true that Polidore Virgil numbering the lost French to be about 5000. adds, that the common report was that the number of dead and Prisoners amounted to 15000. but this he doth not affirm for truth, so as in such diversity it will not be hard for us to guess at the truth from the total number of both their Armies. For since the French write, that their Army consisted of 18000. and the English but of 98000. it follows, that if the number of the dead on their side did not exceed 4. or 5000. and of the English 2100. there should yet remain of their men alive between 13. and 14000. and of the adversary 7700. so as after the battle their number was the greater by 5. or 6000. but let us take those 6000. and let us give them to Salisbury to content Serres, and let us suppose, that the English Army was 15800. all this granted we shall find, that if the number of their dead were 4000 the number of those who remained was yet greater by 300. if 4500. less by 200. and if 5000. less by 700. a difference in like case of small moment, besides it is not to be believed, that so valiant a Nation would have quitted the field, unless they had lost so many as without blame might have made them inferior to their enemy; and their Writers thinking thereby to sustain their reputation withdraw from it, since it makes more for them to have been overcome fight and dying upon the place, then to have yielded the field and fled away whilst they were as many in number if not more, and if reply be made that from these the 3000. should be withdrawn, who were left under Ramburres to make good Vernuille, those must likewise be substracted from the English who were lest to guard jury, and the Castle, places lately recovered from the enemy, and which in reason were not to be kept without a good garrison; Moreover the battle was begun with 2000 Archers less, without the which the fight was a long time maintained; neither were they to have quitted the guard of the baggage and horse which was their charge had it not been to have assisted their Companions; an act only to be expected from experienced Soldiers, who well versed in their occupation, and fit to command knew, how to serve unanimously and to purpose uncommanded. We must then believe the number of the dead specified by the English to be 9700. to be the true number; the chief, whereof were the counts of Omale, Tonnare, Ventadoure, and the Viscount of Narbon; together with a great number of the nobility, whose catalogue is diversely set down by Monstrelette and Belleforest of Prisoners; the Duke D'Alansonne, the Bastard of Alansonne, the Marishall Fajette, Gaucourt, Puis and many others of name: together with 200. Gentlemen and some Soldiers; the body of the Viscount of Narbonne being found amongst the dead, was cut in quarters, and the quarters hung up upon Gallows; for they used him being dead as they would have done, had he been alive, for that he was one of those who murdered john Duke of Burgony; The chief of the Scots that died, were Archibald, Earl Douglasse, who together with his life lost, the Duchy of Furaine, for his Son, the Earl of Wintonne, died with him; and the Earl Bowhan Constable of France, who (as some write) enjoyed, not that charge above 100 hours, together with these there died 9 Knights 2700. Gentlemen of quality. The Duke of Bedford was this day abandonned by many Norman Cavaliers just as the Battles joined, who fled over to the contrary party, to whom they adjudged the victory by reason of the inequality of the numbers; some of which falling afterwards into his hands suffered condign punishment; and the rest lost what of command they held under him. But S. Rails diligence did much comfort Charles his misfortune; for had he not taken care to assemble together such as were escaped, he had been wholly destitute of Soldiers. Steven de Vignolus called la Hire did the like, for considering in what condition his King was without Soldiers, Commanders, and Princes of the blood (all of them, being all most Prisoners to the English) He quitted Vitres and other places in Champagnia to join his troops with the others. Charles had not any time before been in a worse condition, Monsieur de Rombarres deputed to the custody of Vernuille with 3000. men (as hath been said) yielded it up two days after coming all of them out of the Town, their Lives, Arms, Baggage, and Horses saved. He likewise was of some comfort to the common apparent ruin. The Duke of Bedford who after so happy success had withdrawn himself to Rouen, and from thence to Paris sent the Lord Scales with 2000 men, accompanied by Sr. john Montgomery, and Sr. john Falstaff to annoy Anjou and maine where though a number of Castles yielded unto them; yet this seeming but a small affair (the neighbourhood of these two Provinces being dangerous for the safety of Normandy, and requiring greater effects) the Earl of Salisbury with 10000 fight men went to besiege Man's; the Metropolitan of Maine, battering it in such a sort, as throwing to the ground, the Houses, Walls, and Toures thereof: He won it to his obedience, and giving the command thereof to the Earl of Suffolk, and the Lieutenancy to Falstaff he passed forward to S. Susanna defended by Ambrogius de Lore, assaying it on that side, which he thought fittest for assault, but having got no good thereby, (the Walls being manifully defended) He bethought himself, how to have it without so much blood. He played upon it with his Ordnance two whole days together, so as having laid flat its, defences and reduced it to such a point as that it was not able to endure any other assault, they were enforced to surrender, paying some certain moneys, and the Garrison coming forth only in their Doublets, their lives saved. From hence he went too before Fort Bernardo where being advertised by the Gascons of Alansons' Garrison, how they had made agreement with john de Villiers to sell unto him that place for 400. Crowns, he sent thither the Lord Willoughby and Falstaff with 2000 Soldiers who surprised the purchaser, whilst he thought to have made his entry with 200. Horse and 400. Foot, which he had brought to guard the place, they slew him, none of the rest escaping, save 25. thanks to their Horse's heels. The place which he besieged being then yielded up unto him, together with a many more he frighted France, which thought fortune too partially favourable unto him. At this time Edmund Mortimer Earl of March, formerly deprived of his liberty died at Trimmes in Ireland; whereupon his just and lawful pretences fell upon Richard Plantagenet, son to that Richard Earl of Cambridge, who by the commandment of Henry the fifth, was beheaded at Antona, we shall shortly hear news of his claim; unfortunate to him the King and kingdom, for though he turned England topsey turvy, he did not notwithstanding compass the government thereof; the which was reserved with better fortune for his son. This his death was accompanied by the death of john Mortimer his Cousin, who accused of treason to the scandal of all men suffered the punishment of the Law, his faults being believed to be calumnies, and himself brought to so ignominious an end for that alone, which by vulgar Politicians is called Reason of State. The same resolution which (as we have said) made the Duke of Gloucester marry jacoline of Baviers contrary to the Law, made him likewise resolve to take up Arms against him, who of all others was most requisite for the friendship of England; neither could he after the first error forbear committing of others, for he was enforced to recover for her, her possions enjoyed by the Duke of Brabant her legitimate husband; the which he now (pretending himself to be the like) must account his. Neither thought he that he should need any great forces, since Hannault which was to be the seat of the war was thought to favour him, for the people of the Country had always sided with their true and natural Princes, so as both of them embarking themselves at Dover with 5000. fight men conducted by the Earl Martial, they went to Calis. Duke Philip according to appointment formerly made with the Duke of Bedford was come for this cause to Paris, and after having friendly disputed it amongst themselves they framed an agreement to be accepted of by both parties, the Duke of Brabant did not refuse to accept thereof, but jacolina and Gloucester did, who said they might go to take possession of what was their own, without the interposition of others. A resolution which did inwardly wound the brother, who foresaw the evils that were to ensue thereupon, and did touch Philip to the quick, being interessed in these states and Princes by neighbourhood and pretensions; besides he thought Gloucester did too little value him, whilst the English ought rather to set an esteem on him then on any other. Neither did he forbear to say to Bedford that since his brother would not condescend to the agreement made between them two, he was not to be blamed if he should employ all the forces he had in the behalf of Brabant against Gloucester, to the which Bedford knew not what to reply, no reason being to be given for his actions, who not respecting friendship, equity, nor public interest is resolved to pursue his own Caprichies. Gloucester passed through Artois into Hannault, where he and his wise jacolina were received with all expressions of obedience, all the Lords and Gentry of the Country coming into their service, except the Counts Conversan, Angebert and Anguiere, and john de jumont, who were the only men that with their Towns and Fortresses observed the oath they had formerly taken to the Duke of Brabant who growing more powerful by reason of the concourse of men from Artois and Flanders, (for Philip had made it be proclaimed that such as were obliged to wear Arms should go to his service) he began the war to the great incommodity of the Country, the which growing cooler towards their Princes would have showed some effects, had not not their places of chiefest importance been in the power of the English. Gloucester did not believe that Philip would have opposed him, but hearing of the Proclamations, and seeing the effects, he made his grievance known unto him by letters, which though in some sort modest, yet were they not void of injury, for he had let fall from his pen, that in his Proclamations there were many untruths; whereupon Philip replied that he had taken upon him the defence of his Cousin the Duke of Brabant, as by reason he was obliged; by accepting the Articles of that agreement which Gloucester refused to do; whilst both law and conscience required that the deciding of the question should be expected from Rome where the cause did yet depend, but that passing by these particulars as not belonging to him, he would answer only to that which reflected upon his honour. That therefore he would have him know, that in his Proclamations, he had given out nothing of untruth, and consequently willed him to recant his assertion, which if he would not do, he challenged him to single combat, either before the Emperor or the Duke of Bedford, who being his Brother was not to be refused for a judge. Gloster accepted the challenge appointing St. George's day for the time, and the place to be before the Duke of Bedford, if he would be the judge, otherwise before the Emperor. Those of Brabant this mean while who with their Auxiliaries made up a body of 40000. men, besieged Brame in Hannault, wherein was a Garrison of 200. English; after 8. days holding out, necessity drew them to capitulate; they were suffered to come forth with part of their Baggage, and the City was fined to pay a certain somme of money in ransom of their lives and goods; but whilst the English were ready to come forth, the common People entered tumultuously in at Sundry places, putting most of them to the sword, and together with them some of the Citizens; and not satisfied with blood, they sacked the City, and set it on fire, reducing it into ashes. The commands and entreaties of their leaders were of no avail, who had much ado to save the few English that were left; and because the tenet of the challenge was, that there should be a suspension of Arms to shun the effusion of so much blood (the quarrel being to be ended by the two Princes) no other hostility ensued at that time, save that Gloster being come to Brain thinking to have come time enough to have succoured it; there was much appearance of coming to blows; for those of Brabant apprehending this arrival put themselves in battle Array, and a battle had certainly ensued, had not the greatest number, of the common sort run away; leaving their weapons in the highways; so as the Count Sr. Paul and other commanders were much perplexed, being exposed to the mercy of the enemy; but the Duke finding that Brain was taken and burnt, so as there was no remedy, and not knowing any thing of the other disorders thought no further on it, they all retired; they to Bruxzels and he to Mons, from whence he went to England, to provide all things requisite for the Duel. He much against his will left behind him; his pretended Wife, won by the entreaties of her Mother and Subjects, all of them swearing (the City of Mons in particular wherein she remained) to defend her against whosoever should annoy her, the which they did not make good: for he had no sooner turned his back, but Hannault being set upon, Mons yielded to Brabant, and the Princess was delivered over into the hands of Philip, by whom being sent to Gaunt with appearing respect, but in effect a Prisoner; she bethought herself how to makean escape by the secret assistance of her Subjects, clothed in man's apparel she got to Zealand, and having received 5000. men from the Duke of Gloster, she entered Holland, where being fought withal and beaten, she lost 3000. this mean while the business being decided in Rome, and the first marriage declared legitimate, the other void; Gloster did wholly abandon her, so as finding herself single against so powerful enemies, she was enforced to give way to fortune, and to yield Hannault to her Husband (from whom she was for ever separated) together with Holland and the rest, under the Tittle of Government: she obliged herself to Burgony not to marry again without his consent as long as Brabant lived; but being herein as in all other things inconstant, and having secretly married the Lieutenant of Zealand (a marriage misbecoming her quality) she so highly offended Philip, as having detained her Husband, to free him, she was enforced to new conditions, and about the 36. year of her age, being deprived of her possessions died for mere grief, this was her end. Her marriage with Gloster was unluckily to them both, she thereby lost all she had; and he was thereby the cause, not so much of the loss of France to the English, as of the increase of the Duke of Burgundyes power in the Low-countries; Philip after his Father's death, came to the Government of Burgundy, Artois, and Flanders; few years after by the death of two Brothers john and Philip, he came to the Dukedoms of Brabant and Limburgh; by the death of jacholina to the Earldoms of Haunault, Holland, and Zealand, and to the Seignory of Friesland: He by Arms won the Dukedom of Luxenburg from those who descended from the Emperor Sigismond, and purchased the Dukedom of Namures, so as if he had continued in his enmity to Charles, and friendship with Henry, he was likely to have been the destruction of the one, and the establishment of the other. But human affections the more subject they are to passion, the more prone are they to change, they made him friend unto his enemy, and a bitter enemy unto his friend. Natural hatred prevailing more than casual; especially when believing ourselves to be the benefactors and obligers: We do not think ourselves to be sufficiently recompensed according to our own deserts. The Duel between the two Princes was this mean while by the Duke of Bedford and his council annulled, whilst the Duke of Gloster having received advice of the invalidity of his marriage, married Elinor daughter to the Lord Cobham, a Lady formerly loved and known by him, this match caused more scandal than did his former, and proved much more infortunate to him. The defeat of Vernuille with the loss of so many Lords and 1425. chief Commanders, as it had much endangered Charles, so were the difficulties of making new provisals wonderfully great. His ruin was certain and sudden, the remedies thereof subject to the length of time, the loss of the constable did most of all incommodiate him; a new one was of necessity to be chosen, but as there were many, that did pretend thereunto; so was there none that was fit for the employment. The present occasion required not only an expert warrior, but such a one as should be of power and should have followers out of France, conditions which were not found in any of his subjects: and for this reason was the late Earl Bowhan chosen, as he who if need should require, was not likely to fail in new forces from Scotland. After long consultation, he pitched upon Count de Richmonde, the causes moving him thereunto were, that he had been brought up in the Wars from his Childhood, and upon all occasions showed himself to be valiant, so as he was rightly ranked in the number of the chief warriors of that age, that at all times he had showed himself to lie more toward the French then the English; that the Nobility of France were not likely to deny him obedience being so great a Prince, that together with the Nobility of France, he would be followed by that of Brittany; that, if he could not so far prevail with the Duke his Brother, as to make him declare himself for the French, he might at least divert him from the English, and free France of the jealousies, they had of him, that the like was to be hoped from Philip Duke of Burgundy; for being no less his friend then Parent, there was none more fitter than he to sow the seeds of that reconciliation, from which was to be expected the expulsion of the English, the peace of France and his own establishment: but as he did wisely resolve upon, so did he inconsiderately begin this business, for this not being to be treated of without the Duke's consent; He sent unto him Monsieur D'Omale, and together with him john Louvet Precedent of Provence, who was by him hated to death, as being one of those that had advised his imprisonment; so as having given him a cool audience, he roundly answered, that if his brother would he might accept the offer, but not by his consent; and likely he was to have treated him ill favouredly, had it not been in respect to him that sent him; the which being by Charles conceived, he entreated the Queen of Sicily to go herself in person to him, giving her for an Assistant Tannigues d' Chausteau; who being better received, then were the former Ambassadors, the business was referred to the Council. The Duke had no reason to trust the King, knowing that his delay would make him equally enemy to the English and to Philip, which could not but oppugn his interests. For though he had broken the confederacy at Amiens, that he might accord with him, yet was he not at enmity with them nor linked to him, save only that he might remain a Neuterall: the troubles caused unto him by Charles, and Charles his father in times past kept him in perpetual suspicion, neither did he look for any better were Charles in prosperous condition, for the Kings of France have always sought how to molest the Dukes of Britanny in their prerogative and sovereignty, choosing them for brethren in their miseries, that they might partake with them therein, and never owning them in their prosperity, unless it were to ensnare them; never reasonable nor just, but in adversity and need, besides he had not forgot, that at the taking of Chantonceaux he had met with some of his letters (though he denied them) wherein he assured the two brothers of Pointevers of his protection, when under pretence of feasting him, they invited him to their house; and afterwards kept him many month's prisoner in Irons, so as such a friendship could not be esteemed advantageous. In effect it had made for him that France had been perpetually agitated, for being respected by both sides (each of them needing his friendship) he remained safe and free, whilst wanting leisure to work his ruin, they ruinated one another, but that which most of all perplexed him, was the new affinity between his brother and Philip, which did not permit him to resolve on any thing that might displease him. 'Twas notwithstanding concluded that the Count should go himself to treat thereof, upon condition that his return might be secured by equivolent Hostages, and that Philip should be therewithal contented; to whom Ambassadors were forth with scent, who brought back his consent upon certain conditions. And Charles having put into the Count's custody (besides the four towns, Lusignan, Chinon, Loches and Meung) William Albret and the bastard of Orleans to be Hostages in Brittany, went to Angiers; where the Count accompanied by many of the Nobility met him, for what belonged unto the charge offered unto him, he at the first did with much modedesty excuse himself, alleging his unexperience in the affairs of France; afterwards he seemed willing to accept thereof, if his brother and the Dukes of Burgundy and Savoy were contented. Anedens the eighth (the first that bore this title) was Duke of Savoy. His interests with the Duke of Burgony were the friendship contracted between them by reason of their ancient jealousy of the greatness of France after that Dolpheny was united to France and their near affinity. Amedens his wife, who was daughter to Philip the fair, being Aunt to john father to the present Philip surnamed the good, the Count having with this resolution taken his leave returned to Brittany, and having surrendered up the Towns and Hostages went with his brother's approbation to speak with the aforesaid Dukes, from whom he obtained their desired assent. At Chinon he received the sword from Charles according as the custom is, upon condition that the Bishop of Clerimont, the Precedent of Province, the Bastard of Orleans, his son in law William d' Avogour and some others who had a hand in the Duke of Britanies imprisonment should be banished the Court. Tannignes de Chasteau whom Philip believed to have given the death's wound to his father, was of the number of the banished. Charles was hardly brought to this, for he valued this faithful and valiant gentleman as his Father, and although he promised all this, yet would he not have observed it, neither in those nor this, had not necessity enforced him. For having given order to the new Constable to raise forces in Brittany, and having sent to Savoy to the same effect, he was absolutely denied by those Princes for that he had not observed what he had promised. Whereupon Tannignes more respecting his master's necessity then himself, advised him not to love the favour of such Princes, and service of great men by keeping with him contrary to his promise people of so small consideration as were he and the rest. And though the aforesaid Princes believed amiss, (at least for what concerned himself for 'twas not he that slew the Duke of Burgundy) yet the mischief would fall upon him, that as times should alter; He might recall them, whilst for the present, he was to preserve the good will of his Parents, and of such whose service might be useful to him. He only desired him, that being grown old in his service, he would take such order, as that he might not perish for want of food, wherein Charles did not only satisfy him, but suffering him much against his will to depart: He assured him, that as long as he lived, he would account him as his Father. He gave unto him Beauciere for his place of abode, together with the Government and emolument thereof; 15. Archers well paid for his Guard, pensions well assigned, and confirmed unto him the office of Provost of Paris, the which though in the enemy's hands was of reputation and profit unto him. The Precedent of Provence did not willingly withdraw himself as did Tannignes, but much against his will into Province leaving two Daughters very well matched the one to Monsieur de joyense, the other to the Bastard of Orleans, who went along with him, and afterwards forsaking him returned to Court; and though he had formerly been hated by the Constable, was afterwards favoured by him, by reason of his Valour, who shall consider what we have related in this present affair will think it far from likelihood of truth, for Charles intending to advantage his party against Philip by making Richmond Constable who would not accept of it without Philip's consent; Philip did ill in consenting thereunto, and worse in agreeing, that Savoy and Brittany should furnish him with soldiers, receiving no other satisfaction for it, but Tannignes' banishment from Court; but one of 3. things in my opinion caused him to do it; either that being distasted by the English, he was not well pleased with their advancements; or that having his thoughts bend upon Iacholina's territories (where it behoved him to attend) and Charles being in bad case by reason of his loss at Vernuille; He resolved to give him a breathing time, to the end he might not be made a prey by the English and he have no share therein, or else that he did it to lead the way to that reconciliation which ensued shortly after, and that the Constable had already begun to treat with him, which is the most likely, but if it were none of these we must say that the actions of Princes are like the works of nature which are seen but not known. The first advantage Charles reaped hereby was the alienating the Duke of Brittany from England. To this end he sent unto him Mussieurs 1426. de Treves and de Lusa, entreating him that since he had banished those whom he had reputed his enemies. He would as a Parent and kinsman assist him with men against the English, who advanced every day more and more to the ruin of the Kingdom. This Embassy being consulted upon and oppugned, he resolved against the opinion of the major party to succour him; believing that the mischief he had suffered was occasioned rather by those Councillors which governed him, then by Charles, so as desirous to speak with him mouth to mouth, before any resolution should be taken, they met at Lanmeurs, where they tarried some days, and departed the one and the other infinitely satisfied. The Duke at his return raised a good body of Soldiers and gave them to his brother, who joined with the French Troops; whilst the Earl of Warwick besieged Pontersoune and enforced it, if not succoured by such a day (which it was not) to surrender. He placed there a Garrison, which not ceasing to make inroads into Britanny caused the Constable to march thither. He besieged it, forced it, slew all the English and demolished it, from thence he came to S. jaques de Beveron, a place of no great circuit, a little before fortified by the English; but fortune did not smile upon him here, as it did in the former exploit, for the besieged not only defending themselves against the besiegers violence, but offending them by perpetual sallies, and skirmishes did abate their first furies: to which may be added the Soldiers want of pay, which should have been administered by Mounsieur de jae, who enjoyed what of favour and authority the Precedent of Provence held under Charles, so as the Constable's protestations of not being able without pay to hold the Soldiers together, either being not listened unto, or not regarded; he resolved to try his fortune by a general assault before the Army should disbaind; which according to the French calculation consisted of 20000. according to the English of 40000. and because he knew that the Earl of Suffolk and Lord Scales were in a neighbouring town, he sent 2000 men, to the end that they might be impeached if they came to succour the town; but these men having gone a good way, not descrying any enemy as indeed there was none (for Suffolk had had no notice of this the Constables last resolution) they returned back with flying colours, and in Battle array, when these who were scaling the Walls believing them to be enemies, tumbled down from the Ladders, following those who at the foot of the Wall, out of the same belief threw away their Arms and fled to save themselves. The defendants who were of the same belief sallied forth at two several places towards the River side, and charging them home forced them to throw themselves into the water, where according to the French Authors, between 6. and 700. men were slain; but according to the English, what by water, what by sword above 4000 forsaking their Tents, Artillery and all manner of provisions; and the Constable being abandoned by the French, who in great disorder and without leave taking, returned to their own homes, retired to Britanny, more worthy to be commiserated then blamed. The English Court, the town of London, and the whole kingdom was at this time full of troubles by reason of the contention sprung between the Duke of Gloucester and his Uncle the Bishop of Winchester. Alterations not to be wondered at, for as thunder proceeds rain, and the conjunction of two dismal Planets the malignity of their influence, so were not Henry's misfortunes to fall out without the precedency of many disorders, which though (severally considered) were of no great moment, yet being joined were such as caused his ruin: the distemperatures of a state being like to those of human bodies which if languishing are almost always mortal the natures of these two contenders were hard to be reconciled, the one would be obeyed the other could not brook command: the Bishop pretended that since the Government of the King appertained to him, the Duke had no reason to insinuate himself thereunto, though he were nearer of blood and of greater authority, but whether this or aught else were the cause of their hatred, 'tis most certain the Bishop's pride and ambition was most hateful. His mighty mass of riches procured him not only hatred but envy likewise; an evil which as it caused one part of the Nobility to wish him well, so wrought it a contrary effect in the rest, which drawn either by the condition of his birth, as of blood royal; by the reverence of his calling as of Bishop, by the spendor of his attendants, as being served by none but selected men, and by the fullness of his tables which exceeded all others) did adhere unto him, so as the City being thus divided, the chief Magistrate who had the care thereof, was constrained to keep a great guard therein day and night, the shops were all shut up, hourly fearing lest some contention arising amongst the partakers, they should fall to pillage, which was the only end of the poorest sort of people, which were the aptest to do mischief. The Bishop failed not to justify his cause to the Duke of Bedford, writing unto him, that if he did not immediately come to England his brother would be the cause of much mischief which he prayed God to withstand; he entreated him to make haste, for that the affair in France could not prosper if those of England did amiss, this news made a great impression in the Duke, so as deputing the Earl of Warwick, who was but a little before come thither with 6000. men; His Lieutenant in the Regency of France, he went together with his Wife to England; and came to Lancaster where the Parliament was at that time called. The first action he did was to blame such Lords as had sided in this difference (not naming his Brother or Uncle to whom his discourse tended,) who drawn by their venom had stirred up the People to the danger of the King and Kingdom, and utter subversion of the affairs in France, he exhorted them to lay aside their passions, and take to them more moderate and civil thoughts. Gloster did not forbear for all this to present in full Parliament, his complaints against the Bishop. First, that Richard Woodville Lieutenant of the Tower had by the Bishop's instigation denied him entrance. Secondly, that he was resolved to lay hands upon the King, and carry him from Eltham to Windsor without the King's consent, or consent of the Council. Thirdly, that when as he had resolved to hinder him herein; He had caused the Bridge to be shut up upon him, caused the chains to be drawn, and placed men armed with bows, arrows, and all other manner of weapons in the chambers, windows, and corners near about to hinder his passage, and to kill him, and as many as were with him. Fourthly, that he had been told by Henry the fifth, as he lay asleep in the great chamber at Westminster in his Father's time, by the barking of a Dog, a certain man was discovered behind the hangings, who being questioned by the Earl of Arundel, said, that he was placed there by directions from the Bishop of Winchester to kill the Prince in his bed, and that being removed from thence, he was immediately drowned in the Thames. Fifthly, that he had told him likewise, that his Father in his latter times being troubled with grievous indispositions, the Bishop should say unto him, that since he was no longer fit for governmrnt, he should do well to transfer both the government and Crown upon him. The Parliament was not easily brought to believe the circumstances of this accusation, especially when the Bishop gave in his answer; To the first he said, that before the Duke of Gloster went to Hannault, he and the council good reasons moving them thereunto had ordered, that the Tower of London for the time to come should be victualled and munitioned as other forts use to be. That after his being gone to Hannault, the City being in apparent danger, threatened by libels and seditious speeches, particularly against strangers (the greatest part whereof were for this cause fled) the council fearing a rebellion had appointed Richard Woodville to be Lieutenant of the Tower (who to boot with the great affiance the deceased King had in him was Chamberlain and Councillor to the Duke of Bedford) with directions, that during this his charge, he should not suffer any one whosoever to enter therein that was stronger than himself, without particular commandment from the King or order to be given by the Council: that the Duke at his return disliking this order would break it; He pretended to enter and inhabit there being offended, that Woodville denied him entrance, and that the Bishop had advised him so to do, the which he did not deny; his reason being that the Duke desiring Richard Scot Lieutenant of the Tower to deliver up into his custody one Randall a Friar convict of treason against the late King, and who had been some years' Prisoner; Richard not able to deliver him without order from the Council, nor to refuse his delivery without offending the Duke, desired him to send him such a command as might serve for his discharge, the which the Duke denied to do; saying his commandment might serve for a sufficient discharge: so as the Bishop seeing him so far exceed the limits of his authority, and not knowing where it would end, could not choose but give Richard this advice, so much the more, for that after his return from Hannault, he had not forborn to allure some of the People, saying, that if they had been ill dealt withal in his absence (as he understood they had) they should be so no more now that he was present: and that as for the Tower, which was reinforced to keep them in awe (as who should say, they were not loyal) He would find a remedy for that, if they so pleased. To the second, that he never had any intention to lay hands upon the King, much less to take him from where he was, to govern him otherwise then, till than he had been, unless it were by the resolution of the Council; that such a thought could no ways avail him, but rather prove harmful and dangerous to him, the which he offered to make good in time and place convenient. To the third, that he denied not to have done as much as was alleged, but not to the end as was objected, that he had been certainly informed ever since the last Parliament at Winchester of the great ill will the Duke bore him; which made him resolve not to be there, to shun the evils wherewithal he was threatened, that evident signs were seen of this, that certain people of base condition being assembled together on the Thames side, where boats use to land, were heard to say, that if they should meet with the Bishop in that place, they would throw him into the River; and that the Sunday before All-Saints day, the Duke being demanded by the Council, concerning his ill will to the Bishop, he said it is true, and that it might be his reasons should be seen one day in writing, that the next Monday by the Duke's commandment (no reason being given for it) the Citizens were all night in Arms, saying injurious things against the Bishop; that commandment was likewise given to the Courtiers to be with the Duke by 8. in the morning armed, that on Tuesday he gave directions to the Major and Aldermen to send unto him 300. Horsemen to wait upon him, whither he was to go, which was (as it was said) to remove away the King without the Counsels knowledge, all which being manifest signs of this the Bishop's danger, he resolved to prevent him, as it is lawful for every one to defend himself, so as if he had fortified the Bridge to the end it might not be forced, it was not done with any intention of damnifying the Duke or any others, but to keep himself from being damnified, since he was not the assailant but the defendant. To the fourth and fifth, that he had been true and loyal to all Kings, which if he had not been Henry the fifth, a wise King would not have trusted him so much as he did. He offered to prove this; the proof to be such, as is wont to be granted to persons of his state and condition; that herein he humbly entreated the Duke of Bedford and all the lords spiritual and temporal of that Parliament, since they were the lawful Judges for the administration of justice, especially in this case, and because the aforesaid letter written to the Duke of Bedford suffered a sinister interpretation, he interpreted it according to its natural sense, the end for which it was written, not admitting of any other. If this business had happened between private men, or that it had been judgeable where Lextalionis is practised, it would not have been so easily ended; but being between two great Lords almost equal in authority blood, and followers, and where he who lays treason to another's charge, though calumniously undergoes no punishment, but the hazard of single Duel, the remedy was easy, the condition of the times, the necessity of peace at home, and the evils which by doing otherwise were likely to ensue, being considered, for the cure of a Fistula differs from the cure of a wound, the one as soon as cut, must be suddenly closed, the other being newly made must be kept open to the end it may purge. But there was no probability in this accusation, the 3. first articles though they had some show, yet was there no proof of them, and that appearance wiped away by a more solid recremination; the fourth and fifth not to be spoken of, since the dead are not called to witness, nor cited before Earthly Tribunals, they were alleged only to make the party accused ill thought of, not that there was any reason to condemn him for them. Moreover it is not likely, that in England where the accusation witnesses, defence and judgement are all made in public and in face of the Court, an accessary should be privately drowned by night, the King not being advertised thereof, the party not delivered up into the hands of justice, nor confronted with his accuser: whilst the Prince who could not love the Bishop, seeing the ill will he bore him had so large a field to revenge himself in by justice, not being withstood either by any interest of fear, or want of proof, the case being clear, the guilty convinced, the fault inexcusable treason in the highest degree; The order which was taken in this business was to swear all the Lords as well Ecclesiastical as Temporal, to proceed therein without passion and with secrecy, it was by them put over to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Dukes of Exeter and Norfolk, the Bishops of Durham, Worcester, and Bath, the Earl of Stafford, the Lo. Privy Seal and the Lo. Cromwell, who after having made them promise to stand to their judgements as well themselves as their adherents; Gloucester in the word of a Prince and son of a King, and the Bishop in the bare word of a Priest, they framed certain words which they were to speak one to another, causing them, (the King being present) to come to the Parliament. The Bishop (seeming much grieved at the scandalous speeches laid to his charge) pressed much either to be declared innocent, of what he stood accused concerning the two last Kings (since he was not, nor could not be convinst thereof) or else that he might be permitted to justify himself, and being gone out of the house, to allow them time to consider, he was shortly after called in again, and Bedford in name of the whole house said unto him, that upon the examination of his request, the King and all the Lords declared him to be an honest man, and faithful to both the Kings, which declaration was ordered to be registered amongst the Acts of Parliament, then saying the conceived words one to another, and having shaken hands, the business was ended, and they pacified. The King was willing to witness his gladness of this accord, by solemn mirths and Court solemnities, he created Richard Plantagenet, son to the Earl of Cambridge, beheaded at Antona, Duke of York. This title ceased in this family, through the death of Edward Plantagenet, slain in the battle of Aiencourt, elder brother to the forenamed Earl of Cambride, and not to be ransomed by this Richard his nephew, and next heir, without his being restored in blood as now he was, this was he who afterwards deposed the King, and who was the first cause of exturpating the house of Lancaster, having boldness enough to contest for the kingdom with him, and to lay claim thereunto in full Parliament, as we shall hereafter see in its due place; neither was he likely to have arrived at so immense a boldness had he not been promoted to this honour, and honoured by those high places of trust which by the King he afterwards was. But God governs things here below by means contrary to worldly reason, for whilst men foolishly believe that good turns make past offences be forgotten, examples show us that the correspondencies due to virtue and reason, ought not to be expected from men, but such as the interest of profit daily produceth profit is that alone which surpassing virtue or reason spurns at any other gratitude, the which though it ought not always to be supposed, 'tis notwithstanding a want in judgement to think otherwise in great offences; especially such as were these of this Richard; on whom no benefit being to be conferred, which was not inferior to the kingdom usurped from him, it was the chiefest of all others to chalk out unto him, the ways to the conquest thereof, and by conferring upon him honours, riches, and power, to endow him with an ability of doing what he did. An error whereunto the best of men are only subject, who expect not that from others which they themselves would not do, this creation was accompanied with another of john Mowbray, who being Earl Martial was made Duke of Norfolk, which title was unluckily enjoyed not above three years by his Father, who died in Venice, being banished for England the first year of Henry the fourth, this solemnity was concluded by the order of knighthood, which the Duke of Bedford gave into the King, accompanied by 35 great Lords, or some of great Families, and the liberal contribution, which by way of subsidy was given in Parliament in consideration of the war with France, no one City being exempt from the payments of moneys or raising of soldiers. At this time the Duke of Exeter died, a man of great wisdom, who having no sons made the King his heir, though besides the Bishop, his brother, and the Countess of Westmoreland his Sister, he had by her a great many Nephews. Richard Beauchamp Earl of Warwick, whom the Duke of Bedford had left his Lieutenant in France, was not this mean while faulty in what belonged unto his charge for entering the County of Maine, he took there many towns, and being returned to Paris met with this news of his, being chosen to the government of the King in place of the deceased Duke of Exeter, though he went not into England till a good while after, advancing in the mean while by his service in France his Kings, his kingdoms and his own reputation. Alansonnes liberty who was taken prisoner at the battle of Vernuille, was by the Duke of Burgundy's means, (Bedford being at London) procured; his ransom came to 200000. Crowns: Fair offers were made unto him if he he would forsake France and cleave unto England, in particular, much of what he was to pay was proffered to be remitted him, but no offer promised, nor benefit could sever him from his affections unto this King and Country. He sold unto the Duke of Britanny (not being otherwise able to pay so great a sum) the Barony of Fugures for 80000. pieces of gold called saluti, and 38000. which he was moreover to give him, for the which he pawned unto him the two Rubies of la quaglias and Estampes, and the two brothers, famous jewels in the house of Britanny, the which being repawned by him and the rest made good out of his own moneys he returned into France. The Duke of Bedford went thither likewise with a great many Soldiers, having taken requisite order for the affairs in England. He was waited upon to Calis by the Bishop of Winchester, I know not whether in respect or to receive the Cardinal's Cap which was sent to him from Rome; the new discensions councelling him perhaps to do so. This Prelate had coveted the being a Cardinal ever since Henry the fifth's time; but that King much misliking his ambition, forbid him to endeavour it; that rub being now out of the way, the present King a Child, and though Gloucester his enemy yet Bedford his friend, there was none that withstood him therein. He received therewithal the faculty and title of Legate, which added to his incombes, so as losing his former name, he was through all the kingdom styled the Rich Cardinal. The Count de Richmond this mean while endeavoured by his valour to repair the ill fortune he met withal at his entrance into the Constableship. In Anior he took La Methe upon conditions, and the Castle of Gollerande by assault. In Main Ramfort by composition, and Malicort by force, where he slew the English and hung up the French that defended it. On the other side Sir john Hothall an English knight passing between Man's and Alansonne with 20. Horse was set upon by a Captain called Monceau who had with him a troop of 120. fight men; the English lighted from off their Horses in the midst of the highway, where they were set upon, and where there was no help, but a resolution either to overcome or die, they so behaving themselves, as that killing many of them and putting the rest to flight, they took john Sorret prisoner, a British Gentleman, and returned safe to their Garrison; but the daily inroads that the Norman Garrison made into Brittanny made the Duke thereof, resolve to shut them up within their own limits, by fortifying Pontersonne. To this work together with the Constable came Messieurs de Castelbriand Beaumaneir, Lohac Castelghironne, Montalbon, Belforte, Charte, Rostrenan, Balliere, and others of Brittanny; the Constable of Scotland, john Onscart, Walter Brusacke, and other French Commanders; these coming by night to descry the English fortifications, they were pursued by such as were within, with danger of being but ill treated; but as soon as the Constable had fortified Pontersonne, he went from thence leaving Mounsieur de Rostrenan Captain thereof, and under him Mounsieur de Belfort, john Veyer and Ouscourt, who doing as they had been done by, did by incursions pass on to Auranches, doing all the mischief they could; but those of the Garrison not enduring to be braved underneath their walls, sallied forth, and had likely to have retired with loss, had not 400. English led by Mounsieur de Novestres come unexpectedly to their aid, who charging Rostrenon took him prisoner, and together with him 140. others, not above two being left dead upon the field. This chance made the Duke of Britanny send Mussieurs de Castelbriand and Beaumaneir to command Pontersonne in Rostrenans place. I have described this action according to Argentres Hall, and the other English Historians, ascribe the glory only to the Garrison of Auranches, not mentioning Novestres nor any others that came into their succour. So as being almost always likely to meet with the like discordance, likelihood ought to open unto us the way to truth which by writers is with passion shut up, for no judge can enjoin us to believe one rather than another, unless the one relation be held Canonical the other Apocryphal. Pontersonne was a thorn in the Duke of Bedford's side, for it was a place whereby the enemy was much commodiated for the annoyance of Nor mandy, and his men hindered for doing the like to Britanny, so as resolving to quit himself thereof, he sent thither the Earl of Warwick accompanied by the Lord Scales and many others who laid siege unto it with 7000. men the first day of Lent. Belleforest and Argentres writes that the Duke of Britanny knowing it was not able to hold out would have it abandoned, that so together with the town he might not lose the people that were in it, that the French and Scots withdrew themselves from thence leaving only the Britan's there, who contrary to their Prince's command would defend it, but it is hard to be believed that the Duke having purposely sent his brother to fortify it, assisted by so many Lords, and the work of three nations, France, Scotland and Britanny, should afterwards repent it, as if no places were to be defended save such as are inexpugnable, and that to busy the enemy in a long siege as was this, subject to so many contingences, especially of being succoured either from Britanny, which was Contiguus with it, or from France, were a matter of no advantage; besides it is not probable but that he should have foreseen the enemy would assay it, it being a place so contrary to his designs; and much less that the British Garris on abandoned by the Scotch and French should dare to defend it, contrary to their Prince's command: but howsoever it was the Earl of Warwick besieging it, and those within valiantly behaving themselves, as well by defending it, as making often sallies, the siege was brought to that pass, as that the assailant wanting both meat and munition, and not having won one foot of ground, the Lord Scales was enforced to go his ways with 3000. men (Monstrelet says but 500) to provide for necessities for the Camp, accompanied by Sir john Harplay Bailiff of Constantine, Sir William Breerton Bailiff of Caen, Sir Ralph Tassonne, and Sir john Carbonall. The Duke of Britanny who had made a general Muster of all his Horse and Foot, and chosen out a part thereof under the command of Mounsieur de Castelgironne, Hanandaye and the Viscount of Belliers, leaving the rest, entertained a proposition made by the Baron of Coulonnis a Norman, to surprise the Lord Scales at his return, in a place which he knew fit for the purpose. He gave the charge thereof to the above named; who guided by Coulonnis made an Ambuscado of 6000. men (Monstrelet saith but 1500. in a place called lafoy Bassecourt, near unto a Bridge, between Pontersonne and the plain over against Monte Saint Michael, where the Lord Scales and his men were furiously set upon; this place as it was the more advantageous for the assailants, so was it the less proper for the assailed, who were beset on the one side by the enemy, on the other side by the sea, so as inanimated by necessity and danger, and despairing of all other hopes, than what they should by their Swords receive, they did in close files and on foot so well defend themselves, as that the Britons could never open them; but this their first heat being abated, and being withstood by an unexpected and stout encounter, they began to give back, and then to run away, being followed at full speed by their enemies, who were gotten again on Horseback, the number of those who were slain and taken prisoners was about 1100. amongst the dead were the Baron Coulonnis, theinciter to this enterprise, Messieurs de Castelgironne, and de Hananday, and amongst the prisoners the Viscount de Belliere, and many other Gentlemen. So as the Lord Scales loaded with victuals, munition, and prisoners, came with much honour and praise to the Campe. The Constable went afterwards to persuade the Duke his brother to succour the town, but could by no means work him thereunto, for his experience upon this occasion had proved unto, that to hazard a battle might be his ruin; for by losing it he should lose Dukedom, whereas the enemy was to lose nothing but men, so as Pontersonne being for three month's space well defended, and not succoured, surrendered itself in May, the Garrison marching forth with their Arms and baggage. Which as soon as the Duke of Bedford understood, he went from Rouen to enter Britanny with a powerful Army; and likely he was to have done good, had he not been persuaded to accept of the Duke of Britannies' offers: who being too weak to encounter with him, Pontersonne his chief hold being lost, his hopes but small of being succoured by Charles, he himself not knowing what to do, his Peers and People affrighted, having nor provisions, nor forces, no courage, but full of apprehension and danger; he was compelled to send unto him, that pardoning what was past he would be pleased to grant him peace. Bedford yielded thereunto unwillingly, and as some will have it by bad advice; but in my opinion very discreetly; if we consider the uncertainty of events. For the garrisons of Britanny (give the conquest granted) would require a great many people, not to be made use of elsewhere: Countries subdued are subject to infidelity, and chiefly Britanny which naturally ill inclined was to be thought subject to the least puff of alteration, so as joining it by this means unto himself, or if not so, cutting it off from the enemy. He might upon all occasions, like Poliphemus keep it for his last bit. Moreover he could not have desired more honourable nor more advantageous conditions. For the Duke obliged himself to renounce all former confederacies made with the Kings of France; to observe the treaty of peace between the two Kingdoms; and to do homage to King Henry (as soon as he should have crossed the Seas) in the self same manner as the Dukes his predecessors had done to the Kings of France, requiring but 3. months' space after requiry. The Bishops and Barons of Britanny; bound themselves to the observance of this treaty, together with the Duke's two Sons Francis and Richard, the Chapters, Cathedral Churches, Citizens and all those who amongst the meaner sort of gentry were of any name, so great was the fear, wherewith the one was enforced, the others surprised, foretold (as Argentres will have it) by a terrible earthquake which shook the whole Country of Nantes some few Months before. Small things and but of small importance were done during the siege of Pontersonne; Nicholas Hansonne one of the garrison of S. Susan plundered the Country of Anjou: He took Ramfort before the Captain thereof knew of his coming, he slew and took as many as he found there. A number of the French on the other side assembled to succour Pontersonne, went to regain Ramfort, they besieged it the space of 10. days, and Articles being made, that the defendants should come forth with their Arms; Horses and other provisions, they returned, abandoning their first designs. Messieures de Raise and Beumanoir took Malicorne and the Castle of jude in the Country of Maine, by assault treating them according to the Laws of places taken by force; they saved the lives of none save such by whom they might reap advantage; being gone from thence and Pontersonne surrendered, the above named Hanson surprised S. Lorance de Mortiers, the Captain thereof being gone to hear Mass in a neighbouring Church, and returning home, not knowing, that the Town was taken, he was ta'en prisoner, but those who followed him saved themselves. Falstaff the Governor of Anjou and Maine having almost at the same time taken the Castle of S. Oven by composition went to lay siege to Grieville, a place not to be taken by force, but wanting victuals they treated on a surrender, if they should not be succoured by such a day. Falstaff himself went to advertise the Regent thereof, who suddenly came into the field hoping to fight, if the French should come; but they appeared not, though not far off, being taught to be circumspect by the battle of Vernuille. Grieville which this mean time was victualled denied to make good their treaty, and the English not likely to reap any good by tarrying long there, raised the siege, hanging first in sight of the Castle their hostages their friends and fellow soldiers. The Regent at his return from England had given the charge of those men, which he then brought along with him, to the Lord john Talbot, who afterwards proved one of the most famous Captains in all the French wars. His name lives there yet amongst them, who never read his story: before that by his worth he achieved greater titles of honour, he was of most noble blood, Son to Richard Talbot Lord of Goderick Castle, who in his time had fought valiantly under Henry the fifth. Camden speaking of him calls him England's Achilles. His warlike humour cannot be better described, then by the Latin inscription on his sword, on the one side of which was read Sum Talbotty, on the other side, Per vincere inimicos meos. The Regent thought fit to confer upon him the Government of Anjou and Maine, fitting Falstaff with some other charge. The first thing he did after having received his command was the taking in of Lavat, wherein Monsieur de Loac and other People of account, being casually at that time, they bargained for the liberty of their Persons and goods, paying therefore 100000. Crowns, none of the least useful things in those times. The Regent this mean while being advertised that Montargis was not well provided for, sent thither the Earl of Suffolk. This place was not only oportune, but necessary for him, in respect of the nearness thereof to Paris, and for correspondency with Philip (which though it were some what lessened by mistrust, yet did it remain entire their reciprocal interest, making them appear outwardly friends, though their private distastes made them be inwardly otherwise) then because it opened unto him the way to the taking of Orleans, the winning whereof would be the total ruin of whatsoever Charles possessed. The Earl obeyed, accompanied by his Brother Sr. john Poole, and Sr. Henry Basset together with 6000. Soldiers, but finding the place well defended by good Soldiers and sufficiently victualled, though not for a long siege, he thought it rashness to undertake the taking of it at first by force, so as pitching his camp, he divided it into three parts, as the River Loinge upon which it stands, breaking out into certain branches and marshes enforced him to do; and to the end, that his quarters might have means of communication and succouring one another, he built bridges in the fittest places, hoping for want of victuals to make it yield: whilst the Earl of Warwick tarrying at S. Matelin d' Archamp, to withstand the succouring of the Town, trusted too much to himself, not believing succour could be brought by any other way than that where he was, whereas if he had made use of spies, necessary officers for a commander, he had not been deceived. I will allege two examples to this purpose, the which though in latter times and not appertaining to our history may notwithstanding always be of use. The great Captain Consalvo being by his own King brought back into Spain and pursued by such as envied him, was required to give an account of his disbursments in the conquest of the Kingdom of Naples; the first, Item of his accounts was, in Spies one Million, which when Ferdinand read he tore the leaf and would read no more. A great Prince who I forbear to name (though I could not name him, but with much honour) who was wont to defray his house with not above 20000. crowns spent 400000. crowns in Ambassadors, and spies, believing that ones own state cannot be secured without a perfect knowledge of that of others; the general's Judgement on which depends both good and bad resolutions, is best enlightened by such instructions as he by this means receaves, and therefore prodigality which is always harmful in a Prince is commendable if thus employed. Had Warwick been of this opinion, succour had not come unmet withal, and Montargis had not been saved. This siege lasted two Months, before that Charles could think how to raise it, the Court contending with the Kingdom in disorders: and as Monsieur de Giac had succeeded in the authority of precedent of Provence, so did he likewise in greediness and pride. Pride and avarice bereave men of their understanding, so as not profiting by the example of other men, they are not aware, that a singular favour without worth or merit, hath been and ever will be with Princes slippery and precipitius: and that to aspire without reason, and to grow rich whilst other men grow poor, besides that it is hateful, is of so perverse and obstinate a quality, that it brings men rather to death, than moderation. The Constable after the unfortunate siege of Beveronne was come to the King and complaining, that the detaining of the Soldiers pay was the cause of his loss, required, that Monsieur de Giac might give an account of those monies, which for this purpose was raised from the people. But Charles not minding this business, giving signs that he made more account of the Giac then of him; the Count was so highly incensed, as setting aside all respect, he caused the Giac to be taken by night from his Wife's side, to be carried elsewhere put into a Sack and drowned. Camus de Beaulier who succeeded in affairs with the like arrogance was not long after slain in the Kings own house, by a Soldier of the Marishall Bossac who thrust him through the throat with a dagger. The Constable could not brook neglect, especially from such people; but he was not therein to be praised, though he had sufficient cause to do so; Princes ought to be wrought upon by persuasion not violence, and who in any other manner seeks to pervert order or government, do rather aggravate than take away offences, since errors ought rather to be tolerated in Princes, than such violent remedies in subjects, as are rather to be termed revenge then justice.. The King was highly nettled at these outrageous insolences, so as being much displeased with him, he was the more confirmed in his ill will towards him, by the bad offices of Monsieur de Tremulle a former favourite of the Constables, and by him brought into favour with the King. The Court being thus turmoiled Montargis ready to be lost, the forces which were to be sent thither but weak, some will have it, that the Constable framed excuses to shun the employment, being possessed with fear by reason of his late bad success, and much more by the ill will, that Charles bore him. But Argentres says, he was at that time gone into Britanny, and it is to be believed could not well brook his sight. The charge of this succour was then generously undertaken by the Bastard of Orleans, who had along with him the best captains of all France, amongst which john Stuart a Scot, William D'Albret, Goucourt, Guitri, Greville, Villiers, lafoy Hire, Santreglie, Giles de S. Simon, and Walter Brossard, together with 1600. Soldiers, carriages, and victuals, the first thing he did was to advertise the besieged of his coming. The English say, he went thither by night, the French by day, the which if it were so, they should do well to show how he passed their Palisadoes and Trenches; for the English (by what we read of them) are not wont to suffer themselves be slain and to run away at so cheap terms, especially when they were more in number then the enemy, as likewise, that the fear of being stopped by the Earl of Warwick and losing of their provisions might have detained the French. For first, he was lodged not far from them, and then it is not likely, that he wanted Sentinels by day, and that the Horsemen did not their duties in fit places, who were there of purpose to withstand whosoever should venture to succour or victual the Fort If it were by night nothing was impossible. The besieged had so blocked up the Waters as that they overflood the Bridges and made them impassable; they charged the two nearest quarters which were Pools and Basset's, nor had they much trouble to enter them, for the enemies were all asleep, great was the slaughter they there made. Poole saved himself by swimming over the River on horseback; and Basset passed over the River likewise with 7. more in a little boat, others, in passing over a Bridge, which overburned with the weight of water; and those, who were upon it broke were drowned, so as 1500. were slain and drowned. This worthy observation that the French Authors, who in all their actions count more English, than the English do, in this alone count fewer, for whereas the English say, they were 6000. they will have them to have been but 3000. whilst there is no likelihood, that two great Lords as were Warwick and Suffolk should be sent with so few men, to besiege a place strongly situated, and likely to be succoured, if they shall say, they came with so few, because they thought to surprise it. I will allow it for good, if when they found the contrary, they had returned back, but making a formal siege for almost the space of 3. Months, they had been out of their wits, if their numbers all that while had not been augmented, so as it is not probable, that they set upon them by day, and that afterwards the English fled away favoured by the night (as they write) but rather (as the others say) that the two Earls the day being come presented battle, putting themselves in order before the Town Walls, but that they were refused to be fought withal, answer being made that they were victualled according to their design, which was as much as they cared for; the Dane was graciously received by Charles, as he well deserved; for though the action were done by night, yet was it according to reason of war; so as having done what a wise and valiant commander ought to have done, He would have been thought rash in doing otherwise. This happy success was followed by another of great consequence, had it met with the like fortune. The City of Man's was under the power of the English, but the Inhabitants were inclined to Charles, so as resolving to shake of their yoke, which not being natural is always unwillingly borne, the chiefest of them with the assistance of some of the clergy conspired to free themselves of it, they advertised the Court of this; Messieurs d'Albret, de Faiette Orval, Beaumanoir, lafoy Hair, and others were dispatched away thither with 500 Soldiers, a precise night was appointed for this deed, the sign was a little fire on the top of a hill, answered by another on the top of the steeple of the greatest Church, which were no sooner lighted then put out. The Inhabitants run to the Gate which opened upon their friends where the troops were ready, they slew the Gate-keeper and the Sentinel, they opened the Gates, the foot entered in, the Horse tarrying, that they might enter or keep where they were, as occasion should require, great was the hurly burly, and greater the slaughter, for they were all asleep, no man knew what the matter might be, the Citizens who were not acquainted with the plot, believing that the Garrison had pillaged some quarter of the City, kept within their own doors, such English as had not yet met with their enemy's sword, imagined either the matter as it was, or somewhat like unto it, or else, that there had been some dissension amongst the Citizens; The Earl of Suffolk Governor of the City and who after his return from Montargis was come to inhabit there, being advertised by some, who with much ado had escaped, that the enemy was within the Town, withdrew himself into the Castle, where all the rest that escaped being slain, did likewise save themselves, but the place being but little, the people many, and no victuals, and inevitable ruin threatened them by the mines the enemy made, they were likely in a short time to be reduced to great extremity; the nearest place of hope was Alansonne; they dispatched away a messenger who advertised the Lord Talbot of their condition, who went towards them the very same night with 700. fight men, & came by morning to Guerche, two leagues distant from Man's, from whence he sent away Matthew Gough to discover the enemy's condition, and to advertise his friends; this man took on his way upon the coming on of night, and got into the Castle by night, unseen or undiscovered. He told them of the Castle of their friend's arrival, and from the received advertisement of the enemy's carelessness, who thinking themselves free from all manner of danger, minded nothing but their pleasures expecting when the Castle which abounded in mouths, and wanted victuals should yield. He suddenly departed and met Talbot by the way, who making haste lest the day should overtake him, entered into the Castle by the field gate, and having rested himself a while, came down upon the City, meeting with no obstacle, the entry being free, open, no trenches, no barracadoes no impediment, no guard, the assailants crying Saint George and Talbot, they served as many as they met withal, as they had formerly done the English, for they caught them in the same manner; those who escaped fled away in their shirts, leaving their arms, weapons and what else they had behind them, the slaughter was not great, because but few made any defence, and none denied to surrender themselves, so as the number of the dead and prisoners did not exceed 400. the greatest matter was how to form process against the conspirators: 30. Citizens and 35. Priests and religious people were beheaded, and the City remained in its former condition; the question only was which of three things were most commendable in Talbot, his wisdom, his celerity, or his valour. This year the Earl of Warwick went into England to take up on him his charge of Governor of the King, and the Earl of Salisbury succeeded 1428. him in the charge he held in France, who went thither with 5000. Soldiers; many were the disputations which were held in Paris at his arrival concerning what enterprise was to be undertaken. He propounded that of Orleans, wherein he met with great oppositions, but if danger should stop great enterprises, none would ever be undertaken since they are all subject to uncertainty and danger; 'tis very true that this brave Commanders reputation was the sole thing which made the Regent resolve upon it, as if England's design which was not to make that war immortal, but to exclude Charles were not to be effected but by some such means; for the taking in of Orleans opened the way for the winning of Bourges, the place of his residency, which if they should get, trouble and time might go to the outing of him of all the rest, but not so many dangers. Moreover the taking of that town would not only be a curb to the river of Loire (in almost the midst of whose long course it is seated) but likewise to all the Towns situated uponit. The French writers accuse the Englishmen of treachery, because by undertaking that siege, they broke the agreement made with the Duke of Orleans, that no hostility should be committed against that City, nor the City of Blois, belonging both to his Parrimony, during his imprisonment. Whereupon they ground this I know not; for 'tis a childish thing to article with a prisoner that is an enemy, in what is advantageous to him, and the contrary to ones self, not being thereunto enforced neither by force nor reason; but say this were so, France is not so free from this fault as that she should be the first that should cry whore; I will only allege one agreement made, if that of Bertigny was ever observed, let England though innocent be condemned. The siege of Orleans being then resolved, the Earl of Salisbury went from Paris with requisite provisions, and 10000 fight men, accompanied by the Earl of Suffolk and Lord Talbot; and desiring to have the way free between Paris and that City, he took the Town of janville by assault, and five days after the Castle thereof by composition, causing some to be put to death there, as having forsaken the side they had formerly sworn unto. Bogeances having yielded itself, he caused Proclamation to be made, that all privileges and goods should be preserved unto such as would acknowledge Henry for their King. jerguo and Meung by reason of this offer, brought in their keys. He took Nogunt, Retrou, Puisset, Rochforte, Bertanwurt, Touri, Mompipeo, the Tower of Pleuviers and other places; he presented himself before Orleans, the 12. of September Charles had sent to the defence of this City, Mounsieur de Busacke, and Mounsieur de Faiette, both Marshals of France, the Bastard of Orleans (who commanded in chief during this siege) William Stuart Constable of Scotland, William Albret Lord d'Orvall, Mussieurs de Guicourt, Tovars Chavigni Greville, Chabannes, Ponton de St. Treigle, La Hire, Valperga an Italian, and Luis de Vancourt together with 1200. Soldiers, Luis of Bourbone Count Clerimont went thither likewise uncommanded. The inhabitants pulled down all the suburbs of the City, amongst which 12. Parish Churches, four Monasteries, places of pleasure, Gardens, Orchards, and whatsoever else could hinder the sight of the besieged, or be of service for the Besiegers; within the Town they spared not for any fortification or fence either to secure themselves from the besiegers, or whereby to be less exposed to their batteries, the Earl could not pitch his quarters unmolested with continual skirmishes, which was the Soldier's daily exercise for three weeks together; but without any remarkable effect; Fortune disdaining to show her countenance in things of so little moment; but the Bastard having made a sally forth by the gate of the Bridge, and being entertained with like bravery, he lost many of his men, and had many of them taken prisoners; He made head again at the great Tower upon the end of the bridge, from whence he was beaten back, leaving the English masters of the Tower, which was presently given into the custody of William Glasdale. This secured the Bridge, which was the safest way for victuals and succour. The Earl built many Forts round about, and especially over against the gates; so as the City being little less than girt about seemed to be in a desperate case, not able without difficulty to befurnished with victuals or reinforced with defendants, though the Citizens upon all occasions did voluntarily perform the duties of Soldiers; but this Tower a purchase so appearingly advantageous was the loss of Salisbury and the ruin of this and all other enterprises; for blows from heaven are like lightning, which wounds where it is not expected. The Tower had a bard window in the highest part thereof in the very face of the City, where the Captains went oft times to discover such places as were most subject to danger, and where the Earl of Salisbury accompanied by Sir Thomas Gargrave and William Glasdale came to look out. A Canoniere observing that many people used to appear at that window, levelled a piece of Canon against it, and going to dinner, left order with his son, that if he should see any one at that window he should give fire unto it, which just as the Earl came thither he did; the Bullet broke the Iron bars which gave upon the Earl's head, striking out one of his eyes, and bearing away one of his jaws, and wounded Gargrave so sorely, as that he died thereof two days after; at eight day's end the Earl died likewise, leaving one only daughter behind him; whose son showed himself (though to the public loss) to be descended from that gallant man; no death was ever more lamented. The Soldiers believing that in his loss, all was lost, as indeed it fell out; for the good fortune of the English declined from that time forward, even to their being wholly driven out of France. The Duke of Bedford who was mainly sensible of this news, deputed the Earl of Suffolk in his place, and made the Lord Scales and Lord Talbot and Sir john Falstaff, chief under him in that Camp; they did what they could, not to lose the enterprise together with their General, but their worth could not withstand the change of Fortune. The first day of the year they essayed to scale the Bulwark before 1429. the gate Saint Renard, which being stoutly defended, they retired; the second day the City was succoured with some small provisions brought by the Admiral Gallant, who waded through the Loire, in a season which being extraordinarily dry, though in the midst of winter suffered them to pass and repass without danger, and in his return meeting with some troops that went a freebooting, he set upon them, defeated them, and retired safely. The Camp stood in great need of Victuals, Artillery and munition; wheresore they sent Sir john Falstaff, Sir john Ramstone and Sir Philip Hall with some Forces to the Regent to convey some unto them; they were furnished with a great many Carts and Sumpters, the Regent adding to their small numbers Simon Mosier Provost of Paris, together with a part of the guard of that City, and some of his own Domestiques, which in all made up 1500. not counting those who waited on the Carriages; they marched in good order, not meeting with any obstacle, till being come to Rounray they might discover between 9 and 10000 of the enemy, the French say between 4. and 5000. Serres but 4000 led by the Duke of Bourbonne to succour Orleans, but as he was deceived in the person of the Conductor, taking the Father for the Son (for the Duke of Bourbonne was then prisoner in England) so was he deceived in the number; though I do not believe they were 9 or 10000 for so great a number would have been sufficient to have fought with the besiegers Campe. But were they more or less, they flew upon the English, as if assured of victory, for their Troops being assuredly great, and having nothing to hinder them, the enemy encumbered, fewer in number and weary with Marching, they believed them not only not fit to fight, but neither yet to put themselves in defence. The Scottishmen who were better acquainted with the English and knowing the effect of their arrows, knew how to be thereby least damnified advised to fight on foot, but they were not listened unto, so as every one following their own fancy much disorder ensued. Falstaff at the appearance of this cloud, was together with all his men lighted off horseback, and making one firm body of them, fenced them about with the carriages, and planted his wont stakes expecting to be set upon as he was; but businesses were so carried that after much shooting & many handy blows, the great number of the enemy vanished, some of them being slain, some retiring in good order, and some taken prisoners; the chief that were slain were the Constable of Scotland, and his Brother Mussieurs d' Orvall, Chasteau Brune, Montpipe Werdusan Duray, Grave, and some sixscore gentlemen more, part French, part Gascons, the rest almost all Scots: the English count 1100. prisoners; Dupleix but only one and he a Scotchman. Serres accuses Count Clerement (whom he formerly called the Duke of Brabant) of want of courage, for that frighted at this blow, he and his men went their ways abandoning the besieged, which Guitres, Gancourt, Greiville, Villiers La Hile, and S. Raigle did not, resolving all of them to see the end thereof under the Bastard of Orleans. The English came unto the Camp with their expected carriage, & with their unexpected prisoners & because the provisions which they brought consisted much of Herrings, it being Lent, the French entitle this encounter the Herring day. This defeat did much perplex the besieged for all their resolution of well defending themselves; for though generous hearts in adversity do not go less in courage, year they distempered by eminent dangers; for where courage pretends the two distinct offices of Captain and Soldiers, it pretends ruin; for wisdom ought only to regulate, she being the only lawful egger on, or withholder, of what ever generosity or fortitude, such qualities as were required in a good Soldier, were not wanting in the Bastard of Orleans, and the Inhabitants abounded in all such conditions as a Prince can desire in his people; in love to him, in hatred to their enemies, and in resolution amongst themselves, rather to suffer the worst of evils than suffer themselves to be governed by foreigners, yet we are neither Numantinians nor Saganthians. Christian religion forbids it us, but as we must die when one Humidum radical, or radical moisture fails, so the yielding unto others doth consequently follow the want of forces, and bad fortune. Charles was weak, his helps desperate, he wanted Soldiers, wanted Captains, a many whereof were slain in this battle; the City full of people, victuals grown scarce, and dangerous it was to expose themselves to the last of dangers; the defendants lives was not the only thing in question, but their wives, children, goods, and country to which ones duty is performed, when all is done that may be; the surplus is not generosity but impotency of mind repugning itself, for all this, they could never pitch upon the resolution of yielding themselves unto their enemy, though it were impossible for them to hold out many weeks, but no understanding is more speculative than that of Prisoners; These were no better, shut up in an expectation of speedy death or servitude; they bethought themselves to offer up the City, upon condition that it should be delivered into the hands of the Duke of Burgony; for if this offer were accepted of, they were to remain under the command of a Frenchman, a Prince of the blood, and though an enemy, not so of his own inclination but by passion, and this much abated of its first fervency, and if it should not be accepted of, it was likely by reason of the distaste this refusal would cause in him, to procure an alienation in that Duke from the English, as though not immediately, yet not long after it did; to this purpose Ambassadors were sent to the Regent with two propositions, the first that the town of Orleans might be held as a Neutral, alleging that it was no reason the jurisdictions of their Duke, now prisoner in England, should be molested contrary to the articles agreed upon between the Crown of England and him; the second, that if this might not be granted, that the town of Orleans might be assigned over into the hands of the Duke of Burgony, a friend and confederate of England, as upon these conditions it should be; to the former the Regent answered that the Duke of Orleans was not taken prisoner upon conditions, but in the battle of Agincourt, wherein there was no treaty, neither of life nor livelihood, that therefore that which they pretended unto was ridiculous and new, since his jurisdictions as those of an enemy, and as those which in all actions of enmity took part with Charles, were subject to the laws of War, and lawfully to be oppugned: To the second that England having undertaken this enterprise at a great charge, and with the loss of so many great commanders and Soldiers, no other body having contributed, hazarded or lost any thing therein, to require of them to invest a third party therewithal, defrauding themselves thereof was an unjust and anindiscreet request, and not to be granted; this negative displeased Philip, but if he herewithal incited his Councillors to anger (who pretended themselves to be treated withal like fools, since that they having framed the net by turning the kingdom of France upside down, others enjoyed the fruit thereof.) He did it against reason, for Philip would have done the same: Those who accuse Bedford of folly, that being able to have won Orleans he lost it, for not being willing to trust it in a friends hands, do judge by the event, after the which any man may be wise. A town abandoned by reason of the King's impotency, without victuals, without munition, which parleyed, which offered itself; a battle formerly lost against all rule or reason, and therein the loss of so many Captains and Soldiers: to make Philip more powerful, with whom for past distastes they were to proceed with more caution; to open unto him the way of making himself master of all such places as could not be made good; to make him Arbitror of France that he might dispose of it at his pleasure, after that he had intended his own ends, added so many Provinces to what formerly possessed by him, the English by waging war with Charles having diverted all his oppositions, without the which he could not have enlarged his territories, and at this present yield up Orleans unto him, was to make them be rather reputed weak then wise. I deny not but that he might have done better to have yielded it unto him, but am only thereunto drawn by the event contrary to the preceding appearances and foresight, wherein if a man err he is not to be blamed for it, but if it had been possible that a contrary event might have shown us, how Philip would have behaved himself having gotten Orleans, we would then perhaps be of another opinion; 'tis true that one only reason, and that a great one, contradicts what hath been formerly said. Bedford's wisdom ought to have been regulated according to that of the deceased King his brother, who by his last will having left the Regency of France to Philip if he would accept thereof, he was unjustly dealt withal to be now denied a Town, not coveted by him, but offered unto him as a surety, when he might have had the whole and would not, and this so much the more, for that his trusting of him in this, had been able to have sweetnedall past dislikes, and to have made him as formerly an entire friend. Thus all returned to their own former affairs; the Ambassadors to Orleans, the English to the continuation of their siege, wherein but very little was done; the Soldiers on both sides spared themselves; those within, that they might not lessen themselves being but few, and those without, hoping that time and hunger might effect that, which till then by all their machinations and assaults they could not do: but they were both deceived, though in a different manner: luckily the besieged, for the evil they expected and apprehended turned to good; unluckily the besiegers, for the confidence of that purchase was turned to the not looked for loss of that place & others. Charles was advised to retire himself, for the loss of Berry and Tourraine being granted if Orleans were lost, he might by tarrying undergo many dangers, especially the being besieged in some place or other; the which if it should happen, he should hazard, together with his liberty, the loss of that title which he yet was possessed of, the preservation whereof depended upon the preservation of his person. They counselled him to go into Dauphin, for from Grenoble a safe place, he might by the succours of the Count of Province King of Sicily his cousin, the Counts de Fois Armigniac and Cominges defend Lionois, Auvergnia and Languedoc: but such as were of a contrary opinion said, that to pass over the River Rhone, and abandon the Provinces situated on the other side, was the way to undo him; for if in the midst of so many dangers he should abandon his subjects, what could they do but abandon him? that to trust Fortune was to be his last resolution: Being thus in doubt what to do, he was succoured by one jane d' Arc, a means unexpected by him, nor foreseen by such as looked for new events; this woman's story is full of extravagancies and controverted not only between the two contrary parties, but between the French themselves. Of these two former the one affirms her to be a virgin, a Saint, sent by God to deliver that kingdom; the other gives her out to be unchaste, an heretic, a sorceress, a witch, and for such a one condemned; the third dissenting from the latter in the last Articles, do the like from the others in the former; for they believed her to be unchaste, and raised up by the craft of some great ones, who not able to cheer up men's cast-downe hearts by any arguments of worth, thought to raise them up by superstition, which prevails much in calamitous times. With these I side, finding no reason to make me believe the former, nor sufficient proof to make me admit of the second's opinion, all of them full of uncertainty and passion. I know, it is not lawful for us to examine the works of God, but it will be granted me, that it is not only lawful, but necessary to search out whether any humane action, reputed the handiwork of God, be so or no. She was borne in Lorraine, in the Parish of S. Rheims, her Parents peasants, her exercise was to feed sheep (Pasquiere says to spin and sow) her age, some say 18. some 20. some 22. (Pasquiere says 29.) her inclination (according to Du Pleix) pious, confirmed by the Hermitage of Madonna de Beaumond near the place where she dwelled, devoted (next to God Almighty) to the Virgin Mary, to the Angels Michael and Gabriel, and to S. Catherine and S. Margaret, who having oftentimes appeared to her, did reveal unto her that S. Charlemagne and S. Lewis had prayed to God in the behalf of her King Charles the seventh for the delivery of the City of Orleans, after the which the English should be overcome and beaten out of France; that the Duke of Orleans should shortly recover his liberty; that the Dolphin Charles should be crowned in Rheims, waited upon by her; that here upon putting on man's apparel, she should go to find out Charles, procuring a command of Men, Horses and Arms to fight in his service; that in the execution of these commissions she presented herself before Robert de Baudicourt Governor of Vaucolore, who though he did not at the first believe her, yet convinced by her constant asseverations, he made her (clad like a man) be conducted to Chinon, where the King then was, to whom the business seemed the less strange, for that he had been formerly foretold by another Virgin called Mary of Avignon, who was likewise versed in revelations, that he and his Kingdom after much calamity and affliction, should by the means of a Virgin be freed from the tyranny of strangers; that he caused her be brought into his chamber, where but meanly apparelled himself, he was conversing with Princes & great Lords richly attired, which she not esteeming, add rest herself immediately to Charles, representing unto him with much confidence, for what causes God had sent unto him; that being examined by certain divines touching her faith, revelations, life, and causes of her journey, she did satisfy them with such simplicity, modesty, and resolution, as that they esteemed her sent from God for actions of great importance; that being searched by divers Midwives in the presence of the Queen, the Queen of Sicily, and other Ladies, they found her to be a Virgin, whereupon she was afterwards called the Virgin or Maid of Orleans; that she much desired to have a sword which was found in the Church of S. Catherine de Forbois in Touraine, buried with the ashes of a Knight behind the Altar, the which being marked with three Crosses and rusty, the rust fell all forthwith off, no means or art being used; that a Horseman meeting with her and understanding that she was the Maid of Orleans, accompanied his lewd thoughts with some fowl words and blasphemous speeches, whereupon she said, O miserable man that thou art, who art at death's door, and dost blaspheme God; that within one hour after he being in a River, fell off his Horse and was drowned; so as by so many signs of the grace of God as shined in her, resolution was taken to give her men and victualls to relieve Orleans under the conduct of Mussieurs de Rieux, Marishall de Cullant Admiral of France, the King having given her Horse and Arms for her own Person, and deputing for her guard one Dolon an ancient Knight, one of his Councillors, and Sheriff of Beaucaire. This relation is made by Du Pleix a modern Writer, who complains of his not being therein believed, as if it were as much to be believed as an Article of faith. He agrees in many things with them that are of his opinion, in some things he says more than they; as the miracle of the Horsman, and the cleansing the sword without art, to the which he ascribes the mark of three Crosses, but they three flower deluces on both sides: likewise they say not, that it was buried with a Knight, but hung up with other rusty swords and prison Irons, which by devotion or vow were found in that Church. Giles and Belleforest write, that Baudicourt was not well satisfied for what concerned her till the hearing day, at which very time she told him that France had received a great defeat, and that it would receive many more, if he would not take order for the conveying of her unto the King; so as hearing that that loss had happened the very day she had foretold it him, he thought he should offend God, and do dis-service to the King should he not send her, and therefore dispatched her away suddenly; that she said some things to the King which were never by him reto;d to any, but that laying aside all melancholy, he seemed ever after to be exceeding joyful, that when she demanded the aforesaid sword of him, he asked her how she came to the knowledge thereof, and whether she had ever been in that Church, or no; to the which she answered, No, but that she knew it by divine revelation, and that there withal she was to drive out all his enemies, and to lead him into Rheims to be anointed and consecrated; and to strengthen their testimony they produce Mieres a Flemish Author; who, though he be accused of falsehood and partiality against the French, they will yet have him in this to be on their side, and to say the truth; but 'tis a strange thing, that the English differ not in this, and the French do. Vasseburg, Paradine, and Hallian, write diversely of her, to whom Argentres may be joined for a fourth. I will relate what Hallian says of this in his history, and in his book entitled, Touching the estate and success of affairs in France. His words are these, The miracle of this Woman, were it true or false, did much encourage the depressed hearts both of King, Lords and People; of so great power is religion and sometimes superstition; for some thought her to be a Wench belonging to john Bastard of Orleans, others to Monsieur de Baudicourt, and others to Lentruille, who being wary, and knowing the King to be so moped as that he neither knew what to do nor say, the people to be so dejected as that they were not to be cheered by any humane hopes, they bee-thought themselves how to make use of a false miracle, as a means which infuseth courage and strength into men, and which makes men, especially such as are simple, more than is true; the people being subject to believe such superstitions: so as they are not to be condemned who believe her to be a Virgin sent by God, nor yet they which believe otherwise. These noble men spent some days in instructing her in all such things as she was to answer to the demands the King might likely make her, and such as in his presence they would ask of her, for they themselves were to interrogate her; and to the end she might know the King from among the rest, she never having seen him, they oftentimes made her contemplate his picture, and failed not to be present the day that she was to come, being themselves to be Actors in this business. The first, that asked her what her business was, was the Bastard of Orleans and Baudicourt; she answered, she would speak with the King: then they there presenting some of the Lords that were there present for the King, she said, that was not he, for he was hidden behind his bed, whither she went to find him; and a little while after he adds, This invention of counterfeit and feigned religion was of such advantage to this Kingdom, as that it infused hope into men that were before depressed by despair. Hitherto Hallian. Now that this was rather to be believed then the other report, Argentres seems to denote, where sometime after he makes her encounter with the Constable. Monsieur de Tremuille was by the Constable's means brought into favour with Charles, and he like an ingrate person had wrought the Constable out of favour with him, made him be forbidden the Court, diminished his pensions, given order to the City to shut their Gates upon him, and to the Captains to fight with him; the which the wisest sort thinking to be somewhat hard, the Maid willed it should be put in execution; but the contrary opinion prevailing, she went along with others to meet him, who did him this honour not only as being a Prince, but as being Constable, and their superior; so as being informed of her bad offices, as he came to salute her, said, Jane, I understand you would have fought with me; I know not what you are, nor by whom sent, whether by God or the Devil; if by God, I fear you not, for he knows my intentions as well as yours: if by the Devil, I value you much less, therefore do the worst you can, I defy you. Whereby is plainly seen, what opinion was held of her; and that having failed upon this occasion, as in many others, she had no Spirit of revelation, for than she would not have been subject to ambiguity in the undertaking of things, nor to inconstancy in the putting of them in execution: For what concerns Messierus his testimony, every man who speaks of other men's actions doth say and believe what is said and believed by a concurrence of Writers, not having heard those who affirm the contrary. Moreover, though he were a Fleming by Nation, yet was he not separated from the interest of France; For if in some things, he writ in favour of Philip against the French, he writ many things wherein Philip was not concerned (as namely this) infavour of them; but the evidence that he brings of this Woman for what concerns Philip, ought not make that be believed which he had formerly written in the favour thereof. He brings her forth as sent by God, but not against Philip: He affirms that she had not like success against the Burgonians as she had against the English; that some said, though she were of power against these, yet was she not so against those; as if grace had been conferred upon her conditionally, less towards them, and in abundance towards the English. To witness the which, he alleadges two cases: the one, that being gone to the siege of Senlis, in the defence whereof, besides the English, there were many Burgonians under the command of Lilliadam and Croy, she advised sometimes to fight, and sometimes not, having lost in some small skirmishes 300. men, that is as much as to say, she had taken Senlis if there had been none but English there; that the like befell her before Paris from whence she retreated wounded in her leg. In a word, Sodom was spared as long as Lot stayed there; but if it were so, I see not any reason he had to believe much therein, since these contrary events show the falsehood of her revelations; for since error did ensue thereon, they proceeded not from God, from whom comes no error: and if he will have them to be true, but not obeyed, he will find that the Lord God delivered up a disobedient Prophet to be the prey of a Lion, and that he took away his grace and kingdom from the first disobedient King. The chief reasons which the French produce to prove her being sent by God, are her requiring that sword which she had never seen, as placed in a Church where she had never been, and her having said many things in secret unto the King, which were never by him reto;d to any man; the argument of the sword is very light, for if her coming was by cozenage, other things were effected by the same deceit, without the which she was not to be believed in the principal, but the diversity of writing of the place, of the miracle, of the rust which fell off of itself, and of the diversity of the mark, there is no man who will not account it a manifest sign of falsehood. I forbear to mention in the necessity of this sword, the supposal of somewhat of fatality (according to the Ethnics opinions) and that France should be delivered by the virtue thereof, and not of other weapons, smells of a Romansa and enchantment. The Kings keeping her Counsel doth no ways take from, but rather aggravate the former suspicions. He should have averred the fact, at least after her death, since such secrets appertained only unto himself, and were one day to be known, unless it were that, taken up into the third Heaven as was Saint Paul, she had participated such things unto him as are not lawful to be told to man. Finally, to cry down them for Heretics who do not believe in her, is an apparent vanity: we are then infidels, when we have not that sanctified sense of faith, to the which we are by faith bound; when the usual and daily works of God, which march under the name of nature are not received and admired by us, as the works of his omnipotency; and when we do not believe his extraordinary works, the which being at the same time supernatural and yet visible (as Miracles) cannot be denied without infidelity; but such as do or may depend upon humane cunning or wariness, unless the proofs thereof be more than evident, we may without any scruple of infidelity, not only doubt thereof, but absolutely deny them. The true causes why this was so strictly pressed were two: that which hath already been said to raise up men's spirits, to the end that out of the imagination of special help from Heaven, they might undertake, what their own faintness made them give over; the other, that fraud being turned miracle, Charles' his pretences might be declared just, and Henry's unjust, for God doth not protect injustice. Monstrelet describing her, as do the rest, agrees with the English in that point of her; having served a long time in an Inn, and that as she watered Horses, she rid them without any manner of fear, having abilities not usual in that sex; the which the French deny in words, but in effect confess, when, describing her entry into Orleans, and arming her with white Arms, they make her ride upon a Courser of the same colour, whilst it is to be supposed, either that she would not have known how to have governed him if she had not formerly practised to ●…ide, or else that she did it by miracle: to affirm it done by miracle is too much to abuse miracles by too profane boldness; if otherwise, it was a cozenage handsomely plotted to choose out a Woman, which knowing how to do things which other Women usually know not, the simple sort were made to believe them as extraordinary, not in the sex, but in nature. The assembly of people and victuall's which were to be brought into Orleans was made at Blois, whither the maid came and marched on with the succour. Her Standard was borne displayed before her, wherein were painted three Angels, one in one corner, another in another, with a flower de Luce in their hand; in the midst the image of the Virgin Mary, opposite to the which stood the third, which presented a flower de Luce unto her. Her intention was to enter fight, but the Conductors, who did not believe it, knowing that the greatest part of the besiegers were on Beaux side, left that way and took the other of Soulogne, as the more safe. When they were come to the River they passed over their victualls, the English not stirring one foot, and entered the City with great applause of the Citizens; but the English say, they made their entry by night, favoured by a dark season, wherein it did both thunder and rain, so as they were neither heard nor seen. The chief Conductors returned back to Blois to bring more victualls and munition which yet remained there, while the Bastard of Orleans sent for all the forces that were at Montargis, Schattadune, and other strengths there abouts; with the which, accompanied by the maid, he went to meet them, and passing by the enemy's forts, none of the enemy budging, they entered safely into the City; the easiness of this second succour ought not (as I suppose) be ascribed to a miracle, as well for that the like hath happened upon the like occasions and in other places, as likewise for that two things did facilitate it: the one, that upon the belief of the Maids being sent by God, 7000. Volunteers came flocking to them, who without this would not have ta'en up arms for all that Charles could either have said or done unto them; the other, for that (as some of them do write) they were purposely let pass out of hopes, that the City would the sooner be famished by the increase of her number: thus was it twice victualled the night in the former, and the multitude of Soldiers in the second; making the miracle by the means of who (nor hoped for, nor expected before) the maid being to do great matters, she (as a Messenger from Heaven) would first persuade her enemies peaceably to depart; by this Letter translated and set down in its own natural ancient phrase, as it is more succinctly registered by Serres. KIng of England, do reason to the King of Heaven touching his blood royal, deliver up unto the Maid, the keys of all the good Cities you hold by violence; she is come from God to demand, what is due to the blood royal, she is ready for peace if you will do her reason, paying and quitting what you possess; if you do not this, King of England, I am the Head of War: in whatsoever part of France, I shall meet with your people, I will drive them out will they nill they; If they will obey, I will receive them to mercy. The Maid comes from the King of Heaven, and if you will not obey her, she will make you so great an Hahai, as the like hath not been heard this thousand years in France; for you ought firmly to believe the King of Heaven will give to her, and her good Soldiers more force than you are likely to have, go to your own Country in God's name, and be not stubborn, for you shall not hold France by permission of the King of Heaven, Son of Saint Mary; but King Charles the true heir shall hold it to whom-God hath given it, and who shall enter Paris with a fair company. You William Poole Earl of Suffolk, you John Lord Talbot, you Thomas Lord Scales, Lieutenants to the Duke of Bedford, and you Duke of Bedford, who call yourself Regent in the Kingdom of France, spare the innocent blood, leave Orleans in liberty, for if you will not do reason to those, you have done wrong unto; The French will doc the bravest deed was ever done in Europe, think well upon what God, and the Maid says unto you. No man will think it could produce any thing but laughter, but by what soon ensued, that laughter was turned to an other tone. The Frenchmen say, that the Trumpeter who brought the Letter, was contrary to the law of Nations detained, and that he hardly escaped being burnt; Chartier and Dupleix add, that after the siege, he was found in shackles, which whither it was so or no, I cannot tell: for the English say nothing in this point, and the French do not all agree in one relation, therefore let it be lawful for every one to believe as he listeth; but it is hard to believe (if it were so) that the rage of those who were driven away, who formerly had a mind to burn him should not provoke them to kill him before they went, since they did not depart in such haste, (as Chartier will have them to have done) but that they might have time enough to have done it, since it consisted only in the striking of one stroke. The besieged consulted what they had to do, being by the Maiden assured of certain victory, they resolved to begin with the Fort of Saint Lupe, placed over against the gate of Burgony and guarded by 400. Foot. Fortune favoured their forwardness, they set upon it the fourth of May with so much resolution, as that though it were manfully defended, it was after long contestation more manfully gotten, the garrison was put to the sword, the Fort burned, the Artillery and munition brought into the City, and since Serres writes, that the maid was the first that entered the town crying Monjoy Saint Denis victory; let us grant her this honour, though the rest who speak of her as the head of the enterprise speak not one word thereof. They left the town the next day, and took two Forts, St. john and Londre, the first was easily taken, the second not so easily, where the Soldiers were cut in pieces, and many French prisoners recovered, the sixth day they assailed the tower upon the bridge, defended by Gladisdale by them called Classidas, and highly commended; the fight continued from break of day till Sun set. Gladisdale was slain together with the Lord Merlin and Poinings and many Soldiers. The maid was wounded with an Arrow between the neck and the back, but she forbore not though to fight, and to encourage her men, Dupleix saith, that the Bastard of Orleans seeing the stout resolution of the defendants would have sounded a retreat, but being entreated to the contrary by her, he did not. That having retired herself to her Orisons, for half a quarter of an hour she returned more courageous than before, emboldening the rest by her example, and again, that she having till then been undervalved by the English, they seeing her valour, began now to think that there was somewhat more than humane in her, which formerly they did not believe, and that they were led to this by one of Merlin's prophecies which foretold that they should be ruinated in France by the means of a maid. To the first 'tis answered, that it was by him invented, since that he says that which others do not, the more to confirm the opinion of her pretended sanctity; so the second that amongst all Merlin's prophecies there is not any one such; there is none of any understanding in England who do not hold Merlin's prophecies as invented tales; the diversity of editions (the one not agreeing with the other, as every one of the compositors best liked his own) proves this clearly unto us, but to leave generals, no historian mentions any such thing save himself, so as the English could think no otherwise of the maid then as of an imposture chosen for that purpose, neither is it they alone that do believe this, for the sharpest sighted of France did and do believe it. Things were brought to that pass as hath been said, to the besiegers great disadvantage, so as the besieged pursuing their good fortune, provided to invade such Forts as yet remained in the possession of the enemy, the first was that of the Lord Talbot, who not waiting for them locked up within, met them abroad, fought with them, and forced them to retire with the loss of some men and Artillery, but this imported nothing to what remained to continue; the siege was dangerous, the City was free on the side of Soulogne, the number of the enemy was increased and daily to increase more in number already then were they; victuals could not be inhibited them; to recover what was lost was impossible; so as they resolved to rise from before the town, which was no sooner mentioned, then put in execution: but to take away all appearances that they should be driven away, they resolved (their Forts being forsaken) to put themselves in battle array, to expect the enemy to fight with them if they should come, if not to retreat as they did; for the French making them a bridge of gold by keeping within the City, having expected them the greatest part of the day, they marched away in good order, after seven month's siege. The Earl of Suffolk came with 400. men to jergeau, Talbot to Meune, and the rest to other places. john Chartier says, that at the end of the the siege there were left but 4000 of the English. Serres says, that they stole away by night in a squadron of 9000. and marched towards Baugences, but since he is noted of falsehood by his own country men, 'tis needless for me to endeavour to confute this flight by night, for the rest relate it as we have done; this was the end of the siege of Orleans: A game blow, for as in the loss there of Charles would have run in danger of losing his whole kingdom, so in the preservation thereof, the English lost France; the Citizens and Soldier's joy, and the Maid's glory is not to be expressed, the Forts were thrown down and trenches filled up, and a Crucifix in brass was erected upon the City bridge, on the one side thereof was the effigies of King Charles, and another of the Maid on the other side, both upon their knees and in Armour, as they are there at this day to be seen; and a decree was made that the memorial hereof should every year be celebrated. The first of two evils which forthwith ensued unto the English was weakness, by reason of the death of so many of their valiant men; the which, though by them denied, amounted to the number of 8000. as the French do write, as I do believe Chartiers, who judged their remainder not to exceed 4000 so as being dismembered that they might place the residue in requisite places; they wanted a flying Army, whereby they might be succoured; so as in this their first change of fortune they were piecemeal, if not totally destroyed; the second, that their enemies increased in all parts, and laying aside their fears, did put on as assured a confidence of help from heaven, as was the means despiseable and of no avail, whereby they thought God, (as he was wont to do in his great works) did serve himself; the vulgar do not truly observe the reason of their own obscurity in understanding God had made use of the Maid, if of herself alone, or together with the besieged, who could not long defend themselves, she had freed the City; but if we add to her opinion (which though a phantom in itself) is yet of substance in the elevating of men's spirits, and which really brought her 7000. unexpected fighters over and above those of the Garrison, and those that she brought with her) we shall find that it was not she, but the effects of this opinion which freed them: The Maid departed in great pomp from Orleans to meet with Charles at Chinon, and being by him honourably received, she obtained from him, such reinforcements as she desired of him. The Court had laid aside solitariness by reason of the frequent concourse of Princes and great Lords; for prosperity invites, and adversity keeps men back; the first thing resolved upon was the recovery of such places as were situated upon the Loire, for occasion was not to be let slip: The overthrowing of the English was the setting up of France. For this purpose Charles named john de vallois Duke of Alansonne for his Lieutenant, whilst the Bastard of Orleans believing to lose jargeau, without the assistance of others was enforced to withdraw himself from thence, hindered by the Loire which had overflown all the adjacent parts; but Alansonne being come to Orleans accompanied by the Count de Vendome, who was likewise Prince of the blood, and by the Maid, he together with them went to jargeau, the Earl of Suffolk was there with two of his brethren john and Alexander, they made terrible assaults on three parts, so as the defendants who were but a few, flocked all to the parts assailed; so as S. Trail perceiving the walls bare where no assault was made, had not much difficulty in scaling them, nor in cutting in pieces those who fought; amongst the which Alexander was one: They took the Earl of Suffolk, his brother john and many other prisoners, who being brought to Orleans, & the victors not agreeing in the dividing of them, they all agreed in the putting of them to death upon could blood, sparing only the Earl and his brother Avarice in hopes of their ransom outvying cruelty, they were at the same time reinforced by 7000. men sent unto them by Charles under the command of Guy de Laval, the Marishall Loeac his brother, Chavignes de la Tower & Vidame de Schartres; with these and their former Forces Alansonne & Vandome went to Meune, they fought for the bridge and won it, wherein leaving a sufficient Garrison, they forbore to besiege the town till a more fit time, thinking it requisite for them first to make themselves masters of Beaugences; Talbot this mean while took Laval by scaling ladders (formerly won by him, but which according to their natural inclination, had afterwards set up their first master's standard) wherein though he found much riches, yet wanted he the conquest of the Castle to make it an entire victory. Hither was Andrew de Laval, Lord of Loeac retired, not out of hopes of keeping himself there, for he wanted provision; but to make a more reasonable composition, so as engaging himself to pay for the ransom of himself and all that were there with him 25000. Crowns, remaining himself prisoner till such time as that sum should either be paid, or sufficient security given in for the payment thereof. Talbot placed a Garrison there, and went to Paris, whether assoon as he was come he was forthwith dispatched again, together with the Lord Scales to the succour of Beaugences, which they were informed was besieged. He presented himself before it with 4000 men, but found it so straight begirt, as he thought best to retire. To this siege was the Constable come, accompanied by Messieurs d'Albret, Rieux Chasteaubri and, Beaumanoir, Martial of Britanny, Montalban, St. Giles, many others 1200. Horse, and 1500. Foot; wherewith he had so enforced Charles his Army, as that the enemy was not able to stand before them, and though the English make his Army to consist of between 22. and 23000. yet are they somewhat deceived; for the French count 7000. before jargeau (besides those who Alansonne and the Maid brought with them) 7000. who Charles sent by Guy de Laval, and 2700. which the Constable brought with him: all which as they were formerly wont to run away from the Army, so did they now flock thereunto; for Fortune favouring, they hourly multiplied, the which being perceived by the besieged, and failing in their succour they yielded themselves, their Arms, Horses, and Baggage being saved. Belleforest says that for what concerned their Baggage, they were limited to a mark a man, and were obliged not to take Arms for the space of ten days against the King of France. How ever it was, the two English Captains retreat was more unfortunate, then was their coming▪ for thinking themselves to be able to force the Tower of the bridge of Meune, and be there in safety, they could not do it, for they were so closely followed by the whole Camp, as that the Avantguard was at Meune, at the same time that they went from thence. They endeavoured to recover janville, but were hindered by those who followed them, so as being come to Poitiers in Beausse, and surrounded by the enemy, they resolved to fight; they were furiously set upon by 1400. Horsemen chosen out of the whole Camp, to stay them by skirmishing with them, till such time as the others should come up, who were conducted by Messieurs de Vignolles St. Traille Tilloy, Lore, Terms and Illiers. Talbot seeing himself so hard beset, had given order to his men to keep themselves firm within their sharpened staves, believing to be set upon by the whole body of the Army, but this unexpected number of Horsemen charging upon him, there was no time to think thereon; the fight was come to that pass as the whole body of the Army coming up, Talbot being wounded and afterwards taken, his men had no more mind to fight nor resolution to die; some fled to Corbuille, and some to Meune. janville would not receive them, for they were mingled with the enemy, which pursued them closely, so as the slaughter was great and but few the prisoners, the chiefest whereof was, Talbot, Scales, Hungerford, all three Barons, and Sir Thomas Ramstone. Sir john Falstaff fled from this scuffle without giving or receiving a blow (judging it as I think rashness to fight at disadvantage against so many in open field) who for his former actions was that year made Knight of the Garter. The Duke of Bedford incensed at this his flight, took from him his George and Garter, which afterwards by means of friends and his alleging excuses, (which were judged reasonable) were restored unto him, though against Talbots will. This brave Commanders imprisonment was of such consequence, as 'twas thought the English would never be able to do any thing more of moment in France, janville, Meunes and all other places which the English held in. Beausse yielded up themselves, as is usual in great losses, so as Charles did in a short time win in these parts what he was long in losing; for to boot with the preservation of Orleans (wherein the Earl of Salisbury, the principal pillar of England's fortune was slain) he recovered jargeau, Baugency, janville, Meune and all Beausse, together with the imprisonment of Talbot the second Column of the adverse party, all which happened out of the belief, that a base woman of a doubted reputation was sent from heaven to raise the one and suppress the other. For France was so discouraged before, as none durst take up arms to defend her, nor is this to be wondered at, for as the understanding conceives not but by the sense, so force doth not work but through imagination weakened by fear, or strengthened by hope; so as we must believe that the good effects of moral actions do proceed first from good imagination, then from good action, for the latter depends upon the former; Notwithstanding all these conquests 'twas disputed whether Charles should be crowned at Rheims or no; the reasons alleged against it being all of consequence. He was to pass by places held by the enemy; on the one side Auxerres, Troyes, and Shallon were an obstacle to him; on the other side Laon, and Soissons, and Gastinois, Brie, Picardy, and all the Country from Loire northward, and to the Sea was in their possession. The Coronation was a mere ceremony, whereby the right unto the Crown was neither given nor taken away. It was not a thing universally used, the use thereof derives not from the Law to make it requisite, but from necessity (if any there be) to make the Prince thereby known unto the people, there was no such necessity in Charles his case. He was a lawful Prince by all men held lawfully to be so, he was not opposed by his own men but by strangers, and if by some of his own, they were thereunto by fear enforced, 'twas not of freewill; but say it had been necessary, since Henry thought it not necessary, neither ought he to have thought it; not that the institution was to be changed (for use had so far prevailed as it was not to be altered without scandal) but to be changed for a time, for what is deferred is not absolutely taken away, especially where the delay proceeds from wisdom & good advice, but these reasons did not satisfy the Maid, as contrary to one of the three points for which she was sent: for Orleans being set at liberty, his Coronation at Rheims was to follow, and the driving out of the English, to the end that her prophecies might be fulfilled, as indeed they all were, though not according to her sense the third: for the English were driven out, but not by her, as she threatened them in her letter; Charles was waited upon in this his voyage by all the Barons of his train, except the Constable, (whom Tremuille was not willing to be troubled withal) and Count Pedriac, who by being friend to the Constable was by Tremuille opposed; yet for fear least being discontent they might undertake some ill business, their denial was honested, by giving commission to the former to guard the frontiers of Normandy, and by naming the other Lieutenant of Guienne, to the end that being thus parted, theirforces might not have communion together. The which being by them well known, they accepted these charges with like dissimulation as they were conferred upon him. Dupleix notwithstanding contrary to the opinion of the rest, will have the Constable to go along with him. Charles his Army consisted of 12000. men wherewith he arrived at Auxerres; the English say that those Cities demanded day for the surrendering of themselves, if in the mean while they should not be succoured and they obtained it. But the French accuse Tremuille, for that being bribed, he made Charles pass on without troubling them. Saint Florentine did readily yield. At Trois, they found some difficulty, for they wanted things necessary to take it by force, so as the greatest part counselled to retire, but the Maid (according to Belleforest) promising to take it within two days set the Nobility itself a work in making platforms, forts, and trenches, as if all things were ready to force the Town, whereupon for mere fear they surrendered themselves. The English say, it was besieged 12. days; and that Sr. Philip Hall, who had the command thereof, wanting both men and victuals, and not hoping for succour, compounded for the safe departure of himself and garrison with all their baggage. the Garrisons of Shallon and Rheims enforced by the Inhabitants came forth upon the like conditions, the Cities yielding themselves up to Charles, who made his solemn entry into Rheims, and was crowned there. I set not down the Ceremonies as not requisite to our story; but I will say, that as coronation is a useless and vain ceremony in Kings, who have no competitors, so is it more than requisite for one that hath competitors, as it happened here, for people judge not things as they are, but as they appear. Charles was no sooner crowned but Men and Cities hasted to do him homage, as if that action had endowed him with right and justice, which before he wanted. Auxerres not being succoured within the limited time sent him its keys. Laon did by Deputies do obeissance to him, as he went from thence Soissons, Chasteau-Thierre, and Province, yielded to him, whereupon the Duke of Bedford thinking, that this torrent could not be withstood, but by a field battle came forth of Paris with 10000 English, and some few Norman troops. When he was come to Brie, he writ by a Herald to Charles, that his pretensions (which had caused so great mortality and mischief to the people) being contrary to all laws especially to the agreement made between Henry the fifth and Charles the sixth, and the Kingdom of France; he was came out of Paris to prove them unjust, that therefore, if he would choose the place, he was ready to give him battle where ever it were. Charles accepted the invitation at least seemed so to do, the Armies presented themselves in sight one of the other near to Senlis, they stayed there the space of two days and two nights, making only some little skirmishes, each endeavouring to get the advantage over the other; but the English having secured themselves behind that they might not be surprised (for Charles was by much the greater number especially in horse) and the French not willing to venture upon one battle what they had won, and what they had to win by the devotion of such as daily came over to them, and the Maid councelling sometimes to fight, sometimes otherwise, they retreated face to face, and Bedford returned to Paris doubting the Citizen's loyalty. This retreat is diversely reported by Authors, this which I have said, is according to Monstrelot. The English affirm, that Charles retreated by night, as not willing to hazard a battle, nor yet willing to tarry longer, for fear of incurring the name of Coward. Belleforest, on the other side says, that Bedford did not pass Melune, where examining the turn of the wheel, he resolved like a wise Prince not to wrestle against fortune, leaving Charles Master of the field, Giles brings him to Brie near to the Town called Motta de Nangis, where hearing, that the King expected him, he durst go no further, but fled away with his Army to Paris. Hallian encamps him so much to the advantage, as that the King was advised not to fight with him, and that therefore the next day, he returned to Paris. Chesnes having registered the long letter of defiance sent by Bedford to Charles, adds, but as such letters were fuller of bravadoes and passion, then of desire to fight, so the Duke of Bedford being come near to Charles not far from Senlis, durst not give him battle, but shamefully sounded a retreat, which afforded the King leisure to lead his Army towards Champagnia: these four Authors are of four several opinions in this history. The first will not have Bedford pass Melune, the second brings him to Brie, the one making him wise, the other a Coward; the third making him wise by well entrenching himself, whereupon he was advised to retire: the fourth brings him near to Charles, but arming him with Thraso's Army makes him a braggart and runaway. Dupleix confronts the two Armies with an opinion of fight, though some skirmishes only ensued, wherein about 300. of both sides were slain. He says, that the English entrenched themselves to much to the advantage against the French-horse, that the Council and jane herself advised not to set upon them, whilst they the mean while were sure not to stir forth for fear of being fought withal: that the English say, Charles' retired by night for fear of being enforced to fight, where on the contrary side it was likelier, that it was not he, who formerly forbore to fight because he went with banners displayed directly towards Paris, where the English might advantageously have given him battle, all the Country thereabouts being at their command; to witness what he says; he in the Margin citys Monstrelet, and Chartier; Monstrelet says, they did skirmish; but not, that the English durst not come forth of their trenches, for they could not otherwise skirmish. He adds, that they were so well entrenched, as that they could not be set upon behind, the French exceeding by much the enemy in number. A particular whereof Dupleix speaketh not, then if Bedford merit blame for having secured himself backwards, to the great disadvantage of those, that should fight with him; what doth Charles deserve, who with so much a greater number durst not confront him, whilst unintrenched, he stood ready to receive him; so as it was not cowardice in the one, not to permit all advantages to the adversary, so not to fight because all were not permitted him, was no sign of much valour in the other. Monstrelet doth not say, that jane advised not to set upon the enemy, but that she was various in her opinion, advising sometimes to fight, sometimes not: a witness rather, that she was any thing else, than what by his own testimony she was reputed. But I wonder at nothing more, then that Dupleix should quote Chartier, who writes all things contrary to what he says, Chartier brings the two Armies face to face within the shoot of a Culverin, for one whole day together, without either hedge or thorn between them, that is, any thing whereby to fortify them, or to detain them; they not having according to his account sufficient time to fortify themselves. He says Charles was the first that left the field, and then Bedford. Charles that very night went to Crespus, and the next night to Compaignes', where he says, he stayed 8. days; if Charles went first away, Bedford fled not: that he departed by night is more likely by the English Histories, which affirm he did so to shun fight; then the likelihoods affirmed by Dupleix, grounded upon his feigned voyage to Paris, which none other writes off; Chesnes and Chartier say plainly, that he went to Compaignes', where if he tarried 8. days, Bedford could not with advantage give him battle in a Country which was at his command and disposal, as he would have it. My opinion (amongst the diversity of so many which, if they could be credited should be conformable) is, that the Duke, if Charles had not gone his ways, would have fought though upon whatsoever disadvantage. For the English covet battle at all times, and in all wars, as well foreign as civil they are by nature firm to their resolves as are their cocks and dogs, which suddenly fall to, and give not over but by death or want of breath: but say, this was not the reason which eggd them on to battle, since that the French forces increased by temporizing and theirs decreased; Charles on the other side had no reason to fight, lest by an irrational hazard, he might break the course of his victory, one battle being able to ruinate him: so as holding fortune in his fist; by pursuing her, he had no reason to give her occasion to forsake him by tempting her too much. The Duke of Bedford seeing that the state of affairs required brisk resolutions, writ to his Brother, desiring to use all means possible to send him over some Soldiers, for without speedy help his affairs in France were in great danger. These Letters came unto the King, just as the Cardinal of Winchester was at Dover ready to pass over into Bohemia with 4000 men. The Hussites had much troubled that Kingdom not without danger, of infecting the Neighbouring Countries with their opinions, the which Martin the fifth, being willing to withstand; he did (together with other remedies) nominate the Cardinal of Winchester his Legate in this War, and that by coming armed, he might not be despised, he gave him power to raise the tenth part of all the Ecclesiastical livings in England to make thereby a levy of soldiers. The business being propounded in Parliament, and approved of, by means of the said monies these 4000 men were raised. The Duke of Gloucester, who could not make so sudden provision of men, entreated the Cardinal to assist the business of France by transporting those soldiers to the Regent, and that when he should see those affairs out of danger, he might go on his journey. The Cardinal obeyed him though unwillingly, moved thereunto out of consideration, that if any disaster should be fall the King's business, the fault might be laid on him. The Regent reinforced by these men, came forth again into the field, continuing his resolution of fight with the enemy, who being encamped between Baron and Monpillier, he encamped himself between Baron and Selins where many skirmishes were made; but Charles not willing to set upon him in his own Camp, though he were by much the greater number; nor the Regent to expose himself to all disadvantages, they both retired, the Cardinal taking his way towards Bohemia, where having had ill fortune, he returned home with little honour; and Cardinal Guilian was sent in his place. Henry was now entered into the eighth year of his reign, and the ninth of his age, not having been till then crowned; so as on the sixth of November this solemnity was with much pomp celebrated at Westminster, with all such demonstrations of joy, as upon like occasions are usually made both publicly and privately. Charles this mean while being free from the encounter with Bedford, received as he passed by such Cities as surrendered themselves, amongst which Campaigne and Senlis; but thinking this success not sufficient unless he could totally sever Philip from the enemy; he resolved to send Ambassadors to him, who excusing the death of his Father, might show unto him how misbecoming a thing it was for a Prince of his quality, so blamefully to join with those who did oppugn the house royal, the Country and Kingdom, to the which he, or such as should descend from him might sometimes aspire, if Fortune should throw the succession upon him, offering him what conditions he pleased, and such as were never to be effected. But Philip keeping himself upon generals, neither giving hopes, nor taking them quite away, and demanding such things as were not to be granted him, reserved himself to his best advantage, for being courted by both sides, he was sure that without him neither of them could prevail. This mean while Beaunois and Omale being come over to Charles, the Regent fearing yet worse, went to Normandy, the Province, which though all the rest were lost was chiefly to be preserved, as being the Patrimony of the Crown of England, and the most convenient for it of all the rest; leaving Lovis of Luxemburg Bishop of jerovanne, who by Henry's means enjoyed the office of Chancellorship of France in Paris, with 2000 English under good Commanders. Charles would not not lose the opportunity of this absence, to try whether fortune would favour him in the achieving of that City. S. Denis yielded itself up unto him without resistance, so as his men began to scour the country even to underneath the walls of Paris; and the chiefest of his Army being lodged at La Chapelle, they levelled their Artillery against the gate Saint Honore and took the Bulwark thereof; whereupon the Maid throwing herself into the ditch, and resolute, contrary to the advice of Alansonne and all the rest, to give an assault (he pretended revelation, having not revealed unto her the depth of the ditch, and the water therein) she was wounded in her leg; the which not abating her violence, but she still persisting in causing where withal to be brought to fill it up, she had there been taken had not a servant of the Duke of Alansonnes withdrawn her from thence; so as force proving vain, many brave soldiers being there slain, and the Bulwark abandoned, they wholly forsook the enterprise. Charles took his way from Touraine by Berry, being not naturally inclined to businesses, but rather to the trimming up of gardens, as usually are the lovers of idleness; an humour which though it be allowable in men who have not much to do, yet is it harmful in Princes, whose art it is to give laws to peace, to govern their people with honour, to pardon the humble, and punish the proud. The Regent understanding the danger that Paris was in, made haste thither; he thanked the City for the loyalty they had showed upon this occasion, promising whatsoever might be expected from a moderate government, and from a King who loved nothing more than the preservation and content of his people: Philip was not long in coming thither, who after having treated with him of what was to be done, after a short stay departed leaving him to the recovery of Saint Denis, and the adjacent places; whilst the Bastard of Orleans laid siege to the Castle of Turcis, which being very strong both by situation and art; held out six months, at the end whereof it yeeded; the Soldier's lives being saved, and the Castle wholly demolished. At this very time Sir Thomas Tyrrel had with 400. Soldiers, much damnified the county of Clerimont, the Count thereof resolute to chastise his boldness, drew out the Garrisons from thence and the neighbouring places, and chase him therewithal, overtook him about Beauvois, in so narrow a passage, as his Horsemen could not make use of their Horses, they therefore quitted them, and fiercely set upon him; the bickering lasted a good while without knowledge which side had the better, till such time as the English bows decided it, the Count saved himself, for which he owes thanks to his Horse's heels; of the rest 300. were slain and 200. taken prisoners, with whom Sir Thomas returned to Grovay, the place of his Garrison. Omale had a little before yielded unto Charles as hath been said, Mounsieur de Ramburres remaining Governor thereof; the Earl of Suffolk besieged it and after 25. assaults, the Town not being able to do any more, surrendered itself, the Earl caused 30. of the chiefest of them to be hanged on the Walls as falsifiers of their faith, and perjured to Henry; he fined the rest, and sent Mounsieur de Rambourres into England, who six years after recovered his lost liberty by exchange. On the other side Laval which Talbot had taken the year before, was retaken by the French, who lay in ambush all night near unto a Mill, and following the Miller's advice who they had corrupted, they entered the town at the opening of the gates, putting all the English they found there to the sword, save some few who saved themselves by throwing themselves from the top of the Walls. La Hire did likewise surprise Louviers, making rich booty, taking many prisoners, and swearing the inhabitants to be loyal to Charles; for all this change of Fortune Philip forbore not to think of Feasts and jollities, for being widower to two barren wives, he married Isabel daughter to john King of Castille, and Philip of Lancaster, Sister to Henry the fourth, Grandfather to the present King; in honour of that marriage he instituted the order of the fleece, the which together with the succession of the Low countries in the Crown of Spain, is at this day one of the noblest, and most singular signs of favour which those King's use to confer; the solemnities being ended, he went to Gournay accepting the offer of Tristen de Magvelliers (who was Governor thereof) to surrender itself the first of August in case it were not before that time succoured: from thence he passed to Soisi which yielded unto him; the lives and livelihoods granted to as many as were there, and demolishing it to the very ground, he went from thence to Soisons, which the French say was sold unto him by a Captain of Picardy who commanded there, so as having freed the way from his own dominions to Compaignes he laid siege thereunto. Compaignes' was provided with men munition and victuals for a long time, so as the Burgonians not hoping to take it but by the length of time and much danger, having planted their battery, they there made Forts and Trenches for their own safeties, and to necessitate the besieged: The Earls of Arundel and Suffolk increased the Camp by 2000 English, and the Maid the Garrison by 500 Soldiers which she brought thither from Laignes. William de Havie was Governor of the place, a valiant Gentleman, who failed not to keep the besiegers in exercise. Soon after his arrival the Maid came with intention of making herself Master of the Castle of Mounsieur de Bawd, who was then absent, and gone to Marigny in the service of Philip, but being overdone by those who flocked thither to oppose her, it behoved her to give over the attempt, whilst her men entered into the City entering thereinto tumultuously, by reason of the straightness of the bars, which the keepers durst not take away, lest the enemy might enter in along with them; she was one of the last that came thither, entertaining those who pursued her, and affording time to the rest to save themselves; but her upper garment being seized upon by a Horseman, and she pulled from her horse, she was maugre with those which would have defended her, taken prisoner. An opinion is held that the bars were shut upon her out of malice; some of the Captains, particularly William de Havy, not well enduring that the glory of all that was done should be ascribed to her; but how ever it was, she was led to Marignes, and from thence to Rouen, where being strictly imprisoned her process was made, duly suffering (had she not deserved punishment for any thing else) for having not long before with too much cruelty, and upon cold blood put to death Franchetto d'Arras, a valaint Burgonian, whilst she should have treated him like a Prisoner of War, as the French exclaime she ought to have been treated, but being transported by womanish anger (for that he in an encounter had long, and valiantly resisted her, causing her send for help to Laignes, and the Circumvoysive Garrisons, without which she had not been able to overcome him, though much the greater in number) she caused his head to be taken of, so as in her is seen accomplished what is said by the Evangelist, the like measure being measured forth to her as she measured forth to others; we will in due place relate the rest, she not being put to death till some time after. The Regent to boot with the former had sent to Philip the Earl of Huntingdon, Sir john Robsert and a thousand Archers, so as that place was not likely long to have subsisted had not the news of the Duke of Brabant's death enforced him to go from thence to take order for that state, which by inheritance fell to him. He left john of Luxenburgh his Lieutenant, a poorly spirited man, and who the more discouraged by reason of the Forces which Philip carried away with him, did forth with doubt the enterprise. He imparted his resolution of quitting the siege to the English, honesting it by the incommodities of winter, and by remitting it till the Spring; they dissuaded him, showing him how shameful a thing it was to forsake it now that the Camp was so situated, as that the Town could not be succoured, and those within the Town reduced to the point of being within a few days famished, but no reason could prevail with him. He by all means would be gone. The English went to Normandy, and he having set on fire all his hutches went his ways, leaving behind him many pieces of Artillery wanting wherewithal to carry them away, 'twas thought that the besieged could not have held out above ten days, the plague and famine having begun to make havoc of them. Fortune did for the most part after this retreat from upon the English, so as perceiving themselves to decline, they thought that the same means which had raised up Charles might do the like to Henry; and that by coming into France to be crowned he might confirm those of his party in their obedience, and might reduce those thereunto who were now far from it; but examples cannot be equal where circumstances are unequal: If Charles his coronation drew unto him both Cities and men, 'twas because he formerly had their hearts. 'Twas otherwise with Henry, for though he were of amiable years and customs, yet being a stranger he was not to promise himself that beyond nature, which Charles by nature had so easily come by. The difference of the Climate where he was borne did subvert these effects in him which conformity had made happy in his enemy's advantages the 27. of April he took Sea at Dover, and landed the same day at Calis attended on by a great many of Lords and Soldiers, from whence he passed to Rouen, where he was received by the inhabitants with great signs of joy. The Maid being ta'en prisoner, we left the pursuit of her story to end the siege of Compaigne; we will now make a short relation of her process and sentence. The University of Paris was her first accuser. They writ to Henry, desiring him, that she might be delivered over into the Ecclesiastical Courts, for that she had been a cause of much scandal amongst the people to the prejudice of Religion, and of the Catholic Faith; she was delivered over to the Bishop of Beauvois, and the Inquisitor, being taken in the former Diocese; she was examined upon 78. articles, some of which were. Her change of Woman's apparel for man's. Ruins and Manslaughters partly committed by her, partly by her directions, that she had seduced the people, by making them believe, she was sent from God. The falsehood of her revelations, that she was a Sorceress, a Witch, a foreteller of things to come, that she had dissuaded Charles from peace with England; that she had boasted herself to know things to come: that she had said, the Saints that conversed with her, had been seen by the King; the Duke of Bourbon and two or three Lords more. That she had so seduced the people, as that many abused by her hypocrisy and feigned devotion worshipped her as a Saint. To these and the rest, in some she gave becoming answers; in others very foolish ones. Giles one of her chiefest advocates, says, these underwritten words. For my own part I intent not totally to take from any one, the judgement of visions, wherein this Maid hath showed herself too superstitious. I am clearly of opinion, that she never was a whore, nor vagabond, as some have deciphered her to be. I likewise think, that he having raised the siege of Orleans, and brought the King to be crowned, was not done by the Devil's means, but if there were any folly or lightness in her answers to her interrogations, it should be ascribed to the weakness of her sex, and the confusion of her mind, caused by her miseries and imprisonment, the like I say of her boldness, which was somewhat more, than became Christian humility. The words of a man of integrity, though said, that he might not fail in his judgement, and for that they could not be denied: for amongst the rest of her vanities, being asked by what name those who spoke unto her in vision did call her; she answered, that after the siege of Orleans they called her the Maid jane, daughter of God, as if the freeing of Orleans her pretended work had made her worthy of that name. But Giles leaving the judgement of visions at liberty, seems not to approve, that which he defends: for visions, not honesty makes her what she affirms herself to be, and as touching her honesty; though it be a bad sign, that her own writers have doubted it, yet will not I dispute it, only in as much as unchastity admits not the favour of divine mission, which is the ground work of the controversy. Ancient Idolaters give us Pithia, and the Sibyl's Virgins; nature showing us, that divinity is an enemy to pollution, as for the freeing of Orleans, and crowning of the King: I do not, only think them, but all her other actions to be done without the Devil's means for it appears not to me, that she knew what the Devil was. I with Polidorus praise her as parallel to Cloelia since it so pleaseth him; but not as parallel to her in her actions. Cloelia fought not, feigned not, did no harm to any: the Maid did hurt, and as much unto herself as others. I do not praise her with Tillet, who doth paragonise her to Deborah, jael, and judith. I do not liken herto them, nor yet the English and the French to the Canaanites and Israelites. Israel was a chosen faithful people, the Canaanites Idolaters and reprobates; The English and French both Christians. Of the latter two let me be permitted to say, that jael violated the laws of Hospitality and friendship, neither did she do it by the commandment of God so as her act may be authorised. judith deserveth praise for an act more generous than just: Justice admits not of flattery deceit lies, first to cousin, and then to assasinate the enemy, she is praised for the good that ensued thereupon; Her action being the more Heroic as done against an infidel by the hand of a Woman, and in the service of her Country, for the which all actions seem lawful though they be not so: deceit is vulgarly accounted lawful against the enemy, the which whether it be to be approved of or no in Christian religion, I leave to be decided by divines, whilst in the mere respect of virtue, the Gentles teach us the contrary. The Athenians rejected the advantageous record of Themistocles, because it was (according to Aristides) as much unjust as useful. But let us grant what parallel you please unto the Maid. If she had proceeded in this business like Cloelia, without any fiction, out of much zeal to her Country no praise had been too great for her, but Hypocrisy (without the which she could not compass her end) cancelled all worth, leaving only so much shadow thereof, as may become a bold resolution; and moreover that Cloelian worth vanished in her, when swearing that she never dreamt of, she confessed herself guilty, when she was not, that she might not die; and being sentenced to be burnt, she said than she was with child to prolong her end; signs of a Spirit inconstant in sanctimony and virtue, the which if at any time they entered into her, it was not as into their own house, but as into a lodging or inn by way of passage. Her first sentence was perpetual imprisonment with bread and water, abjuring the evils committed, and the opinions contrary to the holy sense of Religion; the evils committed, not submitted to abjuration but to repentance, and her opinions contrary to the holy sense of Scripture as void, asignorant; unless, by opinions they understand her impostures and lies, in affirming herself to be sent from Heaven, and to have talked with the Saints. Vanity which causing her to repent, her repentance made her to be thought relapsed, and to be reassigned over to the secular power, which condemned her to be burnt; whereupon affirming herself to be with child, and her punishment deferred for nine months; she not being brought to bed; nor proving with child, she was the next year 1431. in the month of May burnt in the marketplace of Rouen, where at this day stands Saint Michel's Church, and where her ashes were by the wind dispersed. Belleforest relates one of the two miracles which you may read in the underwritten verses of Valeran Varan. POstremo enituit pietas in morte Puellae, In cinerem cunctos dum flamma resolveret artus; Illaesus cor habet ve●…as (mirabile dictu) Nec sinceri animi temerant incendia sedem. Albaque tunc vita est igni prodire columba Et petere Aethereos multis spectantibus orbs. But saying nothing of the dove; and publishing the other of her incombustible heart, he leaves us in doubt whether Varan writ these by way of Poetical Hyperbole, or of true Miracle; if by Hyperbole, Belleforest should have made no mention at all thereof; if by Miracle, where he alludes the one, he ought not to have concealed the other: but say that the incombustibility were a truth, and the dove a poetical fiction; how is it possible, that this truth should be only written by a Poet, and that the English should be so obdurate as not to be affrighted at so great a wonder? if they were both Miracles, and that the English concealed the one by stealing away her heart, they could not conceal the other, since the dove flew away to the sky, in midst of flames, and in the sight of all men; whereby her innocency, sanctity and martyrdom, the injustice of her judges, and the infidelity of the English, spiritually blind to so apparent a miracle might have clearly appeared to the World. Neither would Varan have been the only relater hereof, for France, the whole World, and England itself would in despite of herself have confessed it: for what remains, that the Judges who condemned her, came all to an evil end, it might be believed (suppose it were so) if a death according to humane appearance happy, were an argument of a man's uprightness. The just would then have reason to judge themselves more than all the Judges of the World, since amongst the unjust (which are innumerable) few, or very seldom any come to apparent punishment. But I am of opinion, that according to Christian piety, it would be safer to believe, that as of good men there are more miserable than fortunate, and of bad more fortunate than unfortunate, so God reserves to his own good will, as well the reward as the punishment, changing the good and evil of this World; with the good and evil of the World to come; our judgements in this case, being oblique false and not belonging to us. The last argument of her innocency, the most solid and hardest of all the rest to be answered, is, that 26. years after when the English were driven out and Charles established, she was declared innocent by a Comissioner deligated from Calistus the third, but the Pope had nothing to do herein more than his delegation; an ordinary title upon such occasions. Princes though delegated by God are not always just, neither could the Popes assign them to that office, but upon the place where the testimonials were to be examined: so as the Archbishop of Rheims, and the Bishop of Paris Commissioners, and the Bishop of Constance, who were joined with them are liable to the like oppositions by the English, as were the Bishop of Beauvois, and his associates by the French. These opposed, as having dependency upon England, those as depending upon France: the witnesses of her condemnation partial to Henry, the witnesses of her absolution partial to Charles; she was condemned by those, who had dependency on the one, and absolved by those, who did depend upon the other, and yet in a case so favoured, as that none did oppose it (where the interest of no third Person was treated off, and a Party being in question, to whom France ought so much, as also Charles his right to that kingdom declarable by the ablution of the condemned, as sent from God to this purpose) what was the reason why (according to Giles) many of those that were cited, did not appear, if it were not either, that they would not depose against their consciences, or else were loath to offend the King by deposing the truth? the which being well foreseen by the Commissioners, they failed not to add this clause in their letters, to proceed notwithstanding the contumacy of such as being cited, would not appear. Finally, if her innocency had been totally cleared by this absolution; it was impossible, that any foreign pen much less those of France, should have defamed her, but rather her pretended sanctity being granted: her revelations, missionem predictions, apparitions of Spirits and blessed Souls, her Canonization was not to have been pretermitted, which for all this was neither procured nor thought upon by any one: for say, that all these patchings were taken for things as clear as day; her change of habit, her profession of Arms against Christians and Catholic Christians: Her cruelty, her thirst after blood, her having served in an Inn, her fictions, hypocrisy and dishonesty (though not true) were of too scandalous suspicion to suffer her to pretend to be a Saint. Notwithstanding let her not want the praise she did deserve. She was a brave and a valiant Amazon the restorer of that Kingdom; and if she did not drive the English from thence, as she herself had vaunted, she was if not the only, the chief, or at least one of the chief causes why the English lost France. They had resolved upon Henry's coronation, hoping for the like good effects as upon the same occasion had ensued to his Comp●…itor, not observing, that if this were the essential reason of his advancements, they were notwithstanding deceived: for there was a certain place appointed for the coronation and circumstances not to be pretermitted, nor were they omitted by Charles in what the condition of times would suffer him, that Rheimes was the place appointed for this ceremony, that the oil brought by a dove from Saint Remigi●… (as they write) was to be used in the anointing of the King; and that the inclination of the people was to intervene, which Henry wanted. So as if he had been crowned in Rheimes and anointed with the reputed heavenly oil, his fortune was not thought to change, since it did not proceed from those extrinsical actions, but from humane affections after divine providence, which is the only cause of our good or bad fortune; and which being inscrutable is not discovered by any events, neither doth it declare unto us whether we be worthy of love or hatred; favours and disfavours from Heaven are by us interpreted a like beneficial to us; for if we repute favours a sign of God's grace, we account his disfavours likewise as marks of his love, since he correcteth and chasteneth those that he loves, then since we are certain of nothing more than of our no●… deserving of good, and of our meriting of evil, we ought not to grow proud in prosperity, nor to be cast down by adversity, but to receive scourges with hope, and good fortune with fear, since we know not what may thereby happen unto us, the which we see in Charles for being freed from his foreign enemies, the enmity of his son threw him into an abyss of so many jealousies and suspicions, as they brought him to die a death which no Prince ever did; so as it rests in doubt whether his favours were divine graces, or rather means to bring him to a miserable end; but however it was Henry went from Rouen towards Paris in November, followed by a great many Princes and Lords, English, French and Gascons; the chief of the English were the two Cardinals, of Winchester and York; the Dukes of Bedford, York and Norfolk, the Earls of Warwick, Salisbury, Oxford, Huntingdon, Ormond, Mortaigne and Suffolk. Of French the Duke of Burgony, Lewis de Luxenburg, Cardinal and Chancellor of the Kingdom; the Bishops of Beauvois and Noyon, first Peers of France: the Bishop of Paris and others after him. Of Gascons Count Longuerville, Count de March; Count Vademont of Lorraine and many others: He was received and met with great pomp, no expenses spared for the solemnisation. He was crowned in the Church of Nostre-Dame on the seventeenth day of October, the Cardinal of Winchester setting the Crown upon his head, whereat the Bishop of Paris was much distasted, thinking that office had belonged to him, to whom the Church and Diocese did belong; he returned with a Crown on his head and a Sceptre in his hand, another Crown and Sceptre being borne before him, in signification of the Kingdom of England. Chesnes sets down the particularities which I omit, as not requisite to our story. The business of War did not in this mean while lie idle, but was pursued by both factions, with alternate Fortune; some good success this side had, and some of no great consequence. Francis Suria●…es called L' Aragonesa, suprised Montargis, getting that by some little money, which those who had attempted it before him, could not get by force. He with 2000 Crowns corrupted a woman belonging to Mounsieur de Villiers Captain of the Town, by whose means he made himself master thereof, and though not long after the town was retaken by Messieurs de Graville, and de Vitry, yet not being able after a siege of five or six weeks, to take the Castle they went their ways, leaving the town to ' its former possessors, who refortifying it, held it, till with it they lost all that they held thereabouts. Mounsieur de Bousac Admiral of France being come to Beauvois, with intention to make some impression in Normandy, was crossed therein by the Earl of Arundel, who lying in ambush with 2300. men near to the Castle, and having sent a choice troop of Horse even to the Palisadoes, to set upon him behind; they were by him set upon with as much violence as diligence, they retired making him believe that he had won the day, but falling into the snare, and being after a long and gallant conflict defeated, he with some few saved himself; amongst many others Saint Raigle was taken prisoner, who was afterwards changed for Talbot. Renatus of Anjou, brother to Lovys the third Duke of Anjou, Count de Province, and who by his pretensions to the Kingdom of Naples entitled himself King of Sicily, enjoyed the Duchy of Anjou, as Husband to Isabel daughter to Charles the first Duke of Lorraine. Anthony Count Vademont, brother to Charles pretended to the succession thereof; alleging that the inheritance fell not upon women, whereupon the War began. Renatus was maintained by the French, Anthony by Philip and the English. Renatus besieged Vademont, Anthony went to succour it, strengthened by his assisters. Renatus leaving some to make good the siege, went courageously to meet him; they fell together at Velleamant not far from Nauci, the English having obtained that the Horsemen should fight on foot, so as the Bowmen having routed the enemy's Horse, they disordered all the rest, and defeated them, killing 3000. of them, and taking 200. of them prisoners: amongst the which the Bishop of Mets, and the Duke himself who was sent to Bracones upon Salin, a strong Castle of Philip's, whereby reason of the negligence of his subjects, he was a long time captive, and delighting in drawing of pictures. He painted upon the walls of his chamber a great many wafer cakes, which in French are called Oublies, willing by that Hieroglyficke to signify that he was forgotten by his own men; Oublier in French signifying to forget. Those who were before Vademont, understanding by those who had escaped that the battle was lost, and their Duke taken prisoner, rise from before it, fearing to be set upon by the conquerors; and leaving all they had behind them, fled away: but the besieged pursued them, slew and took many of them, ransacked their Camp and returned home rich. To oppose this prosperity, the Lord Willoughby, and Matthew Gough had besieged Saint Silleri, a strong Castle in Anjou with 1500. men, Mounsieur de Lore was Governor thereof, who was at the present absent, and hearing of the danger, gathered forces to succour it. Chatier upon this occasion names Buil, and not Lore, and says that he gave order to the Garrisons of the neighbouring Forts, particularly to those of Loval and Sable, that they should come at an appointed time, who came to the villiage called Vivain, to expect him there where they were set upon: but whether of the two it were, Willoughby being by his spies advertised of their coming, prepared to set upon them, before that being increased they might set upon him. He gave the charge hereof to Matthew Gough, who went away by night with part of the 1500. He found them fast asleep in a place they thought safe, without sentinels; they were wakened by slaughter, and the beating down of their Pavilions, no safety being had but in flight, but having driven them away, they fell themselves into the like carelessness: for busying themselves in binding up their booty, and overtaken by the day, the light discovered the weakness of their forces, so as the fugitives re-assembling themselves, set upon them on the one side, whilst Lore coming up unto them did set upon them on the other side. Gough and Lore were both taken prisoners, but Lore was rescued by the death of 600. English; the French name not the number of their slain, but that about 25. or 30. were taken prisoners, and that Willoughby raising the siege, suffered in his reerward by the besieged. Chartier makes no mention of Lore, as has been said, nor that the English came by night, but that surprising the French as they were at dinner, and they ●…lew and took as many as they pleased of them; and that Buil and Lore coming upon them they were defeated, and 1500. of them slain. A number absolutely false, not so much for that the other writers mention 900. less, as for that the whole number whereof they were but a part exceeded not 1500. But though this loss were considerable, 'twas nothing in comparison of that of Schartres, though not sealed by any English blood. Fourteen years were fully passed since this City had quitted Charles his obedience to side with Burgony, never changing party. So as the obstinacy thereof made it not to pretend remission, nor yet to hope for it by rebellion. The Garrison thereof was but small, not exceeding 120. English, who relying upon the faith of the Inhabitants, left the care of the custody of the town to them. One who was servant to one of Charles his Financiers, was native of Schartres, who besides other kindred had a brother there, who won his living by buying and selling meat, carrying it in a Cart from one place to another, but because the Wars hindered him from trafficking with Orleans a City near at hand, and which imported his profit very much; he entreated his brother to procure him a safe conduct, that he might go and come unmolested by those of the contrary side, having obtained the safe conduct; he met his brother in Orleans, who offering him great rewards, persuaded him to betray the City, as he did; for having won the good will of those who kept the gate, by giving them victuals as he passed too and fro, he entreated them that being to return on Friday morning with a load of fish, they would open the gates betime unto him, that the sun might not spoil his ware, which they willingly promised to do. Without that gate there was a Cellar which he had formerly hired, under pretence of keeping his ware, wherein he had this night hidden a hundred Soldiers, he came with his Cart about the break of day to the gate, calling to them to open unto him, the gate being opened, those who were hidden in the Cellar entered unexpectedly with the Cart, slew the gate keepers, and made them-themselves masters of the gate, giving a sign formerly agreed upon to the Bastard of Orleans, and Mounsieur de Gaucourt, who were hard by with 3000. men, and presently came thither. The English at the first noise hereof knew not what it was. When they heard the enemy was within the City, knowing themselves to be but weak, they saved themselves by the gate that opens upon Eureux. The chief of the Inhabitants (amongst which was the Bishop a great cider with Burgony) certain to be ruined, endeavoured to die with their weapons in their hands. He was slain upon the stairs of his Cathedral Church with 80. more; they took between five and six hundred prisoners, computing those of the Clergy, who were all ransomed, the City was treated as won by conquest, their goods were taken away, their women ravished, and those put to death that had ruled for the English. This loss was of great consequence, which being of inexorable enmity with Charles, should have been more carefully looked unto. They endeavoured at the same time, though not with the same success, to surprise the Castle of Rouen. The Marishall Bousac had corrupted one Peter Andebeefe, borne in Bearne, a Captain in the Castle promising to give him the revenues thereof if he would undertake the enterprise, wherein Andebeefe failed not for as much as in him lay, upon this hope came the Marishall to Beauvois with Messieurs de Fontinees, Movy and joquet, followed by 600. Soldiers, he imparted unto them his design, and finding them willing, he took shelter in a wood, a league distant from Rouen, sending a gentleman named Richarville, who presented himself before the Castle with 120. Soldiers, in all which Company there was not above four or five Horses; they were all by Peter according to his promise brought in, two or three excepted, who stayed to look to the Horses: having slain some sentinels, they won almost the whole Castle, wherein was the Earl of Arundel, who fearing nothing was a sleep in bed. The English who were in the places that were taken, were some of them slain, the rest saving themselves by leaping over the walls into the City. Richerville not able with these alone to win the whole, got on horseback to cause the Marshal come along with the rest, but no persuasions could suffice to persuade any of them, save some that were his friends, nay the booty (not yet won) being in question and not agreed upon, they returned, leaving their companions to the mercy of the sword. Richerville enraged, and knowing that by his return, he could not assist his own men, but rather lose himself, went along with the rest to Beauvois; this mean while those who had gotten in, did what in them lay to make themselves masters of the field gate; but the English in the defence thereof, did so long entertain them till the day appearing, the ruin of the one and safeguard of the others were seen. Many of the English out of the City entered the Castle, and together with them not a few of the Inhabitants, to shun being thought conscious of the treason; so as the assailants were forced to retire themselves into the greatest Tower, wherein having found some victuals, they resolved to keep as long as the victuals lasted. But having defended themselves against innumerable assaults, the Tower being battered and damnified, they likewise having battered and done mischief by artillery, which at their entrance thereinto they dragged after them, they were enforced after twelve days manful defence to surrender themselves upon discretion. A rigorous inquisition being made 1500. Citizens were beheaded, & Peter quartered, what became of the Soldiers that yielded, is not reported by Monstrelet, who makes this relation; but however they deserved better fortune and more faithful associates than the Avaricious cowards who had so shamefully abandoned them; yet do not I believe that this was caused more out of cowardice then out of improvidency, not having thought time enough, upon that which they too late thought upon, to wit, that it was rashness to shut themselves up without victuals or munition, in a place so near unto a great City, which was not likely to lack people from so many neighbouring Garrisons; the which though granted I see not how they are excusable, for these considerations ought to have been had before the exposing of so many valiant men to death; for having exposed them thereunto, they should have run the same hazard they did, it not being likely that such places wherein were abundance of victuals and munition, had not where withal to defend themselves, and live: and that if they had all entered together, they had not made themselves masters of the Castle, since the sixth part of them had almost totally won it. The field gate was to be by them made sure for their last refuge, Beauvois being near at hand, and every small thing sufficient to have made them capable of an honourable capitulation, in so much as a more shameful act of Soldiers, not having been heard not read of, the Captains were worthy of death and degradation, but this just and necessary discipline is not there to be practised, where the Prince's condition is to flatter, not to command the Soldiers, and where his weakness enforces him rather to cloak, then to discover delinquents. The miseries of these wars and the mortal hatred of these two nations had been a cause of pity and scandal to the whole world; which thought it impossible for them to subsist after so much suffering, death, and expenses. England wearied with so many Subsidies (which are unwillingly granted when businesses do not fadge) suffered yet much more through the loss of so many brave men; one supply being the step unto another, the return uncertain and the loss usual. France the seat of misery, scene of Tragedies, sepulchre of Arms, unmanured, ruthful, impoverished; no less by the rapine of her own men, then of enemies, made the school of inhumanity: no sex, age, nor Religion being exempt from injuries and cruelty; was in so deplorable a condition, as that it was not to be succoured but by miracle: and if by any natural means, only by peace, the which Eugenius the fourth well observing to discharge his duty, he resolved to try it. He dispatched away the Cardinal Santa-croce about so holy a work; he came treated, but did nothing at his first coming; both parties seemed to be well disposed; their words in general were complemental, full of honest and good intentions; but those which were in fact essential, were high in demands, resolute to keep what they had, and obstinate in pretensions; so as perceiving he did but lose his time (that he might not return home and do nothing) he concluded a Truce for six years, which (according as was foretold) proved changeable and of short continuance, the more needful France was of rest and quiet, the less prone was she to suffer it. Monstrelet, Chesnes, and Dupleix say not, that it was made with Henry, but with Philip; Polydore, Hallian and Serres affirm it to be made with both Paulus, Aemilius, Chartier, Belleforest, and Giles do not at all mention it. The Cardinal of Winchester went by order from the King to allay some tumults raised there under pretence of Religion by two seditious spirits, William Mandeville and john Sharp, who endeavoured to insinuate two things into men's hearts, that the Clergy should possess nothing, & that the lay people should by way of charity have all things common amongst them, a superfluous division, the last article being sufficient; for that which was pretended from the one was indifferently demanded of all, the direct way to introduce carelessness and sloth amongst the people instead of Charity, and to punish Industry, virtue and all good acts. They were severely punished, their extravagant and contagious opinions ceasing with them. The Cardinal was to return to France with provision of Soldiers and money, the truce not thought likely long to continue, whereupon a Parliament being called the Duke of Gloucester took order for this business, as likewise to the concluding a peace with the King of Scotland: who being troubled with home dissensions had sent Ambassadors to demand it, for it made little for his purpose to have war abroad and at home, whilst France as he believed, had by means of this truce laid down arms. But I wonder that Buchanan and Ascu make no mention at all hereof: The King and Regent were at Rouen, when the Cardinal came thither. Consultation was had what was to be done, the soldier's expense in time of truce, as in time of war seemed superfluous to some, the wisest amongst which the three Dukes, of Bedford, York & Somerset, did not only dissuade from lessoning the Soldiers, but would have their numbers increased, to the end that if a breach should happen, as was expected they might have forces enough to end the enterprise, or at least to make good what they had won; for the ordinary provision did not resolve the war, but did only draw it out in length with danger of losing what they with so much expense of blood and coin had already won. But the appearing good of sparing prevailed over the other more essential one, though it was not afterwards put in execution, the regulating of companies being deferred till the truce was broken. The King this mean while went to Calais, & from thence to England, where he was received with great solemnity and joy. But the Soldier's sorry to live under the Laws of France, the Garrison of Calais accustomed to pillage, mutinied, not alleging the want 1432. of pillage for their cause (though it were so) but the smalnesse of their pay, not able to maintain them; the Regent hasted thither, & putting four of the most seditious to death, cashiering and banishing some, and putting others in their place, appeased the rest. The Duchess his wife, sister to Philip was some months before dead, the only preserver of that lukewarm intelligence, which after so many ill satisfactions remained between them; so as going to Terrovane, he there married the daughter of Peter de Luxenburg; Count Saint Paul, one who was no great friend of Philip's; this he did not giving Philip any account at all thereof, increasing the former distastes by the little account he seemed to make of him, since being his Ally and confederate, he had pretermitted those offices with him, which among friends and Princes who are friends, use not upon like occasion to be pretermitted; the last occasion save one of severing him wholly from England. According to the opinion of the wisest, the truce in stead of six years lasted but six months. Charles his people deprived of their prey and accustomed to Rapine, could not live upon the air; the greatest and worst part of them were handicrafts men, and country people, who wont to the sword, scorned to turn back to the Blow, Harrow and Pickax. The first beginnings were pilfer and robberies, from whence they came to the taking of men, and setting them to ransom; but this they did only with the Burgonians, till such time as having taken free liberty, they shocked likewise against the English. So as their insolences causing reprisals, and those reprisals encounters, so as the War was as easily kindled again as are firebrands, which full of vapour and smoke suck the flame unto them, the parties offended knew they could not be righted but by arms, and that all appeals, as untimely refuges would be ridiculous, so as interchangeably and with the liking, as I think of both parties, they threw themselves upon all inconveniences. The French took S. Valleri in the mouth of the River, some confining upon Normandy, a little distant from Abbeville, seated on the other side of the River, and with diversity of fortune made many attempts and conquests in Anjou and Maine. Ambrogius de Lore being gone from St. Scelerin with 700. men passed over the River Orne; he went towards Caen to surprise the Fair, which was held every Saint Michael's day before S. Stevens Church in the fields; he divided his 700. he kept a 100 Crossebowmen, and 50. Horse with himself, with the which he placed himself between the Fair and Caen, to beat back those of the Garrison, if they should sally forth to hinder his design. He sent the rest to the place of business which succeeded luckily unto them, for the English ignorant of what was done came not forth, and none being in the Fair but buyers and sellers, they found no opposition; the booty was rich, with which repassing over the Orne, he made a scrutiny of the prisoners, he detained such as were ransomable, which were 800. and suffered the rest to depart home, which were in number 2000 The Regent seeing, that by the open breach of Truce, Laignes hindered the commerce and victuals which were brought to Paris, sent the Earl of Arundel to besiege it; he gave him 1200. soldiers, and for his companions the Earl of Warwick's son, and Monsieur de Lilleadam who was Marishall of France for Henry, but little good could be done; his forces were but few, and the place was well provided for: so as having by Canon shot broken one of the Arches of the bridge which crossed Marne, and burned the Ravelin finding himself the weaker in assaults, and the number of the besieged if not more, at least as many as he, he raised the siege, whereupon the Regent was forced to go thither himself with 6000. men; he fortified himself in a great Park near unto the Walls; he threw a bridge over the Marne. His Canon played where it was requisite to make breaches for an assault: he to his loss assaulted the place, which was defended by Guermede Fanculdus, and Reynald of Saint john, all brave Gentlemen. He for all this slacked not his rain, but was resolved to win it, if not by sword, by famine on the other side. Charles knowing how much it imported, dispatched away a succour of 6000. men with great store of victuals, under the conduct of the Bastard of Orleans. Monsieur de Rieux Marishall of France, john Straigle brother to Potone, Stephen de Vignolles, surnamed lafoy Hira, Roderigo Villandras a Spaniard, Monsieur de Coulant Admiral of France, and Gaucourt Governor of Daupheny: these Gentlemen made a proud appearance at their first coming, the Regent kept himself within his fortifications, not suffering any one to go forth; the next day, he sent to offer them battle, they deny it; and say that being drawn forth to skirmish many of the French were hurt, slain, and taken prisoners: amongst the which john Straigle for one, but that the besieged sallying forth, and the English fight with them, the French set upon them behind, and defeated them, entering the City with victuals: and that Bedford coming forth to hinder them, the business was so intricate, as that the one knew not the other, in so much as the heat being very great (it was on Saint Laurence his day) many being suffocated in their armour, the Regent in all haste was glad to save himself within his Park, that Gaucourt entering the City the next day, and the other Captains having made a bridge of boats over Marne, they passed over into the Isle of France, and took many Forts there: so as the Duke fearing to loose Paris by reason of the people's bad inclination, raised the siege in all haste, leaving his Engines, Provisions, and Pavilions behind him, and was pursued by the besieged who slew a great number of his men, and took many prisoners, returning back to the City rich in Arms and Horses. Dupleix more than the rest, is pleased to add unto the good or bad according to his love or hatred; says, that he rise as shamefully from before Laigni, as john de Luxenburg did from before Compaigne; and that being valiantly assaulted by the Constable Richmont, he readily passed over the River, and shut himself up in Paris. As for Compaigne, judgement may be made by what is to be alleged, how equivocal and full of malice the comparison is. For the Constable no man names him but Chartier, who though a Writer that lived in those days, hath as some that live in these days his oppositors. And if he say, that Bedford did return to Paris, he concludes not, that he shut himself up there, for to return, and to shut oneself up are too much differing terms. For what remaineth I mean not to use the authority of any of the English Authors, though with all just men, their authority ought to be as much credited as what the French say. I allege Monstrelet as a neuter, though by Country, language, and faction he be to be reputed French, his words are these; The Duke prepared to fight with the French who came upon him, and that he might the better do it, he sent for men out of other places that were under him. He than sent some of his officers to signify to the French that he was ready to fight with them, notwithstanding all their aids, if they would appoint a day for that purpose; To the which they made no answer, save that with the grace of God they would at their leisure, and when they should best think fitting, accomplish their enterprise. And afterwards describing his retreat to Paris, he saith, he afterwards assembled his people, and marched to where the Frenchmen were, to offer them battle once more, but their answer was as before, they had done what they came for: The English do not deny, that he raised the siege, fearing least otherwise he might lose Paris, but not driven away nor in flight. They say he offered battle, which the French affirm not, nor will suffer others to affirm it, that he continued his siege after the enemy was gone; that he retired, not for that a fictious constable made him shamefully pass over the Marne, but because the reason of War would have him so to do; that he went to Paris to secure himself thereof, not to shut himself up, that he defied the enemy the second time, that he failed not in the duty of a good Soldier, and if he met with evil fortune so long as it was not through cowardice (which is, that which Dupleix would insinuate) malice itself hath not where withal to defame him. The ill success of Laigni was in some sort recompensed by the retaking of Valery, which was not long before taken by the French; the opposers were Peter de Luxenburg Count de Saint Paul; & the Lord Willoughby the Defendants Messieurs de Voucourt de la Torre, and de Verseil. But after three weeks stout defence, they yielded, their horses and baggage saved, the Town soon after lost two thirds of her inhabitants, by reason of a contagious pestilence caused by the corruption of the victuals they had eaten. This was the last of the Count Saint Paul's actions. He died near to Blangi, when having set down his time to be at the Chasteau de Monchas, and taken order for the siege of Rembarres, he was seized upon by one of those indispositions which nature sends us, when she pretends to claim from us what we owe her. His obsequies were solemnised in the Metropolitan Cities of both the Kingdoms, as to the Duke of Bedford's Father in Law. His son Lewis succeeded him both in title and possessions; a young man, not then above 15. years old, who grown to riper years, served for a witness, that cunning woven with infidelity and dissimulation, hath always been mortal: for having forsaken England, and being by Charles the eleventh created Constable, he ended his life by the Hangman's hand for having been unfaithful to him in his service. The French failed not to do all the mischief they could. La Hire accompanied by many Gentlemen, and by 1500. Soldiers took Somme, and therein a great number of Prisoners, by whose ransoms the Soldiers did better maintain themselves, than by their pay. He afterwards divided them, and sent part of them into the Country of Cambrey, where they assailed Haspre, a great concourse of people being come thither by reason of free feast. They set upon it at unawares, and took some Prisoners, affording leisure for such as were of better condition to save themselves within a great and strong Tower, so as having sacked the Town, burnt the Church, and Abbey, and many Houses; they retired to Mount Saint Martin, where lafoy Hire expected them; who having this mean while burnt Beaurevoire, and la Motta a house of pleasure, belonging to the Countess de Laigni being reunited to them, did infinite mischief in the Country, not meeting with any opposition; as he before so resaw he should not, for john de Luxenburgh Count de Laigni, and Count S. Paul his nephew, being diverted from those affairs, by reason of the old Count Peter his Brother, there was none other, that could withstand him, in so much as having scoured the Champion, burnt Houses, and made great booty; he went to Laon to divide the prey, all his men returning rich unto their Garrisons, and not one man of them lost. Paunesach a Captain of Laon paid for these losses: for being one that did emulate or rather envy the others good fortune, he phancied unto himself the like success. He went towards Marle with 400. Soldiers, intending to surprise Veruins, which belonged to Giovanna de Bar, daughter in law to the above named john de Luxenburg; but as soon as he had begun to set fire on the suburbs of Marle near unto Veruins; john came up unto him, (who upon the first advertisement came, together with his nephew) with all possible speed to interrupt him, and gave him battle. Monstrelet says, that john did wonders in his own Person, that he alone would have been able to have beaten the enemy, had they been more in number, than they were. He slew about 160. of them, took 80. of them prisoners, the greatest part whereof were hanged the next day: and to flesh his nephew, he made him kill some of them; the which he did with such dexterity, and took such delight in embruing his hands in blood, as he gave open testimony of his natural bad inclination; a cruel custom, and not to be practised. We are naturally too apt to do evil, though some are of an opinion, that a Soldier cannot be a perfect warrior, unless he be perfectly cruel. Others attribute this work to Willoughby and Kerill, sent by the Regent as soon as he heard the French had entered the upper Burgony, that it was they that slew the 160. recovering those places to Philip, which he had formerly lost. At this time the Lord Talbot was returned from England with 800. men, and having taken the way of Rouen to go to Paris, he by the way set upon joing, a Castle seated between Beauvois and Giz●…, he destroyed it, and hanged up the Inhabitants. Being come to Paris, his army was increased by some troops, commanded by the Marishall de Lilliadam, and Monsieur d'Orveille, where withal he took and raised Beaumond upon the Oyse. By composition, he recovered the City and Castle of Creil, held by Amadore de Vignelles. Pont Saint Massens, Nonaville, and Casaresse, yielded unto him, he took by force the City of Crespi in Valois, and recovered Clerimont which was formerly taken by the enemies. He thought to have assayed Beauvois, but finding it in a condition not to be enforced. With so few numbers, he returned with great booty to Paris. In pursuit of this good fortune, the Earl of Arundel went to besiege Bommolins, which being surrendered, he destroyed. He went to Orle in the County of maine, and playing upon it with his Canon, he had it upon composition. But being gone towards Saint Selerine, Monsieur de Lore believing that he came to charge him, came forth into the field, and surprised him; Giles says, that he slew about 80. or 100 of his men, and made the rest run away, being for the space of an hour Master of the Artillery, victuals and tents; but that the English making head again, did again charge upon them, though he returned with 80. horse and many prisoners: The English say, that being set upon at unawares, they gave back about a bow-shoot, that being encouraged by the Earl, they slew a great many of them, and enforced the rest to save themselves within the City; Disagreements which will not permit judgement to be passed upon the business. And yet as it seemeth to me Giles himself doth explain it, for if the French were Masters of the artillery, baggage and tents for an hour; the permitting them to be taken from them, makes it clear unto us, that they who took them last had the advantage; the remainder resting doubtful, whether they retreated or fled, with the booty of horses and prisoners, as Giles reports, or rather whether their only gain was the safeguard of themselves. He, and Hallian do both report that about 12000. of the English besieged the City of Louviers, wherein were the two brothers lafoy Hire and Amadore de Vignolles, Florence d'Illiers, Ghirard de la Paliera and many others, who all did valiantly defend themselves, but not able to withstand so great a number, they yielded the City, and the Walls thereof were thrown down. They name not the main who did command in chief in this great number of men, whilst in the like, and in actions of lesser consequence they omit not the name of any one particular Captain, for since they would have the Earl of Arundel to be routed, if they should name him here, they would call in question the first defeat. The English say, that it was he who besieged Louviers, and that it was yielded unto him without the striking of a blow, that it was in his return to Saint Selerin, that he had so powerful an army; Louviers being fallen into his hands, when he had only his first ordinary forces. That he besieged Saint Selerin for three Months together, at the end whereof he took it by force, and therein took Monsieur de Lore's son's prisoners, and slew john d' Armagne, William the Saint Aubin, both of them Captains, and 800. of the garrison; Giles and Hallian confess the three Month's siege, and the assault wherein the two Captains were taken, but in stead of saying it was taken, they say it was like to be taken, and that the besieged, not being succoured, were enforced to surrender the Town, to receive safe conduct, and to march away on foot, not carrying any thing along with them, Chartier, Goguinus, and Dupleix say, that he took it, and Serres, that he took it by force; so as if the English Writers needed to prove the truth of what they say, it would be made good by the contradiction of their adversaries: from hence the Earl went to the siege of Silli, which is by them related with like inequality. Giles says, that the captain thereof articled to surrender up the place, in case that he were not succoured, or that the Earl were not fought withal within 15. days, and that hereupon, he gave him hostages. That the Duke d' Alencon, Charles d' Anjou, the Count de Richmont, the Marishall of France, Messieurs de Lokhac, and Graville, who at the importunity of Monsieur de Lore had gathered a great army to succour Saint Selerin, made use thereof to succour Silly: that the English went to meet them, that the French came to a little village called Lonvell, and were only parted from the enemy by a little River; that great skirmishes were there made; that finding them to be in an advantageous place, they would not set upon them; that about evening, they sent word by a Herald to the Earl of Arundel, that he should either come forth to battle, or else give back his hostages, the which being received; they departed, and that the English seeing themselves free, returned too before Silli, and took it by a fierce assault. The rest differ not from him; but add, that in their Articles the besieged specified, that the English should quarter themselves near such an Elm and fight there, that whereunto the besieged were obliged (according to Giles) was, to surrender themselves if the Town were not succoured, or the English fought withal, neither of both which ensued. To fight belonged to the French, for they were to free the Town: The English were to keep from fight if they could, and to inhibit succour; so as the French not able to do the one, should have tried the other, which they did not. That the Earl of Arundel should give up the hostages, was a piece of obedience not to be believed: for since they could not fight with him, they could not force him in this point; that they should depart having received the hostages, without putting them into Silli, or succouring the Town, argues either simplicity (which was not likely to be in such personages) or want of strength, and is not sufficient to excuse their retreat; for say that the Earl had delivered up his hostages, the more reason had they had to have kept the field, to show themselves masters thereof, and to have seen the enemy first gone, that they might have secured the town: for what concerns the Elm, the besieged may by agreement prefix the day of succour, but not the place of combat; for that were to teach him what to do who was to hinder their being succoured, whose advantage it was to work his ends without danger, or bloodshed. Two armies equally resolved to fight, may appoint a time & place that they may know where to meet, not out of any advantage; but such appointments happen not between besiegers and besieged, for the besieged have only two things to look unto; necessity which enforceth them, and reputation which makes them do their utmost endeavour; which when they have satisfied; their being, or not being succoured, belongs no more to them, since by yielding they are freed from necessity, and 'tis not likely that the besiegers together with the prolongation of time (which was much to their disadvantage) would accept of a disadvantageous place, whereby to be cut in pieces. But this invention is like to that of the Duke of Orleans, which hath been spoken of, who being taken prisoner in the battle of Aincourt, where there neither was necessity, reason, nor yet time for capitulation: those who were besieged in Orleans did notwithstanding allege, that by express agreement, his territories were to be exempted from the damage of war, during his imprisonment, whilst no such condition complies with the nature of war, nor can be witnessed by any precedent. The English say, that when the succour appeared (the term whereof was not 15. but 30. days) they of their own accord delivered up the hostages to those of Silli, according to their Articles; that they stood in face of the enemy, without any skirmishing, or any show of battle, that the French departed by night, as if afraid: whereupon Silli surrendered itself according to promise without assault or blood. The Earl ended these his proceedings with the taking of Millay, and Saint Laurence de Mortiers, so as having in hostile manner succoured the country of Main, he retired, sending his men to their wont Garrisons. Not long after a good part of the lower Normandy rise in insurrection against the English; a fire as easily extinguished as it was lightly kindled: They were all countrymen, inhabitants upon the coast of that sea, a Monstrous body, a beast of few arms, all head, under the conduct of the Marishall de Rochefort, Walter de Brusack, and Charles de Mares (who came with some troops of horse to sustain them) they took deep, Fescampe, Harfleur, Monstrevillier, Tancherville, and all the country of Caux, except Arques and Candebec. But going afterwards themselves alone towards Caen, to encourage and incite the malcontents; The Dukes of Somerset and York who commanded that Province, dispatched away the Earl of Arundel, and the Lord Willoughby with 6000. bowmen, and 1300. horse to take order with them. The Earl who had notice which way they went, sent Willoughby with part of the troops before, to light upon them in the way, not fearing their numbers, and hoping that the condition of an ill guided rabble, would win him the day, as it did: for Willoughby lying in Ambush, as soon as they appeared, he set upon them, having formerly agreed upon a sign with the Earl, so as being set upon before and behind, they threw away their arms, and cried for pardon; the Earl moved to compassion, forbade the kill of them; yet could he not so readily be obeyed, but that about 1000 of them were slain. The heads of the insurrection were detained, and afterwards severely punished; the rest were suffered to return to their own homes, having to their cost learned the difference between the handling of the Mattocke and the Sword; the conquest of the forenamed places was not of long continuance after this; for the Commanders who were therein left, being of this summy multitude, behaved themselves so insolently, as that the country revolted from them, and by reason of their rustic tyranny recalled the English; so as this threatening storm was soon blown over. john de Bressay Lieutenant to the Marshal de Rieux, had taken the Fort of Rue, a loss of great consequence to the English, the country lying thereby open to incursions; even to Estaples and Monstrolle; which caused the Duke to commit the recovery thereof to the said Earl, who with 800. men undertook this enterprise; but being come to Gourney he altered his resolution: An old Fort called Gerberoy was seated between Gournay and Beauvois, dismantled and ruinated a little before. And because the situation thereof was convenient to suppress the enemy's incursions into the country of Beauvois, La Hire had order for the rebuilding of it. The Earl not thinking that in so short a space it could be in any condition of defence, for he thought to ruinate it in the beginning of its being re-edified, before that being built and fortified it might be the harder to be won. He thought suddenly to have dispatched the business, not knowing that La Hire was there in person with a great many soldiers, so as leaving his foot behind him, which followed him at leisure, he advanced with his horse which were not above 500 La Hire seeing him appear with so few horse, and those wearied, resolved to set upon him, before his bowmen should come up unto him. And to make the Earl the more confident, he sent forth 50. horse, as if there had been no more in the Castle. The Earl sent Sir Ralph Standish with 100 horse to encounter them, who had hardly begun the skirmish, when the rest that were within the Castle sallied forth, slew him and his companions, and without any interposition of time set upon the Earl, who, as he was manfully fight, was defeated by a Culverin, which being shot among the thickest of his men, swept away a great many of them, and at the second shot, broke the Earl's leg above his ankle, who in a swound fell from his horse, and was taken prisoner with Woodville and a hundred other horse. Two hundred were slain, the rest saved themselves by flight. The Earl was carried to Beauvois, where within a few days he died. His loss was as much bewailed as his valour (had he lived) was full of expectation and hope. He was the fifth Earl of Arundel, of the noble house of Fitsallen. Six others of the same succeeded him, the last of which was Henry, who dying without heirs male, the Earldom and the title fell upon Philip Howard, eldest son to Thomas Duke of Norfolk, and Mary his wife, daughter to the said Henry. This Thomas was father to the now present Earl of Arundel, Earl Martial of England, who married the Lady Alithea, daughter to Gilbert Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewesbury, lineally descended from Iohn●…ord ●…ord Talbot, of whom we have spoken in this our story. I was willing to ●…ist upon this particular here, which I desire may not be imputed to me as a superfluous digression, but rather to the gratitude which from me and all Italy is due unto them both. Ten years were past since the battle of Aiencourt, where and since when, the Duke of Bourbon was prisoner in England, when having paid his ransom of 18000. pounds' sterlin, the very day destinied for his return, he was seized upon by his last infirmity, which brought him to his grave, dying a free man, after having lived so long a captive. The confederacy, friendship and affinity of the two cousins Bedford and Burgony, were come to the period of their dissolution, not so much for the death of the ones wife, the others sister, as for that the distastes caused by divers passages between them had afforded field-roome to such as desired a breach between them, to whisper such tales in both their ears, as being supposed to be spoken in the prejudice of each other, could by neither of them be taken in good part, but with a great resentment of their honours; an Idol which amongst imaginary deities (especially between Princes) is the most supreme, though as too suspiciously false, sometimes with much loss too much idolatrised, friends enterposed themselves, but 'twas not sufficient; the gangrened sores of their souls were not to be cured by Lenities. A meeting between them was treated of, out of hopes that by an interview and speech together, they might come to understand one another's mind, better than by reports, 'twas obtained; Saint Omers was named and agreed upon for the place. A place which belonging to Philip redounded to his honour, since Bedford went to him, not he to Bedford. Bedford came thither first, whilst Philip being in his own dominion, and his own house should have been there, to have met and welcomed him. But he was so far from doing this, that though he came last, he pretended to be the first visited. Perhaps a just pretention in a neutral place, he being the last comer thither. For as for other respects which give precedency to Princes, there goes not much difficulty to the deciding of the question. Bedford had two which argue for his precedency, the one casual and but for a time; the other borne with him, and whereof he could not be bereft. His regency of France was that which was casual, and therefore I build not upon it, as well for that Philip might have been regent if he had so pleased; (though what might have been, gives place to what is) as likewise, for that France held it an unjust, usurped dignity; though he ought not to esteem it so who held Henry for King of France, for that that was borne with him, and whereof he could not be bereft: Bedford was the Son, Brother, and Uncle of a King. And took these prerogatives from him (superior without question to any thing, that Philip could allege) they were in their genealogies equal. For if john King of France were great Grandfather to Philip, Edward the third King of England was the like to Bedford, and if any difference be made between the Princes of the blood in France, and the Princes of the blood in England, (where there is no such title by Law, the former being privileged by the pretended Salic Law, the latter not, since women do succeed) 'tis a reason whereof Philip ought make no use, since that Law was by him broken, and so much the less against Bedford, as that if Henry should die without heirs, he was the next presumed heir to the Crown. In titles they were alike, in sovereignty and peculiar power Philip was before him. But if sovereignty were ever to precede, there are little sovereign Lords, and no Princes, who should take place of great Princes who are no sovereign Lords: and power which contributes advantage, doth nor contribute degrees of dignity. But let all be granted, civility will not permit the affecting of the best place in a man's own house, but rather wills that it be given always to our equals, yea sometimes to our inferiors. To end this difference Philip propounded, that the business might be discussed by third persons, which Bedford would not condescend unto, so as parting without the sight of one another, their friendship was broken, and all memorial of their former affinity were canceled, wherein if the English lost all, he got not much, for one would think, that in the fall of this great tree, he should have seized upon one of the greatest boughs for himself, the which if he had not formerly done, the fault was his, since he by their assistance (which did divert those who might have troubled him) obtained territories elsewhere; to the unjust and violent possession whereof (I mean Hannault, Holland, Zealand, and Friesland) he had never come (their natural Princes being alive) if France had been at liberty. He had sundry times given fast signs of this his bad inclination, especially when (notwithstanding the heat of war) he was contented, that his brother in law the Count de Richmont, should receive the sword of Constableship, and that Charles de Bourbon (the now Duke, a great cider with King Charles, and an implacable enemy of the English) should marry his sister Agnis, powerful means for the accommodation, which his delays did not cut off, but defer. He had thus two strings to his bow. Moreover when the council of Basil had sent the Cardinals of Cyprus and Arles, to exhort the two Kings to peace, he resolved to do it himself alone, the forenamed Cardinals and the Archbishop of Rheims Chancellor of France for Charles, being gone to Nevers to speak with him about this, where it was resolved that the general treaty should be held at Arras. Likewise in the heat of this treaty the Bastard of Orleans would not have adventured to have taken Saint Denis, neither would Charles have sent him his assent from Tours, where he than was, whilst he desiring nothing more than to pacify Philip, had feared to displease him, and though some of Philip's men went afterwards to the recovery of Saint Denis, yet it behoved him so to dissemble the business, but the injustice of the one doth not make good the others fault. Philip played his part excellently well, he wrought things according to his own inclination and proper interest, and whilst he did wrong unto others, did none unto himself. Bedford played his part very ill, he followed his own inclination, but not his interest, and walking in the path of reason, was unjust unto his King, unto himself, and unto the cause. His duty had been to have contented Philip, though he had no reason for it, dissimulation is requisite in him who pretends to reign. All punctuallities are vain if unuseful, and foolish if harmful. He was deceived in presuming he could do that when he should have him his enemy, which all the while he could not do when he was his friend; for though whilst his friend he helped him but a little, (being busied about his own affairs) yet when he turned enemy, he harmed him sufficiently. Humane means are more able to do hurt then good. Facilis descensus averni, (saith the Poet) the descent to hell is easy, the gates thereof stand wide open day and night, all the difficulty is in getting out again. The Remora, a small Fish doth stop a ship though under full sail. Philip being both a Remora and a Whale, could much more easily stop the course of this ship (partly interrupted before) and sink it as he did. A good opinion of ones own strength if it be not matched with the undervaluing of another's is commendable, and assists in enterprises, but where despisall entereth, there entereth presumption which doth subvert it. If Bedford erred not in this, all the evils which did derive from thence, ensued contrary to all rules. The Bastard of Orleans had intelligence in Saint Denis with one Regnauld de St. john, a Gentleman borne in the Isle of France, who gave him notice how he might surprise it. Whereupon he sent Captain Deinville with sufficient troops thither, who scaled the walls by night and made himself master of it. A purchase of such consequence (as being upon the very gates of Paris) as it invited both sides, the one to keep it, the other to recover it. The Bastard as soon as he was advertised of this, hasted thither together with the Marshal Rochfort; but finding the Marshal Rieux there, & being certain that the English would not fail to besiege it, he left him there, & went himself to raise men to succour it. Monsieur de Flani, Governor of Campaigne being come up unto him, with those of the County of Valois, to divert the enemy, he took Howdan, Pont de St. Mesense, and Meulan; losses which were not sufficient to fetch the English thither; who having laid siege to St. Denys, under the command of the Lord Talbot, accompanied by Monsieur de Lilliadam and others. The Constable, the Count D●…voise, Monsieur de Loheac, the Bastard of Bourbon, Chabannes, Illiers, Termes, La Palliere, Mascaron, Biull, who had all joined themselves together to this purpose, durst not set upon him; so as Martial de Rieux, (after having lost Renauld de St. john, who had betrayed the town, and Dianegius de Vaucourt, who were both slain, and those upon whom he did most rely) was enforced to yield up the town, upon honourable conditions. The walls of the town were beaten down, unless it were on the side next the Abbey, the Tower de Veneno being kept in its former being, under the custody of Simon de Morior, son to the Provost of Paris, with a proportionable number of English Soldiers under him. THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND IN THE LIFE OF HENRY THE six. THe commonly embraced opinion, that the World grows every day worse and worse, is proved false, in that evils have the same vicessitude amongst men, as hath the Summer and Winter amongst seasons; with this difference notwithstanding, that whereas the seasons of the year are regulated by the certain course of the Sun, to the end that we may be prepared to receive the benefits thereof, the course of evils is uncertain, to the end that being taken unawares, we may receive the mischief thereof: the former ordained by divine providence for our conservation, the latter destined by heaven's justice, for our punishment, wars, and peace, health and diseases, turbulent and quiet Spirits, have been in all times so, as who will examine history will find, that there is no evil in these present times, which hath not been in former ages; The distinction of ages ciphered forth by the difference of gold and other metals are Poetical inventions, mere dreams, there is no common wealth which had not sundry times experimented this, who corrupteth good government, the Author of the golden age falls not into the lowest station of degrees, but head long tumbling from gold to lead without passage through the intermediums of silver and iron: Murder was found between the first Brothers, whilst the World was yet in it swaddling clout's, rapes, whoredom's incest's, and other worse sins, did with the swiftest motion glide into such as descended from them: they were not borne, with us we derive them from them. Wars, insolences, and oppressions, did with the swiftest motion pass to the last of ages from the first, so as the World if not in substance, may yet by accident be said to be better, for being more equally divided, and the ways of offence and defence grown general, it falls out, that the progress of violence waxing slower, some are quiet for that they know not how to disquiet others, otherwise second Nimrods' would not be wanting to succeed the first to the prejudice of mortals, the golden age cannot be granted, unless you will allow of natural original justice, which (at least according to holy writ) was never found in any age, for this cause was it that civil constitutions were invented, discipline advanced, and commerce established, to the end that people being kept in awe by the laws, for fear of punishment, men's minds amended by the use of arts and sciences for the love of virtue, and alured to concord by reason of the commodity of traffic: Our age might rather be thought the age of gold than the formerly pretended; since there are no more vices now, then have been heretofore, and the extraordinary violences of those former times do cease, ordinary ones not being to be taken away, no more than are men's affections, for that nature cannot be withstood, and man is in the first rank of fierce creatures, composed of senses and inclinations little less than like to them: and yet more harmful, did not reason the mother of virtue prevail in some of them, and fear the moderator of vices refrain the most of them. The Kingdom of France was by the universal consent of all, fallen into the iron age, and England though she had the active part, yet the subject whereon she had to work being hard and apt to resist, made her subject to repercussions, so as by doing mischief, she mischieved herself, whilst fortune uncertain in her windeings, did by apparent dangers render the event ambiguous, to fight upon an others ground, was the advantage of the one, to fight favoured by the people the advantage of the other, their disadvantages were equally divided, the one and the other did reciprocal damages, so as the Christian looker on could not but pity them, and fervently desire peace between them. Pope Eugenius the sixth, was he who did most of all desire this, it behoved him to endeavour it, the title of universal Father, and 1435. the affairs of Christendom enforced him to it, for Christendom could hardly evade the ruin threatened her by the Turks, who having envaded Europe in the year 1363. after having taken Philippopolis Philippopolis, Andrenopolis. Serviae, Bulgaria, Vallatchia. Di. Bittinia in Thracia. Di. Prussia in Andrinopoli. and Andrenopolis in a few years had made themselves Masters of Servia, Bulgaria, Valacchia, and little less than all Slavonia, and in the year 1412. Mahomet first having transported the regal seat from Prussia in Britinnia to Andrenopolis in Thracia conquered Macedonia and extended his empire even to the jonique Sea: he left it to Ammurath the first with the same design of the conquest of Christendom a thing easily conceived by a proud heart and not impossible to be effected by a warlike Prince, whose power and fortune corresponding, it was not easily discerned whether were greater in him, and to those who apprehended the danger they were a like terrifying, whereupon the Pope not knowing how to withstand them, but by uniting the Christian Princes, he sent the Cardinal Santa Croce to procure the agreement in the assembly, which was appointed at Arras, the Council assembled together at Bazill, did the like by the Cardinal Cyprus accompanied by many Prelates; England sent thither the Cardinal of Winchester, the Archbishops of York, the Earls of Huntingdon and Suffolk, the Bishops of Norwich St. David and Lisieux: France the Duke of Burbone, the Constable, the Count Vandosme, the Archbishop of Rheimes, and many other of the Counsel: The Emperor, the Kings of Cyprus, Portugal, Castaile, Sicily, Navarre, Polonia, Denmark, and the Dukes of Britain and Savoy, sent thither their Ambassadors, though unrequested on Henry's behalf, the sovereignty of France was demanded on Charles, that Henry should renounce the title of the King of France, and that he should possess Normandy, and whatsoever he did possess at the present in Guienne but this with homage, and under the sovereignty of Charles, and the Crown of France; the just opposite to which each of them did pretend, so as the two Cardinals perceiving no means how to agree them, nor how to make them lay down their Arms: The English Ambassadors departed, but Philip made an agreement, being come thither to that purpose, and the French with resolution of giving him content; the articles were what satisfaction Charles should give, for the death of john Duke of Burgundy. They conceived words that he should say in his excuse, punishments for as many as were thereof guilty, and present banishment for the absent, either sort of them to be named by Philip, a Church to be built in Monberea, and a Charter house with annual means befitting the Church and vestry, and livelihood for twelve Monks and a superior, 50000. Alavenente 3. Crowns for the jewels that were taken away from the dead Duke, and a reservation for Philip to recover the rest which were not named, more particularly the fleece esteemed of a great value than followed the articles of such places as were to be delivered up unto him, the Counties of Maseon Xaintonge in inheritance to him and those who Mascone. should descend from him, whether male or female, together with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging, jurisdictions, prerogatives, patronages by Law; nominating of offices, taxes, Magazines of salt, Impatronato La Castellania. and other things of like nature. The City of Auxerres, and the precincts thereof, with all the abovesaid preeminences, the jurisdiction of Bar upon the Seine, together with the City Castell, and all thereunto belonged, the Law patronage of the Church and Abbey of Luexeule; pretended unto but never possessed by the Dukes of Burgundy, Peronia, Mondedier, Rome, and all Cities on either side the Soane, Saint Quintine, Corbie, Amiens, Abbeville; the county of Pontian, Dourlens San Requior Creuxcore, Arleux Montague, and all the other places belonging as properly to the Crown of France, as those pretended unto by the Emperor in Artois and Hamault. Charles reserving nothing to himself but homage and sovereignty with this condition, that all that were named with Perone, and after Perone should be understood as ransomable for 400000. Crowns, which was afterwards in the time of Lewis the eleventh one of the causes of his distaste with Duke Charles, who was son to Philip, and did succeed him: To these were added the counties of Guiennes, Bolognia, and Burgony for him and his heirs male, free from fealty, homage, or service; the like was to be understood of all the other towns of importance of the crown, which for the present or for the time to come, were to fall to him by inheritance, or succession during his life, after which the sovereignty should return unto the King, and their subjection unto his heir, according to the several nature of their entailers: And in case the English should wage war with him, Charles was obliged to assist him by sea and land, as in his own particular cause, nor was he to make peace with them, unless he therein comprehended him; and that if Charles should break this agreement, his subjects should not be bound to obey him, but being freed from all oaths, they should obey and serve him against Charles himself. Lastly, that Charles Count Caralois son to Philip should marry Katherine King Charles his third daughter, and have with her in portion 120000. crowns, a marriage which was not consummated till about four years after, by reason of both their tender years, for when she died, eleven years after this leaving no children behind her, she was not above eighteen years old. This was the rate which Charles bought Philip's friendship, a bargain very advantageous to him, notwithstanding all ' its disadvantages, for his friendship was not to be bought at too great a rate, since being freed from the English and his kingdom restored; his son Lewis recovered what he with an opportune incommodity had alienated, the which if the English had in any sort imitated, they had not lost France, for Philip was their only Pillar whereupon their Fabric was to rely, but trusting more upon their own forces than was convenient, and being more jealous of him then they ought to have been, they seconded their hatred, whilst anger harmful in government, for want of requisite dissimulation, causeth irreperable ruin, wherein if any one shall think that I contradict myself, since I have elsewhere been of another opinion, he will be of another mind, if he consider when I treated thereof, it was touching the legality thereof, where now 'tis touching the expediency by which humane actions ought chiefly to be regulated. Philip sent a King at Arms to give an account of this peace in England, changing the wont stile in his letter which he sent to Henry, for whereas before he styled the King of France and England his Lord and master, in these he termed him only King of England, his well-beloved Cousin. The contents thereof was, that being overcome by entreaties of the Pope, of the Fathers of the Counsel of Bazille, & of all the Princes of Christendom, he had made peace with Charles to shun the being thought cruel and implacable, he desired him likewise to do the like, to the end he might be numbered amongst the authors of public tranquillity, offering to serve him therein. The Ambassador was not permitted to see the King, but sent back without any letters, what could be said to the greatest enemy, was said to him by word of mouth; wherein they forbeared not to call Philip perjured traitor, and this news being divulged in the City, the people not able to revenge themselves of Philip, vented their fury upon his subjects, who for traffic sake had their abodes in London, they slew many of them, and would have slain them all, had not the King's Proclamations withheld them. But those who were most rational and who had not imbrued their hands in the blood of these innocents', accused by Philip of hypocrisy in that he made a scruple to make the peace, as having sworn to obey Henry as his King, but yet did it when he had received absolution from the Legate, which was a tacit kind of judgement, which ought not to be made when both parties are not heard. An oath is not subject to absolution, if there be nothing of evil therein, no evil was in his oath since Henry was not declared, nor was not to be declared an usurper, save by the real evidence of a Salic Law. They did not accuse the Legates authority but his act, the which though it were excusable, the end thereof being good, yet give it for granted, that the evil thereof were pardonable, in respect of the good that was thence expected, what good was there to be hoped for, whilst the Swords of such Princes were yet wreaking with blood; for France and Burgundy being accorded, and England excluded out of the agreement, she was thereby endangered as inferior in Forces, in other too lately united to her destructions. But none understood this business better than Philip, nor did better make it conduce to his own ends; for being scandalised with his father's death, he sided with the English; violated the pretended salique Law, bereft Charles of his Crown and Inheritance and gave it to England, hoping that the government should be conditional in her, absolute in him; and if it be said, that if he had had any such design, he would not have refused the Regency when it was offered him. I answer that he refused it out of singular wisdom, for that being come newly to his estate, and finding the people of Flanders contumatious he would have increased their forwardness by living far from them; besides the danger that his command was likely either to cause a breach between him and the English, who would not be satisfied with his superiority, or else coolness in the administration of succour, which would not fall out under the authority of one of their own Princes of fortune; for that distracted by the regency of France, he could not have made those accusations which he did, finding himself afterwards deceived in his first hopes, that the English would have been governed at his pleasure, (Bedford having always commanded by his own particular authority) and having so far revenged himself of Charles as that his anger grew now to be somewhat appeased, distasted by Bedford, and grown greater elsewhere; he changed his purpose, he chose that King which he had rejected, and rejected that King which he had chosen: So as after the death of 300000. men who all died in this quarrel, after the destruction of so many Cities, he made peace gaining thereby that which he could never have pretended to, much less have had from the English, one only thing did not succeed unto him, neither did it much import him, that as by the degrading of Charles and promoting of Henry the fifth, he added nothing to the claim of England (whose pretensions were not grounded upon such foundations) so by revoking what he had done, and gainsaying himself, he brought no prejudice at all thereunto for what remains: he was a Prince worthy of the Cognomen that was given him of God; if you will pardon this present affair and that of his cousin Giacholina Countess of Bavaria, Philip did like unto Rivers overgorged with rain, which when floods of waters cease return to their former channel, when his desire of revenge ceased he forsook the English, and returned unto his own proper nation and blood, and as he might have done better had he not violated his plighted faith, so if he had not plighted it, his virtue had been the greater; but to commit errors being a thing common, since there is none that doth not do amiss, not to out do others in mischief is almost a species of virtue. The Duke of Bedford died 7. days before the peace concluded by Philip, the one happening the 14. the other subscribed the 21. of September: but by him foreseen long before, I will not say, that his foreseen peace was his death; but that it was in part a cause thereof may probably be conjectured; Generous hearts use to be undaunted in danger, but in the change of fortune, if they be not accumulated by adversity, they are macerated by vexation: his death is to be numbered amongst the chiefest causes of the loss of France, he was a wise and prudent Prince, of long experience in arms and government, inferior to no Commander in his time, he was obeyed by his own, feared by his enemies, in so much as Lewis the eleventh being many years after in the Church of Nostre-Dame at Rouen where Bedford is buried, and being told by some as he was looking upon his Tomb, that that sumptuous memorial was a great shame to France, since it had been by him so much endamaged, that therefore it should be defaced, and his bones thrown out, he nobly answered, that it would be a greater shame to France to show herself cruel to his bones, who whilst he was alive none durst oppose; that he was sorry, that the memorial was no more stately, and that none was to be found answerable to so great a worth; none of the Sons of Henry the fourth did degenerate: a thing not usual in so large a family. Henry the fifth died gloriously in the pursuit of his conquests, the Duke of Clarence valiantly fight, and though Bedford of a natural death, and Gloster of a violent, yet died they not with less fame than did the others: so as nature having done her utmost in them, if she failed in the present Henry; it is not to be wondered at, for having called him with a rich shirt of goodness, she was scant unto him in an upper robe of real virtues, and of fortune; Bedford being dead, a new choice was made of, who should succeed him, of two that pretended thereunto the Duke of York bore away the bell, whereat the Duke of Somerset was scandalised, who being the King's cousin thought to have been preferred before him, but the council was of an other opinion; York's true pretences unto the Crown though at that time not spoken of, was perhaps the cause why they would not discontent him, Somerset finding no other remedy endeavoured the hindering of his dispatch to the common losses, for Paris and the chiefest places which the English held in France, were in this interm lost which would not have happened, if he had had his dispatch time enough. Disadvantages which infant Kings are usually subject unto, who governed by many and shared by the emulation of great ones: cannot favour private interests without disfavouring the public to the ruin of King and Kingdom. York seemed not to take notice of these practices, Parteggiati. a dissimulation which caused an inward impostumation in him, wherewith Somerset being afterwards infected, it in a few years after brought them both to immature end. In the same month of September, Queen Isabella mother to Charles King of France, and Katherine Queen of England, died in Paris; she was buried by the side of her husband in Saint Denis without any funeral pomp, the times not suiting with such like solemnities, she lived not much esteemed of by any: no not by the English which made them undergo the imputation of ingratitude though without reason; since nature hath endued us with a secret not well understood, light which cleers unto us all ambiguities, so as the imagined good, which is not, is, will we, nill we, not taken by us for good: No man denies, but that ingratitude is of all vices the most abominable, but neither is it to be denied that benefits sprung from charity or any other species of courtesy and love, not from ostentation or interest are those alone which denominate an ungrateful person: Isabella's good turns had their rise from self interest, if she sided with the English 'twas to side against her son, she favoured them not as friends, but as instruments of her revenge: her daughter's marriage was from the like cause, she loved her as having been her companion in her misfortunes, but 'tis not likely, she would ever have sought her advantage to the injury of Charles, had she not hated him; she confounded the World, ruinated her Kingdom, disinherited her own blood: and out of despite, not any inclination, favoured the enemy; so as if the English seemed not to be over grateful to her, it was because her benefits were none of those which conduce to gratitude. The rebellion of Normandy was one of the first evil effects caused by the death of the Duke of Bedford, for seeing herself freed from that chain which held her in obedience to England, she gave herself up unto the French. Charles de Marest accompanied by the Marishall de Rieux, Messieurs de Bousack, and Longaville, two hours before day scalled the Walls of deep, near to the Gate and met with no opposition by reason of the intelligence, they held within the Town; he had the like success in forcing open the Gate which leads to Rouen, through which the Marishall and all his People being entered, he made a stand in the market place, crying out according to the military custom of France, the City is taken, these acclamations awakened those who slept, who with stones and darts made some short defence, but they were forced to give way to the last comers; there were but few that were slain. The Lieutenant Mortimer with some few others saved himself, the rest remained prisoners together with such Citizens, as had almost affectionately favoured the English: their goods were ransacked, but not theirs who were willing to receiuè the oath; upon the news of this acquisition, Anthoni de Chabanus Sentraglie, Estouteville and many other Lords, with between three and four thousand horse came thither, to whom one Kernier a leader of the common People followed by 6000. of the Countrypeople, joined himself and all of them did willingly take the oath: being marched forth into the field with these and many other Gentlemen of the Country which daily flocked unto him, Fescan yielded itself up unto him on Christmas eve, and on Saint Stephens-day, Monsieur Villiers the Gnascoigne Captain who commanded there having revolted; he assaulted Harfluer but being beaten back and forty of his men slain, whilst he put himself in order for a second assault, the Inhabitants capitulated to surrender up the Town, upon condition, that the English garrison which consisted of 400. men, should be suffered to depart peaceably with all their goods; Beccrespin Tancharville: Gomesseule, Loges, Vallemont, Graville, Longerville, Neneville, Lambraville, and other Towns did the like. Upon this flood of fortune, the constable Richmont arrived, to whom Carls, Mesull, Aumerle, and many other Towns yielded themselves; all which having Garrisons put into them, he withdrew himself for want of victuals, the rest doing the like. So as in a short time, Normandy was dismembered of the greatest part of the Country of Caux; the English were not now to defend themselves against one only enemy; The treaty at Arras as pointed out unto them, a second (viz.) Philip and though war was not yet declared between them, they forbore not to bethink themselves how they might prejudice each other, the Garrisons of Callais and the adjacent parts had a design upon Ardres, and those Burgonians which were in the Country of Ponitean; upon Crotoi designs wherein they both failed. The low Countries were not well pleased with this Breach, for the loss they thereby received by want of commerce, having acquainted Philip with the importance hereof, they prevailed so far with him as to permit them, endeavour the continuation of peace: john of Luxenburg Count de Ligni (who had not yet revolted from the English) was thought fittest for this employment, he writ hereof to his Brother, the Archbishop of Rouen one of Henry's chiefest Counsellors in France, who writ over into England, where the proposition being entertained he acquainted his Brother there withal, and his Brother Philip: much of hostility ensued this mean while, whereat Philip being offended, and much more that Henry had written to the Hollanders; Proffering them the continuance of his friendship (as if he had done it to seduce his subjects from him) he went from his word, and told Ligni, that he would have no longer peace with the English, since they had much defamed him in his honour, that they had beaten his people upon the confines of Flanders, endeavoured to surprise Ardras, sent Ambassadors to the Emperor to provoke his Imperial Majesty against him, sought to seduce his subjects, and done other things not to be passed over without resentment, and not herewithal contended, he writ to Henry repeating over the same things, and denouncing war unto him; Henry writ likewise to him saying, that it was himself, not he that had defamed him, by his perjury, by his violation of their confederacy, and by his having made that peace which neither of them without the others consent could make, for what remains that he had beaten his subjects, for that he found him in a readiness to beat his; that his offering at Ardreas was no more than what Philip had done at Crotoy, that the instructions he had given his Ambassadors, sent unto the Emperor did convince this calumny; that he had much more reason to complain of him, who contrary to the Laws of nations had taken the said Ambassadors prisoners before any declaration of war, that he had not seduced his vassals as his letters could testify, that he had endeavoured the continuance of the commerce which in his name was propounded unto him, and whereby advantage was to redound to both nations. After these complaints Philip resolved to begin the war by besieging Callais, a Fort which he pretended did belong to him as a member of Artois; the which if he could take would redound much to the prejudice of the English, and much to his advantage since thereby he should secure Flanders, Artois, Picardy, and the country about Bullen; he had several counsels concerning this, for it was not to be undertaken without extraordinary Forces; the enterprise was difficult, and not to be undertaken without solid foundations, he could not hope much from Charles, he was sufficiently busied for himself: He bethought himself that if the Flemings and Hollanders his subjects would assist him their Forces would be sufficient: he went with this design to Gaunt, he assembled all the Magistracy, of whom he obtained what he desired, and when this resolution was published throughout all Flanders, in stead of being displeased thereat (as done by the private authority of those of Gaunt, without the accustomed votes of the other members of that Province) they all confirmed it, thinking the time of putting it in execution too long. They thought Callais could not resist their Forces, in imagination they had already taken it, sacked it, incorporated it into Artois, and they themselves returned home enriched, reputed of, and feared by all men. The Hollanders though not so entirely as those of Flanders, did likewise satisfy their Prince in his desire, who went himself in person to entreat them: So as whilst on this side, preparations are made for a new war, the former of France grew more exasperated. La Hire who was persuaded, he could surprise Rouen by reason of the intelligence he held therein, failing in his design retired to Rey; a good great village to refresh himself and his men; where he was set upon by Sir Thomas Terrill and wounded, but escaped away having lost some of his men: Monsieur de Fountains and 60. more being taken prisoners, and most of his horse lost; his horsemen who had not leisure to get on horseback saved themselves in the neighbouring wood: The Constable met not with the like misfortune at Paris; for being certified by Monsieur Lilliadam (who had betaken himself to Charles his party at the same time that Philip did) That those who took part with Burgundy in that City would be favourable unto him, he marched from Pontosa, accompanied by the Bastard of Orleans, Messieurs de La Roche, de Fernant and others, with 6000. Soldiers to discover what might be hoped for out of the inclination of the Inhabitants. But finding no alteration at his appearing (for they were kept in a we by the vigillancy of the rulers, and the Garrisons force) he lodged himself at Mommartres, and went the next day to Saint Dennis. There was in that Town a Garrison of 400. English, the place was void of defence, wholly dismantled, save towards the Abbeys side, as hath been said. These notwithstanding withstood a powerful assault, wherein 200. being slain, the rest retired themselves into the Abbey and Tower, where being besieged, and without hope of succour they yielded themselves, the English their lives saved, the French upon discretion. The Lord Beaumond was not long before come from Normandy to Paris with 600. men, he resolved to march out with these (not knowing of the loss of Saint Dennis) to watch the Constable's ways, but being by him discovered and surprised, whilst he valiantly defended himself he was taken prisoner, together with 80 more: 300. of his men were slain, the rest saved themselves by flight, being pursued and beaten to under the very walls of Paris. An inconvenience which lost the City; for those who took part with Philip, expecting only an occasion of revolt. This loss of the Lord Beaumont's who held them in awe was the happiest thing they could desire. They advertised Monsieur de Lilliadam hereof, desiring a general pardon for all their past disobedience and rebellion: the which when he had communicated to the Constable, he came before the town with all his Forces; the chief of the English party besides the Lord Willoughby were the Bishops of Tarrovan, Liseux and Meaux: who perceiving an open insurrection, thought to make sure St. Dennis gate, but finding the streets chained, they themselves beaten with Stones and Arrows from the windows, and driven from one street to another, they and their men retired themselves into the street of Saint Antonia, where they were safe under the Cannon of the Basteile, the which they furnished with victuals and munition the best they could in so short a time. The Constable this mean while being come to the Port of Saint jaques, Monsieur de Lillidam presenting himself before the walls showed them their pardon under the great seal, persuading them to obedience, and to open the gates unto the Constable, to the which they all assenting Lillidam and the Bastard of Orleans not waiting for the opening of the gates, scaled the walls and were followed by a great many Soldiers, to whom the Burgonians and a great many of the people having joined themselves, crying peace, peace; long live King Charles, and the Duke of Burgundy, they threw open the gate, by the which the Constable entered, marching strait towards the Basteile, under the which the English had retired themselves. They made some resistance though but for a small time, their numbers not being able to withstand the great Forces of the Constable and people; so as some of them being slain and the rest retired into the Bastaile, they were beset with Corpse de Guard in such places as were least to be annoyed by the Artillery, in so much as being blocked up on all sides, this their retreat served only for their recapitulation, which is no small advantage in such a case; the goods they had left in the City were seized on and shared; the Bishop of Terrovan, to boot with his other household implements, part of which he afterwards recovered by the favour of Messieurs de Trenant, and Lalaigne lost the richest adornments of his Chapel; the goods of such Citizens as had sided with the enemy were confiscated; the ancient Officers cashiered, and new ones put in their places, and the besieged not able to hold out, and not likely to be succoured, after ten days came forth their good and lives saved; and with a safe conduct from the Constable, retired themselves to Rouen. Thus Paris returned to its former government, sixteen years after that the Duke of Clarence had placed a Garrison there in the behalf of his brother Henry the fifth. This and some other losses had rather madded them then mated the English. The Garrison of Callais went to Bullen, and had almost taken that part which is called the lower Bullen. But Fortresses are taken by great Forces, not great anger, having burnt many of the ships which lay in the Haven, they passed into the precincts of Gravelline, where destroying all the country, they gave a furious alarm to the common people, who having taken Arms ran to oppose them, but as it is usual to homebred people to presume much and perform little, they were rooted, 400. of them slain, 120. taken prisoners, the rest escaping whither they could, whilst the English leading away their prey and prisoners retired themselves to their Garrisons; on the other side some of the inhabitants of Gisores were corrupted by La Hire to permit him entry in to the City, so as coming with great forces from Gerbery he entered in, and laid siege to the Castle wherein the Garrison had saved themselves, and given notice hereof to Rouen, so as whilst the oppugners and defendors were in their chiefest heat, the Lord Talbot came thither with the Lord Scales and 1800. Soldier's werewithall he freed the Castle, recovered the City chased the enemy away, and punished the traitors. At this time the Duke of York came from England to Normandy, bringing along with him 8000. Soldiers, with which if he had been dispatched away when he ought to have been, the Country of Cauxe had not been lost, and much less Paris. The Duke of Summersets envy the cause of so great loss was not punished, for that hidden mischiefs are not subject to punishments, or for that the faults of great delinquents are not without great danger taken notice of. Monsieur de Croy, Bailiff of Hannault had at this time gathered together 1500. Soldiers under the conduct of Messieurs de Vaurin Noyrule, Sananses, and other remarkable commanders with intention by way of Praeludium to the siege of Callais, to run the country round about it. The Garrisons of Callais, Guines, and other neighbouring places fall upon the same design, who the same night were gathered together to the number of 2000 to sack the country about Bullen, so as the Burgonians had advanced themselves but one hour sooner, they had met with their Scouts who they descried by break of day upon the passage over the bridge of Millay, Croy having advised what was to be done resolved to set upon them whilst in disorder they should be pillaging the country, and though he could not take them at unawares, yet howsoever to give them battle he divided his men into two squadrons, himself following the English with the former, having for his guide the smoke of such houses and villages as they burned. The English had notice of his coming from Some, who at the same time they had taken prisoners, so as having there foraging those who were nearest him united themselves together, and placed themselves upon the top of a little hill, where being by him discovered, but not the rest that marched after, he set upon them not expecting the arrival of his second Squadron, and finding them in disorder, and but a few in number, and the first encounter he slew between three and fourscore of them, the rest fled to their companions and were pursued by the victorious. But when they perceived a second Troop, they made a stop, expecting the arrival of their second Squadron, and wavering in their resolution of fight, they encouraged one another, to what none of them had any mind. The English this mean while having reordered themselves, set furiously upon them; the Bickering was not long, and the formerly victorious making very little resistance were driven even to underneath the walls of Ardresse, the number both of slain and prisoners did not exceed 100 for surprised by fear they betook themselves rather to flight then fight. Decroy was wounded and his horse slain under him, but he had the good fortune to recover another, and was more vexed at the manner of his loss, then at the loss itself; which might be counterpoised by his former encounter. The victuals returned with their prisoners to Callais, and were met by the Earl of Mortaigne, son to the Duke of Somerset, who was sent thither with 1500. men to oppose Philip's designs, who if he had undertaken this enterprise with men taken into pay, and not with the common people of Flanders (who will be entreated and not commanded by their Princes) he would either have reaped more advantage thereby, or lesser shame had he gathered together so many men, as thinking the number superfluous he dismissed the greatest part of them; the number of those who remained amounting to 40000. An Army which if considered in ' its number, richness of apparel, splendour of Arms, quantity of Artillery, Pride of Pavilions, and infinite number of Carriages, fit to conquer a whole nation, not a single town; but we are deceived in nothing more than in a good opinion we hold of ourselves. The people of Gaunt thought that the walls of Callais, aught to have fallen down at their appearing, as did the walls of jericho, when the Israelites appeared. They were troubled that the ships came no sooner from Holland, fearing lest the English having the Sea open, should leave the town empty and fly away to England; they thought that being terrible to their own Princes at home, they should be the like abroad to all the world, and growing insupportable by reason of this confidence they became odious to all men, before they came from Flanders, they caused two Mills belonging to two particular men to be beaten down; imputing the late loss of the Flemings before the Graveline to them, neither durst Philip contradict them herein, nor would they be satisfied with any reason when they had passed the water at Graveline and were entered into the enemy's land, they pitched themselves before Oye. A small Fort the which yielded upon discretion, the which they so indiscreetly made use of; as contrary to all reason of war, they forthwith caused 29. of the Garrison to be hanged, and 25. more afterwards, and would have served all the rest alike; had not the Duke interceded: they burned, defaced, and to the very foundations thereof wholly threw down the Castle: to the end, that the Ashes thereof might show the extent of a Plebaean power, such as appertained to Philip were not suffered to make booties, for if they made any they were forthwith taken from them, and if they resisted, beaten; being come to the Castle Saint Marck: with in sight of Callais they had it at a dearer pennyworth; for it defended itself and slew many of them, but not able to hold out, after having sounded the Bells and hung out colours, to be succoured from Callais, which was impossible; it yielded upon condition not to be treated, as was Oye; so as 24. Soldiers (for they were no more) being led by the 24. divisions of Flanders to the Tents of Gaunt, they were sent prisoners to Gaunt to be exchanged for such of theirs as were already taken or were to be taken, those who entered the Castle having sacked it, returned joyful with their prey, when at the Gate they found some of the chief of Gaunt who took it from them, saying they did it by the direction of the Magistrate of Gaunt, but this not being true, they who had converted the spoils of others to their own use were banished, which caused so great an alteration as they had well nigh gone together by the Ears, justice not having sufficient force against the unjust power tyrannically usurped by the armed avarice of the most feared. At last, Callais was by them begirt, and Philip lodged towards the Sea side; divers skirmishes were there made, the English sallying forth, that those of Gaunt might be deceived in their flight, many were wounded, many were slain on both sides; amongst the wounded, La Hira made one, who being come to visit the Duke drawn thereunto by the name of so glorious an army, was shot in the leg, and Philip whilst he went about to spy the situation of the Castle, a Canon shot slew his trumpeter and three horses, which were nearest unto him, upon one of the which was Monsieur de Savances. Monstrelet describing this siege, praiseth the valour of the Piccards; but Il trombetta. as for the Dutch he saith, that the English made little account of them, and that if it had come to a joint Battle they would have been content to have had 3. Dutch for one English, and yet would have come off with honour: Philip thought good, that whilst he was besiedging Callais, john de Croy should besiege Guiennes, wherein fortune favoured him with victory though exclusively; For Sangatus having yielded to Robert de Sanences under his conduct, and those of Sangate. Guines being necessitated to forsake the Town, and retire themselves into the Castle, he could not for all the aforesaid good luck compass the getting of it. All this while, the Fleet from Holland and Zealand appeared not, whereat Philip was much troubled, and those of Gaunt murmured at it, as if the sailing of ships like the running a career with horses depended upon man's will, on the contrary, the English Ships came to anchor, loaded with men, munition, and victuals, so as blushing at their belief, that those who were there would have fled, since they saw others come voluntarily to run the same hazard, they knew not what to say: they thought themselves betrayed; Philip by his Advisers, and they by the Hollanders being too late aware, that it was impossible to take Callais, so easily as they had imagined without the Mastership at Sea, or hindrance of daily succour; the besieged having put their cattle to grass without the Walls, they would not have dared lay hands on them had not the Piccards encouraged thereunto, by having cunningly got some of them, but whilst 200. of them undertook the enterprise, 22. of them were slain, 33. taken prisoners, and the rest escaping by flight thought themselves never a whit the worse men: but accounted it a piece of bravery to have escaped, every whisper affrighted them; and every motion made them give Allarum's, all which were punyards which wounded Philip, to whom whilst he was thus agitated; Pembroke an Herald of the Duke of Glocesters presented himself, letting him know; that the Duke his Master intended to come and fight with him, in that very place if he would tarry for him, and if not he would find him out in his own Dominions: that he could not prefix a set day as willingly, he would have done, because his occasions depended upon the Seas and Wind, which were uncertain and unconstant; Philip replied that the Duke of Gloucester should not need to seek him forth elsewhere, for he would find him out where he now was, if God should not dispose otherwise of him, then causing the Herald to be fairly treated, he dismissed him giving him a goblet, and an hundred pieces of gold, Philip went then to the Tent of Gaunt (wherein all resolutions were made his owne not having that prerogative) were sum-moning together: all the Flemish Commanders and Cavaliers, he made one of his Councillors acquaint them with Glocesters' Embassy and his answer which his reputation did oblige him unto, entreating them for hishonour and their own, not to desert him but to serve manfully upon this occasion, no man opposed, all were forward in their promises, but every little pretence wherein honour did not predominate, did always break what every obligatory promise. There stood a little Hill not far from Callais, which being fortified was not only likely to prejudice the Fort, but from thence might be discovered whatsoever was therein done. To this purpose, Philip caused a Fort to be built there, of oak and other wood in all haste guarding it with Artillery, and placing therein a Garrison of those of Gaunt commanded by brave Captains, a business which the English did not very well like of, and though they used all the means they could to win it 'twas but in vain for the greatest part of all the camp flocked thither to repel them, at last came the Holland-fleet upon the 25. of july, which had brought along with it six Ships loaden with great stones which were all sunk, the next night at full Sea in the Mouth of the haven, though the besieged did what they could to hinder them, but the Hollanders were mightily deceived, for they had not sunk them in the right mouth of the Channel, so as at the ebb they appeared above the sands, it being easy for those of the Town (who run thither in troops, man woman and child) to free themselves thereof, by burning some of them, and carrying the rest together with the stones into the City, though the Canonplaid upon them from the Fleet. This bad success cooled the little heat which yet remained in the besiegers, but they were conjealed to ice: when the Hollanders without any notice given or leave taken, weighed anchor and hoized sail, steering their course homewards, two days after their first arrival. The reasons which they afterwards alleged, for this were the hazard their Ships were in, by reason of the narrownes of the variable Sea, between the two points of Dover and Callais, and the danger they were to run of the English-fleet, to the which they were inferior, both in quality, number of Ships, and Soldiers, 'tis incredible to say, how mad those of Gaunt were at this, they said they were promised, that Callais should be besieged by Sea and Land, that Philip was abused by such as governed him, and they by him, they had ill favoredly handled Monsieur de Croy, and three others that were with him, had they not retired themselves to john de Croy's camp underneath Guines, they affirmed these things not for that they believed them to be so, but to cancel their own defaults with other men's ink, to the end that their hatched mutiny (a natural defect in them) might be thought reasonable, the Advisers thereunto to be judged indiscreet, not traitors, whilst their bad Council proceeds not from malice, the execution depending upon the Arbitrement of a judicious Prince, if such a one he be, if not, the fault is to be shared between them. Malice subject to the punishment of law, under the deserved title of treason, indiscretion to the punishments of shame and repentance, not but that there may be some advices wherein imprudency may not be punishable, but this was none of those: if the Advisors had equally considered, the profit and the difficulty, they had not erred; but their confidence in the one, would not suffer the other to be seen. All great actions proceed from bold and hazardous Counsels, which are esteemed good if the success be good; if bad indiscreet and rash, the going away of the Hollanders might suffer excuse for their defeat which would have been certain, bore along with it, the Prince's undoubted prejudice, they erred in departing without leave, but it was a discreet error, for had they desired it, it would not have been granted, if those of Gaunt had had a like courage to those of Brugus who would not consent to be gone, had they had patience to expect Gloucester, and valour to overcome him; the Advisors would have been thought wise, and the Hollanders faithful. Treason is not a casual but a voluntary act forethought on, to the prejudice of the Master, and advantadge of the enemy, conditions which were not found in any of the forenamed, those of Gaunt were they alone who were in fault, since their Prince undertook this siege upon the promise of their assistance, and yet they failed him to the prejudice of the undertaking, and loss of his honour, for the which they should have hazarded all, since he hazarded his life, for fortune might bereave of victory, not of honour, which was not to be bereft; but through their baseness and default. After Philip had received the Embassy from Gloucester, he had sent to levy new Forces out of Picardy, Artois, and Hannault, and calling the chiefest of the army together, he found them all as formerly willing and ready, but the common people wholly altered, for those of Callais had sallied forth in great numbers, the foot to win the for●…, the horse to keep it from being succoured, so as with very little difficulty they won it, burned it, and of 400. that were there, they slew a 160. and took the greatest part of the rest prisoners, but slain before they came to Callais to revenge the death of an English Gentleman, who being taken by the Picardes was forthwith slain in the midst of them by those of Gaunt: this accident did so incense them as that they resolved immediately to be gone, and though Philip himself came unto them, remembering them with the promise he had made unto Gloucester, he could not prevail with them, he entreated them to tarry but till the next day; to the end that they might march away without disorder, and not leave any thing behind them: which might service for a trophy to the enemy, offering himself to bring them beyond the water, at Gravelin: but neither could he prevail in this, they said they needed no guide, they went their ways and were followed by the rest, they took away with them all that in so short a time, they could pack up, and not able to carry away all; they broke out the bottoms of many butts of wine and other drink, that the enemy might not make use of them, they left notwithstanding many pieces of Artillery behind them, munition, and victuals, for want of carriages, and having set their huts on fire, they marched in disorder towards Gravelin, crying out home, home, we are betrayed; Philip who had observed all these proceedings with a sorrowful countenance tarried in Battle array, till he saw them out of danger, and then marched orderly after them having his Horsemen for his rearward. john de Croy, who by his commandment was risen from before Guines came to him, he likewise having left his Artillery behind him and many other things for the same defect: at Gravelin, Philip held a Council what was to be done, the resolution was, that all the frontier places should have addition of Garrisons put into them, and that commissions should forthwith be sent abroad, to the end that troops might not be wanting for all places which might be assembled together as occasion should serve, he again entreated the common people to defer their departure for some few days, but was forced to give them leave to be gone since they would have taken leave, had it not been given them, by this he learned that men without courage and who are forced to fight, win no battles. Of all other places he chiefly prepared for the defence of Gravelin; he left there many brave Gentlemen, who voluntarily took upon them to defend it; amongst which Messieurs de Chricchi Sannenses and L●…laine, he did the like in Ardres, Bullen, and all the neighbouring places in his passage to Li●…e, he caused soldiers every where to be raised, being sure that Gloucester would perform his promise to him, though he had broken his; all this relation is according to Monstrelet, but the English though they agree in all things else, differ in the raising of the siege, they say that Philip being advertised that Gloucester was to come the next day, went his way by night; and that though the French labour to excuse him, the Dutch lay all the fault upon him; but I believe Philip to be so generous, as that he would rather have died then have been guilty of so much baseness. There want not examples of the Flemings insolences towards their Princes, his father john was in the like manner abandoned before Mondediere. And as for the Flemish Authors Meierus Henterus and Petit, if I understand them aright they say no such thing, and Speed an English Author says that Philip was excused by many out of reasons suffiently probable. Gloucester came to Calais as some say with 300. as others with 500 vessels loaded with 25000. Soldiers, & finding the enemy gone entered Flanders, meeting none that did oppose him, he tarried not to besiege any place, but burning and destroying where ere he went put all to ruin; great was the prey he made especially of beasts: He burned Popernence, Bailleul, Chasteauneufe, Rimesture and Vallor-Chappule, he dismantled many Castles forsaken by their Garrisons; till weary of going about and wanting bread he retired to Guienes, and from thence to Callais. Many women at the price of a piece of bread recovered the ruins of their houses, the scarcity of bread was the cause of much sickness in the Army. But Gloucester having only self interest for his occasion, he returned to England; where he found new troubles appeased, first by danger and then by the death of the King of Scotland. King james had married his daughter Margaret to Lewis the Dolphin, whereat England was distasted; since this affinity could but not be prejudicial to her, so as the two nations being nettled began to endamage each other, the Scots pretended a double injury that England had endeavoured to hinder the Bride's passage into France, since not able to break the marriage, they would have interrupted it by taking taking her prisoner; and that the Earl of Northumberland unprovoked had assailed the confines of Scotland. Upon these dislikes, james commenced the war, and went with 30000. men to besiege Rosburg. This place was commanded by Sir Ralph Grace, who though he did valiantly defend it, yet was not he the occasion of the Kings raising the siege, nor yet the succour which the Earl of Northumberland was to bring him, 'tis likely some more urgent occasions was the cause thereof, the true reason than was his wives hasty coming unto the Camp, who being a woman and a Princess, would not have hazarded herself at such a time without some urgent occasion, which since it doth belong unto the story, I will take leave shortly to relate it; she came to advertise him of a conspiracy that was plotting against his life, which caused him raise the siege to prevent it; though his intentions did not succeed for blows from heaven are not to be evaded. Walter Earl of Athol, his uncle, was chief of this conspiracy wrought thereunto by wicked ambition, which lay lurking in him many years before. 'Twas he that had incited Robert Duke of Awebeny to kill Prince David, that he might serve this james with the same sauce, had not his father sent him away, had he been saved by being prisoner in England; his design was when these two Princes should be murdered, himself to kill Robert and his son, that he might without any competitor remain the sole heir unto the kingdom, and 'twas not unlikely to have fallen out according to his wish; for Robert after so many detestable wickednesses grew to be hated by all men: But james his preservation, having broken both their designs, it took life again in him alone. When Robert being dead Mordecay his son, and the sons of Mordecay executed after james his return to Scotland, none stood between him and the accomplishment of his tyranny but the very King; neither did he believe that the people would be thereat displeased, for james had mightily distasted the people, by putting a great taxation upon them for the Fleet which did conduct his daughter to her husband, which was by many of them denied, and but unwillingly paid by the rest. In so much as though james had given order to the Collectors to gather no more monies, and to restore what already had been collected to those that gave it; yet did he not sufficiently sweeten them, for such favours as are caused by necessity do not content the people, but that which did the most of all offend them was his unexpected rising from before Roseburg, for having been at great expense for this enterprise, and no man guessing at the reason of his quitting it, it could allow of no good construction. Athol was the chief actor in this Tragedy, but would not be seen therein; till he appeared as King, not as guilty. His chiefest instruments were two bold Roberts, the one his own Grandsonne, the other of the Family of the Gri●…es; the former drawn by his Grandfather's authority; and his hopes after him as being his heir, the other out of an eager desire of being revenged upon the King, by whom he reputed himself doubly injured, for having long before for some misdemeanours been imprisoned and banished the King had lately taken from him the guardianship of a nephew of his, which was fall'n unto him by his brother's death. The Queen had discovered the conspiracy, but not the conspirators, so as the King using all possible diligence to find them out, made them hasten the effecting of their business for fear of being discovered, he had withdrawn himself, together with his wife, and some familiar friends, without any guard to the covent of preaching Friars near to the walls of Pearth; amongst which was one of the conspirators named john, whose Surname I find not written. The Traitors entered into the Friary rewarding the Porter, and being come into the Kings Ante-chamber and met not with any body, they stood expecting that the said john should open the door, that they might enter without noise; when one Walter Stretton came forth for some business concerning the King, who seeing so many armed men, and not able to get back, cried Treason, treason; but him they instantly slew and ran unto the door, and found it shut by one Katherine Douglas a Lady worthy remembrance; This Lady missing the great Bar wherewith the door was wont to be shut, and which was purposely hid away by john, supplied the place thereof with her own Arm, but they forced open the door, and broke her Arm, they slew all that withstood them: the King was slain with 28. wounds, the Queen who when her Husband fell, fell upon him to serve him for a Buckler; so as she could not easily be dragged from him, received two wounds: and Patrick Dunbarre, brother to the Earl of the March, who defended the King as long as he was able, was left for dead sorely wounded, and his fingers struck off. This cruel treason was forthwith divulged every where, filling all men's minds with horror and pity, those who formerly hated the King did now celebrate him, they called to mind how he had passed all his life in afflictions, his childhood practised upon his uncle, his youth bittered by imprisonment, his Kingdom annoyed with perpetual seditions, and now slain in a Court of government, the most moderate and most just that ever Scotland enjoyed; there was not any Lord though never so far off, who did not hasten to revenge this death, all the actors whereof (were it out of their over-daring confidence, or did it only proceed from the will of God) were taken, brought to Edinburgh, and severally punished. The three principals Athol his Grandsonne and Grains, were the last reserved for punishment, and all of them suffered death; I know not whether more exemplary or cruel. Atholls punishment was divided into three days suffering, the first day he was led through the City in a Cart, wherein was framed the form of a Cross in wood, with a pulley at the top of it, with a rope fastened to it, wherewith his hands being fastened behind him, and he all naked, having his privy parts only covered, he was at certain appointed places drawn up to the top of the pulley having leaden weights at his heels within two foot of the ground, and after having had many of these draughts, he was set in a Scaffold and had a crown of red hot Iron set upon his head, a punishment invented as they say, for that he was once foretold by a Sorceress, that he should one day be crowned King, in the concourse of a great many of people, the which whether it be true or no, or whether belief ought to be given to such predictions I leave it to be decided by the learned, the knowledge of things to come belong properly to God alone, and if it should be granted that the devil have some share herein, by his observation of the Stars and their Aspects (wherein he may be a great master, being Coetanean with the Planets and immortal) yet should I think him altogether ignorant herein were it not contrary to the school of Theologists who say, that by sinning he lost what he had received by favour, not what was natural in him, I should resemble him to a canceled writing, for perfection of knowledge which was natural in him being a Species of beatitude, there doth no beatitude belong unto the damned, but allow the opinion of the Schools, we may affirm, that his knowledge of things to come being uncertain and conjectural (as are all such things as depend upon the like principals) he doth not communicate them, but by uncertainties, and equivocation. athol's prediction proved this unto us; since pronounced in a sense of exaltation and glory it proved to be base and infamous; but formy part I believe these predictions are invented when things have succeeded, one part of the World delighting in being deceived, the other in deceiving and seeming wise by affirming what is not. The second day he was laid upon a hurdle, and drawn at a horse tail through the chief streets of Edenbourough. The third day he was laid upon a table, his Belly ripped up; his Bowels thrown into the fire, his Heart torn out and burnt, his Head cut off, his Body quartered, and his Quarters sent to the four chief Cities of Scotland; his Grandsonne faired the better for his being young, and set on by his Grandfather, he was only hanged and quartered; Robert Grames was put naked into a Cart, had his hand wherewith he slew the King, fastened to a ladder erected therein, was pinched with hot irons in all the parts of his Body, his vital parts excepted, and then quartered. England was grieved at the death of this virtuous King, though her enemy; but not thereby incommodiated; for james the second not being past seven years old was not of age enough to annoy any one, he himself being sufficiently annoyed by the ambition of such who strove to be his Governor. I observe one thing remarkable in the story of Scotland, that of one hundred and eight Kings that have reigned there; (our gracious King Charles that now reigns not comprehended in the number) 54. have died natural deaths, 49. have come to violent ends, by misfortune conspiracy and battles, and for the other five which remain to make up the number, one renounced the Kingdom, and four fled from thence, and were banished: so as if you will account them happy who come to natural ends, and number the five who did not die Kings amongst the unhappy, the number of happy and unhappy is equal, each of them making 54. the like will not be met withal; as neither the succession of so many Kings in any one Kingdom, or any Kingdom of Europe. After the havoc Gloster had made in Philip's territores, both parties drawn either by the persuasion of friends or commodity of trading were drawn to treat of truce at Gravelein, whither for Henry went the Cardinal of Winehester, the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Stafford, with others versed in law and business, and for Philip the Duchess his wife, the Bishop of Arras, Monsieur de Croy and others, a truce was concluded in the name of the Duchess; Philip not being so much as named therein, which caused two opinions, either that Henry would not treat with him as being a perjured man and a breaker of former agreements, and therefore not better to be now expected from him, or else that it was a piece of cunning in Philip not to cause jealously in Charles, and that it might be lawful for him to undo what was there done, when it might turn to his advantage: since wives promises do not oblige their husbands, which of these was the true cause; it is hard to say neither; doth it much import, the only certainty is that it lasted but a while. The death of Queen Katherine mother to King Henry happened at the same time, who being left a widow in her time of youth, and without hope of marrying herself otherwise, did secretly marry Owen Tewdor a young Gentleman of Wales, whose laudable parts added to the Nobleness of his birth (for he was descended from Cadwallader, the last King of the Britons) moved her to take him for husband, by him she had three sons and one daughter, the son's names were Edmond and jasper, the third son's name who became a Benedictine Friar is not expressed; as neither the Daughter's name who became likewise a Nun: the two first being brothers by the mother's side to King Henry, were by him created Earls: Edmond of Richmond, jasper of Pembroke: Edmond who did marry jane the only daughter and heir of john Duke of Somerset was Father to Henry the seaventh; but Katherine being dead, Owen was questioned for marrying a woman that had such relation unto the King without his consent, whereupon Gloster having caused him two several times to be imprisoned, and he having twice made an escape, the third time he was caught and lost his life. But this is not the common opinion of Authors as we shall see: George Lille lays, he was descended from a base original, and toucheth no other particulars, Meirus makes him the Bastard of an Alehouse keeper in Walls, Katharnes Tailor; and very lately married by her; to the end, that the children she had by him might by her marriage be made legitimate: Belleforest affirms the same. I cannot imagine where Lille can have had this, if not from Meirus: none of all the English Writers, I have met with having so much as dreamt thereof. Belleforest by alleging Lille and Meirus, and giving word for word what Meirus saith, doth plainly show, he had it from him, and from whence Meirus had it, it is not hard to guess, since he was a Dutchman, his Author was Margarita the Sister of Edward the fourth; second wife to Charles, Duke of Burgandi, Philip's son. Of all women that ever were she was the most passionately given to the faction of her own family, for if she had a hand in the false supposition of an Edward Plantagenet, and afterwards by her own invention did suppose the son of a jew turned Christian, to the end that he might personate the Duke of York, when he together with his brother Edward the fifth was smothered in the Tower; and so trouble the affairs of Henry the seaventh (as we shall hereafter see) 'tis no wonder if she invented this Genealogy to defame him and make him to be by the World despised; besides it is not likely, that a young Queen Dowager lately come into the Kingdom, who neither had had time nor occasion to raise herself a faction in the Kingdom without regency or authority, without means either to punish or reward, should be so long permitted to live in so dishonest a manner, not only in the face of her son a mild youth, but in the fight of her too powerful and sensible brother-in-lawe, of the nobility, and all the Kingdom; (for it is not to be supposed that the Court could be hudwinckt in four great bellies) she was therefore undoubtedly married, and her marriage winked at by reason of her husband's birth, which though it was not answerable to her present condition, yet to be tolerated in respect of his fore fathers, for nobility doth not lose it privileges for want of fortune and want of worth, which he wanted not, if we may believe them who were likely to have better testimonials thereof then Meirus, and if he were put to death (which is not certain,) it was not for his baseness of birth but for his offence, in having dared contrary to the laws to marry the King's mother. Queen Katherine was followed in her death, and imitated in her marriage: In death she was followed by Queen jane daughter to Charles the second, surnamed the wicked King of Navarre, Dowager to Henry the fourth King of England, and before him to john the fourth, Duke of Britanny, by whom she had john the now present Duke, and Arthur Count de Richmond Constable of France. In her marriage she was imitated by Giva Colinia, daughter to the late Count Saint Paul who for fancy sake like her did marry Sir Richard Woodveil afterwards created Earl Rivers, without acquainting her brother the now present Count St. Paul therewithal nor yet her uncle the Bishop of Tirrovane, and as from Katherine's marriage; Henry the seaventh did proceed, and all the Kings that have succeeded him, even till this present day; so from jacholinus marriage did Elizabeth wife to Edward the fourth proceed, from whom came Elizabeth wife to Henry the seaventh, the first mother of the Kings of England and great Britanny they were both French women married to two brothers alike in resolution and fortune so as if those that blame them could have foreseen their succession, they would have commended them for bad actions are styled good by their happy events. In the last insurrections in Normandy the English had lost Harfluer a loss of great consequence for the preservation of that province, the Duke of Somerset went to besiege it, and to recover it, accompanied by Faulkonbridge, and Talbot. Estouteville commanded there in chief with a Garrison of 600. Soldiers and though the Town did suffer much by battery the walls being thereby defaced, and the houses beaten down, yet could they not come to an assault; The Bastards of Orleans and Burbone, presented themselves before it in the way of succour, and did on all sides molest the besiedgers, hoping by disordering them to succour the Town, but not succeeding therein they abandoned the enterprise. The Duke of Somerset got as much honour in the winning of this Town as shame in the loss of it, for having won it in the Duke of York's regency he not long after lost it in his own, Tancherville yielded itself likewise to Talbot after a siege of four months as did also Beauchastaean and Maleville: Charles on the other side having past the Loire, with the Constable and Count de Marsh, did by assault take Chasteau Landone, hanging up all the French they found there. Charni and Nemours yielded themselves up unto him, he battered the Town of Montea●…: till such time as Thomas Gerard who did defend it sold it to him for a sum for money, so say the English, not Chartiere, who saith he won it by force, so as the Castle afterwards yielded, all the French wherein were hanged, and the English set at liberty at the Dolphin's request, from thence he went to Paris, where having not been since it returned to his obedience, he made his entry with great solemnity and acclamation all these losses happened in the interim, when the Duke of York being called from his regency, and the Earl of Warwick appointed in his place, no man thought how to regain them, for York being out of authority, and Warwick seven week's weather bound, so as he could not pass into France for lack of wind: this was the cause why Monstreau without any further contestation yielded itself unto Charles: York during all the time of his regency in Normandy was not personally present at any act of War, saving at the taking in of Fescampe, yet at his departure, he left the fame of a wise and just Man. Florimand de Brima●… Balieffe of Pontieu had private advertisement, that the Fort of Crotoi was ill provided of victual and not likely 1424. therewithal to be supplied, if it were begirt with an unexpected siege: He advertised Philip hereof who suddenly dispatched away, Messieurs de Achilles Crovi, Kenti jaques de Brimeau, Boudlers Lavense, and Graen, with good forces to besiege it, but he did not provide for the most essential thing which was to block up the heaven; for it had not victuals wherewithal to sustain itself for 8. days. The Garrison which feared nothing but hunger (an engine against which there is no defence) finding the Sea open; sent forth a vessel which by several returns freed them from the pressing affair, and were no ways afraid of being otherwise oppugned. The Burgonians were too lateaware of their error, so as manning forth four ships, they took from them the liberty of the Sea, and there land forces were daily augmented. Philip was come for this purpose to Hedine and levied new forces in Hannault and Piccardy. This Fort was a place of great consequence, a Sea haven, the inlet into Picardy; situated between R●…es Monstreula and Saint Valeri: requisite to the peaceful possession of Callais, Bullen, and Pontieu. So as if Philip did what in him lay to win it the English did what they could to succour it; The Burgonians that they might be sure to keep it from being succoured, built a great Fort wherein they placed 1500. Soldiers: and the English to free the Town from being blocked up by Sea sent forth seven ships, which chased away the other four: thereby freeing it from the fear it was in of want of victuals and totally to set it at liberty: the Regent Warwick sent thither; Talbot, Scales and Terrill, with 5000. fightingmen who having passed the Soame; marched forward with a resolution either to raise the siege or die in the quarrel. Philip being hereof advertised hasted from Hedine to Abeville, accompanied by the Counts of Nivers, Saint Paul, Estampes, and the Prince of Cleurs, in a posture of affronting the enemy but in effect did nothing. For the English passed every where unresisted doing all the mischief they could; so as by this proceeding it was thought he meant to raise the siege with the least dishonour he might, and the besiedgers scandalised at this his temporizing, no sooner understood of Talbots approach, but imitating those of Gaunt before Callais, they rise from before the Town not expecting any command, and retired to Rues; being scoftat and mocked by the Garrison (as saith Monstreulet) as men of no courage there was amongst them four Knights of the order, john de Croy, Florimand, and james de Bremiau, and Bawd de Noyelle; so as Talbot after having burnt eight Towers, ruinated all the Country about, and raised the siege; turned back the same way into Normandy with a booty of many prisoners and horses: and Philip with this second shame retired himself to Arras having lost many of his carriages taken from him by S. Thomas Terrill. This Winter was much more sharp than usual, which caused the surprise of Pontous, the possession whereof the more necessary it was 1438. for Charles, by reason of the nearness thereof to Paris, the more was he incommodiated by the loss of it, it was a fit place to annoy the one side, and to secure the other from the City, and all the Isle of France. Talbot was he who did the business, who favoured by the ditches being froozen over, might without danger make himself master thereof by scaling it, the only obstacle, he met withal was two brothers surnamed Gurry, who having fortified themselves in a Turret which stood over the Gate which lead to Paris, and sent notice thither did defend it, till the ensuing night, and if any succour had come, the Town had run danger of being recovered by that place, but no succour appearing they covenanted to be gone; their lives saved, and leave the Town to him that had won it, so as the inroads that were afterwards made. The mischief that the French Garrisons for want of pay did in the Country, and famine which by reason of the Countries not being cultiated, was very great; forced the poor Countrypeople to retire themselves to Paris, where near about 50000. died, for mere want: and amongst so many miseries, the newest and unheard of was, that no man durst walk through the open fields and Country Villages for fear of Woolves, which having slain and eaten about 80. people taught the rest to guard themselves from them, thus were they warred on by all sides; their friends injured them by their insolences and rapines, their enemies slew them, their ground gave not its wont increase, and ravenous beasts devoured them. After Warwick was come into France; Earl Montaigne came to Cheriburg with 400. Archers and 300. Lances, with the which passing through the Country of Maine, he by assault took Saint Annian put 300. of the Scottish Garrison to the sword, and hung up the French therein as falsesifiers of the oaths, they had formerly taken to Henry at the same time. Longaville, Charles, Ma●…ille, and many other places yielded themselves up to Talbot not so much for lack of victuals as want of Loyalty: On the other side natural inclination caused Montargnes and Cherosse to submit themselves to Charles, his obedience playing with fortune and as it were in sport, giving themselves some times to the one side, some times to the other. This mean while Philip who after his unfortunate retreat from Callais studied nothing more than how to annoy that place, sent a number of pioneers, Woodcleavers and Smiths with a conduct of 1600. Soldiers to cut down the banks which resisted the Sea, believing that he should thereby drown Callais and all the precincts thereof, but the event showed his want of experience, who advised him thereunto for leaving the enterprise; they went to Pont de Millay, rather that they might appear not to have come in vain, then out of hopes of their endeavours might prove prejudicial to Callais or the parts adjacent. The Soldiers of France were reduced to that point, as they were no longer fit to defend, but made rather a profession of living upon other men's goods, more to the prejudice of their own side, then of their enemies: some good store of them, had assembled themselves together to commit robberies safely amongst their own men, since they could get nothing amongst the enemy but wounds, and death. They were properly enough called Flears, great complains was made hereof to Charles, especially of one of their troops which rise to the number of 600. horse led on by Rodrigo de Villandras, who being by Charles commanded either to quit the Kingdom or else to fight against the enemy, did not obey him, which forced Charles to march himself into the field and fight with him. Villandras weighing the danger made virtue of necessity, he went to Toulosse, from thence to Guiene, where having much endamaged the English; he deserved his pardon though the English did afterwards in the Dolphin's insurrection regain all they there lost. The dangers of that Province were at this time caused more by corruption of money then force of Arms, which being known in England, and that the Bastard of Orleans was for this purpose at Tolousse they dispatched away the Earl of Huntingdon with 2000 Bowmen and 400. Lances, who broke the bargain by changing the Governors, and removing the Captains from one place to another, and because the like contagion was entered amongst the Soldiers in Normandy corrupted by the French crowns, a supply of a 1000 men was sent thither under the conduct of four Knights which secured that Province, and though it cannot for certain be affirmed, that there was some corruption in the loss of Meaux in Brie, yet he who did defend it gave evident signs thereof, for being besieged by the Constable and taken by assault, wherein the Bastard of Tian was taken and immediately beheaded. The defendants retired themselves into the market place (one of the strongest retreats, that then was in all France) where they might longer have held out, for Talbot being come with 4000 Soldiers with full purpose to give the Constable battle, (who having fortified himself in the City did not stir from thence, though much provoked) took a Fort placed in the Island near unto the Marketplace wherein he slew 120. men, took all the rest prisoners; and forced Monsieur de Croy to abandon his quarter; and got many barks loaded with victuals, so as having secured the besieged and furnished them with fresh Soldiers, they did not withstanding forbear to surrender themselves. A few days after, Sr. William Chamberlain was their chief as saith Monstrelee, and Sr. Thomas Abringant according to Chartier; but whether of either it was where he came to Rouen, he was clapped up prisoner in the Castle, and accused for having surrendered, not necessitated thereunto, since he had men, victuals, and munition; but how ever, he so pleaded for himself, as he was set at liberty. The Constable not content with this achievement marched into Normandy, besieged Auranches; and at the coming of the Duke of Alansonne was by him reinforced with new troops, a part whereof took the City and Castle of Saint Susanna in maine, through the treachery of an English Knight, as saith Giles, whom he nameth not. As for Auranches after three week's siege he was forced to rise from before it, for Talbot came and countersieged him, entering the town in his very sight, the Constable not being able to hinder him. The Dolphin's insurrection which happened at this time, did a little retard his father's good fortune, for thereby the English repossessed themselves of such places as they had lately lost, he was then just sixteen years old, he lived at Loches under the tuition of Count de Marsh, a gentleman of noble conditions, but his authority grew less after his marriage, and after that with the weight of the Corrazza, he liked well of military applause, and the flatteries of such who hoped for advancement by reason of this rent, the causes hereof were two; the first for that Charles was always governed by people of no great account, the second the ambition of the Princes, which hath at all times been prejudicial to France, for they pretend to that out of right, which is only due unto them by favour. Charles gave occasion hereof by his ill conceived suspicions, and the Princes laid hold thereof contrary to the laws of nature, by making the son disobedient to the father, and to civil wisdom; by putting dissension in the kingdom in a time when they should all have conspired to have set it free, by expelling the enemy. But suspicions were in Charles become inseparable and become natural unto him, by reason of his being become accustomed to his mother's persecutions, and the enmity of Burgony, and England, so as affying only in the meaner sort of people, as those that were less apt to hurt him, he made them insolent, as mistrusting the great ones; he gave them cause of offence, by excluding them from his familiarity and affairs, his son's discontents sprung from the same fountain, his father grew jealous of him, seeing him grow in authority as in years, and in the subjects expectation, so as to keep him under, he treated him more frugally and held a stricter hand over him, than his years, his being married, and his ambition could permit; those who misled him were the Dukes of Burbone and of Alansonne, the Counts of Vandome Chabanes, the dunness, Charmount, Tremugtie, Boveant and Prie by the Bastard of Burbones means, these bade him weigh the duty he ought his father, and the welfare of the state; that the former was to be preserved by the preservation of the latter, but not contrariwise. They showed unto him the evil effects caused by his father's bad government, they ripped up all from the murdering of the Duke of Burgundy even to the present time, they informed him that those who were of the greatest authority about him, persuaded him to peace, which could not be done without dismembering the kingdom, (which was to deprive him the Dolphin of his inheritance and patrimony) for that their power being weakened by war, wherein Captains and governor's of provinces were only to be used, they could not tyrannize over the King, Kingdom, Princes and Dolphin, unless they should exclude men of merit. They told him how his being confined in so solitary a place, might serve for an Argument to prove this, since he was kept there of set purpose, that being far from the Court, and ignorant of affairs, he might depend upon them, that by taking upon him so generous a resolution he could not displease his father, since the effects would show that such disobedience would redound more to his profit then any obedience could do, since thereon depended the preservation of the state; father, son and subjects. I know not whether it were these reasons that prevailed with the Dolphin, or else his own contumatious inclination●…: his answer was, he was ready to do whatsoever his quality obliged him unto. That all the power lay in the Princes, that he would neither be wanting to himself nor them. In brief leaving Loches and the Count his governor, he went to Monlius where the Duke of Burbone waited for him, and whether the Duke d'Alansonne and Count de Dammartin came unto him, and after them all the rest, with a resolution not to part with him till such time as (according to the common pretence of all seditious people) disorders were reform, the authority of the Princes established, and men of worth called into favour. They used their best means to draw Philip to their faction, but he whose eyes were not dazzled did not only deny them, but advised them to more wholesome resolutions; since their enterprise was unjust, full of danger, and for which they had no ground, he protested, he would never separate himself from Charles, and said, he should be able to do the Dolphin better service by not siding with him, then if he should take his part, this answer did displease the confederated, finding themselves thereby deceived in their chiefest hope, but they were much more displeased, when all the Provinces did with horror and detestation hear of this insurrection. They all loved the Dolphin, and offered to serve him, but not against his Father, who having admonished him of his duty, and not prevailing, went armed to Poitiers: from whence he sent to the Duke of Burbone, commanding him to deliver up unto his Son, and to the Duke of Alencon, commanding him to surrender up Niorte, and Saint Massence willing them both to come before him, and give a reason for their insurrection; but they obeyed not. On the contrary, Alencon sent word to Massence to defend itself, upon notice whereof the City revolted, and the Castle was besieged, and taken by the King's forces, which suddenly flocked thither, and the Commanders hanged. Finally a total agreement was made by an assembly held at Clarimont, where the King being persuaded to pardon the Offenders, if together with the Dolphin they would humbly beg forgiveness, they all came and threw themselves before his feet. Charles blamed his Son for his fault committed, and the danger he had thereby put the Kingdom to, exhorting him to better thoughts, and he desiring his Father to pardon, Tremoulle, Chamount, and Pry, (who were excepted in the pardon) protesting he would not accept of his unless they had theirs: His Father rebuked him again, and was contented that being free from punishment they should retire themselves to their own houses, wherewithal he was notwithstanding to be contented, unless they would abandon those. In the time of these disorders Richard Beauchampe Earl of Warwick and Regent of France died, and the Duke of York was the second time chosen, who passed into Normandy, accompanied by the Earl of Oxford, the Lord Bourchier, entitled Earl of Yew, and many other gentlemen: he presently found wherein to employ himself for the loss of Pontouse, being very incommodious for the Parisians, they disbursed a great sum of money to Charles, that he might endeavour the recovery of it, wherefore he went to besiege it with 1200. old Soldiers, and was followed by the greatest part of the Princes, and Nobles of France, the Lord john Clifford, who together with Talbot had but a little before surprised it, commanded there in chief. The River Ouse did much incommodiate the besiegers, for they could not approach the City on that side, wherefore having built a bridge of Boats over against the Abbey of Saint martin's, and made themselves masters of the Abbey, they made thereof a Fort, which did much endamage the besieged, yet were they not so begirt on all sides, but that they were succoured as some will have it four or five times; Talbot was the first who furnished them with men and victuals, and the Duke of York came thither with 8000. men, sent to present battle by his heralds, which Charles would not by any means accept of, for since the river parted the two Armies, he believed that as long as the bridge of Beaumond was well guarded (by which the Duke was to pass) he could not be enforced to fight; but the Duke having brought along with him in Carts great store of Boats, Cordage, timber, and planks, he passed some few of his men over the River, who so speedily wove a bridge of Ropes (whilst Talbot seemed as if he would force his passage over the bridge of Beaumond, as that they were almost all passed over before the enemy was aware, so as it was too late to withstand them, in the endeavouring whereof many were slain, and many taken prisoners; Charles was commended for his wisdom in not entertaining the battle, but he was blamed for his negligence in suffering the enemy to pass the River, being thereby reduced to a necessity of fight against his will, but being resolved not to come to handblowes, he raised his siege by night, and having put his Ordnance into the Fort Saint Martin, the which he left in the custody of Charles d'Aniou and the Admiral Coetery, with 3000. men, he retired himself to Poiesy. The Duke who upon break of day had put himself in order to give him Battle, finding him gone entered the City, and having caused fresh supply of victuals to be brought in, and left Sir jarvis Clifton there with a 1000 men to defend it, he marched forwards towards Poiesy, but Charles eschewing him after some few skirmishes he went to Lamote, and from thence to Rhoan; Charles this mean while suffered in his reputation, especially amongst the Parisians and Courtiers, which made him resolve to return to Pontouse, and either take it or die in the enterprise, he went thither with new Forces, he assaulted it on three sides he himself in person in one part, the Dolphin in another, he entered the town though in his entrance he lost 3000. of his men, of the thousand that were in the Garrison; 500 died in the assault, and many afterwards, so as very few of the Commander Cliston remained prisoners. This loss was the cause of many others, particularly of Corbeile, Mellune and Eureux, but this accident hindered not the Negotiation of peace, which was adjourned the last year, till the now present time, the assembly was to be at Callais, for the English would not give way it should be else where. Those that were employed from England brought along with them the Duke of Orleans still a prisoner, to the end that by his endeavouring the business, he might procure his liberty; the chief of those who were employed from France were the Archbishop of Rheims and Narbone, and the Bastard of Orleans. On Philip's behalf came Monsieur de Croevaceur, many days were spent in finding out a means of accommodation, but all in vain, for it was impossible to agree so disagreeing interests. The English held resolute to three points; to repossess the Duchess of Normandy, and Gascony, to repossess whatsoever they had lost for 30. years before, and to hold all this free from any dependency upon the crown of France. In the first there was no great difficulty, nay it was yielded unto, but the other two were impossible, for Charles would not restore back any thing, and much less quit that sovereignty, which had been informer times enjoyed by his predecessors, so as the business being adjourned to another time, the assembly was dissolved, the private businesses concerning the Duke of Orleans had no better success, for monies were not found ready for his ransom, and the English would not rely upon his promises, but he had his liberty by a means which no man would have imagined. Philip began to consider, that if this Prince should be set at liberty, by any other means then his, their amity would be immortal; to the ruin of the one or of the other of them, or rather of them both, and of the kingdom; and that if he should undertake to free him, not only a peace between them was likely to ensue, but a friendship for which every one and the King himself would thank him. Yet that he might not walk on hudwinckt, and perad venture be deceived in his belief he would first know for certain whether he could forget and forgive his father's murder committed by Philip's father, the which as it was altogether unknown to King Philip till 'twas committed, so was he much displeased thereat when 'twas committed: as likewise whether or no he would marry the daughter of the Duchess of Clea●…e his sister; this Prince had been prisoner 25. years, which caused so great a desire of liberty in him, as he with much willingness embraced these propositions: he promised for ever to forget his father's death, in respect of this present favour, and gave his word to marry her whom he proffered him. Hereupon Philip paid 300000. Crowns, and took him from England, he sent the Duchess his wife to meet him at Gravalein, and came thitherafterward himself, he brought him to Saint Omers, where having sworn to the peace at Arras, he gave him the wife he had promised, and each of them bestowed on others their several orders. Philip the fleece to Orleans, and Orleans the Porcospino to Philip; actions wherewith Charles was no whit pleased, and which made him not to admit Orleans to his sight, till one year after his being at liberty. Of all the Ancient prisoners there remained now none in England (for the Count de Eu had ransomed himself some two years before) save john Count d'Anglesme, who was not a prisoner by name, but lay in pawn for the security of 209000. Francs or of 100000. C●…wnes, according to St. Marta as the residue of 240000. due for the expenses in the assistance given to the house of Orleans against the house of Burgundy, as we heard in the life of Henry the fourth. This Prince in the year 1413. when he was given in hostage into England was but nine years old, and he tarried there till the year 1445. which was 32. years; The Duke of Orleans his brother left him in hostage, not being able to do otherwise, since he himself was ransomed by an other: but what by some moneys he had, and some other moneys he got for the Country of Perrigord, which he sold for this purpose; he set himself at liberty four years after. From these two brothers who had so long lived in captivity did two Kings descend, which succeeded one another, from Charles Duke of Orleans; Iris the twelfth, and from john Count de Angulesme, Charles Count de Angulesme, who was Father to Francis the first. Thus fortune is pleased to sport herself with men, as if sorry she had been so long cross unto the Fathers, these would recompense them in the glory of them who should descend from them. The Duke of York was this mean while careful in the discharging of his office, his honour and actions, were subject to the censure 1442. of evil Willers, which made him more diligent not only to preserve what was gotten, but to add to what the Crown of England did for the present possess in France: where much having been lost, he thought the best way to preserve the remainder, was to prevent the enemy: and rather to assault them in their own territories, then suffer himself to be prevented, and assaulted by them. To which purpose he selected forth the best Soldiers out of all his Garrisons, and divided them into three parts, he gave the one part of them to the Lord Willoughby, the second to Talbot, and kept the third for himself: and had the Duke of Somerset in his company; Willoughby entered Picardy and forbearing to sack and burn, that he might avoid giving an Alarm to the Country, he advanced further by such silence, than he would have done by ruinating, where he went for thinking themselves safe; and hearing no news of any enemy, they were either slain or taken prisoners, ere they were aware. The neighbouring Garrisons this mean while awakened by their losses joined themselves together and opposed him, but he having slain about 600. of them; and made the rest to fly, their fortune led them to fall upon the Count Saint Paul, whereby they were totally ruinated, and Willoughby returned to Rouen, loaded with booty and prisoners, the two Dukes having scoured the Countries of Anjou and maine, not meeting with any to withstand them; York retired to Normandy and Somerset entered into Britanny, where having taken Guarches a place belonging to the Duke Alencon, he put all the neighbouring parts into great combustion, whereupon Charles sent the Marishall Loehac to stop his further progress, who whilst he intended to set on him by night was by Somerset prevented, who slew a hundred of his men, and took 72. prisoners: amongst which Messieurs de Davesigni, and de Bueil; and with the taking in of Beaumonte called the Visconte, he put a period to his progress, Talbots commission was to besiege deep, an enterprise not likely to be effected with 1500. men, he forbore not though to try his fortune, he first made himself master of the adjacent places, and notable to begirt in with a formal siege, he built a Fort upon a hill called Polet which looks up in the Haven, and beginning to play upon the Town with his cannon, he left it to the care of his Bastard Son, till such time as he might return from Rouen with sufficient Forces. Giles saith that he left there 600. men, and 200. pieces of Artillery which is not likely; if we consider the small number of those who conducted them, the number of horses which were requisite to draw them, and the small precincts of the Fort. The preservation of this place did more import Charles, than the winning of it did the English; though it did much concern them: so as resolving to succour it, the Dolphin got the charge of the conduct, with the title of Lieutenant general and governor between the two Rivers of Sceine and Lomes', he gave unto him for his assistants and counsellors the Bastard of Orleans, and the Bishop of Avignone, he was followed by a great number of Gentlemen who flocked unto him from all parts; amongst which the Count Saint Paul made one, who just then had quitted the English party; he came to deep with 15000. fight men, he entered the City where having built six bridges of wood, which ran upon wheels to pass over the ditches of the Fort, he assaulted it, and had what he desired. Yet great was the resistance that was made, for many of the assailants being slain, the rest gave back; and had it not been for the Dolphin's example, (who fought as if he had been a common Soldier) the Fort had not been taken: his presence made them to return, fight, and over coming all difficulties enter the Fort by force; 300. English were then slain, the rest remained prisoners, amongst which the Bastard Talbot, & two Knights, the few French that were found there were hanged up, and the Fort beaten down, this happened in the year 1443. Though I have placed it here to avoid telling the same thing twice: The Dolphin gave many privileges to the City, because it had constantly held out which were afterwards confirmed by Charles, and left Monsieur de Marrets Governor of the Town, who had behaved himself there very valiantly. The affairs in Gasconi passed on with the like remisenes, for the English they had besieged Tartras, a City belonging to Monsieur d'Albret, the Defendants had agreed to surrender it up: if they should not be succoured by Saint johns-day, and had given Monsieur d'Albrets eldest son in Hostage. To this purpose, Charles came to Tolousse, and from thence to Tartras with an Army of 40000. fight men with the which the English not being able to bicker, the Tower was quitted, and the hostage restored back from thence he passed to Saint Levere, he took it by assault; and be sides the Inhabitants slew 400. of the English, and took Sr. Thomas Ramstone, who was Governor there prisoner. Ayes yielded after two months and half a siege; Reolle a City seated upon the River of Garrone, seven leagues distant from Bordeaux, was taken by force, but when Charles returned into France, the English repossessed themselves of Ayes and Saint Leverine, and kept Ayes but lost Saint Leverine, which was retaken by the Count de Fois their great enemy, in an other part the Town of Galerdonne, did much molest Shartres as being near unto it, in so much as the Bastard of Orleans did besiege it, but raised the siege when Talbot having taken Conches came to confront him, and Talbot being assured, that it would again be set upon as soon as the Bastard was gone, did demolish it to the very ground, whilst businesses went thus in France; the ground works of Glocesters' ruin were laid in England, who relying upon his quality, was not aware that his brother's death had lessened that authority, which was due to him, as Uncle to the King, and Protector of the Kingdom, whereupon provoked by his ancient hatred of the Cardinal of Winchester's pride, he laid many faults unto his charge wherein though there might be some likelihood, yet were not his proofs sufficient to convince him, he objected unto him 24. Articles, (some of which touched likewise upon the Archbishop of York) that he had dared to do many things without the authority of the King, or him the Protector, to the offence of Majesty and of the laws; to the end, that in honour and dignity he might proceed wheresoever else of greater degree, that to enrich himself he had defrauded the Exchequer, and practised things prejudicial to the affairs of France, and that he had been the cause of the King of Scots liberty contrary to the interests of England, there were the contents of his most weighty objections which were by the King referred to the Council, and the Council consisting much of Ecclesiastical persons, the Duke was deluded, not with oppositions or difficulties, but with hopes & promises, till such time as the controversy falling into oblivion there was no more speech thereof: he had plunged himself into this business upon extraordinary disadvantage, his nature and the Cardinals were too much differing, for being more violent than revengeful, and satisfied in that he had vented his choler, he did not solicit expedition, whilst so harmful carelessness made him subject to be despised, and encouraged the Cardinal to revenge. This great Prelate's ambition was grown so high, as that he did pretend that King and Kingdom depended upon his directions, wherein he did so artificially behave himself, that though his actions were unblamable and unjust, yet did they to all men seem praise worthy and just, dissimulation and cunning are the characters of a wary Courtier, but not of a good Christian, as simplicity and candour are of no use, but of more danger to Princes then private men; Henry and Gloster lost themselves, for not having taken the other Council: the Cardinal did with the Duke, as doth a well experienced Captain with a Fort, who not battering the Wall undermines the foundations, being sure that the Battlements and Walls withal fall at once, without any hazard to himself, the foundations were the Duke's reputation, which falling it behoved him to fall, he caused Elinor Cobham Duchess of Gloucester, to be accused of treason witchcraft, and enchantment, for having made the King's image in wax, purposing that the King should consume away and perish, as that image should do, to the end that the Duke her Husband might come unto the Crown: her complices were Thomas Southwell, one of Saint Stephen's Canons in Westminster; john Hum a Priest likewise, Roger Bullenbrook reputed a great Necromancer, & Margery jordan surnamed the Witch of Eye: they were examined and convinced in Saint Stephen's Chapel before the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Duchess was sentenced to do public penance in three several parts of the city, and to perpetual imprisonment in the Isle of Man, john Hum was pardoned, the other Priest they say did die the night which did immediately precede his punishment, according to what he had prognosticated of himself, that he should die in his bed. The Witch was burnt in Smithfield, and Bullingbrooke being drawn at a Horse's tail to Tyburn was hanged and quartered, whether this imputation were true or no may be disputed by reason of john Hums being pardoned, and Bullingbrookes' constant affirmation at his death, that no such wickedness was ever imagined by them, how ever it was this business was in itself so shameful and scandalous, as the Duke did not any wise meddle therein, but patiently endured the affront, and the being parted from his wife. The losses which this mean while were suffered in Guienne, made Henry resolve to send thither some little succour, till such time as he could provide greater; Sir William Woodvile was dispatched away with 800. men, and Proclamation made that whosoever would transport any victuals thither should be exempted from all taxations, which caused so much provision be sent thither as did supply the necessity of that Province: which being environed enemies could not make any use of the adjacent countries; Talbot was likewise dispatched away with 3000. Soldiers into Normandy, and that he might go with honour answerable to his deserts, he was by the King created Earl of Shrewsbury, a title which had not been made use of for 340. years from such time as William the Conqueror having bestowed it on Robert Montgomery, who came together with him from Normandy, and who had but two that did succeed him. It fell upon the person and family of Talbot, who have enjoyed it the space of a 190. years with a successive descent of ten Earls. Whilst these provisions were made in England, Count Armignac proffered his daughter for wife to Henry, together with all the places 1433. which he or his predecessors either by their own acquirement, or by gift, and investment from the Kings of France had possessed in Gascony; together with moneys and assistance in the recovery of such places as were detained from him by Charles, by Monsieur d'Albret, and others of that Province, till such time as he should be entirely Duke thereof as anciently he was of Aquitane, the council did well approve of these offers, and Ambassadors were sent unto him, but this business was not, nor indeed could not be handled with so much see resieas to be kept from Charles his ear, who caused notice to be given unto him for his personal appearing at the Parliament, to be holden within 15. days at Tholouse, and from thence at Paris. That which moved the Count to this offer (to boot with his ambition of having his daughter a Queen, and his dislike for not having a share in Court answerable to his greatness, and his father's great deserving) was his desire to appropriate to himself the county of Comminges, whereunto he laid pretence; jane Countess of Comminges daughter to the Count of Bullen, and Comminges, and widow to john Duke of Berny, who married her when she was but 13. years old, and he himself above 50. was married a second time to Mathias Count de Castelbuono of the house of Fois, who had by her one daughter, but being hardly handled by her husband, she made a will whereby she made King Charles her heir, in case her daughter should die without lawful heirs, for the which her husband shut her up in prison when she was fourscore years old, upon this her daughter died, and Charles having his hands full else where. Mathias maintained by the Count de Fois, and by agreement with Count Armignac, both his cousin; smade himself master of many places of that County; Amignac doing the like, who laid pretences thereunto, the King who was obliged to assist jane, and desires to enjoy in his due time the inheritance that was given him, commanded her husband to present her at Tholouse, where asperation between her & him being declared, half the county was assigned over to her, & the other half reserved for the king's use, but she dying some three months after, and Count Armignack having usurped many places, Charles' sent the Dolphin against him: so as being abandoned by Count Perdriak, his brother by Count de March and by Salatzar a Captain of Arragon, who did all sustain him, he shut himself up in a Castle, where thinking to cozen the Dolphin's young years by simulation and treaties, he was by the same arts cozened by the Dolphin, who was a great master therein, for when he suffered him to enter into the Castle he took him prisoner, and sent him his wife, his second son and two daughters to Carcassonne, from whence he was delivered at the intercession of Count de Fois, his desire then to revenge this affront, and to regain this County from Charles made him offer this marriage which took no effect as we shall see. The Pope and all the other Princes of Christendom, continued in the desire of making a peace between these two Kings, to the which they thought the expenses they had been at, and the reciprocal evils they had suffered would make them more inclinable; to this purpose an Assembly was appointed at Tours, whither came most of the Princes of the blood, and those who came not sent their substitute, amongst which the Duke of Burgony sent his; for Henry came William Poole, Earl of Suffolk, Doctor Adam Mollins Lord Keeper, the Lord Robert Rosse and others, for Charles' the Duke of Orleans, Lodovick of Burbone, Count de Vandosme, and Monsieur de Pesigni, but meeting with the wont difficulties not likely to be ended in a short time; A truce for 18. months was concluded, by which means they hoped they might meet with the necessary expedients for the desired peace, some report that upon this occasion Henry demanded Margaret of Anjou daughter to Renatus King of Sicily, for wife which was not so: for his marriage with the daughter of Count Armignack was at that time thought as good as concluded; her father's performance of his promises being only expected for the consummating thereof, the only mover in the other was the Earl of Suffolk, who did it of his own head, not acquainting any of his Colleagues therewithal, and wherein he did too boldly exceed his instructions, if he did it out of belief, that this new alliance by blood was requisite, to the joining of their minds, he was much too blame, for if consanguinity be of no moment amongst Princes, when particular interest is in question, much less affinity, if not, Henry being the son of Charles his sister, no tie save that of father could more strictly have united them, so as it did not much import that the Queen of France should be Aunt by the Father's side to her whom he should marry, since Charles was Uncle to himself by the mother's side: what was credited was, that the Earl did this to advance himself, by means of this Lady intended by him for wife to Henry without any further respect. The conclusion was that the King of Sicily should have all restored unto him, which did patrimonially belong unto him in Anjou and Maine, and which were now enjoyed by the King of England, so as it was not sufficient that this unlucky marriage should neither bring profit with it, nor any hopes thereof, but that to make it on all sides disadvantageous, he should endow his father in law with these countries which had been won at expense of blood, and which for safety and reputation ought to be unallienable from the Crown of England, but the fate (if any such thing there be) which led him unto ruin was in-evitable, for the Eàrle of Suffolk being returned to England figured forth this match as a means to end the wars, to procure peace, and make the Kingdom happy, whereby he blinded the Council, and painted forth the Lady in the most lovely colours that beauty could be set forth in, and in conditions the most sublime that might become a Princess (whereby he alured Henry) so as though no man did approve of it, as thinking it good, some seemed to approve of it, not to displease Suffolk, and all to please the King, who was persuaded to it; for it is dangerous for such as council Princes, to have more regard to the Prince his profit, then to the humouring of him in his affections. Which were it otherwise Princes would be too happy, and peradventure not acknowledged: God the author thereof, who doth therefore counterpoise the power of their might with the impotency of their passions. The Duke of Gloucester was he alone who to his cost opposed it, thinking the former intended match not fit to be broken, as well for that it was amiss to fail the Count Armignac, as likewise that his alliance was more advantageous and of more pregnant hopes, of honourable achievements, whereas the other brought nothing with it, but loss, the City of men's, maine, and that part of the Duchy of Anjou, which Henry possessed serving as a Bulwark to Normandy, did to the first loss of their surrendering add a second of weakening the affairs in France; which ought to be maintained in their full force to the end that the treaty of peace might be made upon the better terms, but all these reasons were to no end, since the heavens had decreed that the Duke should for this cause lose his life, the King his life and state, the Crown all that it possessed abroad, and the kingdom that peace at home which till then it had enjoyed. When Charles understood that Henry was herewithal contented, he sent unto him the Count de Vandosme, a Prince of the blood and the Archbishop of Rheins, who concluded the match; the more to honour this unfortunate marriage, Henry created three Dukes and one marquis, he made john Holland Earl of Huntingdon, Duke of Excester; Humphrey Earl of Stafford, Duke of Buckingham; Henry Earl of Warwick, Duke of Warwick; and the Earl of Suffolk, who was the author thereof marquis of Suffolk, and for his further honour made him his deputy, to celebrate the formality of espousal, and to bring his bride over into England. He went then, and had with him his wife, and a great many of Ladies and Gentlemen, carriages, and letters for her father, who 1445. was rich in titles of imaginary kingdoms, as of Sicily and jerusalem; had not means to send her to her husband; so as all the charge which was very vast fell to Henry's share; being come to Tours he married her in the name of his master, in the presence of the King of France. The Queen and a great number of Princes and Lords, amongst which were the Dukes of Orleans, Calabria, Alencon, and Britain: the marriage was solemnised with feasts and tilting, after which with the like or better, she was married by Henry in England, and crowned Queen; Normandy lay openly exposed by the surrendering of the two Provinces. Count Armignac was scandalised, and shortly likely to revenge himself: the kingdom was fallen into an Abyss, from whence it was not to be raised but by the death of the King, the ruin of the Queen, the desolation of the house of Lancaster, the destruction of the Nobility, the rebellion of the people, and the alteration of the State. This separation of Arms caused the Duke of York and many other Commanders return to England, that they might consult of what 1446 provisions were to be made before the expiration of the truce, to the end that Normandy being well fortified, Charles might be brought to a well conditioned peace, and if not that they might be able to make a powerful war. But England did in this an evil mannager, who having a house covered with Lead, sells the Lead, and then covers it again with straw, to the end that a spark of Fire by reason of this new covering may be sufficient to set it on fire; the given Provinces were the Led sold, and prodigally squandered; the provisions for Normandy, the thatching over with straw (the two Provinces might have entertained the war, and being lost have advanced time, which is the father of the changes of fortune, for loss in war doth seldom happen in one action and at one instant.) To this purpose a Parliament was called, subsidies paid, Soldiers raised, and the Duke of Somerset made a Regent of France, in stead of the Duke of York, the marquis of Suffolk, (were it either to boast of his favours, or that he foresaw the future danger) made a long speech in the upper house, relating his ownemerits, in the making of this truce, and this match, and advertising the Lords, that since the truce expired the next April, and peace did not ensue, they should do well to take such order, as that Normandy might not be endamaged, for it was to be believed that the French finding it ill provided would make use of their advantage, that having advertised the King thereof, he did now the like to them; to the end that if any evil did happen, it should not be said to have been for want of any good admonition, he desired them in discharge of his innocency to think on this; the same thing was done the next day in the lower house, the Messengers whereof entreated the Lords of the upper house, that by joint consent of both houses this present action might be registered amongst the acts of Parliament; he obtained what he desired, the favours of favourites being like to little Rivulets, which easily glide into the current waters, even of the greatest rivers, they sent their Speaker to the upper house, where the Lords who did likewise waver with the wind, did on their knees beseech the King, that in respect of great services done by the marquis he would vouchsafe him this, and whatsoever other favour, for that he could not bestow his graces upon a more worthy subject and the King who of himself was wonderful prodigal of his favours to him, and loved to be entreated thereunto, as not willing to seem to do it, of his own inclination answered them in such a manner, as every one might see he made him the haven of his favours, and the object of other men's respects, the action was registered, but not with that success as was hoped for, to witness that the peoples and Princes favours are of short duration, and oftentimes unfortunate, he shortly after created him Duke, he gave him two rich wardships; that of the countess of Warwick, and of Margaret the daughter of john Duke of Summerset, who was afterwards the mother of Henry the seventh; he likewise at his request created john de Fois, Count de Longaville, and Captain de Bus, Count de Candale both of them Guascons, all these favours served only to make his downfall the more sudden, which usually doth not fail being caused either by the hatred of private men, or of the Prince, for such men's insolences increasing with their authorities, and their authorities growing greater by their favour, they become insupportable, and having once offended, cannot support themselves but by new offences, whereby begetting hatred and envy amongst private men, and society in Princes they must needs fall and be overthrown, either by the one or the other. According to Articles of marriage all places belonging to Anjou and maine, were already surrendered except Manns, the which being of more importance than the rest, Charles did believe they had no intention to deliver it up, so as having raised a convenient Army he prepared to have it by force, which when Henry understood he gave order that it should be forthwith surrendered unto him, not so much for that he should not have just cause to break the truce, as that by justice he was to do it. But Chartier and Monstrellet say, that the English held it till the year 1449. at which time Charles besieged it: and that the Lord Privy Seal being chosen Bishop of Winchester caused it to be yielded up unto him, but how ever it were this cessation from Arms wrought the like effects in England, as in a healthful body the forbearing of moderate exercises doth, which by filling it with bad humours bringeth infirmities upon it. The natures of the late married couple were, if not opposite, sufficiently differing; the husband was of a womanish inclination, the wife of a manlike spirit; the King was humbled, evout, spiritually given, caring only for his soul's health: the Queen was proud, ambitious, worldly given, and not to be quieted till having brought the kingdom to be governed as she pleased; she might see herself free from Rivals in the government. The Duke of Gloucester was no ways pleasing to her, as well for that he had opposed her marriage (an injury not to be forgotten) as likewise that her husband being long since out of his minority was still governed by him as formerly when he was under age; the which being observed by such as did not love the Duke, they let slip no occasion whereby they might work his ruin. The marquis of Suffolk for that he could not rise to the height he aimed at, during his life▪ Humphrey Stafford Duke of Buckingham, for that being son of Anne Plantagenet, who was descended from Thomas Duke of Gloucester, the seventh son of Edward the third, if the Duke were out of the way he should be the first Duke of England, wherefore he thought that this prerogative, and his being cozen to the King, would cause his advancement; the Cardinal of Winchester by reason of his emulation which their reciprocal hatred had kindled, not to be quenched but by the last of revenges. The Archbishop of York for that Gloucester having declared himself his enemy, in his last accusations he was desirous (though not according to the Gospel) to render him evil for evil, but his eminency and universal love had rendered all their designs vain, had they not come assisted by the Laws. They accused him at the Council Table of many faults, of all which he did with such sincerity acquit himself, as that he freed the Counsels mind from any the least scruple, and used such arguments as did add to his reputation. They objected unto him that he had caused many to be put to death contrary to the Laws of the Kingdom, inferring thereby that hatred and cruelty had been the directors of his justice, whilst that whereby they were most scandalised, was that he could not endure wicked men. These forenamed men, together with them, the Queen perceiving that nothing was done, caused a Parliament to be called at Berry in 1447. Suffolk, whither he came, together with the rest of the Peers, not dreaming of any evil; relying more upon his own integrity then by reason of the others malice he ought to have done. The first day of Parliament passed over quietly, spent in the accustomed ceremonies, the second day he was made prisoner by the Lord high Constable of England, accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham and many others, a guard was set upon him, his servants were all taken from him whereof 32. were imprisoned; and he not long after (Hale saith the very next night) was found dead in his bed, some affirming, that he died of an Apoplexy, some of an Imposthume in his Head, but although there was no doubt, but that his death was violent; yet did no man know of what sort, some thought he was strangled, some stiffeled between two pillows, and many, that he had a red hot spit thrust in at his fundament; five of the prisoners were examined and condemned, but as they were carrying to execution they were set at liberty by the marquis of Suffolk, who brought their pardon signed by the King; which did not satisfy the people, for the saving of these men's innocency did not salve the treason used to the Duke. By a pardon given to one of his servants, may be seen the pretence they took to commit this Murder, where it is said, that he was one of the many Traitors who came in the train of Humphrey Duke of Gloucester to destroy the King, and set his Wife Elinor at liberty. The death of this Prince was lamented by the whole Kingdom, from whom he deserved the surname of good; for so in effect, he was a lover his Country a Friend to good men, a Protector of the learned, whereof he himself was one, as well versed in the laws of the Kingdom as whatsoever Lawyer, and if he erred in his enmity with the Duke of Burgony, and the Cardinal of Winchester 'twas through the greatness of his Spirit, the which if it bereave not of fault, doth at least diminish the blame, for all humanity is subject to error. After him the title of Gloucester was reputed ominous; for the four last Glocesters came to violent ends. Thomas Duke of Gloucester son to Edward the third was strangled at Callais, Thomas Spencer Earl of Gloucester beheaded at Berry, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester dead as you have heard, and Richard Duke of Gloucester slain in a Battle of civil War after he was King by the name of Richard the third, as we shall see. I do not withstanding believe, that if occasion be offered, no man will refuse the honour; since before these unfortunate four, there were cleaven of that title, nine of which died natural deaths; the other two jeffery Mandeville, and Gilbert Clare slain in tournament: the first in war, the other before Sterline; so as they are not to be ranked with the last four: since their deaths happened through malice or civil war. The Cardinal of Winchester enjoyed not the content of this his death above 14. or 16. days for he died to see the ruin of his house of the which he was the chieefest raiser, for doubtless if Gloucester had lived; the Duke of York had not risen, and the Queen who by his death thought to have established her authority, lost thereby all she could lose (her life excepted) her Husband, son, and Kingdom, for her ignorance in things to come threw her headlong upon those evils which at the price of her own blood, she would willingly have redeemed together with the life of Gloucester, but too late foresight brings repentance; remedies not. Having by so cruel a way obtained her desire, she employed all 1448. her endeavours how to establish an authority which under her Husband's name might make her absolute in the Kingdom, she raised Suffolk from marquis to Duke, which title he but a short time enjoyed, for fortune of her own nature inconstant is much the more so, when her favours are conferred without merit. The Duke of York who saw that all these things redounded to the advancement of his designs, slipped not his occasions, for laying open to his friends, and the male contents in how bad a condition the Kingdom was, the King weak and governed by a Woman, under the haughty direction of the Duke of Suffolk, it was easy for him to persuade them to establish him in his own right, since the house of Lancaster did usurp the Crown, and held it contrary to the laws of the Kingdom; the laws of blood and nature, this he did with so much vehemency insinuate, so opportunely and to people who desired nothing more than change, as it was easy for him to draw unto him subjects of the most eminent condition, who that they might have followers and preferments were apt to uphold him. To this was added the greatness of his family, and the family of his wife; Cicelli Nevil by both which he was allied to the greatest men and chiefest families of the Kingdom; his reputation won in France, but chiefly his right unto the Crown in a time, when if he had no right they might have imagined some in him, so to withdraw themselves from the Government of an imperious Woman and a proud favourite who ruling all as they listed, and excluding all others made use of the authority of a weak King who had nothing of Prince in him but name. This was the first stone which Richard Plantagenet Duke of York laid in the groundwork of the general ruin and ruin, of himself, wherein did no less appear the common consent, by the secrecy in such a business of great importance which was inviolabely observed, than the ill satisfaction given by such as governed, who were not aware that by alienating such as ought to have depended upon them, and not spying into their actions, nor making use of liberality and hopes, (things usual in him who knows how to govern) they were of necessity to fall, but on the contrary they trusted every one whilst they discontented all and minded not any friendship, believing the bare name of King to be sufficient, whilst weakness and simplicity made the King to be despised, and them hated, who made use thereof. The first day of April 1447. the truce expired and the desire of peace prorogued it till the first of june 1449. when an accident broke forth which interrupted the quiet, and quite dashed the hopes of a conceived peace: Duke Francis the first who was comprehended in the truce, reigned in Britanny, and Francis Surianne named the Arroganne who for services done to the Crown of England had deserved the order of the Garter, was Governor in low Normandy, his Garrisons namely those of Saint jaques and Beveronne, had by reason of their commerce discovered the weakness of the neighbouring frontier Towns, especially of Tongeresse in Britanni, the which being rich and ill guarded was by the Arragon scaled by night and taken together with the Castle, not without the mark of much cruelty and avarice, for to boot with the breach of truce; and the taking of other men's goods in a time, when in all reason they ought not to have done so, they slew many of the Inhabitants and pilladged all they had, giving more scandal by the circumstances then by the deed itself. Duke Francis complained hereof by a Herald to the Duke of Somerset, requiring of him amends for the injury and the restitution of the place, together with what was taken from thence. Somerset coolly replied, that the accident displeased him, that he did approve thereof, and that he should make such satisfaction as he should think fit; Francis was herewithal no whit pleased, but represented his injury to Charles as done unto his Majesty, requiring aid at his hands, affirming he was resolved to re-have his own by the way of Arms, with him to force it, he forthwith dispatched away Messengers to England, and Normandy: making his complaints and received the like answer as formerly the Duke had done. And Somerset sent unto him two Knights (one of which were Sir john Hungerford) affirming by them that the action displeased him, as being blameful and done without his knowledge, but reparation for the injury and satisfaction for what was taken away being demanded, they said they had no other order, but to endeavour that all places as well of the one side as the other should remain according to the truce in their former secrecy. To the which Charles replied, that if the Duke of Somerset were really sorry for what had happened, he should do well to show it by making amends, for the injury done, which if he should not do he would fail his Nephew the Duke of Britanny, and therefore he would not be tied to secure any place, nor was it reason, that being injured and endamaged, he should be denied revenge; since he was allied in blood to the greatest Princes and Lords of his Kingdom. That Somerset should mind his own affairs, for so would he do, since it was but reason that the English having possessed themselves of what was another's in time of truce: the offended party might be free from any tye of obligation, and allowed to recent the injury received. Hungerford not knowing how to answer him, desired him to send some body to Sonniers a Town belonging unto Charles, whither the Duke of Somerset would likewise send some other. Charles willingly did this, but he sent thither Monsieur de Cowlant, and two others; but whilst they were treating with Somersets deputies, Monsieur de Bresse Captain of Sonniers, in company with Monsieur de Manni, Robert Hacquet, and james Claremont, took Pont d'Arc; being therein assisted by a Merchant who wont to go from one place to another, and therefore well known, was got to the Gate upon break of day with a Cart, wherein were two Soldiers apparelled like Carpenters, and called for the Gate to be opened, the which being done, he stayed his Cart upon the draw Bridge, and feigning to take out some money to reward them, he let a piece of silver fall, which the keeper of the Gate stooping to take up, he was slain before he could raise himself again by the two Soldiers, and together with him an Englishman that came to open the Gate at the same time, the forenamed Captains came from forth their ambush, and with their followers entered the Town; they took sixscore English prisoners in their beds, amongst which the Lord of Faulconbridge the Commander of the Town (whom Argentres believes to be a Dutchman came thither the night before) and sent them all to Sonniers, this accident displeased the English, but Charles liked it well; of whom restitution being demanded: he replied, he would willingly do it, when Tongerres with all the Losses and interests thereof should be restored to the Duke of Britanny. The which the English could not do for the losses and interests of the Town were irreparable, life could not be restored to them that were slain, and the spoils estimated at 1600000. Crowns were diversely disposed of by them, that took them and emborsed them that were the Authors or Permitters thereof. This inconvenience could not have happened in a better time; for Charles being informed of the Duke of Glocesters' death, the Nobilities division, the King's weakness, and the Queen's detasted government; he thought it a fitting time to drive the English out of France: yet moved he not suddenly, to the end that the breach of truce might be on his side justifiable, he made a confederacy with the Duke of Britanny; with an obligation of reciprocal assistance by Sea and Land, and under the name of the Duke of Britanny (Charles consenting thereunto) Gerbory was taken by Monsieur de Money, and as many as were found there, put to the sword. Conques by Robert Hocquet; Coingnac, and Saint Magrine near Bordeaux in Gascony by Verdenne. Somerset complained of these invasions to Charles and required restitution, answer was made that he wondered, that the English who had taken Tongerres in time of truce, without any occasion given, and without restoring, should pretend the Duke of Britanny unjustly injured: should restore what by just reprisal he had taken from them. At last they came to conference in the Abbey of Boneport, the which proving fruitless, Charles resolved to make open war, and it succeeded well unto him; for not having before any design upon Vernuille, he understood that upon day break it was surprised by Peter Bresse and james Claremont: by the means of a Miller who was Sentinel there, of 120. English, that were there; some were slain, the rest fled into the Castle out of the Ditches, whereof the water being drained by the same Miller after a great assault it was taken by force, and those who remained alive retired themselves into a strong Tower called Legrize, a part from the Castle and begirt with a deep Ditch full of water, and which was not to be taken, but for want of victuals. The dunness was come to assist him in this siege, but hearing that Talbot came to the succour, he went to encounter him: Talbot hearing thereof withdrew himself to Harecourt, so as they both failed in their designs, the one in succouring the Town, the other in giving battle. At this same time came Count Saint Paul into the field with 4000 horse, he took Norgent by composition, from thence passing by Ponte d●… Are in company with Count de Eu, he marched on Honnefleur side to Ponte de Mare, whilst the dunness marched on the other side the River Riule. By joint agreement, they assailed that Town, each of them on their side, after long contestation taking it by force, and the English who had retired themselves into a strong house on the town's end, were constrained to yield themselves prisoners; Lizeux by the Bishop's means yielded itself before they came near it, so as the Inhabitants received no damage, nor yet the neighbouring places who followed the example thereof. Saint jaques de Beveron battered by Monsieur de 〈◊〉, and valiantly defended, was yielded up; the laws and goods of the inhabitants saved: The Tower Gryse of which we have spoken, after a few days did the like; there being but 30. Soldiers in it, the Garrison of Nantes would defend themselves, but the Inhabitants seeing Charles near at hand; and that the dunness had appeared before it with 6000. men, made good certain stations against the English, who having enemies without and within yielded, and Charles his people entered the Town to secure them, from them without, who pretended to sack it. The Castle of Laigni was by the Captain betrayed, and those of the Garrison made prisoners; Vernon yielded itself, the Inhabitants whereof would not defend themselves, so as the Garrison having it, witnessed under their hands that they were abandoned, came forth with their weapons and baggage, and the Town was given to Charles by the dunness in consideration of his service; the French forces were divided into four armies commanded by the Duke of Britanny, the dunness, the Counts de Eu, and Saint Paul, and by the Duke d' alanson; besides the Lances and Archers which waited upon Charles his person, so as it is no wonder, if for the most part they won it at first sight since notwithstanding the forces, the Inhabitants inclinations did decline from the English party; the Castle of Anjou yielded as soon as summoned, by means of a Portugal who was Governor thereof, who Charles left in the same charge in recompense of his service unfaithfully performed to his former Master: Gourney yielded upon the like terms, Rocheguione commanded by john hovel an Englishman was surrendered with liberty to the English Garrison, and leave for himself to enjoy his wife's lands, who was a French woman and to continue still Captain of some Castle; the French now thinking, that they lost too much time by keeping all in one body. The two Counts de Eu and Saint Paul went to besiege Chasteaunent de Nicourt, they took the Town by assault and the Castle upon conditions in 15. days, the dunness besieged Chasteau, Cambresse, which yielded in seven day's space; Le Chasteau de Harecourt bargained to do the like if it were not succoured within a prefixed time which it was not: jammes yielded suddenly. Argenteu defended itself, but the Inhabitants having drawn the enemy into the Town, the English retired into the Castle, which having a breach made in it by the cannon, they got into a tower, from whence they came forth with white truncheous in their hands; the Duke of Britanny accompanied by his Uncle, the Constable having left Peter of Britanny his brother upon the frontiers of Tongerres and Arranches with 300. Lances for defence of the Country) entered into Normandy, he came before Constances', where when he had tarried but one day, the Citizens forced the Garrison to depart, they themselves remaining in the same condition as before the war. St. Lo. Hommet, Nentreill, Tonigny, Benterill, Hambre, Mota, da Eresque Hay, Chantelon, Auney, and other like places compounded; upon the like terms Carentesse held out three days, the Garrison afterwards marching out with a Truncheon in their hands, and the inhabitants set at liberty, Ponte D'ovey and Ga●…rey were taken by assault, the Duke d' Alansonne entered thereinto, and the English withdrew themselves into the Castle, but they made but short abode there. Fortune this mean while (as if she meant to undo England on all sides) raised a rebellion in Ireland, which though it did no harm (for the Duke of York was sent thither who appeased it) yet the evil not caused by the Malady, was occasioned by the Physician; for the Duke having quieted the tumults, won so much of friendship in that kingdom, that for his sake they forsook the King to follow the house of York; to the which they did ever after passionately adhere. Charles was then at Sonniers, whither the King of Sicily, and Count du Maine his brother being come unto him, with fresh supply of men, he resolved to pursue his fortune in totally driving the English out of Normandy; he gave order for the besieging of Chasteau Galliard, this place was built upon a rock, upon the River, not to be lost but by famishing, the Seneschal of Poictou pitch his Camp before it, whither Charles came shortly after himself in person; this mean while the Duke of Alansonne took Grisney upon composition, and Sir Richard Marbury Governor of Glizors who had married a French woman, made his peace by his brother's means, took his oath of Allegiance to Charles, betrayed his honour, kingdom and King, that without ransom he might re-have two sons which were taken at Ponte de Mere, and that he might enjoy his wife's patrimony, and be captain of Saint jermans in Say: wealth being more powerful with him then any sense of honour; there remained no place of importance in all Normandy except Rhoan her metropolitan, which did not take part with Charles; he assembled all his Forces to take it in being come to Ponte de Ar●…, he sent his Heralds to summon it to allegiance, but the English would not suffer them to do their office; fearing lest the people might mutiny. The dunness who was come before it, perceiving no commotion in the City, and annoyed by perpetual rain and sallies, after three days returned to Ponte d' Arc. Those of Rhoan this mean while, having made themselves masters of two towns (by whose entre-pressed curtain they might give him entry) recalled him, whereupon he returned, and some 40. of his men having entered the town by Scal●…do, they were surprised by Talbot who (though played upon from the town) slew the greatest part of them, and drove the rest from the walls. The slaughter of the Town's men, then of the assailants, the Rampard between the two towns was covered with blood and dead bodies, besides those who in throwing themselves from the Towers broke their limbs, or lost their lives, but this encounter in appearance little favourable to Charles, was that which brought him the victory, for the Citizens fearing lest that the English resolute in defence of the town might make them run hazard of their lives, resolved together with the Archbishop come what come would to surrender, so as presenting themselves before the Duke of Somerset; and acquainting him with the danger that the City was in, and with their resolution; they demanded the surrendering thereof, he willingly would have delayed and have punished them, but having enemies without and within he seemed to be therewithal content. The chief captains, together with the Archbishop went to Ponte d' Arc, offered to surrender the city, demanding leave for those to depart who would the preservation of their goods, who remained; and free passage for the English and their goods; the which being granted, and relation thereof made in the town house, it pleased the inhabitants, but not the Duke, who going from thence, caused all his men take Arms and made himself strong at the Bridge, in the Palace and in the Castle, the which when the Citizens saw they did the like, and placing strong guards every where they advertised the King, offered to throw open the gates unto him, drive back such English as were fallen into the City, and ●…lew some seven or eight of them: nor yet contented herewithal they made themselves masters of the walls, turret's, and gates. Upon this commotion the dunness came thither, and seeing the City defended by Citizens, he placed himself before Saint Katherine's, demanding the surrender thereof, the Captain thereof when he had not above 120. Soldiers, and who knew the King was coming thither with his Cannon yielded. They were by a Herald led to the gate S. Owen, where meeting with the King; he advised them to use no violence by the way, but to pay for what they should take; and answer being made that they had no money, he caused ten pound to be given them, being come to Rhone he alleged in the aforesaid Fort of St. Katherine's, whilst the Keys of the City were presented to the dunness, as he was with all his Army in battle array before the gate Martinville, the troops which he brought in, took their stand before the Castle, and the Palace guarded by 1200. Soldiers, and kept by the Duke and Talbot. The Duke had quit the bridge, and was too late aware of his ill advisement in excluding himself from the City's capitulation, whilst he had neither strength to defend it nor to punish it, he desired to speak with Charles who yielded thereunto, he desired he might be permitted to depart according to the capitulation agreed upon by the City, the King replied he was not comprehended in that capitulation since he himself had broken it by revolting against the City, by endeavouring to hinder the surrender thereof, and by fortifying himself in the Palace and in the Castle, actions contrary to that agreement which he pretended to make use of, that it behoved him to pay for this by surrendering of Honneflour, Harflour, and all the country of Caux, if he would have his liberty, to the which the Duke consented not, but returned much confused to his former station. The Palace was besieged, it had gates without and within the City, but it was impossible to get out, for that without was straightly guarded, the like was done unto the Castle, and nothing but giving fire unto the Ordnance already adjusted against them both, was wanting to enforce them: to boot with this they had but little victuals, many mouths, and small hopes. The duke desired a second hearing, the King granted it, he was received by the Heralds, and at coming forth of the City met by Count Clerimont, eldest son to the Duke of Burbone, his demands being the same as formerly. Charles his answer was likewise the same, so as the Duke was much blamed as being too impudently obstinate, he had no reason to look for better capitulation since his condition grew worse, he thought it was bootless to importune the King the third time, therefore forced by necessity he spoke with the dunness, from whom he obtained a truce till the 24. of October, which was prorogued 12. days, from day to day, in all which time granting what he had denied to do, to wit, the forenamed towns, and denying what was not before required of him, the delivery up of the Earl of Shrewsbury in hostage for the performance of his promises, it was at last concluded that he, his wife children and soldiers, as well of the Palace as of the Castle should go their ways, their lives and goods saved, that he should set at liberty such prisoners as should be found with him, that he should not carry away with him his greatest pieces of Ordnance, that he should pay unto the King within the space of one year next coming 50000. Crowns to the dunness, and those that joined with him in the conclusion of the treaty 6000. that he should satisfy all debts ought by him, or his in the City, and that he should deliver up into the King's hands, or his Commissioners Angues, Candale, Tanchervelle, Bon-Isle, Honnefleur and Monstrevilliers; that he should oblige himself hereunto by hand writing, and give hostages thereupon; the chief whereof should be Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury. The towns were restored except Honneflour, the which the Governor thereof refused to surrender, which caused the detainement of Talbot, and the rest of the hostages, whilst these things were treated of at Rhoan, the Duke of Britain made himself master of Tongerres, after having besieged it above a month, so as having battered it, and being ready to assault it; Francis Surian who did defend it, together with five or six hundred English yielded it up, their Arms and Horses saved, and not permitted to carry any thing out, save each of them a little bundle. He who had been cause of the violation of truce, whereby so many mischiefs were occasioned, betook himself to the French side; I know not whether fearing his own safety or some less excusable cause. The Duke of Alansonne besieged Bleeme, a place which patrimonially did belong unto him, and which for some days was stoutly defended, they articled to surrender if they were not succoured by the twentieth of December; this was the clematericall year to England, seven multiplied it by itself, producing 49. which after so many losses, ended with the loss of Harflore; the King went thither in person the third of October, Cannons and Mines brought it, to parley on Christmas eve, and on Christmas day it yielded, those of the Garrison were furnished with shipping to transport them, and had safe conduct by land, together with their weapons and goods, the Soldiers without suffered much in this short siege, for the season was very violent in rain and inundations, so as the waters entered into all the Huts throughout the whole Camp; this notwithstanding they willingly underwent all incommodities, seeing the King expose himself to all dangers, his example made them willing to suffer with him; the only way to infuse patience into the French, for being led on by their King they out did themselves, doing that under his command, which under another's had been impossible for them to do; and because we have diciphered this King else where with affections, much differing from these present actions, we must cite Hallian for our discharge, who will free us from reproach telling what happened in the year 1445. he falls upon these words. In the concourse of so many affairs the King suffering himself to be transported by pleasures, fell in love with a Gentlewoman belonging to the Queen his wife, called Agneta Sorrell borne in Onvergne, a Lady so fair, as she acquired the name of Agneta the fair, and to the end that she might have the title, the King gave her during her life le Chasteau de Beante, near to the Boys de Saint Vincent; and caused there to be erected that great Pavilion which at this day is there to be seen all covered. When she was called the Lady of Beauty; the King had by her four daughters, all married into good houses of this Kingdom, though some say he had but one married to Monsieur de Bresse. Of Normandy and others; That she lived not long, and that the King did not avow her for his, but though the affection the King bore her lessened his due respects unto his wife, and took from her much of of the rights of marriage, yet was she fain to swallow this bitter pill and patiently permit the fair Agneta enjoy the best of her husband's affections: 'tis said that when she saw the King careless, effeminate, not minding the affairs of his kingdom, nor the victories which the English won; she one day said unto him, that when she was a very young girl, she was told by an ginger that she should be beloved by one of the most courageous and most valiant Kings of Christendom, and that when she had the honour to be beloved by him, she thought he had been that valiant and courageous King foretold by the ginger, but seeing him so soft natured, not minding his affairs, normaking head against the English, and Henry their King, who before his face had taken so many Cities of his, she very well perceived she was deceived, and that this valiant courageous King could be none other but the King of England, and therefore said she, I will go find him out, for he is that King foretold me by the ginger, and not you, who neither have courage nor valour, since you suffer your kingdom to be lost and do not resent it. These words pronounced by her, whom he loved better than he should have done, did so touch him to the quick as that he fell a weeping, and awakening himself, took courage upon him, gave not himself so much to hunting and dalliance as he was wont, so as by his good fortune, and the valour of his good Commanders who faithfully served him, he drove the English out of all France, Calais excepted. I was desirous to place here the words of this Historian, not so much to show that I did not lie in my other contrary descriptions, as that it being my duty to praise virtue and blame vice, I have done it in their due places, as every writer ought to do particularly where they speak of Princes, to the end that those who are alive may thereby be admonished, that when they are dead the same rules will be observed in the writing of their story. The affairs in Guienne. Though they did not precipitate so fast of as those off Normandy, Guichus a strong Castle, four leagues distant from Bayone, was besieged with a formal army by Monsieur de Lantree, brother to the Count, and Bastard de Fois; 4000 English went to succour it, and that their coming might be the more unlooked for, they embarked themselves in the River that passeth by Bayone, and landed not far from Guisches; Lantree who by spies was informed of their design left the siege, and treated them as they thought to have treated him, for they not dreaming of being discovered, were taken at such unawares as not having time to put themselves in order, they fled towards their Barks, were followed by the enemy and 1200. of them slain. George Stapleton one of their Commanders mistrusting to escape by flight, passed through the midst of the enemy, and was followed by 600. Lances, who valiantly fight saved themselves within Gueschin; but it did but little avail him, for the town being blocked up, and no body to succour it, he departed at unawares with his men, hoping to get into Bayone, but being followed by the Bastard de Fois, he and many of his men were taken prisoners; the Castle was yielded up the next day, and therewithal all the country which lies between Auxe and Bayone, wherein was contained 15. or 16. strong holds which afterwards caused to the French the more easy winning of whole Guascony. Charles did not forbear to prosecute his designs in Normandy, for all the frost and cold in january; he sent the dunness to besiege 1450. Honnefleur, whither he afterwards came in person, and was lodged in an Abbey not far from thence; valiant was the defence, and furious the onset, wherein neither wit nor labour was wanting. The town articled to surrender, if they should not be succoured by the eighteenth of February; but the Duke of Somerset not daring to trust the Citizens with Khan, which if he had done, wanting men to resist the French Forces, Honnefleur was enforced to run the same fortune the other towns did. jearnsy yielded, and paid down 10000 pieces of gold, not so much that the Garrison might be suffered free with their goods, as for the ransom of Momfort their Captain not long before taken at Ponte de Mere. This mean while the English though at variance at home, sent Sir Thomas Terrill into France, a renowned Captain, and who had been trained up in these wars from his youth, but being landed at Cherreburgh with 1500. men he could do no good with so small a number; and though in a short time he took in Liseux and Valonges, the matter was not so much, since the enemy being severally busied else where, had not leisure to divert them; he added to his number certain troops, drawn out of the few towns, which yet remained to the English, conducted by Sir Henry Mowbery, Sir Robert Vere, and Sir Robert Gough; which in all made us 5000. with these he judged it best only to march towards Caen, whither all the enemies Forces were bend to besiege it, and in case he should be met withal to fight as he did, for being come to jermingy, a place between Carenten and Baieux, on the 18. of April, they were met by Count Clerimont the Admiral of France, and the seneshall of Poictou with 600. horse, and 6000. foot; they fell to blows, and valiantly was the battle fought, till the Count Richmont coming in with fresh men, the English were defeated, 4000 of them slain, 800. taken prisoners, amongst which Terrill, Mowberry, and Sir Thomas Drue, Vere, and Gough; with the small remainder saved themselves; this is the relation made by the English. Monstrelet saith the French had but 600. Lances, besides their bowmen, whose number he doth not specify (but as we shall see every of his Lances proved four, and all on horseback) that the English pitched their Swords & Daggers against the ground, to the end that the enemy's horse might thread themselves thereon, they that were gotten into an advantageous place, with a little River and many Gardens full of trees at their backs, so as they could not be set upon behind, and that Count Claremont having with him but a small number of men, sent speedily to the Constable at Saint Lo, to come and succour him, who came thither with 240. horse, and 800. Archers, that being come to a mill where the English had beaten back 1500. Archers, and won two Culverins he set upon them, overcame them, and slew 3770. of them, and took 1400. prisoners. I will not relate what others write hereof, but only what is set down in the Chronicles of Normandy printed in Rhoan, the year 1581. no author's name set there, the which I cite in other places because it particularly appertains to the Province, it says that the English who landed at Chereburgh were 3000. that they had added to their number from the Garrison of Caen, five or six hundred from that of Bayeux, 800. from Vires, between four or five hundred, which number it sums up to make between five and six thousand whilst; give the number granted which is there but doubtfully spoken of, it makes but 4900. that Messieurs de Clerimont, de Castrus, de Mongaton, de Rays Admiral of France, the Senesshalls of Poictou, and Burbone, and james Renault met with them near to a village called jermingi, where they skirmished the space of three hours, but that the Constable Monsieur de Lavall and Marishall Louhac, coming up with 300. Lances and their bowmen, the battle was valiantly fought on both sides, the English discomfited, 3774. of them slain, and 1440. of them taken prisoners, that but five or six of the French were found missing, so as the English being well 6000. the good people say that God was the cause of this victory. Belforest says, there were 10. of the French slain, Hallian 8. Dupleix 4. or 5. and Serres agrees in the number with Hallian, yet he makes the miracle greater than do the rest for he saith, the English threw away their arms, and suffered themselves to be slain, and taken to mercy, many of them being spared through the courtesy of the French, his own account proves him a liar, but much more the accounts made by the rest, for he counting those who came from England to be 4000 and that with the addition; of the other Garrisons they made 8000. (whilst the Chronicle makes them in all but 4900.) and counting 3774. slain, and a greater number saved through the courtesy of the French, those who he makes to run away shamefully, will prove but a very small number, and his number exceeds the number mentioned in the Chronicle above 3000. To boot; he contradicts Hallian who writes that Gough escaped away with a good number, of horse & 1000 Archers, & whereas he accused them of cowardice. I know not with what face he can do it, if they for the loss of one Battle ought to be reputed cowards, what ought the French to be who lost so many, to fight till the last gasp is not cowardice, to defeat 1500. Bowmen and take two culverins is not cowardice; cowardice is a thing not known unto the English as Serres saith, they either fight with valour or retire with reason. Matthew Gough who upon all occasions gave trial of his valour, did not abandon his companions, as he calumniously affirms he did, but the case being desperate and the loss inevitable; he deserves commendations, in that he reserved himself for a better occasion, for had he done otherwise, he should rather have merited the name of fool then of valiant. This battle being won the French went before Virus, Captain Henry Mawbery their prisoner was there, so as it held not out long, the Garrison withal they had got to Caen, here count Clerimont parting from the Constable went into Britanny, and from thence to the siege of Auranches, which in about a Month was taken, the defendants being suffered to depart away weaponless. Tom●…laine a place near Mount Saint Michael might have held out longer; but there being no hopes of succour, the Inhabitants would not together with the Town, lose all that they had: The dunness Nivers and Eu, encamped themselves before Bayeux, where much was done before it fell into their hands, for though great breaches had been made by the cannon, and the Walls beaten down in many places, yet would they not yield: whereupon the Assailants who longed to sack the Town, seeing the breaches made and the walls ready to fall down, gave them two assaults, but in such disorder as doing it without their Captain's command, they were beaten back; yet Matthew Gough who after the Battle of jernimgi was got thither, knowing they were not able to resist the third assault surrendered it, coming forth with a cudgel in his hand, and with some 900. persons, the greatest part whereof were Women and Children, to whom carriages were permitted, though not articled for, wherein this rout was carried a pitiful Spectacle into Cheriburg, Bribec, Valonges, and Saint Saviour's, yielded to the Constable, who mustening all his forces together, besieged Caen on two sides, and made a Bridge to pass over the River; Charles came thither in person accompanied by the King of Cicely, the Duke of Calabria his son, the Duke of d'Allanson, the Counts of Maine, Saint Paul and Tancherville with a great many other Noble men, Gentlemen, and Archers, and took his Quarter in the Abbey of Dardenne; at his coming with much a do and loss of blood. The bulwarks of Vancelles, upon the River Dine were taken, mines were made in all places particularly towards Saint Stephens, so as the Walls being thrown down, they fought at handy blows. This notwithstanding, the City was not likely so soon to have yielded, and much less the Castle which very was strong, had it not been that a cannon shot lighting upon the Duchess of Somersets-house (a particular which the French conceive) made her with tears in her eyes beg of her Husband, not to suffer her and her Children remain any longer in so eminent danger. Caen was by King Henry given to the Duke of York, so as though the Duke of Somerset as Lieutenant general had all plenary authority in all other places, yet had he not so in this without Sir David Hall's consent, Commander of the Town under the Duke of York. But Somerset summoning together, the chiefest Citizens told them, that it was impossible to defend the Town, and that in endeavouring it, they would endanger being taken by force: His proposition was gladly entertained by them all, Hall opposed him showing him that though his authority was general, yet had he nothing to do in that place, which did belong to the Duke of York, and whereof the charge was committed to him, that the Town was not in such danger as he pretended, for it neither wanted men, munition, nor money, that therefore it behoved them to spin out the time till the Duke himself might come to the succour thereof, or else give order for the surrender thereof. That in the mean while, he would defend it against whatsoever power, since the Castle was impregnable; and though subject to the thunder of a cannon, yet only Women and Children were there at to be afraid, not men of war. Long were the disputes hereupon, but the Inhabitants siding with the Duke all of them naturally inclined to the French; and fearing to be sacked they mutined against the Captain, vowing that if he did not yield up the Town within three days they in despite of him would throw open the Gates to the King, their threats were not to be despised, since the common sort of Soldiers, and the Duke sided with them, so as he was constrained to yield, but would not have his name used in the articles, which were signed in this manner; the next day of the Feast of Saint john Baptist, that in the Town & Castle should be yielded up on the first of july, in case they were not before that succoured, that the Duke, Duchess, their Children & all others, that had a mind to depart might do so, the Soldiers with their horses & harness, the Inhabitants with their Wives, Children, and moveables, but at their own charges, that they should pay what they ought unto the Citizens, and should leave behind them all sort of Artillery. Sir David Hall took shipping for Ireland to advertise the Duke of York his master hereof, who was so much offended thereat, that if his former injuries received from the Duke of Somerset, did touch him to the quick, this vexed his very heart. Of a 100 Towns enjoyed by the English they now enjoyed but four; Lisieux commanded by Gough yielded, their lives and livelihood saved, but the Garrison was to march forth with a white truncheon only in their hand, False whereof the Earl of Shrewesbery was Master, by gift from Henry held out a while, the soldiers sailed forth to surprise the cannon which they saw appear, but being repulsed and Charles himself coming thither in person, they demanded parley, which was granted them; they agreed upon two articles, one for each side for them, that they should surrender the place if they were not succoured within twelve days. For Charles that he should set the Earl of Shrewesbery at liberty who was prisoner in Dreux. Dumfronte yielded the second of August, the lives and goods of the Inhabitants saved, Chereburg held last out, it was valiantly defended as long as their munition lasted, from thence, the Governor thereof Captain Thomas Gonvall, and the Garrison went to Callais, where he found the Duke of Somerset and the rest, who after so many adverse fortunes had retired themselves thither. Normandy returned back again to the possession of the French, 30. years after it had been conquered by Henry the fifth, and 3. were the causes of her loss, the first that a small number of Soldiers were not sufficient to retain it in obedience, for though it did patrimonially belong to the Crown of England, yet did it not any longer retain those former good affections to England, which had been canceled by the interposition of the government, of two ages from the time, that King john of England was deprived thereof by Philip the first, so as being French in situation, tongue, and customs; it was impossible to preserve her with the weak forces of bare garrisons, divided conquests, and which are aloof of, are not kept without great Colonies, or without the total rooting out of the people, especially when they neighbour upon great Princes, that may help them, the common wealth of Rome doth anciently teach us this, and in modern time the Turk and the Spaniards; the Turk in the Eastern Countries, and parts adjacent, the Spaniards in Cuba, Muxico, Pera, and the rest of America, wherein destroying as many as could hurt them, they reserved none alive, save some few, that they thought might do them service; the second was the Duke of Somersets avarice, for that he did not keep such garrisons there as he should have done, but pocketed up the money in his own purse, as appears by his conniving during the truce at the robberies, which with suppository beards were done upon the high ways by his Soldiers, whereby he gave just occasion of complaint unto the French, and by not paying of his Soldiers, lost all power either of suppressing their out rages, or punishing their selves, the third home divisions, of these three, the first is not to be questioned, the second though some what obscure, yet clear enough by the effects; the third may suffer a dispute, for though ill humours were conceived they were not ripe enough to cause the ruin of the state, ●…or would they have been at all conceived or bred under a princely spirited King▪ 〈◊〉 proceed from ill government; ill government from the want of judgement, insufficiency and easiness, and cruelty in the Prince; now to come to these ruins, I say the chiefest of them had their beginnings from the Duke of Suffolk, of whom there are divers opinions, Polli●…ore, Holinshead, and Hall, judge evilly of him, following the v●…lgar opinion which never adheres to favourites. Caniden and Speed evilly, but not with ingratitude, grounding themselves upon many truths. I in like manner believe both well and ill of him, the good in him was, that he was very virtuous, and of heightened conditions for what concerned himself, he waged war in France 44. years without intermission, in seventeen of which he never saw his own country, when he was taken prisoner, his ransom cost him 20000. pound sterling, though then he had no greater title than bare knighthood, he was of 30. years standing of the order of the Garter, his father was slain at the siege of Harflore, his elder brother in the battle of Ajencourt, and two younger brothers in the same wars, so as it cannot be denied but that his Prince and country ought much unto him, since he spent his life and livelihood in the service of the one, his reputation in the service of the other, his bad, that suffering himself to be gulded by a prodigious ambition (a usual disease amongst great wits he of himself did negotiate in an unexpedient and harmful match, and which was likely not to be denied, since that thereby those territories were surrendered which ought not have been quitted for any whatsoever cause, that he did too indiscreetly make use of the King's favour, occasioned by the Queen's more than ordinary inclinations. The Parliament was summoned at the Black Friars in London, wherein treaties being had against the Duke and the Queen, fearing lest he might therein suffer, she thought she might reap some advantage by removing the Parliament to Leicester, but, very few of the Nobility coming thither she, was forced to remove it again to Westminster; where both houses being full, the lower house presented many complaints against the Duke; whereof some were true and some false. The Articles were many, the chiefest that he had treated with the Bastard of Orleans, when he was sent Ambassador to Henry, to move Charles' to make war with England, to the end that he might make john son to the said Duke King, by marrying him to Margaret, daughter to the late Duke of Somerset, the presumed heir to the Crown, in case the King should have no children; Secondly that suborned by the said Bastard, he was cause of the Duke of Orleans freedom; Thirdly, that the loss of France and Normandy was happened through his advice, which was represented to the King of France by the said Duke of Orleans; Fourthly, that being sent Ambassador to make peace or truce he had condescended to the surrendering of Anjou and maine, without the knowledge of the other Ambassadors his fellow Colleagues, and that being returned to England he persuaded the King thereunto, so losing him the inheritance of those countries; Fiftly that having at the same time discovered the King's counsel unto the enemy, together with the defects of the Forts and number of Soldiers, the English by reason of these informations were driven out of France; Sixtly, that he had given the like informations to the dunness, when he was Ambassador in England; seventhly, that the King having sent Ambassadors into France to treat of peace, he was the cause why peace was not made, having by way of Anticipation advertised Charles of his advantages; Eightly, that in the Star Chamber he had made his boasts, that he had as much power in the Council of France as in that of England, and that by his power he could remove whatsoever Counsellors there; Ninthly, that corrupted by Charles he had retarded the melitia that was to go to France; Tenthly, that in the conclusion of the peace, he had not comprehended the King of Arragon nor the Duke of Britanny, both friends to the King, so as being comprehended by Charles he alienated the former, and made the other so great an enemy as Giles brother to the said Duke, remaining firm in his friendship to England, lost first his liberty and then his life. His answers to the first three Articles were, that he never had committed, nor so much as thought any such thing: To the fourth, that the business of the truce being left to his discretion, it could not be concluded without the surrendering of those states which was but a weak answer: since the marriage of the Queen, in consideration whereof this surrender was made, was not so much as dreamt of by any save himself; But on the other side it being approved of in Parliament, wherein both the houses did join in Petition to his Majesty to reward him for this his great good service, it follows that either the one Parliament or the other did amiss, since the one desired reward, the other punishment, for the self same action: the fifth, sixth, seventh, and ninth have no proof at all, but the accusers bare narration. In the eight he may be convinced but more of vanity then of any other error; in the tenth his fault was omission, but as it was not excusable in a personage of his condition, so it was not to be punished in the highest degree; his other accusations contained the topical faults of favourites, which in like persecution are usually alleged, that he had enriched himself out of the King's treasure, monopolised things belonging to the Crown, diminished the revenues thereof, removed worthy men from the Council, placing such in their rooms as had dependency upon him, that he was the chief instrument in the death of the Duke of Gloucester, which though it were likely enough yet were not their proofs sufficient to condemn him. Upon these complaints, he was sent unto the Tower as to be there forth coming, till he should give an account of what he was charged of, but being set at liberty about a month after, the people were thereat so highly incensed, that to avoid sedition, it was requisite to take from the Lord Say his place of Treasurer, all their places from all his other friends, and so banish him for five years out of England. But being embarked in Suffolk to go for France, he was set upon by a man of war belonging to the Earl of Excester, was fought withal, taken, beheaded near unto Dover in the same ship, and his body thrown upon the shore, from whence it was taken by one of his Chaplains, and buried in the College of Winkefield in Suffolk. This was the end of this man in whom so many causes both of blame and of praise concurring; I know not whether he ought to be blamed or praised. Vices are like Clouds which though they do not totally obscure the day, yet the thicker and blacker they are, the more horrid and fearful do they make it. Vices are not to be balanced with virtues no more than is air and water, with earth and fire, yet if amongst punishments the law givers could have taken away the memory of what was good in the guilty, I believe they would not have done it. If there had been no other evil in the Duke of Suffolk then the death of the Duke of Gloucester (whereof the signs are too manifest for him to clear himself) 'twere sufficient to eclipse all his other virtues in the estimation of all honest men, but be it as you will, his misfortune was very prejudicial to the King, since thereby he was deprived of a servant as necessary for his preservation, as by his Council and valour he was ready to preserve him. This chance did much inanimate those who syded with the Duke of York, who spared not in what they could to render the King despised and hateful, they forgot not to inculcate the ignominious loss of France; enough to bereave of reputation the most valiant Prince, that is much more him who was given to idleness and wretchlessness; that the state was governed by a proud woman, the chief cause of all their evils. Thus said, the people should do well to take example by the government of Ireland, where the wisdom and valour of the Duke of York had domesticated a savage people, reduced them to discipline and to obedience, that England stood in need of such a King, who were to be sought out if there were not such a one, and were to be chosen, were it not by nature, and by the Laws due unto him, so as if he were not privileged by his lawful pretensions, his only virtues were sufficient to purchase him the Kingdom. That Henry was illegitimate, yet a King to be borne withal, did he resemble his grandfather or his father; but that degenerating in worth, usurping the laws, and being by nature incapable, he was unworthy and not to be tolerated; since that as France had been lost by him, England would likewise run danger of being lost, if his preservation should be endeavoured. That necessity, the times, and chiefly the danger the common wealth was in, required other resolutions, that advantage and the common weals good being joined to justice, it would be injustice injury and ruin, not to provide for it. They did not preach this Doctrine in private, but dispersed it abroad; to the end that like seed sown in due time, they might there out reap to harvest which they expected. Every man had the vanity to publish these things to show their wisdoms and their affection to the public necessity, and to the end that these seditious practices might be followed by effects. York before the death of the forenamed Duke had wrought the end of Adam Molleins Bishop of Chichester, and Lord privy Seal; believing that he being a man of integrity might oppose his designs: he caused him to be assassenated by Fishermen at Ports-mouth, to the end that he might be thought to be slain by the outrageous commotion of that base sort of people, but all these things tending more to undoing then to the doing of any thing, he thought to begin his work by some popular sedition, which precipitating the Rebels into a fault unpardonable, and their fear of punishment making them obstinate in their errors, he might make use of them either joined together or separated as occasion should serve; he persuaded one jack Cade an Irishman, a bold man, and who had a spirit which did not correspond with his low condition, to feign himself to be a Cousin of his, of the house of Mortimer, to the end that winning belief by reason of his blood he might be favoured by the true Mortimer who did not know him, and might seduce the rest which he was to work upon; he chose Kent for his scene, believing it to be fickle, and fitter for his design than any other place, as being near to London. There did Cade exaggerate the wickedness of the Counselors and of the government, the grievances and such other like things; till such time as having sufficiently inflamed the Inhabitants of those parts, he made offer of himself to be their Leader, promising them that when he should have possessed himself of the King's person (the which he feigned he would do) and driven away those who governed him amiss, he would put them in a way of so just a government, that the grievances introduced under spetious pretences, and which framed the chain of their servitude, should totally be taken away and the chain broken. Thus persuaded, he assembled a great number of people, with whom he encamped himself not far from London, and calling himself the Captain of Kent, he sent for one Thomas Cock a Woollen Draper, under a safe conduct, commanding him to bring him certain numbers of Arms, and Horse, and a thousand Marks of ready money at the charge of the strangers that did inhabit the City; by the name the Genoese, Venetians and Florentines, threatening that if these things were not sent unto him he would kill as many of them as he could come by, and 'tis to be believed he was herein obeyed. For when afterwards he entered the City; he did no harm at all to any foreigner, the Citizens were not displeased at his commotion, who did not consider their own danger, and the little belief which ought to be given to such people. But the King and Council who foresaw the consequences, sent to understand from him the reasons which had moved him to take up Arms, and make the people rise; he answered to amend the evils under which the kingdom suffered, to chastise those who were the ruin of the Commonwealth, and to correct the errors of the chief Counselors, which being said, he gave unto those that were sent unto him two writings, the one was entitled The Commons of Kent's complaints, the other their demands from the King. The Articles of the former were, that it was reported that Kent should be destroyed and reduced into a Forest, to revenge the Duke of Suffolk's death, whereof the County was no ways gurltie, that the King had taken a resolution for the time to come to live upon the people's contributions, and to give his own revenue to particular men, that those of the blood royal were excluded from the government of the state, and people of mean condition introduced, so as businesses were not dispatched according to the Laws, but by corruption; that provisions for the King's household were had, and not paid for, that by the Kings giving of confiscations unto his servants, the innocent were falsely convinced, and by being kept in prison lost the benefit of the Law, so as they could not defend themselves: that the like was practised against them, who being justly possessed of their goods were denied to show their title, that they might be thereof deprived. That France being lost through the faults of certain Traitors, they should be enquired after, and condemned without pardon; the writing which contained their demands was to this purpose, that the King that he might live conformable to his royal dignity, should retain unto himself the patrimony of the Crown, and not participate it unto others. That he should banish all Suffolk's kindred; should punish according unto the Laws such of them as had deserved punishment, and should take near unto him the Lords of the blood Royal (viz. the Dukes of York, Excester, Buckingham, and Norfolk, and all the Earls and Barons; for that so doing he would be the richest King of Christendom, that those who were guilty of the Duke of Glocesters' death (who was injustly declared to be a Traitor) should be punished; the Commons declaring that they would live and die in this quarrel, and maintain the imputation to be false, that the Duke of Excester, the Cardinal of Winchester, the Duke of Warwick, France, Normandy, Gascony, Guien, Anjou and maine, many Lords, Gentlemen and others were lost through the fault of these Traitors to the King's great prejudice. Finally, they demanded the Abollition of divers things which they termed extortions, the Council was much vexed at the Arrogancy of these men, and since there was none there who did not condemn them; Henry with fifteen thousand men marched towards them himself in person to give them battle, but Cade feigning himself to be afraid, retired himself into a Wood near Senock; hoping that the King emboldened by his flight would in disorder set upon him, which he did not, believing that this vapour would of itself exhaule. But the Queen thinking they were fled for fear, sent Sir Humphrey Stafford and William Stafford his kinsmen after them who remain both slain, together with many other gentlemen. Those of the King's Camp who were both badly satisfied with the government, upon the news hereof discovered themselves, for hating the King the Queen and government, and esteeming this putative Mortimer their Angel of deliverance, they wished the Duke of York with him, that they might reap the profit, and he make use of this occasion, the King frighted at these whispers returned to London, where such of his council as were least passionate doubting an insurrection, caused the Lord Say, the Treasurer to be shut up in the Tower of London, that they might sacrifice him if need should require, to the fury of the people, they would have done the like with divers others, had they not saved themselves. Cade grown proud by reason of this his victory, and having put on the arms of Sir Humphrey Stafford (his richest prize) returned to black Heath, whither the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Duke of Buckingham were sent unto him, to understand what his pretences were, they found him under a feigned humility, so puffed up with pride and obstinate presumption, as they could not persuade him to lay down his arms unless the King should come thither himself in person, and grant whatsoever he demanded, he was grown so strong by reason of this victory (many flocking unto him from the neighbouring counties) that the King and Queen were persuaded to rely themselves to Killingworth, leaving no other Forces in London then what was requisite to guard the Tower, under the command of the Lord Scales, and Sir Matthew Gough one of the most famous and ancient Commanders in the Wars of France. This his retreat increased Cades arrogancy, he marched towards London and not suffered immediately to enter; he lodged in Southwark whilst the commons of Essex following his example had likewise taken up Arms, and were the same time encamped at Mile-End. The Lord Major, who held it equal danger to suffer him to come in, or to deny him entry called a Council, where the business being debated with variety of opinion, Robert Horn one of the Aldermen stood stiffly to it, that he was not to be suffered to enter the City, which when the rebels heard they raged and roared so loud, as the Major was glad to put Horn into Newgate, and on the second of july, Cade entered in over London Bridge, and being come into the City (to win the more good will, and the better to deceive;) he caused proclamation to be made in the King's names, that no man should steal any thing, nor take ought not paying for it, upon pain of death, and passing by the streets which led from the Bridge to Saint Paul's, he with his sword struck the stone called London-stone, saying now is Mortimer master of London; the next day he caused the Lord Say to be brought before the Lord Major's Court where together with the Major he caused divers others of the Kings, Judges to set, the accused party did in vain demand his lawful privilege, of being judged by his peers, he was carried to Cheapside, was beheaded, his Head stuck upon the point of spear: his naked Body dragged at a horse's tail into the Suburbs and there quartered; he would have done the like to Alderman Horn, had not his Wife & Friends ransommed him at the price of 500 marks, besides his being popular made much for his safety, but not here withal contented (for he was as cruel as avaricious) he went to Milend where he seized upon the body of Sir james Cromer son in law to the said Lord Say, and who was that year high sheriff of Kent, he made him to be beheaded not allowing him time to confess himself, and putting his head upon an other spear, he caused both the heads to be carried before him, he put many others to death, either for not obeying him, or for that he feared that being known by them, they might publish the baseness of his birth, being returned back to London, he fell to sack the houses of the richest Citizens, he began with Alderman Malpals house, to pay him for a feast which Malpall made unto him two days before, he did the like with others of the best, so as the rest of the Citizens frighted hereat, were forced to buy the safety of their houses with great sums of money, the Lord Major who too late perceived, that he had taken a snake into his bosom called together the Aldermen and sheriff's to advise upon a remedy, they resolved to fortify the bridge and deny him entry. (Cade kept always his first quarter in Southwark, from whence he came each morning into the Town and returned back at night.) They gave notice hereof to the Lord Scales Lieutenant of the Tower, and Sir Matthew Gough desiring their assistance, the first promised to play upon them with his cannon, the other came to them to be their leader, the Captains and Traine-bands of the City being assembled, they began at midnight to barracado the Bridge, but this could not be done without the knowledge of the rebels, whose consciences and the danger they were in, made them vigilant, they with much fury assaulted them, the fight endured all night, and till nine of the clock the next morning, which diversity of fortune, some time the one, sometimes the other, having the better they fired many of the houses upon the Bridge, so as the fire, the outcries of those that could not save themselves from the flame; the complaints of women and children, the throwing themselves into the River of Soame, who stand one death to meet with another, was a miserable sight to those who had any pity in them, but not sufficient to assuage the anger of those that fought, who drove one another alternately from one end of the Bridge to the other, in this bickering Alderman Suttun and many others were slain, but the death of Sir Matthew Gough was most to be deplored, who having defended oppugned and won many Castles, fought in private encounters, and public Battles with the valiantest Commanders, that were: should now be miserably slain by base people, thiefs, and rebels, which how it happened is not justly known, most certain it is that his life was of more value than a million of those that slew him, nothing but weariness ended this bickering, and that caused a truce till the next day, upon condition, that each side should keep its quarter, the Citizens should not pass into the Suburbs nor the rebels into the City, there were then and yet are in that Suburbs two principal prison's the King's bench and the Marshalseas which were then full of prisoners, and Cade hoping for good thereby, set them at liberty and armed them; but this did but little avail him, for the Archbishop of Canterbury having wisely framed a general pardon and authorised it with the great Seal; (he himself being Lord Chancellor;) he crossed the River over against the Tower, accompanied by the Bishop of Winchester, made it be proclaimed in South-wark, where it was so welcomly received by the rebels, that without taking leave or seeing their Captain's face, they returned to their own homes, so as being suddenly forsaken, and those aids not appearing which were promised by such as sided with the Duke of York, he fled in disguise into Sussex, and was pursued by many to gain the 1000 marks, which were promised to him that should kill him; this good fortune befell Alexander Iden, who did well deserve it, by reason of the danger wherein he put himself; for finding him in a Garden, he slew him hand to hand without any manner of treachery, and brought his Body to London, where the Head being taken of, it was put upon a spear's end, and set it upon the Bridge, as are usually the heads of Traitors: and Iden received the 1000 marks, which he had generously won. The Archbishop of Canterbury played a discreet part in this business, by applying the general pardon to the seditious in a time when many of them being slain, or hurt; the rest shrewdly affrighted, and fearing yet worse, he did that with a few strokes of his pen, which many a stroke of sword neither could nor would have done; an act of a wise Minister, for the common people are for the most part like pettish children, who grow wild at the whisk of a Rod, and are made tractable at the sight of a red cheeked apple. The King was advised to go into Kent, where having chastised some, he made good the pardon to all the rest to the great satisfaction of the Country. Charles made use of these dissensions in England to impatronize himself of Gascony, just as he did of the disorders of Normandy, to make himself master of that Province, the experience of so many years, wherein he had governed himself amiss, had made him more mind his business; Monstrelet observes, that the conquest of Normandy was an effect of his good order taken with his Soldiers, for he had reduced the horse (which was the chiefest part of his strength) to so perfect a discipline, by well arming of them, and well paying them, as that the Country people did in safety enjoy their own goods, any transgression in that behalf being severely punished, which if all Princes would do, they would seldom be loser's. Nothing did more preserve the Guascons for 300. years, and upward in their obedience to the English (not withstanding all the forces policies and proffers of France) then good government; for they were ruled under the liberty of the laws, as if they had been natural Englishmen, not, that when a government is come to its period any thing is able to uphold it, since the orders of fortune and of nature have their bounds prefixed, as well in what is good as what is bad: Bergerac was the first place besieged in Guien, a place seated upon the River Dordon in Perigord; Charles made the Count Pointeverres, who was likewise Count de Perigord and Viscount de Lymoges his Lieutenant in those parts, he was accompanied with many Gentlemen, and with 2500. horse, 500 whereof were lances, for every lance consisted of five horse, the man at arms his page, his servant armed and two bow men. When the artillery came up, Bergerac yielded; the English came forth on horseback, and with their goods, the Inhabitants enjoyed their own as formerly; jansack seated upon the same River was taken by assault: 35. English being there slain, the rest taken prisoners; Monferat, Saint Foye, and Chalois yielded: for the Inhabitants were affrighted, and resolved not to hazard their lives and livelyhoods, since the Lord Cameile had written into England for succour and no order was taken for any by reason of the home broils there, so as no Town now durst any longer hold out, but that which did chiefly quell their Spirits was the defeat given by Monsieur de Orvall the third son of the house of Albret, to the Mayor of Bordeaux. Orvall was parted from Bazas to make an inroade into the Island of Medock with 4. or 500 fight men, when night came on, he stayed some two leagues short of Bordeaux, and the next morning being all Saint's day, as he was on horseback to enter the Island, he was told, that between 8. and 9000. of those of Bordeaux, what Townsmen, what English were marched forth to give him battle, whereupon he set his men in order, expecting to be set upon. When they came to blows, he slew 1300. of them, and the Mayor fled away abandoning the Infantry, which he had placed in the front of the enemy; and besides those he slew, he took 1200. prisoners; this is according to Monstrelets relation. Hallian who taxeth, the Geographers of ignorance for calling the country of Madock an Island, since it is only environed on the one side by the River of Garronne, and on an other side by a little arm of the Sea, all the rest being firm continent joining to the lands of Bordeaux, doth agree almost in all things with Monstrelet, save that he saith, that the English Authors write, that the French were twice as many as they, and that their victory cost them the lives of 1000 of their own men; Chartier saith, that Monsieur d'Orvall had between 6. and 7000. fight men, that as he returned with his booty; he was set upon by the English, that he slew about 2000 of them, and took 2200. prisoners. The English writers on the contrary side say, that the Mayor of Bordeaux was overcome more by number then valour, that those who were slain and taken prisoners were about 600. and that 800. of the French were slain. Which of these is the true relation is left to the judgement of him, who will take the pains to examine them; if Chartier be to be believed the 2200. prisoners will prove likelier to be sheep then men; for every one of the Victors must bind at least 3. or 4. and if it be said, that they, who could kill every man 14. (which is not granted) might much easier take every man his 3. or 4. prisoners: The argument holds not, for it is easier for one man to kill 14. then to take and detain 4. The English have divers times fought against 7. or 8. and have overcome; the French themselves will not deny it, but there is some reason given for it, for though valour be to be accounted in the first place, (since without it no so disadvantageous resolution can be taken) yet in the second place may be alleged the disorder of the enemy; their own good order, and their arrows which gawling and disordering the horse, were cause of the victory. In this present affair neither the valour nor the fortune of the one side is described, nor the cowardice, nor disorder of the other, no man doubts but that 150. Spaniards may have defeated great armies of the Indians. And 'tis no wonder, the novelty of their horse, the resistance of their armour, the noise made by their muskets and field pieces, made them be believed to be descended from heaven and were causes of their victories; if Hallian had read the English historians, he would not have thought them so vain gloriously light, he would there have feared the death of 800. French not of 10000 as he saith, however it was this defeat was the cause of the surrendering of many Towns this year, which were neither beleaguered, nor summoned; and the next ensuing year 1451. was the decider of the general disputes in Guascony which was by the sword taken from the English and given to the French. The chief Commander in this enterprise was the dunness Lieutenant general to Charles; he was accompanied by his brother, the Count de Angovelesme this being the first service he did his King and Country; after his imprisoment in England. Monguione held out against him, 8. days and then yielded; from thence, he went to Blaye to block up this Town, great forces were brought both by Sea and Land. john Bourchier general of France brought thither great store of vessels loaded with men, arms, and victuals, and finding five great English vessels there, which had brought provision to the besieged; he fought with them forced them, to weigh anchor and fly, and gave them chase even to the haven of Bordeaux. Messieurs de Bessiere de Chabanes, and Count Pointever came thither by land, a great breach being made, they gave an assault wherein the City was taken about 200. English were slain, and taken prisoners. Messieurs d'Esparre and d'Monferand both of them Guascons saved themselves within the Castle the which together with themselves they soon after yielded up. Bourg held out 6. days, Libourne summoned by the herald delivered up its keys. Whilst businesses proceeded thus in these parts, men were not idle as else where, every man of any account employed himself about some thing or other: four Princes of the blood Clerimont, Angovelesme, Vandosme, and Yew; did jointly besiege Fronsac (a place thought impregnable) both by Land and Sea. Count de Fois Lieutenant of Guienne beyond Garronne, accompanied by many Gentlemen, particularly by Messieurs d'Albret, and Laurec, brethren by Terrace and Orvall sons to the former, went before Arques, and had it upon composition; Count Armignac not forgetting his affront touching the marriage of his daughter went to besiege Rions; Count Pointeverres besieged Castelon, which yielded to him, as did likewise Melion, where he stayed and sent his troop to Fronsac, which was the most important place of all the rest as hath been said; Charles had four armies in the fields, which were all at the same time busied in several places, so as it is no wonder, if the English were enforced to yield, since to boot with the mighty forces of the enemy, the Towns whereof they were masters denied to do their duties, in defending themselves being wrought upon either by inclination or fear▪ Fronsac was a very strong place, but likely in a short time to be brought to extremity if not succoured, four armies did environe it, so as if the English had been in case to have kept the field, yet would they not have been able to succour it, as well by reason of the besiegers great forces, as likewise, for that the two Rivers Dordonne and Darronne, by reason of the very great increase of waters were not navigable. Being thus difficulted, the defendants demanded a truce until Saint john Baptists-day, upon these conditions, that if they were not succoured before that time, so as the dunness should be enforced to raise up siege, they would surrender up the Fort, and he was to give safe conduct to whosoever would be gone, and to fit them with carriages and shipping for themselves and goods at their own charges. That the garrison should march forth with their horses and arms, and leave their artillery behind them, that those, who would swear obedience to Charles and to be his good and loyal subjects should enjoy their goods in whatsoever part of the Kingdom, and be pardoned for what was formerly passed; that such as would serve him in the war whether Citizens, volunteers, or of the garrison, should have the like entertainment, as the other soldiers; that of the prisoners that were taken at Blaye Gaches, Charnali and 6. other should be set at liberty without ransom, and that the like was to be understood o●… john Stafford who was taken prisoner at the Battle of jermingi; the 23. day of the Month being come, and the besiegers not fought withal the City was yielded up, and the Castle, the English oretired themselves to Bordeaux, whither likewise the dunness did immediately go. The English stories do not mention the particulars of the surrendering of this City, only that finding itself abandoned, it shared in like fortune as did Fronsac, but those of France do specify that Bordeaux agreed to yield, if Fronsac should yield, and that they would expect it till then to pay the duty they ought to Henry, and yielded with the more honour to Charles. I forbear to speak o●… its long capitulations as likewise of those made by Gastonne de Fois Knight of the Garter, and Bartrand de Monferanda, the former not desirous to live in France disposed of his goods to his grandchild, who bore the title of Count de Candalle, a child of three years old, who when she should be of years was to swear allegiance to Charles, the second agreed to yield up the places he held to the French, upon condition that when he should have sworn Allegiance to Charles they should be again delivered up unto him. Bordeaux was easily brought to execute the agreement. The dunness made his entry thereinto the 29. of the same month, and on the sixth of A●…gust he besieged Ba●…onne, which held ou●… till such time as the Artillery being come up and a breach made, so as it was in danger of being taken by assault, it yielded with power, for the Garrison to retire, and a penalty laid upon the City to pay 40000. Crowns, half of which was afterwards remitted by Charles. Charter reports a miracle which happened the next day after the surrender thereof, he saith that the air being clear a white cross appeared in the sky for the space of half an hour, at the sight whereof the inhabitants took from of their ensigns the red Cross the badge of England; saying that God by that white Cross, which was the badge of France did admonish them for the time to come to be good Frenchmen. And because Hallian writes that this effect which proceeded from the clouds, was ascribed to religion and prodigy; Dupleix calls him a destroyer of all miracles, pretending him to be convinced, no less by the serenity of the air then by the Testimonial letters of the Count dunness, authenticated by his seal, both which are very slender reasons: The air ceaseth not to be termed clear though some little cloud may appear, wherein may be form the forenamed Cross, and for the testimonial letters alleged, they might be believed had they been written by some English General. Factions are like Sexes, the one doth not succeed unto the other, especially when the one doth disagree within itself; Hallian one of the same faction not believing that the Pucell of Orleans was sent from heaven, was therefore reprehended, and now not believing this Cross, his believing in the Cross of Christ doth not exempt him from being reputed by Dupleix a bad Christian. We have the first and the second causes, and ignorant people not able to give a reason for the second have recourse unto the first, which is by all men known to cover their idiotism with piety and religion: but the learned though allege the second causes, they omit not the first, though they name it not, supposing that no existence can be without it. God in the creating of nature hath given her her orders, to the end that without the name of Miracle (though all his works are wonderful) she may operate accordingly. So as if the earth yield not ' its fruits so abundantly one year as another, and they allege for reason thereof the inequality of seasons, some conjunction of unfortunate Planets, or some such like influence, they forbear notwithstanding to have recourse to God Almighty. Knowing for certain that he is able though contrary to the course of nature absolutely of himself to provide therefore, no●… is there any so ignorant nor wicked body who doth not confess this, but in miracles 'tis otherwise; the Church must always examine them. Hallian denies not miracles, nay I do verily believe, he believes them so much the better in that not admitting of them indifferently upon simple testimony; he according to true Piety discerns between devotion and superstition, as good Grain is discerned from Tares, but piety is not there simply required by Dupleix though he make show thereof, he useth it for a vehiculum; he would make us swallow a falsehood wrapped up in religion, with the same end he had in the Pucells' case, which was to strengthen Charles his pretences by the means of miracle; and in this case he alleadges his testimonies with such seeming sincerity at the business required. The dunness letters contain these words, that the Cross appeared in a cloud with a crucifix crowned with an Azure Crown, which afterwards changed to a Flower de Luce, according to the relation of more than a thousand that saw this prodigy; This was the end of the English government in Guascony, which had ' its beginning in the year, 1155. by the marriage of Ellinor Duchess of Aquitany with Henry the second King of England: and came to its period after 296. years, in the year 1451. in Henry the sixth his days; and as William the father of Ellenor forsook his stake, the world, and his daughter to undertake a pilgrimage, and peacefully ended his life in an Hermitage, and was canonised for a Saint. So Henry the successor to two Williams, the one a Gu●…scoyne the other a No●…man, did not quit it, but lost it, for having too imperfectly imitated the sanctity of the one, and no whit at all the valour of the other, and being opposite in nature to the Conqueror, and in piety not equal to the canonised Saint, he came to a violent end with the reputation of being innocent but no Saint. The Duke of York's machenations were a chief cause of all these losses, where withal the people being corrupted nothing was thought of but homebred rancour the praise worthy ambition of public reputation, which so long had warmed every man's heart was extinct, the evil satisfaction given by the Queen augmented, and Somerset so much hated as that his house was broken open, and ransacked every one det●…sted his actions, envied his power and lay in Ambush for him as being the obstacle of their worst designs. The Duke of York who was in Ireland had notice given him of all these proceedings, and because the Kentish sedition had had but an ill success, he resolved to come for England, his chief friends and Counsellors were Sir john Mawbery Duke of Norfolk, Richard Nevil who was styled Earl of Salisbury in the behalf of his wife, daughter and heir to the valiant Thomas Montague who was slain before Orleans. Richard Nevil his son who was likewise Earl of Warwick in the right of his wife, Thomas Courtney Earl of Devonshire, & Edward Brooke Baron of Cobham, all of them personages not inferior to any for their power, followers and valour, of these five, the first two were drawn to forsake the allegiance they ought to Henry their King and kinsman, by reason of their affinity with the Duke of York▪ the rest were only moved by England's ill genius; the Earl of Salisbury descended from jane Beaufort daughter by the third wife to john Duke of Lancaster. Henry's great grandfather, so as being so near a Kin unto him he had no reason to take part against him, but the marriage of the Duke of York with his sister Sicily, was the reason why both he and his son for sooke their former duty. john Duke of Norfolk took part with the Earl of Salisbury, as being the son of one of his daughters, but more in the behalf of his Father, who was banished, and of his Uncle who was beheaded at York in the time of Henry the fourth. I know not what moved Thomas Earl of Devonshire, who married the Daughter of Somerset first to side against him, and afterwards (to his misfortune) to join with him, the Lord Cobham had no other interest save his own proper disposition, always inclined to actions of the like nature: their resolution was for to cloak their first commotions, as that they should not seem to be against the King, but the people should be pressed under pretence of the public good. That the Duke of Somerset should be their bait, who was fit by reason of the bad success in Normandy to colour the reason of this insurrection, and consequently they intended his ruin without the which they could not hope to effect their ends, since he was the only remaining Buckler for Henry's defence and preservation. Having taken this resolution, he went to raise people in Wales, many flocking unto him from all parts under the plausible pretence 1452. of public good, with these he marched towards London. The King at first news hereof had got together a good army to meet with him, but he shunned him, hoping to increase his numbers, and like fame to yet by going, he would not hazard to try his passage through London, the denial thereof might lessen his reputation: but passing over the Thames at Kingston, he went into Kent, and pitched his campea mile from Dartford, some ten or twelve miles from London, and secured himself with trenches and artillery. The King brought his camp thither likewise, and sent unto him the Bishops of Winchester, and Ely, to know of him what had caused him to take up arms, he answered nothing against the King nor yet against any honest man, but against some evil Counsellors who were enemies to the commonwealth and the people's leeches: and naming the Duke of Somerset, he said, he was the cause, that brought him thither; and offered, if Somerset might be put into safe custody, till such time as in Parliament he should make defence to such things as there should be objected against him, to dismiss his troops, and present himself before the King, and serve him as all good and faithful subjects ought to do. The Duke's end in this enterprise was to justify his own actions in the beginning, for to fight with the King at very first would prove scandalous and diametrically opposite to the public good. With this his answer he would possess the World of a good opinion of him, eat the dangers he might light upon, if he should hazard a battle and have the worst, and by making Somerset safe so as he should be enforced to answer to what should be objected against him: he was sure the Parliaments severity considered, and the hatred which the people bore him, he could not escape with his life: the which happening, he might with ease deprive Henry of this Kingdom rather by means of law, then by violence; for having lost Somerset he lost all council, commanders, and followers. The King on the other side who thought that to reduce him to obedience by violence would be a hazardous affair, seemed to gratify his desire, and gave order for Somersets being forth coming, whereupon dismissing his people according to his promise; York came unto the King, but whilst he had published his complaints accusing the pretended guilty person of treason and oppression. The Duke of Somerset, who was not far of, and heard all that was said, hearing himself wounded in his honour and could not contain himself, but coming from where he was concealed and not contented, to answer to what was objected against him, he accused his accusor of high treason, for having with many others conspired against the King's life, and consulted how with least danger they might bereave him of his crown and sceptre, an accusation which was not slightly to be passed over. The King returned to London whither he was brought as a prisoner and presented before a great counsel assembled for this purpose a●… Westminster, where the two Dukes accusing one another reciprocally, nothing could be resolved of: for York denied all, nor were there any witnesses to convince him; but Somerset perceiving the evils that were likely to ensue, if he should escape; did all that in him lay to have him put to the rack, which in this case only is permitted by the laws of England. He showed how that if York and all his generation were not bereft of their lives a ●…vill, war must needs ensue, which would be the destruction of England, for that he had long ago resolved the ruin of the King, and of the house of Lancaster: that he might make himself King and transplant the Crown and Kingdom into his own family or house. But these advertisements were of no force, his supposed innocence withstood them, since when he was armed with considerable forces, he had presented himself unarmed before the King, which it was not likely he would have done, had he been guilty of any such thing. An opinion which easily prevailed, for that at the same there came two important nuses; the one that the Earl of Marsh was marching with an army towards London, the other, that the Count de Cardale and Monsieur Desperres were sent from Bordeaux to make a new offer of their obedience, and to desire an army to recover what was lost, and which was easiliest to be recovered, for that the French were weak and the Country weary of them, so as the eminent danger threatened by the coming of the Earl of Marsh; and the Gnascons request, the first not to be excited, and the latter not to be promised without peace and quiet, were the causes why the Duke of York was released, and why he retired himself to Wales, to expect a more opportune occasion whilst the Duke of Somerset had wherewithal to appease his grief, remaining without rival, the moderator of the whole government. The alterations of Gascony sprung from impositions laid by the French, caused fresh hopes in England, the which though it be denied by Dupleix, who doth therefore tax Hallian, who follows the opinion of Pollidore, yet are the proofs of the contrary very weak; he saith, it is not likely, that Charles would have imposed grievances upon them contrary to his oath, especially the first year wherein he was to establish his government amongst them, and that the Soldiers were so well disciplined as that the open fields were free from rapine, as if Princes did always, that which they ought to do, and that military discipline not subject to corruption, should observe the reformation in Gascony: The King being absent which when he was in person present, he caused to be observed in Normandy. France hath had good Kings and good Officers, yet not sufficient to suppress or change the inclinations of such as serve them, It is impossible for Princes to do any thing of excellency, if their subjects appear not in their interests. Particular avarice hath at all times been cause of remarkable mischiefs. If Francis the first had had as many men fight, as he paid pay unto, he had not lost his liberty before Pavia. King Henry entertains the offer of Bordeaux, and suddenly sent Talbot Earl of Shrewsbery thither, who though ever exceeding diligent in all expeditions, yet in this, he did out do himself, he embarked himself and took with him 3000. soldiers leaving order for such as were to follow him, he landed upon the coast of Meddock, and the more to terrify the enemy, he made great spoils in their Towns, but being sent for in by those all of Bordeaux, he filled the adjacent parts with horror; the City was of different opinions touching the French garrison, some would have them be suffered to go away free, others not, and these threw open the Gates to the English who entering at unawares imprisoned the garrison, but spilt no blood, nor did no outrage neither to them nor the Townsmen: Fronsack did for a few days stop Talbot in his advancement, but when it yielded, all the neighbouring Towns did alike, and did freely of themselves return to their former obedience. castilian scent for him, and the French garrison being put forth, his men entered; when Charles heard hereof, he sent thither Count Clerimont his son in law, and his Lieutenant in Guienne with 600. Horse and 1200. Crosbowmen under the Conduct of Messieurs de Lorhac, and Orvall, to make matters good till such time as he should come, which was not long after. On the other side to Talbot came the Lord Lisle his sons, the Lord Mullins and Harrington, and Lord Camus the Bastard of Somerset, Sir john Talbot, Sir john Howard, Sir john Montgomery, and Sir john Vernon, who brought with them 2200. soldiers, munition, & victuals; Charles being come to Lusignano mustered his men which flocked unto him from all parts when he was come to Saint john d'Angeli, he understood how that jaques de Chabanes had taken Chales, and slain many of the English; he divided his army which consisted of 22000. men into two parts: to the end, that he might weaken the enemy, who were to divide theirs; likewise, he gave 15000. to Count Clerimont, and sent the Marishall Lorhac with the rest to besiege Castillion. In this case, Talbot resolved to fight with one of the armies, and made choice of the weaker to succour chastilion, he went thither with 1453. 800. horse commanded by 3 Barons his son Lass, Mullins, and Camus; and 3. Knights, Sir Edward Hall, Sir john Howard, and Sir john Vernon, and gave order for 5000. foot to follow him conducted by the Count de Candalle, and Monsieur Desparres. In his march he took a Tower which the French had fortified, and slew as many as he found there, meeting with 500 of the enemy, who were gone a forredging, he slew some of them, the rest saved themselves before chastilion, which was the cause of the ruin which ensued: for fear having caused them to withdraw from the siege and draw into the field, fortified with trenches and deep ditches, they put themselves in order to expect his coming, and he, though he knew, it would be to his disadvantage to set upon them in that posture, yet fearing what he could not shun viz.) that if new troops of the enemy should come up, the enterprise would be the more difficult, he resolutely gave in amongst them: the fight continued along time before it could be discerned which side had the better; but certain forces sent by the Duke of Britanny to assist Charles coming up unto them, when the battle was at the hottest conducted by Messieurs de Montalbon, and Hunnandy, they took some colours and made the rest retreat. Talbot rid every where up and down upon a little ambling nag, his age not permitting to fight in any other manner, when struck with a piece of Artillery, he and his horse were borne to the ground above 300. more faring alike with him, so as being ready to die, and seeing his son close by him, he advised him to save himself; the which his son refusing to do, the Father replied that his valour which in this case was to be esteemed mere rashness ought to be reserved for a better occasion, that it did misbecome him being old to run away, since thereby he should darken the lustre of his past actions, but that it was not so with him, who being young and but a novice in arms, could not be prejudiced by a flight grounded upon reason; but all these admonitions wrought nothing upon the generous youth, he chose rather to imitate his Father's actions then to obey his desires; he died by his side, though not without revenge, for he fell, valiantly fight with his sword all bluody in his hand. His Bastard brother Henry Talbot, and Sir Edward Hall were slain together with him, the Lord Moullins and 60. more were taken prisoners; most of those that fled saved themselves within Bordeaux, amongst which Monsieur Desparres was one. A thousa●…d of the English were left dead upon the field, according to the English-writers, and 2000 according to the French; this was the end of john Talbot Earl of Shrewsbery the terror of France; he put a period to his victories and his life the 13. of july in his 80. year of age, after a long uninterrupted warfare, he was borne not to die by humane hands, had he not been slain by the hellish humane invention of guns. Chastilion served for a short refuge to many, especially to Messieurs de Monferant d'Anglades, and the Count d'Candalles son, but after ten day's defence, they yielded up themselves, and the Town upon conditions, all other places followed their example except Bordeaux which would yet have held out longer had not want of victuals enforced it to capitulate, and Charles who could not hope to keep there long, for the plague grew very hot amongst his people, received their offers, without any show of severity, making them only promise never to rebel again. He suffered the English freely to depart and reserved 20. of those who were chief authors of the rebellion to be banished France for ever; amongst which Monsieur d'Espares, and Monsieur de Duras. The loss of this Duchy, according to the English stories, was as prejudicial to particular men as to the Crown for being of no charge, but rather of benefit both within and without (the revennes thereof being great and the commerce very great) it was of great consequence, for the breeding up and maintaining the youth of England as in an Academy of war especially younger brethren, who having but little to live on were there provided for with honourable entertainment. Hence forward, I shall not speak of France save in such occurrences as often times happens betwixt neighbouring Countries, for though these two Kingdoms did not cease to do mischief each to other, as much as in them lay, yet did they it not in like manner as formerly they had done, but answerable to the common state rule to keep their neighbours from growing greater: and if they should have been otherwise minded, it was out of their power to mischief one an other, it was hard for the one to recover what was lost since they had lost all, and very difficult for the other to wage war with the former in his own home. The Queen of England was brought to bed of her only son Prince Edward the thirteenth of October in this present year, such as bore ill will to the house of Lancaster and endeavoured the subversion thereof talked lewdly of this birth. They would have the child to be the issue of adultery; affirming Henry to be insufficient, whether he were adulterously got or not was only known to the Queen: but that the King should be unsufficient is a thing which could not by any one be better known then by himself, and i●… to the prejudice of others, he should avow a child for his own which he knew was not so, he should not have been that sanctified Prince which by his very enemies, he was at all times acknowledged to be, in celebration of this birth, or for that he thought it otherwise convenient, he made his two brothers by the mother's side Edmond and jasper Earls, Edmond who was Father to Henry the seaventh Earl of Richmond, and jasper who died without issue Earl of Pembroke. We have already spoken of, and we shall now continue to relate the art and cunning used by the Duke of York to ensnare the 1454. King and Kingdom, his pretensions were just according to the laws of England, but according to the chiefest of all laws (which is the people's welfare) directly unjust; for it is more convenient that a private man suffer, and smart alone, than the weal public be ruinated and every one smart: for if the means to claim be unjust, there cannot any thing be thereunto framed, but an injurious and blameful justice: he doubted that Henry's known goodness would render this his business difficult, and that the people borne by their love to a Prince who bore the Crown, not by his own usurpation, but by two successive descents from Father and Grandfather, both worthy Princes (the house of York never having been in possession thereof) his pretensions would appear a dream, and if not such, yet not such as were likely to be applauded. The evil consequences considered which were to ensue, such controversies not being to be decided, but by the bloody law of the sword, and the loss of many an innocent life, that therefore they were not likely to forsake Henry long in possession, for him a new pretender, these considerations prevailed so far with him as to keep him within the bounds of simulation, for doubting that the danger might consist in making known his designs, he thought it best to make that be believed to be done for the weal public, which was indeed done for his own ends, and that by taking his former pretences touching the Duke of Somerset; he might take revenge of a mortal enemy, free himself of his greatest obstacle, deprive the King of his chiefest leaning stock, and afterwards purchase the love of all men, the love of the people by the ruinating a man detested for the loss of Normandy the love of the Nobility, by reducing him who by reason of his too powerful authority and greatness was by the most of them infinitely envied. Not herewithal contented, he forbore to vilify Henry's reputation giving him out to be poorly spirited, and affirming that the condition of the now present times required a King who would not be governed by his wife, nor any third person, but by his own judgement, a wiseman and endued with such virtues as not being to be found in him, were requisite in a Prince who was to govern, so as having by these means prepared the people's inclinations, he made firm unto him such as sided with him especially two, the Father and the Son, the one Earl of Salisbury, the other Earl of Warwick, the first excellent for matter of council; the second endued with such qualities as virtue doth not impart, but to those who are ordained for heroical actions, he won the good will of all men by approving his wisdom, and valour with his innate liberality and magnificence. Virtues by how much more solid than others, and proper to make him be esteemed so much the less, to be commended in this occasion, altogether unworthy of any manner of praise, he ordered things in this manner, by the assistance of those forenamed, he caused the Duke of Somerset to be arrested in the Queen's lodgings, and sent unto the Tower, the which he was emboldened to do by reason of the Kings being at that time sick, whose double weakness both of mind and body had encouraged him, assisted as he was to work himself into the government. But as soon as Henry recovered his health, he did not only restore 1455. him to his liberty but made him chief commander of Calais (the then the most important charge the Kingdom had) which caused great alterations, for he was thought unfit for the custody of the only place which remained beyond the Sea: who had lost all Normandy, but York perceiving that he had twice failed in his endeavours of ruinating him, went into Wales where having got together a good army, he marched towards London, being accompanied by the forenamed Lords and many others, the King so much disinherited that City as that he would not expect his coming there, but went to encamp himself at Saint Alban, where the adversary presented himself to give him battle, the King had in his camp the Dukes of Somerset and Buckingham; the Earls of Pembroke, Stafford, Northumberland, Devonshire, Dorset, Wiltshire, and many Barons, amongst which Clifford, Ludley, Berneis, and Rosse, and proceeding according to the peaceful instinct of his nature, he sent some unto him to know why he came in that hostile manner, and what he did pretend unto, but the messengers were hardly arrived, when the Earl of Warwick at unawards set upon the Vanguard Royal, and disordered it before the Duke of Somerset could remedy it, so as all forces on both sides giving together a bitter battle was begun: each side made good its station, no man recoiled so many were slain, as it was thought, there would not be a man in all the field left alive. The Duke of York stood observing all occurrences, and sent fresh men to supply the place of such as were wounded, whereby he made good the fight, which Somerset could not do as not having so many men and being more busy in fight then in making provision. The Royalest were almost all slain. The chief that died there, were the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Stafford son to the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford, the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Wiltshire, and Thomas Thorp Lord chief Baron together with some few that escaped, fled away wounded. This victory which happened the 23. of May, was a good Omen to those that ensued, and to the putting an end to this difference for the prevailing party, though not without shedding their own tears and blood, did some few years after effect what they desired; the Duke of Somerset left three sons behind him, Henry, Edmond, and john, who adding their Father's revenge to the hatred of the faction, came all of them to miserable ends as we shall see in midst of this good success. The Duke of York would confirm the people in the belief, that he had taken up arms only for the good of the commonweal. For the Duke of Somerset being dead (who was the pretended reason of his commotion) nothing remained for him to do but to assume the Crown, so as having the King in his hands, and under colour of his name, power, to frame the golden age, which all seditious people promise in their rebellions: he resolved to arrive at his end by degrees, not thinking to meet with any more oppositions; but he was deceived as are all those who not able to effect their desires, but by wicked means dare not withstanding be so wicked as it were requisite for them to be. Some report, that the King in this occasion was but ill served by the three Lords, that fled, and by his domestic servants their flight caused him to forsake the field, and mightily disheartened the few that remained, the King had withdrawn himself to a poor man's house, where being found by the enemy, he was with all appearing respect carried from thence and comforted, and made believe that the Duke of Somersets death had established the Crown upon his head, being come together with them to London. A Parliament was called, wherein all things were decreed directly opposite to what had been enacted in former Parliaments; to testify, that the late government had been unjust, and the King abused by the malice of those that counselled him, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester was declared to have been Loyal unto the King and faithful unto his Country, all Donnatives howsoever made whether by patent from the King or by Parliament were revoked, beginning from the very first day of his reign to the present time, as things which impoverishing▪ the Crown bereft the royal dignity of lustre, and that the now spoken of insurrection, though condemned by all laws might be thought meritorious; declaration was made, that the Duke of Somerset, Thomas Thorp Lord chief Justice, and William joseph (the third that governed the Kings will) were the occasioners thereof by detaining a letter, which if it had been delivered unto the King his Majesty would have heard the complaints, and so taken away the occasion of the aforesaid disorders, that therefore the Duke of York, the Earl of Salisbury, Warwick and their associates should not for the future be blamed for it▪ since the action was necessary to free the King from captivity and bring health to the common weal. These pretences thus passed over they came roundly to their work, by framing a Triumve●…at the ground work of the designed monarchy; York caused himself to be created protector of the Kingdom, Salisbury Lord Chancellor, and Warwick Governor of Callais, so as the politic authority remained in the first, the civil in the second, and the military in the third: whilst Henry King only in name was bereft of all authority and safety; all that had dependency upon the King and Queen, were put from the Council bereft of whatsoever charge they bore in the City or Kingdom, and john Holland Duke of Exeter was by force taken from Westminster, whither he was fled for sanctuary and sent prisoner to Pompheret; a sacrilege not formerly ventured on, that I know of by any King. They now thought no more needed to the establishing of their power whilst tyrannies are not established without means much more abominable; the Duke of York should have done that wickedness then which once was to be done, and which not long after was done by his son Edward. A Kingdom cannot brook two Kings, and if experience had made known unto him his error in preserving Henry's life, his carelessness was very great to stumble the second time upon the same stone, and thereby lose his own life as he did. Moderate evils in such like cases have always been their authors overthrow. The respect due to Henry was not yet so much diminished, nor his Majesty so much darkened, but that Henry the now Duke of Somerset, 1456. Humphrey Duke of Buckingham and other Lords that sided with him, resolved no longer to endure the injury that was done unto him, and together with them to quit themselves of the eminent danger that hung over them, for every man saw York's end to be the usurpation of the Crown, and that his delay proceeded from the fear of danger, for the King being by reason of his sanctify reverenced by the ●…est, he thought, he could not on a sudden compass his ends without scandal: and the being oppugned by the greatest part of the Kingdom, the ●…ch if it should happen, he should for the present ruin, and for the future totally lose all his hopes. So as consultation being had with the Queen who being highly spirited did with impatiency endure the present subjection;) a great Council was called at Greenwich, wherein it was resolved, that since he was now no child, and consequently needed not a Protector, nor was so void of wit, as that he was to be governed by other men's discretions, that therefore the Duke of York should be understood to be freed from his protectorship, and the Earl of Salisbury from his being Chancellor and that he should surrender the great seal to whom the King should please; York could not fence himself from this blow being taken unprovided, and itself strengthened with reasons not to be gainsaid without a note of rebellion so as he was enforced to endure it, but not without the dislike of such as sided with him, who were not wanting in adding fuel to the fury of the people; by making them rise up in tumult occasioned by a dissension between a Merchant and an Italian; which though they did, yet did not things succeed as they would have them; for after having pilledged many houses of the Venetians, Florentines, and Lutchesses', thetumult was appeased, and the chief authors thereof punished, but the present remedy had nothing to do with the threatening mischief, and both sides failed therein. The Duke of York since that he did not quit himself of his enemy, when he might have done it in expectation of an opportunity, to do it with less danger to so horrid a cruelty, and those of the King's side in that they durst not venture upon the Duke of Yorks life for fear of some insurrection, since the City was for him, and the greatest part of the greatest adhered more to the hopes of a profitable tumultuous change, then to the preservation of a quiet condition, whereby they could not be advantaged: for the King did no more distinguish of deserts than doth a distasted palate of tastes, and the Queen so jealous as that she durst only trust those who being injured were to run the like fortune with her Husband. But where last extremes are in question extremities are to be chosen, for chance may do that which council cannot. York left the Court confirmed in his former designs by this new affront, whilst the Scots entered England in one part, and the French in two; the Scots having endamaged the confines retired themselves with their booty into Scotland, the French pilledged some houses, surprised Sandwich, took some ships and returned to Normandy, the surprise of Sandwich did but little avail them for they went away and quitted it, it not being to be made good by small forces against many enemies. England was like a body oppressed by a general distellation, humours dispersed themselves every where abroad, the vital faculties which are the laws had not force enough to repulse them. Thomas Percy Baron of Egremont one who was an enemy to the Earl of Salisbury sons, fought with them in open field and slew many of their followers, he thought to have escaped but could not, for the King who would not have the fault to go unpunished had used means to have his body seized upon, and the offended parties being of the contrary party, he (as not willing to be thought partial in justice caused him to be roundly fined and imprisoned, from whence he escaped to the much trouble of his keepers, the Queen this mean while not being able to secure herself. The King and Kingdom, but by the ruin of the Duke, and the two Earls of Salisbury and Warwick, nor yet able to work their ruin, but by cozenage and deceit, made the King to go to Coventry under pretence of passing away his time in hunting and hawking, and of changing the air (she thought London inclined too much to them, and feigning some great affair sent for them by express letters from the King, the which they believed, and had been caught had they not been advertised by their friend which caused them to eschew the danger. The King was displeased at these proceedings of the Queen as contrary to his good inclination, and being returned to London he 1458. called a council, wherein having stated the condition the Kingdom was in, he showed how that the rent and division had encouraged both the Scots, and the French to assault him at home, and that therefore a reconciliation was necessary, the which if particular men's offences, and the offences of his own family were likely to impeach, he for his part would forget the injuries done unto himself, and would endeavour his kindred's agreement with them, who in the late uproars had spilt their blood promising that the Duke of York and his followers should in this business have nothing to do, but barely to desire. When he had ingeniously said this, every man believed him, for of himself, he was not accustomed to cozenage. Choice was made of some personages of quality to be sent to the Duke of York, and to those of the house of Lancaster, many of which had forborn coming to the Court since the battle of Saint Alban, they told how they were sent to treat of things necessary and expedient for the public and private peace, the Duke of York, and the Earls of Salisbury, and Warwick came accompanied with 1500. men, the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford waited upon by as many, these were sons to the three Fathers slain in that battle, the Dukes of Excester and of Buckingham, the Lord Egremont and almost all the nobility of the Kingdom appeared in like manner: lodgings were severally appointed for them in different places, to shun their encountering, the City was assigned to Yorks faction. The Suburbs to that of Lancaster, the King and Queen lay in the Bishop's house, serving as a bar betwixt the two, the Major and Magistracy together with 5000. armed men supplied the place of guard, walking the streets day and night to prevent tumults; those of York assembled themselves together at Blackfriars, and those of Lancaster at Westminster, much a do, there was to compound the business, wherein the Archbishop of Canterbury laboured much. At last, a reconciliation was signed, wherein the offenders being fined in certain payments to the offended, they all indifferently obliged 1459. themselves to the obedience of the King, and to esteem those as friends or enemies who the King should esteem such, the which being done a solemn procession was made, wherein all the Nobility of both factions intermingled did walk before the King, in his robes and diadem, and the Duke of York followed after him, leading the Queen by the arm, but the more discreet might read in their countenances that their ill wills were not changed, according as they endeavoured to make them appear to be, and as almost immediately did appear. The Duke of York, and Earl of Salisbury went to York, Warwick stayed at London, his charge of Callais detaining him longer in Court. It happened, that as he was one day sitting in Council one of his men fell into contestation with one of the King's servants, by whom he was provoked, wounded him and withdrew himself to a place of safety. The guard and others of the Court who were hot upon the revenge of their fellow servant, not able to get him who had offended them, reflected upon the person of the Earl his Master, and set upon him as he was coming from council to take boat, and had been slain had he not been assisted by some: he had leisure to leap into his boat, and recover the City. The Queen were it that she was misformed of the business, or that out of malice, she took his pretence to bereave the Earl of his life, commanded his being detained, the which if it had happened he had been for ever lost. But being by his friends advertised, he hastened to York and brought the first news himself to the Duke, and his Father. He concluded, that the violation of oaths, and of the peace, brooked no more dissimulation, that the last of fortune was to be attempted either to live or die, and taking leave of them he went to Callais, to seize himself of the Town as it well behoved him to do: where he was received according to the authority of his charge, which had not been, had the King given order to the contrary at his departure from London: without this fort the Tryumverat had been ill besieged, for from thence they took their first advantage. York and Salisbury were of opinion that this disorder proceeded from the Queen's malice; to the end, that Warwick being slain they might the easilier be suppressed, and although they resolved to make use of force, yet they thought best, that the Earl of Salisbury should go to London, with such troops as were most in readiness, should complain of the violated faith and demand justice, to the end that if it should be denied, their actions might appear more justifiable. That the Duke assembling, this meanwhile a good army should come to join with him, that they might jointly advise, what resolutions to take according as time and occasion should serve, the Earl marched towards London, with near upon 5000. men, whilst the Queen advertised of his coming, gave order to the Lord Audely (through whose territories, he was to pass) to give him battle out of pretence that justice ought not be demanded at a Prince's hands with troops of men, contrary to the tenure of the laws; since such proceedings were fit for him that would enforce not entreat: the Baron having this commission meet him near Drayton in Shropshire with 10000 fight men. The Earl seeing himself twharted, resolved to fight; so as encamping himself near unto him, the two armies being only divided by a small water, he tarried there all night, and commanded his bowmen to shoot upon break of day into the enemy's camp: so to provoke him, and at the same time they should retreat. Audely egged on by the arrows, but more by the Queen's express command to take the Earl alive or dead, seeing him retire, commanded his vanguard to pass over the water and stay him, he himself passing over at the same time, whilst the rest which were on the other side were of no use. Unto him which was the very thing, the Earl aimed at in his retreat, so as turning about he furiously assaulted him. The welfare of his men proceeded from their despairing of faring well, for being certain to far ill if they should lose, they resolved rather to die fight then to live in shackells, and perchance be hanged. The Baron was one of the first that was slain and together with him about 2400. more, a sorrowful happiness for some days to the Earl, for his two sons john and Thomas being wounded in the Battle were both taken as they were providing for their cure, and seeking out a bed in some neighbouring place, they were led away to Chester, and were likely to have fared ill, had not the Inhabitants of that Town affectionate to York set them at liberty, so as the Earl having recovered them, did plenarily enjoy his good fortune, this battle was the chance which ruined both the parties, though for a while it was fortunate to York's Successor, for God after having chastised the one side, & the other; was pleased to appease his anger, by the uniting of both the houses which put an end to the civil wars. The Duke of York having received advertisement from the Earl 1460. himself of this good success writ thereof to Callais, from whence came the Earl of Warwick, with a good band of old soldiers commanded by Andrew Trollop and john Blunt Captains, who were accustomed to the French-warres, they marched all three to Shrewesbery, so strong as they feared not to meet the enemy, the King who had notice of their design gathered together a very great army, part of which came for the love they bore to him part for fear of the Queen whose anger was implacable. The Duke had pitched his camp not far from Ludlow upon the confines of Wales, whither the King went likewise to plant his, and where they stood looking one upon an other waiting their best advantage, but the Duke thinking it would be dangerous for him to temporise, since consciences are subject to repentance, & the insurrections of subjects against their Princes ought either to be suddenly executed, or not at all undertaken; resolved to give him battle early the nextmorning. The Earl of Warwick had not declare himself to the two fore named Captains to be an enemy unto the King; so as when they saw; they were led to fight against their own Prince, in whose service and under whose pay they ever had, and yet did live, they fled to the King's camp, and acquainted the King with the Duke's intention, who imagining his design was discovered, as it was resolved to fly, which whether it proceeded out of his fear of Trolops valour and wisdom upon whom he had much relied, or for that he thought his example would induce others to do the like; I do not know. He went to Wales, from thence to Ireland together with his second son the Earl of Rutland, his eldest son the Earl of March; together with Salisbury and Warwick embarked himself in Devonshire, and made for jernesey, from whence he went to Callais, where without any manner of difficulties; he and his companions were received: the King sent after the one, and the other but in vain, he pardoned all that stayed, save some few who could not be left unpunished for examples sake, he sacked Ludlow, and Ludlowe Castle, he detained the Duchess of York and her Sister the Duchess of Buckingham; he banished those that were fled, and by Parliament declared them to be rebels, traitors, enemies, to the Kingdom and confiscated their goods; he disposed of their commands, he gave the wardenship of the North marches to the Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford. and the command of Callais to the Duke of Somerset: on the which if he had thought at first (as hath been said) their ruin had been inevitable wanting that place of refuge, the Duke of Somerset believing to have possession given him, with as much ease as he had the grant of the place, went thither with a good band of soldiers, but being shot at by the cannon from within the Town, he withdrew himself a little of, and sent unto the Captains of the garrison to let them know the occasion of his coming, and caused his letters patents to be showed them, but this availed him nothing nay having retired himself to Guines by skirmishing, from whence he thought to bring them to obedience, his ships went into the haven at Callais, bearing a long with them those to whose charge they were recommanded, who being enemies to Warwick were forthwith beheaded. His skirmishes this mean while did daily diminish the number of his soldiers, the which though it did the like to those within the Town, yet did they not so much feel the loss for they had every day fresh supplies, many of the same faction flocking apace unto them, from England unsent for, whereupon having advertised the King and Queen of what straits he was in, they dispatched away unto him, the Lord Rivers and Sir Antony Woodveile his son with 400. soldiers, who being come to Sandwich had the winds so contrary as they could not put to Sea, the Earl of March had notice of all these proceedings and those of Callais who sent away Sir john Denham with a company of soldiers more valiant than numerous, who with a wind as favourable to them as it was contrary to their enemies, entered the Haven and Town of Sandwich, which being unguarded and free from suspicion, her Inhabitants thought they might sleep securely, he took the Lord Rivers and his son in their beds, and though the soldiers awakened made head and wounded Denham in the leg, whereupon he remained lame, he not withstanding mastered them, he sacked many houses, he being favoured by the mariners made himself master of the chiefest of the Kings-ships, furnished with all manner of warlike provisions, and returning to Callais he presented them to the Earl of March together with the prisoners; the Earl of Warwick made use of these ships to convey himself into Ireland to the Duke of York: in his going and returning, he was so favoured by the winds as he spent not above 30. days in his whole journey, but he had come short home being waited for by the Lord Admiral the Duke of Excester in his return, had not the Duke's commands been in like manner set at nought by the soldiers and mariners, being come to Callais, he told them that the Duke's pleasure was that passing into England, they should vex the King, till both the King and those, he should bring along with him should come and join with them; the King to inhabit their landing had caused the Seaports to be fortified deputing Sir Simon Monfort for that work, who to effect it went to get into Sandwich, but nothing being done in Court, whereof the Earl of March had not notice even by the King's domestics, he sent thither the Lord Falconbridge who took it the second time, and sent Monfrot with divers other prisoners unto him, advising him that the inclination of that shire considered, she should do well not to lose time, but crossing the Sea, he should march up to London as to a certain victory, this advice was approved of by the three Earls, so as having caused Monfords' head to be struck of, and the heads of other twelve leaving good order for what belonged to Callais, they came to Kent where they were met by the Lord Cobham, and so vast a number of others as were esteemed to amount to 4000 fight men. The Lord Scales both a favourite of King and Queen hearing of their coming, gathered some forces together, and having in his company the Count de Candale Aguascon and the Lord Lovel, he hasted to secure London; but being told by the Lord Major that he stood not in need of that succour, nor would permit that other men should meddle with what was his charge, he much incensed entered the Tower, understanding by that denial that the City was not for the King, as the effects made manifest, for when the three Earls came thither, they were received with general applause, and the Earls of March and Warwick going from thence with 20000. fight men, the Earl of Salisbury, the Lord Cobham and Sir john Vanlock tarried behind to keep so important a City true unto them. The Queen (for the King had no thought but of his soul's health) had assembled a good army, and Coventry, which conducted the King to Northampton, amongst other Lords there was in that army, the Duke of Somerset, who was newly returned from Guienes, and the Duke of Buckingham they were no sooner come thither, but they heard of the enemy's approach, so as passing the River, they went to encamp themselves in the neighbouring fields, the Earl of March egged on by his youth, early in the morning began the battle their arrows played on both sides whilst any were left, than they came to handy blows for 5. hours together without any indifferency. At last the King was the loser with the death of 10000 men, a great loss, but not of so great a consequence as it was, had he not lost himself for being bereft of his defendors who were slain round about his person, he fell into the power of the enemy. There died of Lords the Duke of Buckingham, john Talbot Earl of Shrewsbery (who fight valiantly did not degenerate from his Father) the Lord Egremont, the Viscount Beaumont, besides many other Knights and Gentlemen: great was the number of prisoners especially of Knights and Gentlemen; for being lighted from horse to fight on foot they had no means to save themselves. The Queen, Prince Edward her son, and the Duke of Somerset fled to the Bishopric of Durham, the victor being returned to London inflicted such punishments as are accustomed in the injustice of civil Wars; upon such his adversaries as he found in the City, those who could escape fared better; Thomas Thorp second Baron of the Exchequer endeavouring to escape was taken with his head shaved like a Friar, and in a Friar's habit he lodged a long time in the Tower, those of the Tower had yielded upon certain conditions which not being clear enough for the Lord Scales his safety, he thought to escape unknown, but being discovered by certain Watermen he was taken, slain, his body wallowing in his blood and stripped of all of his apparel left to the public view of all men, post after post was sent into Ireland to acquaint the Duke of York with this victory, so as persuading himself, that nothing now remained to hinder him from possessing the Crown, he took shipping and came to London at the same time that the Parliament was assembled, he made his entry with great troops of men, and trumpets sounded before him, he made the sword be carried before as Kings use to do, only with this difference that where as it is carried sheathed before them, before him it was carried naked, he lighted from horse at the King's palace of Westminster, and entering into the upper house of Parliament where the King's throne was, he laid his hand a good while upon it, as if by that act, he had taken possession of it, when he took of his hand, he turned to those that were by, as desirous to read in their countenances what success he should have, and as it is usual for us to flatter ourselves, in what we passionately desire, he thought they approved of what he had done. But the Archbishop of Canterbury standing up and ask him if he would be pleased to go and see the King, he changed countenance and angrily answered him, he knew not any in the Kingdom to whom he ought that duty, but that on the contrary all men ought it to him, so as the Archbishop going forth to acquaint the King with this answer who lay in the Queen's lodgings not in his own, he likewise went forth and entered into the King's lodgings, where finding many doors sshut, he caused the doors to be broke open, to the much disdain of those who could not brook so great a pride: since that the King living and in possession of the Crown for 38. years (not numbering those of his Grandfather and Father) at his first arrival he by his own proper authority pretended to be King. But they were more scandalised when coming again into the Parliament house, he sat himself down in the King's Chair under the cloth of State, where after having set a while he told them a long rabble of reasons, why he had sat down in that place, that by the law it was due unto him, and that contrary to the law it had been usurped by the three last Kings from the house of Mortimer, the lawful heir to the Duke of Clarence, and lastly from his house of York, the others lawful heir. He exaggerated the evil means Henry the fourth used in usurpingthe Crown, his cruelty in deposing and murdering Richard the second, the injustice of Henry the fifth in causing his Father to be beheaded at Southampton, that he might establish himself, and that he being now of years, & without hope of ever enjoying what was his right by fair mean's, was enforced to betake himself to force, not for any respect of himself, but to restore peace unto the kingdom, which was not to be had by any other me●…n's, that he ought rather to be praised then blamed for this, since thereby the evils should be redressed which were sprung up and were to spring up, especially under a weak King, who to the so much shame of the English nation had lost France, Normandy, Maine, Anjou, and in one only year; Aquitany after the Crown had been hereditarily possessed thereof little less than 300. years, that for these reasons, he had taken the Chair wherein he sat as belonging to him, and that his mind gave him that with their assistance he should restore it to its ancient glory, and that it behoved them as peers to concur with him in equal actions affections and ends. When he had done speaking, the Lords wereall so astonished as looking for an answer no man opened his mouth, but all stood like dumb immovable statues, whereat not much contented, he wished them to think upon what he had said, and being again desired to go visit the King, he said God excepted) he knew no superior: two prodigies are said to have happened at the same time, that the Duke of York alleged his reasons of laying claim unto the Crown in the upper house; from the top of the lower house there hung a Crown with certain branches serving for Candlesticks affixed to it, and on the top of Dover Castle was an other anciently placed for the adornment of that place. At this instant time they both of themselves fell down, no cause at all being to be given for it, whereupon judgement was made that in like manner the Crown of the Kingdom was to fall; The Duke of York at his very first commotions against King Henry, had sent unto james the second King of Scotland, to desire his aid and to acquaint him with his pretensions, but james not willing to meddle in other men's affairs answered, that the English had taken many of his Towns, whilst having enough to do with rebels at home, he had not means to defend them, that if he would promise to restore them he would assist him, the Duke promised him so to do: upon these hopes, james assembled a great army, and at the same time, the Earl of Marsh took the King prisoner besieged Roxborough. York who had now no more need of him seeing in what danger the Town was, sent unto him to let him know, that now he had ended the War, that he thanked him for the promise of his assistance, but that the siege of Roxborough being a thing which did dislike the people, and himself, thought the occasion thereof, he desired him to rise from before it without endamaging England, and that he had much a do to detain the English from taking up arms to succour it; the King rejoicing at the Duke's prosperous success enquired of the Messengers whether they had any commission or no to restore unto him such places as were taken from him, and as was promised by the Duke to which they answering no, neither will I said he quit a siege, which I hope suddenly to put an end unto uninterrupted by these threats, be they his or the people's; then playing with his cannon upon the Town with more fury then formerly such was his misfortune as a piece of Ordnance bursting in two, a spilter thereof slew him, and hurt the Earl of Angus not hurtihg any other body, this accident did notwithstanding break off the siege, for the besieged wanting all things requisite, and they themselves reduced to a small number by reason of the often assaults, they yielded themselves to the new King james the third, their lives and goods saved. The death of this King was accompanied by the death of Charles King of France, which though it were not violent, yet was the strangest that ever was heard of, being sick some of his flatterers to make their zeal appear the more, put a conceit into his head that surely somebody meant to poison him. He forbore from taking any manner of food seven days, and when his Physicians told him that his weakness proceeded from his forbearing meat and not from any sickness, he would have eaten but could not, for the channels through which his meat should pass were closed up; whereupon he died, and left the Kingdom to his son Lewes the eleaventh. The difference between the King and the Duke of York was by the Parliament, after many disputations thus ended; that though the Crown had been usurped by Henry the fourth from Edmond Mortimer Earl of Marsh, then living and did lawfully descend upon him, the Duke of York as borne of Anna the heir of Philip's rights, the only Daughter to Lionel the Duke of Clarrence; yet to withstand the evils which might arise from Henry's deposing, who had been King above the space of 38. years; the Duke of York should be contented, that Henry should reign as long as he should live, and that after his death, he the Duke of York or his next heir should succeed him in his Kingdom. The next day being all Saints-day, the King with his robes on, and Crown upon his head went in Procession to Saint Paul's waited upon by the Duke, who after being proclaimed next heir and protector of the Kingdom, desired that to annul all jealousies; the King would send for the Queen and her son Prince Edward, the which he did, but she denying to come and having taken up arms to set her Husband at liberty and to nullify whatsoever had been done in prejudice of her son, the Duke resolved to prevent her; he recommended the Custody of the King to the Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Warwick. He commanded the Earl of Marsh to follow him with the greatest forces he could get, as speedily as he could, and he himself accompanied by the Earl of Salisbury went to Sandals a Castle of his own near Wakefield, where of friends and dependants, he assembled 5000. men, the which, when the Queen heard of, she hasted to meet with him before he about should join with his son. She had with her above 18000. fight men, and was followed almost be all the Lords of the Northern parts of England. Together with Prince Edward her son, the Dukes of Excester and Somerset, the Earls of Devonshire and Wiltshire and the Lord Clifford, with these she presented herself before the Walls of Sandall's, the Earl of Salisbury and Sir David Hall who counselled the Duke, were of opinion that he should keep within the Walls till the coming of the Earl of Marsh, since she had no artillery to batter the Castle. But he more apt to generous then discreet resolutions thinking it a shame, that a Woman should keep him shut up within a Wall, when so many valiant French Commanders in his so many years' warfare in that Kingdom could not boast of so much, sallied forth the last of December and descended into the fields beneath to confront her; this Castle is seated upon a pleasant Hill, and the Queen having divided her people into 3. parts she laid two of them in Ambush, under the Earl of Wiltshire, and the Lord Clifford on two sides of the Hill, and with the third wherein were the Dukes of Somerset and Excester, she met him in the plain as soon as the Battle was begun he was environed on all sides, defeated in less than half an hour, and himself valiantly fight slain together with 2800. of his men, the Earl of Salisbury was wounded and taken prisoner. Robert Aspell Chaplain to the Duke, and Tutor to the Earl of Rutland, a child of 12. years old seeing the ill success of businesses led his charge forth to save him, but by the Lord Clifford's troops, and by Clifford himself, observed who saw him nobly attired, he was by him with his dagger in hand demanded who he was, the unfortunate Youth struck dumb with fear with hands held up, and a submiss countenance did tacitly pray for mercy and pardon; the Chaplain who by naming him thought to save him, told him who he was, and that if he would save his life, he would spend it in his service, but Clifford swore fearfully, that as his Father had slain his, so would he do him and all his race, than struck his dagger to his heart, and went his way rejoicing at the most barbarous and inhuman revenge, that ever cruel man took. Then casting himself upon the Duke's dead body, he cut off the head, and crowning it with a Crown of paper, he presented it upon the point of a lance to the Queen: the Earl of Salisbury and other prisoners were beheaded at Pumfret, and their heads together with the Dukes set upon the Gates of York; whilst they rejoiced, who not many days after bewailed their own calamity as did the Queen, or shared in the like fortune as did Clifford. The Earl of Marsh in Gloucester received the news of his Father's defeat and death, but being comforted by those of the City and such as lived along the River Seaverne, who were infinitely affectionate to the house of Mortimer of the which he was heir; he with 23000. men ready to spend their lives in his quarrel as they did very well demonstrate, resolved upon revenge, he was ready to be gone when he understood that jasper Earl of Pembroke brother by the Mother's side to the King, and james Butler Earl of Ormonde and Wiltshire followed by great troops of Irish and Welsh, were joined together to surprise him; changing resolution, he made towards them and met them not far from Hereford; on Candlemas-day, he defeated them and slew 3800. of their men, the two Earls fled away, and Owen Teudor the second Husband of King Henry's Mother, and Father to the Earl of Pembroke was taken prisoner, and with others that were taken with him immediately beheaded, though some will have him to be dead many years before by the command of the Duke of Gloucester. The Queen at the same time with an army of Irish, Scots, and people of the North parts of England went towards London, with intention to set her Husband at liberty and to undo what in the preceding Parliament was done by the Duke of York's authority, to the prejudice of her son's succession. The ill opinion the Citizens had of her, and the fear of being pillaged by those stranger people, made them not only resolve to put an extraordinary guard into the City, but to take up arms under the conduct of the Duke of Norfolk, and the Earl of Warwick who carrying the King along with them did not remember that his presence brought always ill fortune along with it. They came to handy blows near to Saint Alban where though they were not wanting unto themselves, the Queen not withstanding had the victory, the two Lords fled away, leaving the Lord Bonneveile and Sir Thomas Terrill with the King, who might have fled with the rest had they not thought the King's authority sufficient for their safe guard; in this Batttell 2300. persons died, amongst which no person of note except john Graye who that very day was Knighted; The Queen having recovered her Husband made him Knight; Prince Edward her son a Child of eight years old, and 30. more of those who had valiantly behaved themselves in the Battle, and persuading herself that having caused the principals to fly, dissipated their partakers and recovered the King, London would be obedient to her, she sent command to the Major, to send her in victuals for her men, the which he obeyed, but the people opposed him and stayed the carts at the City gates. This examples shows the error which some time Princes run into when flattering themselves, they promise themselves obedience from a distasted people, and who without fear of punishment have already begun to disobey. The Magistrate for all he could say to show the evil that might ensue could not prevail for they still cried out the more, that the City had not need to succour them, who came with an intention to pillage it. This disobedience grew yet more obstinate by reason of an insolent troop of horse, who at the same time came from Saint Alban to pillage the Suburbs, and many of them hasting to Cripplegate, the Gate whereat the carts were stayed and endeavouring to enter, they were beaten back, and three of them slain to the great trouble of the wisest sort, for it was to be feared that the Queen being in arms, and so many several ways offended would rigorously resent it: The Major sent to excuse himself to the Council which lay at Barnet, and the Duchess of Bedford accompanied by the Lady Scales, and some Prelates went to the Queen to pacify her, they persuaded her, that some Lords might beesent, with 400. armed men, who riding about the streets might appease the tumult, and that part of the Aldermen should come to meet her at Barnet, to bring her, and the King peaceably into the City, but all these appointments did on a sudden prove vain, for whilst they whereupon the execution thereof came the news of Pembroke's and Wilshires defeat, how that the Earl of Marsh and Warwick were met, and making towards London, so as she not affying in the neighbouring Countries and less in London; went presently towards the Northern parts; which were affectionate to her; having before her departure caused the Lord Bonnaveile and Sir Thomas Terrill be beheaded, though the King had promised them safety, whilst she should have used clemency to win upon the enemy, not cruelly to make him desperate. The Earl of March on the contrary who for his amiable conditions was in every man's mouth and desires, understanding the King's retreat rid straight to London, where being received with universal applause, and all the Inhabitants of the neighbouring Countries gone to make offer unto him of their persons lands and goods, he caused a great assembly of Lords Ecclesiastical, and Temporal to be made, and joined unto them the chiefest of the Commons, wherein when he had laid open his ancient pretences and the late agreement made in Parliament between King Henry and the Duke of York his Father, he desired, that since that agreement was broken by Henry, Henry might be declared not to have any right thereby to the Crown (whereas he was only King by virtue thereof) and that he might be substituted in his place according to the said agreement, and the justice of his claim, the which being by the assembly considered, and the title of the honour of York judged legitimate, it was declared that Henry having violated the oath, and broken the accord made by the authority of the last Parliament, had made himself unworthy of the Crown, and was by the same authority deprived of all regal honour and title being thereof incapable, and a prejudice to the Common wealth, that instead of him Edward Earl of March son and heir to the Duke of York was to be acknowledged King. The people joyfully received this declaration, and the next day (which was the fourth of March) he went to Saint Paul's, where Te Deum being sung, he made the offering which Kings use to do, and was in Westminster proclaimed King, by the name of Edward the fourth. FINIS. THE SECOND PART OF THE HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND Between the two Houses of Lancaster and York. WHEREIN IS CONTAINED The Prosecution thereof, in the lives of EDWARD the fourth EDWARD the fifth RICHARD the third, and HENRY the seventh. Written originally in Italian By Sir Francis Biondi Knight, late Gentleman of the Privy-Chamber to His Majesty of Great Britain. Englished by the Right Honourable, HENRY Earl of Monmouth: The second Volume. LONDON, Printed by E. G. for Richard Whitaker, and are to be sold at his shop at the King's Arms in Paul's Churchyard. 1646. To the Readers his beloved COUNTRYMEN. I Know it is not usual to say any thing before Second parts of the Same continued Story; nor, truly, am I so enamoured of my own Pen as to write more than according to some acception may be thought Needful. The reasons then that drew me to this (otherwise Unnecessary) Epistle, are; First, to let my Readers know, lest I may seem to derogate from my Author, by tacitly arrogating to Myself, that the three Last lives of this Volume are not yet (as I can hear of) printed in Italian, and the Author being dead, out of whose written Papers, whilst he was here in England, I translated them; I know not whether they may ever undergo the Press in the Language wherein they were by him penned, or no. My next inducing reason is; That the subject of both parts of this Treatise being Civil Wars, and this Second coming forth in a Time of Civil Wars in the Same Country, I hope I may be excused for doing what in me lies to persuade to a Happy Peace: whereunto I know no more powerful Argument, then by showing the Miseries of War, which is a Tragedy that always destroys the Stage whereon it is acted; and which when it once seizeth upon a Land rich in the plenty of a Long Peace, and full with the Surfeit of Continued Ease, seldom leaves Purging those Superfluities, till All (not only Superfluous but mere Necessaries) be wasted and consumed, as is sufficiently made to appear throughent this whole History. I know no Nation in Christendom that could (till of some late years) more truly have boasted of the blessings of Peace, Plenty, and Ease, than this n●…w Miserable Kingdom of Ours; insomuch as it may be truly said of Us, Quae alia res civiles furores peperit quam nimia faelicitas? Ariosto says. Non cognosce la pace è non la stima Chi provata non ha la guerra prima. We have now sufficiently tried both Peace and War; let us wisely betake ourselves to the Best choice, and say with Livy; Melior tutiorque certa pax quam sperata victoria: illa in tuâ, haec deorum in manu est. And what though the balance of Victory may lean some times much more to the one side then to the other: many Checks may be taken; but the Game is never won till the Mate be given: and if you will believe Guicchiardine, who was a Solid and Experienced Statesman, be will tell you, that Nelle guerre fat communement da molti Potentati contra un solo, suole essere major le spavento che gli effetti; perch prestament si rafreddano gli impeti primi cemminciando a nascere varietà de pareri, onde s'indebolisce tra loro la fede e le forze: e cosi spesso auviene che le imprese comminciate con grandissima riputatione, caggieno in melt difficultà, e finalment diventano vane. If all be true that is of late reported, ou●… two great neighbouring Kings are concluding a Peace; if so, we may invert the Proverb of Tunc tua res agitur, etc. I believe we are most concerned when Their walls are Lest on fire; and unless it please Almighty God so to inspire the hearts both of our King and Parliament to the speedy piecing up of these unfortunate Rents, and mischieveous Misunderstandings, as that we may have a happy and speedy Peace, cordially agreed on by all sides; I am afraid we may find my belief to be too true; for Civil Wars give fair Advantage to Foreign Powers. Remember then that an honourable Peace is the Centre of War, wherein it should rest, and that when War hath any other end then Peace it turns into Public Murder: and consider that if injustissima p●…x justissimo bello sit anteferenda, as it is held by some, how Blessed will the Peacemakers be in setting an end to that war which is by all sides acknowledged to be Unnatural? having our Saviour's word for their attestate, that they shall be owned for the Children of God. Ita bellum suscipiatur (saith Cicero) ut nihil aliud quam pax quesita videatur. That this may be the endeavour of all parties interressed, is the Sincere Counsel and Humble Advise of him who is a Faithful and Loyal Subject unto his King, an earnest Interceder to God Almighty for a Blessing upon the Parliament, a Hearty Wellwisher to his Country: and who wil●… conclude all with the words of the man according to Gods own heart●… Seek Peace, and pursue it. Imprimatur May 18. 1645: Na. Breut. THE six BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND In the Life of Edward the Fourth. WIth what ease Edward came unto the Kingdom, is worthy of observation, but hard it is to give a just reason thereof: whether power, Justice, or the people's inclination. It was not power, since he was admitted of by election; not Justice, for to decide the right of the Crown without an Assembly of Parliament is not a duty belonging to the people, especially the tumultuous people of a City, though Metropolitan, without the joint approbation of all the Shires; and say it did by right belong unto him, a business of such importance, against a King that was no usurper, who succeeded to two, who for the space of more than threescore years (his own reign comprehended) were acknowledged and received for Kings, was not to be decided in so short a time: he being Son to the last, one of the best deserving and most glorious Princes that England ever had, and being King himself ever from his cradle for the space of eight and thirty-yeares; so as he had his goodness been as useful as it was innocent, the Duke of York durst not have contested with him for the Kingdom, nor Edward bereft him of it. The people's inclination was then the only thing which took the Kingdom from the one, and gave it to the other; whereby Princes may learn, that long possession without the practice of Princely actions, and the foregoing such affe●…tions as are hurtful and hateful to the people, is not sufficient for their conservation, especially when they are not naturally endued with such virtues as are pleasing, which Henry was not: for the first advantages which Edward had over him, were the endowments of his mind; and the comeliness of his person, which though it may decay, is notwithstanding essential to captivate men's affections; when accompanied, as his was, with clemency, liberality and valour; the most essential virtues requisite in a worthy Prince, and most efficacious to make him be desired: and though all these were not wanting in Henry, yet wanted he the most substantial; and if he had any of them, they were so poorly clad as they wanted those characters of Majesty which become a King; and though they were sufficient to content himself, yet were not they answerable to his quality, nor such as gave content unto the world. Virtues in Princes are lights not to be put under a bushel, but on a candlestick, to the end that they may give light to all men. Their actions should resemble the Sun, which generates, nourishes, and propagates. Edward notwithstanding his virtues and good fortune was descended from an unfortunate house, he being the only one (except Edward, son to Richard the third who died a child) who of all his house died a natural death, after it laid pretence unto the Crown. The Earl of Cambridge his Grandfather was beheaded at Southampton: the Duke of York his Father slain before Sandall: of his three brothers, the Earl of Rutland was slain at the same time; the Duke of Clarence drowned in a Butt of Malmsey, and the Duke of Gloucester after having strangled his nephews, was by Henry the seventh bereft both of life and Kingdom. You will meet with no Tragedy, be it or true or fabulous, where you shall find so many various and cruel deaths as in this family. To die by the hands of the enemy, or by the hangman, though miserable, is yet ordinary; but by a prodigious brother and uncle, unheard of. As there is nothing more uncertain, nor more wrapped up in fancy, than to affirm that destiny was the cause of this, so is it to be believed that it proceeded only from ambition, which disturbing his counsel and advice, made it endeavour to get the Kingdom at the cost of his own and others lives. Not any one of them save this Edward, having enjoyed the Crown unto their end, and that which they did enjoy they enjoyed with such losses, and so much trouble, as that whatsoever fortune (so it be within the bounds of honour) may seem rather to be desired than a Kingdom at such a rate. For to live happy being the end of humane nature, it is no happiness to possess by violence what is superfluous, but being free from perturbations, peacefully to enjoy what is sufficient, according to a man's proper state and fortune, which might be enjoyed, were it not that ambition the enemy to true felicity did persuade us, that no such happiness had any thing of generous in it. We do not here exclude all ambition, but rather commend such as doth awake in us good actions. He cannot be said to be good who is not ambitious of a good report; nor can that ambition be had without an endeavour by our works to deserve it. Yet when she lives solitarily, sequestered from the multitude, in silence and philosophical habit, no man follows her, nor makes mention of her. A sound body affords not so much matter of discourse, as doth an infirm; nor a State well composed, as one misgoverned. The one for all her deserts shall be notwithstanding always neglected; and the other, notwithstanding all her vices, pursued; so much is our vanity delighted with her lustre. Moreover, deeds of violence being those which do enrich story, and which make virtue or vice indifferent, we covet them, always provided that our name do in some sort live in our posterity. But the house of York stood not in need of this; It had reason to hope for remembrance in perpetuity, and to be contented with its own estate, her Nobility was real: She was for Riches and Title to be envied. This notwithstanding she aspired to the Crown, she disturbed her own quiet, and the quiet of the weal public, for one that reigned, hundred thousands died; and all of the same house came to evil ends excep this Edward, who for his part would not have murdered his brother, had he not made himself King, nor had his sons been slain, had they not been to inherit the Kingdom. And Richard the third, though naturally wicked, never had attained to the height of all cruelty and wickedness, had it not been for the thirst of government; so as it had been better for them to have enjoyed their natural greatness under a moderate ambition, than by an immoderate one to make themselves the subject of Tragedy and to be praised but for a few things in future ages. Edward being received for King, and for such proclaimed, immediately left London. The condition of affairs were not such as would suffer him idly to enjoy that dignity, the duration whereof could not be hoped for but by the ruin of his adversary. He easily gathered together great forces, advantaged therein by his predecessors wretchlessness. Each man made offer unto him of all he had, he mustered in the field 49000 men, with the which he stayed at Pum●…ret, and sent the Lord Fitzwater to guard the bridge over the River Air, called Ferrybrigs, that he himself might make use thereof, and inhibit the enemy. Henry on the other side, who by having put to death the Duke of York, thought he had now done all that was requisite, gave the charge of his men to the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford, not so much for that their qualities did deserve it, as for that being inflamed with revenge for their father's deaths at the battle of St. Albans, he could not make choice of any more passionately his; And tarrying himself, together with his wife and son at York, they marched on towards the enemy. As soon as they understood that they had made themselves masters of Ferrybrigs, they made a s●…and: The Lord Clifford only advanced with the Light-horse, and setting upon the bridge by break of day, he easily won it; the guards being all asleep, and not dreaming of the enemy. The Lord Fitzwater awakened with the outcries of those that were slain, and that did slay, (believing it to arise from some tumult amongst his own men) threw himself out of his bed, and unarmed with only a staff in his hand, went to appease them. But too late aware of his mistake, he was there slain, and together with him the bastard of Salisbury, brother to the Earl of Warwick. They who could saved themselves, the Lancastrians remaining masters of the place. The Bastard's death did so much grieve his brother Warwick, (added to the unhappy success of the enterprise, which as being the first he thought might dismay the Army) as hasting to the King to advertise him of the sad event, he lighted off horseback, and thrust his Sword into his horse's belly, saying, Fly who fly will, I will not fly; here will I stay with as many as will keep me company, and kissing the hilt of his Sword by the way of vow, he put it up again. But Edward who did very much resent this misfortune, not that it was of so great consequence in itself, but for that being the first encounter, it might be taken as an evil omen, and deject his men, made Proclamation, that it should be lawful for whosoever had not a mind to fight to depart; he promised large recompenses to those that would tarry, but death to as many as should tarry, and afterwards run away, with reward and double pay to any that should kill them. No man accepted so ignominious a leave, they all chose rather to die than to declare themselves so base cowards. This good success of Clifford was in the mean time of no long continuance, for the Lord Faulconbridge had passed the Air at Castleford, three miles above Ferrybrigs, accompanied by Sir Walter Blunt, and Robert Horn, with intention to surprise him, as he did, though not in that place: for Clifford being thereof advertised, whilst he thought to shun the enemy by going another way, he met with him, and having his Helmet off by reason of the heat of the day, he was with an unexpected shot of an Arrow one of the first that was slain, and together with him the Earl of westmerland's brother, the rest were almost all left dead upon the place. This death was too good for him: The innocent blood of the Earl of Rutland did require of him a foreseen, painful, cruel death. But the punishment which he failed of, his son met withal; who being saved by a poor shepherd, he lived a beggar, and unknown during the reigns of Edward and Richard, till such time as Henry the seventh coming to the Crown, he was by him restored to the honour and inheritance of his family. The Duke of Norfolk, who led Edward's Vanguard was at this time sick, so as Faulconbridge took the charge upon him, and marched by break of day towards Saxton, to see how strong the enemy was, and finding him to be 60000 men strong, he advertised Edward thereof, who though much inferior in number, went forthwith to encounter him. The day was Palm-Sunday. Edward took his stand in the middle Squadron, sent the Bowmen forwards, and recommended the rearward to Sir john Venloe, and Sir john Dinham both of them valiant Gentlemen. He gave command that no prisoner should be taken, but all indiffereetly put to the Sword. The Lancastrians marched towards them, and met them in the fields between Towton and Saxton. The first salvation was given by Arrows, but with different event, for at this time there fell a shower of snow, and the wind driving the snow upon the faces of Henry's men, they were therewith so blinded, as they shot in vain, and their Arrows beaten back by the wind, fell half way short; the which Faulconbridge observing, after the first volley, he forbade his men to shoot, and when the enemy had shot all their Arrows he drew up nearer unto them, letting fly at them not only with his own Arrows (which assisted by the wind, did hit where they were intended) but those likewise of the enemy, which in his march he found sticking in the ground. Hereupon the Earl of Northumberland and Andrew Trolop who led the Vanguard perceiving the disadvantage, made haste to come to handy-blowes. The combat endured ten hours, it not being known who had the better, and all of them fight, as if they had overcome. Such was the hatred of the two factions, and their resolution not to yield, as the command not to take prisoners was bootless, for they resolved either to overcome or die. Nothing doth more encourage an Army then the presence of the Prince, and the Captain's example. Edward was an eyewitness of his soldier's valour, as King, and they of his Captaine-like courage. A sight which made them choose rather to die than not to imitate him. The Lancastrians were at last enforced to yield, by reason of the small number that was left, not able to make resistance. They gave back, but not as men overcome; they were still pursued, but did not still fly away; they oftentimes reunited themselves, and though in weak Troops, they made such resistance, as those of York could not be termed Conquerors till the next day. Those who remained alive went toward Tadcaster-bridge; but not able to get so far, and thinking to wade over a little rivelet named Cock, the greatest part of them were drowned. The waters of that River and of the River Warfe, into which it disgorges itself seemed, all to be of blood. The number of the dead was 36776. amongst which the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, the Lord Dakers, and Wells; and amongst many Knights, Sir john Nevil, and Sir Andrew Trolop. The Dukes of Somerset and of Exeter saved themselves and the Earl of Devonshire was (I know not how) taken prisoner, I believe for that they were weary of killing. Had not France had a young King at this time, or had the new King found France in a better condition, after so many years' wars; or had not Scotland had so young a child for its King, and distracted with intestine factions, England had run a danger, having lost the flower of all her Warriors, who were fit not only to have defended her, but to have made whatever difficult achievement. Edward having obtained this bloody victory, went to York, where he caused the Earl of Salisburies' father, and other of his friends to be beheaded, as likewise the Earl of Devonshire, and some other. This mean while Henry was got to Berwick, and from thence to Scotland, where he was with all humanity received, comforted, and had provision made for him of some small pension by that young King, who likewise agreed that Princess Margaret his sister should marry Prince Edward, Henry's son; but this marriage was not afterwards consummated, and Henry to requite these courtesies, did what if he had been in his former condition he would not have done. He gave the Town of Berwick to King james, a place very advantageous to the Scots, and long before desired by them. The Queen his wife went with her son into France, to procure some means by her father the King of Sicily, whereby to recover what was lost. She obtained of Lewis King of France free access for as many English as were of her side, and banishment for those who sided with her adversary; businesses of no great consequences. Edward returned triumphant to London the 29. of june. He was Crowned at Westminster, in a Parliament which was there held, he revoked all such thing as had been done by Henry to the prejudice of the House of York, and of himself; he reform many enormities, which civil dissension had brought in; he created his two brothers Dukes; George, of Clarence, and Richard, of Gloucester: he made john Nevil brother to the Earl of Warwick, Baron, and afterwards marquis. He created Henry Burchier Earl of Essex, who was his uncle, as husband to his father's sister; and the Lord William Faulconbridge Earl of Kent. All which promotions did succeed the deaths of john Vere, Earl of Oxford, and Auberey his eldest son, who together with others were beheaded, either through the malice of their enemies, or that the King held himself injured by them. By reason whereof john Earl of Oxford his second son, was always his professed enemy. Passion makes us always abhor the authors of our evil. This happy success of Edward's made many (amongst which the Duke of Somerset, and Sir Ralph Peircy) to change sides: they were graciously received to mercy by the King, who together with their lives, restored unto them their goods, making them thereby inexcusable of second faults. The first plighted faith ought always constantly to be observed, and if by necessity broken, it ought not to be broken again, for so both the former and latter oaths are violated: an error common amongst those who esteem of all advantages, breach of faith the most advantageous. Queen Margaret did at last obtain from King Lewis (for the King of Sicily her father could not assist her in any thing) a Troop of 500 men conducted by Monsieur de Varennes, with the which she passed over into Scotland; but she had no sooner landed, than she was forced to re-imbarke herself being waylaid by the enemy. So as putting to Sea again, the Vessel wherein she was, was by a tempest parted from the rest, and not without difficulty put in at Berwick, whereby she preserved her liberty, which she had lost had she kept with the other ships. For the French being driven upon the shore, and not knowing what side to take (the wind forbidding them to put to Sea, and the enemy to Land) they took such resolution as nature taught them. They prolonged the ruin which could not be escaped; they burned their ships and retired themselves to Holy-Iland, where they were set upon by the bastard Ogle, and defeated, many of them slain, and 400. of them taken prisoners; Varrennes, and some few more, by means of a Fisherboat got into Berwick. This bad success did not allay the Queen's courage: for adding to the Scotish forces such of England as upon the news of her arrival were come to serve her, she together with her husband entered Northumberland, (leaving her son at Berwick) and winning the Castle of Bambury; she passed forward to the Bishopric of Durham. The news hereof being come to England the Duke of Somerset, and Sir Ralph Peircy (forgetting the late favours received from Edward) did with many others come over to her side. And she affording all liberty to the soldier, as not having wherewithal to pay him, did thereby invite all such as had more mind to filch than to fight. Her courage thus increasing with her numbers, she was not aware that such like men are seldom beneficial; especially when they want Commanders who know how to reduce them to discipline. It fared clean otherwise with Edward. He was not enforced by necessity desperately to hazard his affairs; but proceeded wisely with the counsel and authority of a King, valiant in himself, having with him the Earl of Warwick, a most understanding Commander, followed by the Nobility, and choice men well paid, having ships well rig'd, and well munitioned, in readiness. Thus he came to oppose her by Sea and Land. He Commanded the Lord Nevil to go before him into Northumberland with such forces as were most in readiness to withstand the damages which were there done, whilst he prepared to follow him. He fortuned to meet with the Lord Hungerford, Lord Rosse, and Sir Ralph Peircy. He discomfited them all. The first two ran away at the first encounter; the third; with many others who fought valiantly, was slain, and as he died, uttered these words, That he had preserved the Bird in his bosom; as much as to say, He had kept his faith unto Henry. Edward was a cause of this victory, by sending unto him new Forces, as soon as he was come to York, which infused so much courage into him, as he thought to overcome Henry, and win that honour himself alone, which he could not do if he should expect the coming of others, and so it fell out: for having notice that Henry was at Hexam, and imagining that if he should offer him battle he would not accept it, he set upon him in his Trenches, and finding him in good order, he had much ado to overcome him; But nothing is impossible to a resolution accompanied by virtue the mother of courage, which was in him, when it meets with desperation the stepdame of courage, which was in his adversary. The Lancastrians were defeated in their Trenches, and the Duke of Somerset, the Lords Rosse, Moulins, and Hungerford, together with many Gentlemen whilst they fled were taken, and Henry who in all his life-time was never esteemed an extraordinary horseman, showed himself upon this occasion a very good one; for as he fled many that were very near him were taken, in particular some that were upon his horses of State, and he who carried his Helmet, or (as others will have it) a Hat adorned with two rich Crowns, which was afterwards presented to Edward, whilst he yet escaped untouched. The Duke of Somerset was forthwith beheaded at Hexam, the Barons elsewhere, and five and twenty others at York, and in other parts. Many there were that did hide themselves in sundry places; but at such times, farewell friendship and faith, for Proclamations being made forth against them, they were taken and put to death. Edward hearing of this victory came to Durham, whither came likewise the victorious Lord, from whence together with his brother of Warwick, and the Lords Faulconbridge and Scroop, he went to recover such places as were yet possessed by the enemy. The Castle of Anwicke where the Queen had left Monsieur de Varrennes Governor, was valiantly defended by the French, and those of the garrison, affording thereby leisure to the Scots to come in unto their succour, thirteen thousand whereof commanded by George Douglas Earl of Angus (ten thousand horse, saith Buchanan) came thither, which the English were not able to resist, being much fewer in number, for they were divided, and were come to this enterprise with small forces. But Douglas not willing to trouble himself with keeping of the Castle, his design being only to free the besieged without more ado, left it to the enemy; who on the other side being more desirous of the Castle, than of those that did defend it, were well contented to have it upon these terms. And leaving a sufficient Garrison there, they took in Dustansbery, commanded by john joice, a servant of the Duke of Somersets, who was sent to York and executed. They took likewise Bambery defended by Sir Ralph Grace, who having sworn allegiance to both sides, was before his death degraded from the Honour of Knighthood in this manner: He had a Coat of Arms put on him reversed, his gilt Spurs were by a Cook hewed off his heels, and his Sword broken over his head; a thing much more ignominious than death itself, especially to a man of so Noble and Worthy a Family. Edward having thus with a little water quenched a flame which was likely to have set all England on fire, fortified all the Frontiers, & built Forts upon such parts of the Sea as were fittest for landing, he denounced heavy punishments against any who should favour or give receptacle to Henry, Queen Margarite, or any of their associates. He forbore not to use the like care in the other parts of his Kingdom, especially in the Southern parts, where landing was easiest for such as should come from Normandy. In the places of the Earl of Northumberland and Earl of Pembroke who were fled with Henry, he created john Nevil Lord Montague Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord William Herbert Earl of Pembroke. But Nevil soon after gave up this title to the King again that he might restore it to Northumberland, who had his pardon, and in recompense he had the title of a marquis. Henry together with his Wife and Son was now in Scotland, where all men, his conditions considered thought any fortune indifferent for him, as his humour differing from the humour of other men, made them believe a Kingdom and Cottage to be all one to him: But we may easily err in our judgements, not so much that we are altogether blind, as by reason of the falsehood of the objects which we propound unto ourselves; the which presumed to be permanent, do vary either because of the alterations of the humours of the body, or by reason of the change of opinion, proceeding from the inconstancy of imagination, which together with the diversity of time doth diversify the thought of our affairs. King Henry, were it either that his understanding was troubled, or that he was impatient to live in this condition, or that he hoped by his presence to put life into his affairs, (which required another manner of man to work such a miracle) or that his Wife persuaded him thereunto, went himself alone into England in disguise. I rather believe his Wife was the cause thereof, for that if it had sprung totally from him, she would not have suffered him to have put it in execution, knowing how little was to be expected from his dexterity. This resolution, though it were rash, and not to be done but by men of singular judgement and valour, was hazardous enough: Desperate affairs require desperate resolutions. The good King had no sooner set foot into England, but he was known, taken, and with his legs tied underneath his horse's belly, sent to London, and met by the Earl of Warwick, not out of any respect, but that he might the more safely be brought to the Tower, where he was shut up, and a good guard set upon him. The Queen hearing of this misfortune, all her hopes being frustrated, went with her Son into France, the Duke of Somerset together with his brother john went into Flanders, where they lived miserably, till being long after known by Charles Duke of Burgundy, whose Father Philip died not till the year 1467, they had a small pension whereon to live conferred on them by him. Charles was descended from the King of Portugal Son to Philippe, sister to Henry the IIIl. and therefore very affectionate to the house of Lancaster. Philip Commines writes, that he hath seen a Duke following this Prince's Court, bare foot and bare legged, begging from door to door, not being known by any man, that he was the nighest a kin of the house of Lancaster, and Husband to a Sister of Edward the Fourth; that being at last known, he had a small pension for livelihood given him by Charles; That the Duke of Somerset and divers others were there likewise. But he is deceived in his name; he in the margin calls him the Duke of Chester, whereas there was never any such Duke, the County of Chester belonging properly to the Princes of Wales since, the time of Edward the black Prince to this very day. The beggar Duke, who had to wife the sister of Edward the Fourth, was Henry Holland Duke of Exeter, who escaped in those parts, and chose rather to beg his bread from door to door, than to be known for fear of danger. Amongst so many unfortunate men, none did better outlive their calamities than did the Earl of Pembroke, Brother by the Mother's side to Henry, for though he went a long time wand'ring up and down, full of fears and dangers, yet he outlived his enemies, he saw the extirpation of the house of York, and that of Lancaster reestablished in the person of Henry the Seventh his Nephew, and died peacefully in the eleventh year of his Reign, Earl of Pembroke and Duke of Bedford. Henry's imprisonment, his Wives and Sons being in France, the flight and banishment of the chiefest of that faction did secure Edward and quieted the Kingdom for a while. This calm afforded him occasion of reforming such disorders as by reason of civil dissension were sprung up in Courts of Justice, in his Revenues, in moneys, and foreign correspondences: and to show his liberality and gratitude to those who had served him, by distributing the confiscated goods which were very many, as many they were who had merited reward, wherein he dealt so fully, as there was not any one unsatisfied. By his affability he afterwards won the hearts of all men, but with some observation of excess; for virtues when they part from their centre do usually insensibly pass from one denomination to another; for if affability become familiarity, it loseth its name; not that familiarity accompanied with decency doth not become a Prince, for if he desire to recreate himself, no recreation can be had without some kind of domestiquenesse; but that it is sometimes to be used, not always; and therein choice always to be made of the best, most virtuously given, and those of the noblest sort, for they being in next relation of greatness to the Prince, they free him of indifferency, which would make him be despised by all men. Affability which is commendable consists in giving free access to such as demand Justice, in listening to good counsel, and in looking upon the people with a gracious eye; all which may be done without that excess which was observed in Edward. To his affability he added clemency, which did not slip like the other out of its natural precincts; for it being a difficult matter to pardon one's enemies, he pardoned all those who in what manner soever had formerly opposed his greatness, so as they would forsake further adhering to such as did yet persist in their averseness to him. The part of a wise man, for by this means he got the hearts of those who were opposite unto him before; and he afterwards found the good thereof, when losing his Kingdom, as he did, he never had recovered it, had he not thus won upon the people's affections, which is the Prince his chiefest safeguard. Public affairs being thus accommodated, he descended to what more particularly concerned himself; which are not notwithstanding to be separated from what concerns the State. Marriage from whence proceeds lawful successors, is the strength as well of Kingdoms as of private families. Three marriages were propounded to him. The first, Marguerit sister to james the third King of Scotland, whose advantages were the breach of the marriage with Edward son to Henry, and thereby the undoing the chiefest hopes of the house of Lancaster. That upon any new occasion of civil broils, he should either have Scotland side with him, or remain neuter. He should thereby free himself from the daily troubles nourished by the obstinate enmity of so hardy and warlike a neighbour. But understanding that she was of a sickly body, and consequently not likely to bear children, he would none of her. The second was Isabella sister to Henry the fourth King of Castille, his hopes by her were the succession of that Kingdom, and by the assistance thereof the recovery of Gascony; in like manner as by the assistance of Gascony, given by Edward the black Prince, King Peter father to the great grandmother of this King Edward, recovered Castille. The English writers say, that her being too young, as not being then above six or seven years old, was the cause why that match was no further proceeded in. But I find that she being married to Ferdinand, and dying Queen of Castille, not when she was three and fifty years old, and in the year 1506. as Edward Hall doth calculate it, but in the fiftieth year of her age, and in the year 1504 she must be in the year 1464. (which was the time when this marriage was treated of) thirteen years old; so but ten years younger than Edward, so as their years were not unproportionate. Hall's calculation is grounded upon the stories of Spain, which he does not particularise in; and upon an Epitaph engraven upon this Queen's tomb in Granado, which he never saw. Mine upon the Spanish story written by Lewis Myerne Turquet, my father in law, a most exact writer, and by the Jesuit john Mariana, who saith she was borne the 24. of May in the year 1451. So as some other cause made him not choose her. The third was Bona, daughter to Lodowicke's Duke of Savoy and sister to Charlotte Queen of France, with whom she at the present was. This was embraced, the Earl of Warwick was sent to Lewis the eleventh to demand her of him, neither could Edward put on a better resolution. For his affairs in England being settled by Henry's imprisonment, no fear was to be had of Scotland, without aid and provocation from France, which was not better to be eschewed by any means than this; for though Charlotte bore not such sway with her husband as to govern him as she listed, yet held she very good correspondency with him. And Lewis (whose only ends were to lessen the power of the Princes and great Lords of France, particularly that of his brother Charles, and the two Dukes of Britain and Burgundy) laid willingly hold upon this occasion to acquit himself of the impornity of Margarite Queen of England, who endeavoured to persuade him to a dangerous and fruitless war, and which was averse to his genius and designs by withdrawing him from the other, to the which reason and his own inclination bore him. Moreover the Duke of Savoy having been an ancient confederate and near ally to the Duke of Burgundy, this would be a means to mar their intelligence, for though he were his father in Law, such ties amongst Princes, unless they be knitted with new knots, are subject to be loosed and broken by every days occasioned interest. For these reasons this match was agreed upon between King Lewis and the Earl of Warwick; and Monsieur de Dammartin was sent into England to strike it up with Edward. But whilst Warwick thought he had successfully executed his Master's commands, he unexpectedly heard that he was married. Edward was gone a hunting progress towards Grafton, a house belonging to jacoline of Luxenburg, sister to the Count St. Paul, wife to the Lord Rivers, and widow to the Duke of Bedford, who died Regent in France. With her was a daughter of hers named Elizabeth, widow to Sir john Grace, who was slain in the second battle at St. Alban siding with Henry; so as having lost a part of her Jointure by the confiscation of her husband's goods, she desired him to confer it again upon her. She was a woman of no extraordinary beauty, but of such conditions, as surpassing what was in her of beauty, made her to be valued and beloved by all men. The King did not only grant her what she desired, but growing in love with her, became her petitioner for wanton dalliance, which she resolutely denied to yield unto. His appetite increasing by meeting with an obstacle, he resolved to marry her, taking therein advice of those who never counsel Princes contrary to their inclinations. York's Widow the King's mother foreseeing the evils that were to ensue, admonished him. She bid him beware of the injury he did his cousin the Earl of Warwick (the Duchess was sister to Warwick's Father) whose spirit would not endure such an affront, since the King of France would not believe that he was come to treat of a match, but to cousin him, laugh at him, and pry into his state; nor was it likely he could think otherwise, since that he having got the Crown by the Earl's valour and the pursuit of his friends, it was not likely that being so near a kin unto him, and a man of so great an esteem, he should offend him by doing so misbecoming a thing without his knowledge. She showed him how that the marriage of Princes had for their ends the good of their State, the alliance of such as could or do them good or harm, and portion proportionable to the charge of a wife, and their own reputations. That none of all these were met withal in this which was now treated of; rather in laying a foundation for a peace, he should offend a great King, and expose himself to so unjust a war (the cause whereof being blame-worthy) as he should not therein find any friends or confederates. That yet if she were a maid, it might admit of some excuse; but being a mother of children, a subject, and without portion, these were conditions likely to produce, instead of benefit, hatred and enmity abroad, hatred and enmity at home, danger and blame every where. Edward's answer was, that he doubted not but that his cousin would conform his will to his; that he was sure enough of his love; that the King of France was not in a condition to hurt him, having other thoughts which did more nearly concern him; that nothing could be more acceptable to subjects than to take a wife from amongst them, since children must issue from the same blood; that for portion he valued it not, having more than he knew what to do withal; that for all other inconveniences, contentment in a wife, with whom one was to live and die, did outweigh them all. His mother finding her persuasions to be of no force, bethought herself of another means, which proved alike vain. The King upon promise of marriage had wrought to his desire a Lady of great birth, named Elizabeth Lucy; She alleged, that since before God this Lady was his legitimate wife, he could not marry any other. An impediment which delayed his satisfaction in the other, for the Bishops required proof thereof. But the Lady Lucy examined upon oath, in opposition to the instigation of the Duchess and her own honour and interest did depose; that the King did never pass unto her any direct promise; but that he had said such things unto her, as had she not thought them thereunto equivalent, she had never condescended to his will; Upon this deposition the King did privately marry the other, the marriage being afterwards published by her Coronation. None were pleased herewithal, the Nobility less than the Communality: their greatness being obscured by the sudden splendour of the Queen's kindred. Her father was created Earl Rivers, and shortly after made Lord High-constable of England. Her brother Anthony was enriched by the marriage of the daughter and heir of the Lord Scales, which Title was likewise conferred upon him. Her son Thomas Grace, which she had by her former husband did afterwards marry the daughter of William Bonneville, Lord Harrington, and was created Marquis Dorser. Historians observe many mischiefs that ensued from this marriage, besides the death of so many that was caused thereby. Edward did thereby lose his Kingdom; his children were declared to be bastards, and strangled; the Queen's house extirpated; the Earl of Warwick and his brother slain. But they name not the death of King Henry and his son, which had not happened had not the Earl of Warwick for this cause taken up Arms. King Lewis though thus abused, did not suffer himself to be transported by passion, but making use of his natural dissembling, expected a time for revenge. And to pacify the two sisters, he not long after married Bona to Galiazzo Maria Sforza Duke of Milan, son to Francis; but not with so good success as Hall reports; for her husband being slain, she within a few years became a widow, and by her ill government afforded occasion to his cousin Lodowick Sforza to take from her the government, and the government, life, and Dukedom from her son john Galeazzo. The Earl of Warwick this mean while wounded in his reputation, parted from France more sensible thereof than he made show for; he could not though so far cloak his anger, but that Lewis was aware of it. Being returned to England, he so behaved himself with the King, as that he seemed not to be at all distasted, whilst this present injury did call to mind many other formerly received, which would not though have hurried him to his ruin, had it not been for this. He saw how the King did apprehend his greatness, and grew jealous thereof; that his design was to suppress him, when himself should be better established; that he thought not himself King, whilst men thought him as necessary to the conservation of the State, as he was to the obtaining thereof. That the services he had done him were of such a nature as to shun the tie of obligation, ingrateful people do oft times desire to rid themselves of the obliger; That the state of business was such as would not suffer him to be debarred the communication thereof, though Edward thought he did thereby communicate unto him his government, and made him Colleague of his Kingdom; That he had sought after all occasions to bereave him of men's good opinion. All which made him believe that he was sent into France to this purpose. To this may be added (and which boiled in him more than all the rest) that Edward would have dishonoured his house by tempting the honesty of, I know not whether, his daughter or his niece; wherein though he did not succeed, the offering at it ceaseth not to be mischievous and wicked, as a thing whereby he endeavoured to dishonour the family of his kinsman, servant, and benefactor. All these things put together, begat in him such an hatred, as he resolved to depose him, and reinthrone Henry, as soon as a fit occasion should present itself. And though he retired himself to Warwick, under a pretence of an indisposition of health; yet did the King spy his discontents, though not so much as it behoved him to have done: for he thought him not so sufficient to depose him, as he was to raise him up; and that out of two reasons: First, that Princes do seldom mistrust their own power, especially with their subjects; secondly, for that they do believe the injuries they do are written in Brass by those who receive them, whilst they who do them, write them in Sand. The Queen was this year delivered of a daughter, named Elizabeth, who put a period to the Civil wars, by marrying with Henry the VII. Edward did this mean while peaceably possess his Kingdom, his enemies were all or slain, undone, or frighted. He had 1466. none to fear save France, and her but a little; for Lewis was more inclined to wage war at home than abroad. He forbore not though to join friendship with john King of Arragon, who upon occasion might by way of diversion assist him in Languedocke, a good, though deceitful foresight: for it often happens that many years are spent in the cultivating of a friendship, which proveth faulty in the harvest. Yet wisdom it is to manure such as put us not to too great charge, for the opinion of having friends weighs with our enemies. This friendship occasioned the transportation of a great many sheep into Spain, whereby England was as much impoverished as Spain was enriched. He likewise, for the same respect, concluded a Truce with Scotland for 15 years. But the friendship of the Duke of Burgundy was that which most availed him, and which reestablished him in his Kingdom when he had lost it. Philip the Duke of Burgundy did yet live, and his son Count Caralois, who by two wives had one only daughter, (afterwards the sole heir of all those Territories) the Duke was minded to marry him the third time, hoping to secure the succession by issue male. He bethought himself of Margaret sister to Edward, a Princess of great beauty, and endued with a spirit not usual to her sex; but her being of the house of York made him stagger in his resolutions: For that the Queen of Portugal his wife's mother was a daughter of the house of Lancaster, by reason whereof her son Charles did love that house and hate the other. But since he could make no alliance of more jealousy to France, nor of more commodity to the Low-countrieses, he sent Anthony the eldest of his natural sons, commonly called the Bastard of Burgundy, with some others, Ambassador into England to this effect. He came with a retinue of 400. horse, with rich Liveries and richer furniture. He was graciously received by the King. The business being propounded in Council, none with stood it but the Earl of Warwick. For framing the Rebellion which he had formerly plotted with himself, he conceived this match would be harmful to Lewis, on whom he intended to rely, and good for Edward, whom he intended to destroy. But he having but one vote the Ambassador's request was granted, and Edward promised friendship to the friends of Burgundy, and enmity to his enemies; He presented his sister to the Bastard, and other Ambassadors, who kissed her hand, as their Princess, and presented her with very rich Jewels, which she accepted of with terms of gratitude both to her father in law; and husband. Great were the entertainments that were made. Challenges at Tilt passed between the Bastard and the Lord Scales the Queen's brother, and between his followers and the English Gentry, the which I pass by, as not requisite to our story. In midst of these revel came the news of philip death, which much grieved the Bastard, so as taking leave of the King, and of the new Duchess of Burgundy, and being richly presented, he passed over into Brabant, and made such a relation to the Duke his brother, of his Bride, as did very well satisfy him. Who as soon as he had appeased the Legeois (wherein he spent some time) he desired Edward to send her over unto him, according to the Articles of the Contract; which he forthwith did. She took shipping at Dover being attended on by 500 horse, and accompanied by the two sisters Arm Duchess of Exeter, and Elizabeth Duchess of Suffolk. She landed at Slewes, and went from thence to Bourges, where the marriage was celebrated. The Earl of Warwick could not at length so well dissemble his distastes, as that the King did not perceive them. But Princes are not wont to give satisfaction to their inferiors, especially to their subjects, lest they might tacitly confess those faults, into which as being exempt they pretend they cannot fall; or else show some sort of humiliation repugnant to their greatness. This increased the Earl's indignation, for surposed ignorance admits of excuse, which confessed knowledge doth not; so as thinking himself injured before, contrary to all reason, and his injury being now doubled by the no account that was made of it, he resolved forthwith to do what he along time before had thought upon. And so dangerous resolutions not being to be undertaken without assistance: he judged the assistance of his own brother's fittest, the Archbishop of York, and the marquis. When he had begun his discourse, and laid open the reasons which moved him thereunto, he made an odious Parallel between Henry and Edward, magnifying the gratitude and goodness of the former, the ingratitude and wickedness of the other. He showed how that their house had been the forwardest to spend their lives and livelihoods in the service of the Duke of York the father, and of Edward himself, to make him King, who had not recompensed them according to their high deserts, and yet durst upbraid them with having been the raiser of their house, whilst next under God they ought their chiefest honour to Henry; that not contented thus to vilify them, he had endeavoured to dishonour their family, and render it infamous by attempting to vitiate a daughter thereof. He exaggerated the affront about the match with the Lady Bona, which would not have been offered to the most contemptible man in the world; Moreover that he had no ways excused it unto him, but passed it over in silence, not weighing that a man's honour ought to be more dear unto him than the apple of his eye, or life itself. Yet that he did not wonder at all this, for that Edward judging other men by himself, he thought other men should make as small account of their honour, as he had always done of his promises. That his resolution was to do what possibly he could to take from him that Crown which he had placed on his head, and place it again upon Henry, a good and lawful King. That since they did partake with him in the injuries, they ought likewise share with him in the revenge; which would easily be effected if they would cheerfully and heartily betake themselves unto it, as they ought, and as the chiefest of the Kingdom would do: And that he did assure himself they should not want assistance from Princes beyond the Seas, necessity requiring it. This proposition as it was unexpected, so was it not at the first accepted of by the brothers. But the Archbishop after long disputes giving way thereunto, the marquis, though with much difficulty, suffered himself at last to be persuaded likewise, moved by the tie of blood, not any inclination of his own, for he loved Edward, and was beloved by him. This ambiguity was the ruin of them all; for he not able to deny his brothers, nor yet to betray his Prince, did amiss on both sides. He assisted Edward, by not cordially assisting his brother, and he betrayed his brother, by not heartily betaking himself to betray Edward. Warwick having laid this first groud-worke of his ruinous building, he pursued the fabric thereof with the Duke of Clarence, for seeing him no ways pleased he resolved to try him. He seemed to be sensible of the coolness used by the King of late to the Duke, and expected what he would reply. But he like a Cornet which with the first breath sends the sound abroad, answered, It was in vain to complain of things ancient and desperate. That the King was in his own nature disobliging and ungrateful, and most to such as he was most obliged unto. That since he made no account of his own brothers, much less would he do it of other friends. That he more valued his wife's blood than his own. That he had disposed of three rich heirs by marrying them to her son, her brother, and the Lord Hastings, Mushrooms sprung up in one night, not having any consideration of his own brethren. Continuing in such like angry and threatening discourse, he gave the Earl occasion to lay himself open unto him, who offered unto him his daughter, with equivalent portion to those that he had named, with numberless other promises and hopes. The Duke was so blinded with his anger as he minded not the injury he did unto himself; that favouring the house of Lancaster (the thing now in question) he destroyed his own. When it was more available to him to have his brother King, than all the good could derive to him from this his ill taken advice. The Earl more blind than he did not consider the interest of brotherhood and blood, which being of no force then, would much prevail when his passion should be over; since that he could not pretend to any honour which would not come short of the condition now he was in, the which, this resolution once taken, he was for ever to lose. Great therefore was the Earl's folly to ground a business of such importance upon two so wavering foundatious, as upon his own brother forced thereunto, and his brother, whose destruction was desired, since he must needs repent himself at last. The order they took was to retire themselves to Calleiss. That the marquis and Archbishop should underhand procure some insurrection in the Northern parts of the Kingdom, and so give the occasion of the war, whilst they being on the other side the Sea, might not be thought Authors of it. Being thus gone to Calleis, and having vowed by the holy Sacrament to all things agreed upon between them, the Duke upon the aforesaid promises and hopes, married the Earl's daughter. The two brothers being gone to York, whereof the one was precedent, the other Archbishop, failed not to put in execution what was agreed upon. There was in that City an Hospital dedicated to St. Leonard, where by an ancient institution the poor were fed, and the diseased healed. So as there was no owner of ground in all that shire, who moved by so good a work did not in the time of harvest give some proportion of Corn thereunto; the which at first was voluntary, but in the process of time custom made it be thought a due debt, and Collectors were chosen for the gathering of it in, who were opposed by none. Now to give a rise to the intended insurrection, and make way for their impiety, they thought no means better to effect it, than by the way of piety, which when disguised, maids things appear otherwise then they are. They made a speech be spread abroad that the Hospital having sufficient revenues of its own, had no need of the contribution of Corn, since the poor were not the better, and that the Provost and Priests grew only rich thereby, so as it was a folly to continue the contribution. It was no hard matter to persuade the people hereunto, since no argument is of greater force, than self-interest. This news passing from one mouth to another, the people did not only deny the wont contribution, but wounded some of the Collectors, who were forwardest in the gathering of it in. Many being herewithal aggrieved, about some 15000 men gathered themselves together, and went towards York. The Inhabitants of that City were surprised at this news, not knowing whether they should keep within the Town and defend their Walls, or sally forth and give them battle. The marquis eased them of this trouble, for having made a select choice of not many, but good men, he encountered them and overcame them, killing many of them, and taking many of them prisoners; amongst which Robert Huldurne their leader, whose head he caused to be struck off. Some were of opinion that having been himself the cause of this insurrection, he had done this service the better to deceive the King, to the end that not being thought confederate with his brother, he might the easilyer work him mischief. But this and other accidents that happened make others think otherwise, for if such had been his intention, he could not have wished for a better occasion; for he might have joined with those Rebels, have ruined the King, and advantaged his Brother; and he himself being the author thereof, as he was believed to be, either he ought not to have occasioned it, if he had desired to serve the King, or else not have broken it, had he desired to assist his Brother. I for my part believe that repenting himself of the first action, he made amends by the second. But if he were faithful to his Prince, he was a Traitor to his own blood; not that loyalty to a Sovereign ought not to be preferred before all other respects, but his brother doing ill, he should not have confirmed him therein by treacherously complying with him, he should have dissuaded, not betrayed him. And he having governed himself from the beginning of this enterprise very uncertainely, makes me believe him to be, if not treacherous, (which I am induced not to think since he suffered for it) yet irresolute in his undertake either for the one or the other side. The Rebels were not disheartened for all this, but growing thereby more incenthey took for their Leader the Son and Heir of the Lord Fitshue, and Henry Nevil, Son and Heir likewise of the Lord Latimer, both of them young men, but chosen (under the direction of john Conniers, one of the most valiant Gentlemen of all those parts) for that the one of them was Nephew, the other cousin to the Earl of Warwick. They would have gone again towards York, but wanting Artillery, they marched towards London, with resolution to do what they were able, to make Edward be deposed, as being no lawful Prince, and of prejudice to the Commonwealth. Edward was not ignorant of all the Plots, but judging that if the Rebels should come near London, it would redound much to his dishonour, he writ to William Herbert Earl of Pembroke, willing him to gather together all the Forces he could, and not to suffer them pass further on. The Earl obeyed, not more out of gratitude for the honour he had received, than out of his desire to do some action of merit, and most of all, for that hating Warwick (who had hindered his Son from marrying with a rich Heir) he coveted revenge: so as taking with him his Brother Sir Richard Herbert, a very valiant Gentleman, and assembled together some six or seven thousand Welshmen well armed, he went to meet them, and was met by the way by the L. Humphrey Stafford, who led along with him 800 Bowmen. But not knowing what way the Rebels took, he went sometimes one way, sometimes another, till being advertised that they came by Northampten, he took that way, and being desirous to know their Number, and their Order, Sir Richard Herbert offered to make the discovery. He together with 2000 good Welsh Horse took shelter by a Woods side, by the which they were to pass. They were already past by him, when he desirous to return with his relation to his brother, his men would by all means fight with them, neither could he withhold them from furiously assaulting the rearward, which marching in good Order, as if they had expected to be set upon, turned faces about, and fight valiantly slew many of them, and took many prisoners, and made the rest retreat, too late sorry that they had not obeyed their Leader. The King was not any whit dismayed at this news, but encouraging the Earl, commanded him to find them entertainment till he should send more Forces to him, or come himself in person. The adversaries though somewhat proud of this good success, did not become more insolent. But considering that they were likely to meet with many such bicker before they should come to London, and not likely to hold out against them all, their numbers not being answerable to the way they were to go, they turned towards Warwick, intending to expect the coming of the Earl thereof, who being come from Calleis, did together with his Son in Law, raise people in all parts. But before either the King or Warwick got thither, fortune brought the two Armies face to face, within three miles of Bambery, in a certain place, where were three hills. In two whereof the two Armies were encamped, the third left to the success of fortune, not assayed by the Welsh, because they could not without much hazard make themselves masters thereof, though they had a great mind so to do. The Earl of Pembroke and the Lord Stafford were lodged in Bambery; where to shun disputes which upon the like occasion might arise, they agreed each of them to take such lodging as they first should light upon. The Baron being lodged to his liking, the Earl (forgetting his agreement and using his authority) would, I know not why, have him change lodging, the which he unwillingly did, because so doing he was to quit the company of a Gentlewoman whom he found lodged there. And having no other means to show his resentment at the present, he together with all his people left the Town, leaving the Earl without any Bowmen, who by their shooting were likely to be the best advantage of the Battle. The Earl was not herewithal dismayed, but going to the Camp, took any resolution rather than to retire. It was just the day after St. james his day, when Sir Henry Nevil, Son to the L. Latimer, thinking he had been too long idle went forth to skirmish early in the morning, being followed by a company of light horse. But delighting more therein than he had reason, he so far advanced himself, as not knowing how to retire, he was taken, and soon after put to death upon cool blood. His youth, nobility, and valour (the chiefest of all endowments) not being sufficient to save him. This act of cruelty incensed the Northern people, who resolving to revenge his death, let fly their darts at the hill where the Welshmen lay, whereby enforcing them to come down into the plain, where the battle began. It was not sufficient for the E. of Pembroke, who fought upon disadvantage, to execute the part of a Commander, it behoved him to play the part of a soldier; whilst his brother Sr. Rich. Herbert, minding nothing but the battle, did so behave himself as the true story of his valour is not to be exceeded by any fabulous Romanza; for making way through the enemy's troops, with his sword in his hand, he passed twice through the whole length of their army, returning to his own men, if not untouched, yet without any mortal wound. The which (as I believe) was occasioned for that his worth admired by those that saw it, did by joining delight with danger, and wonder with delight, withhold the hands of all men from injuring him. The battle did almost totally lean to his side, when john Clapham, a Servant of the E. of Warwick's (who had gathered together 500 of the poorest & basest sort of people about Northampton) appeared upon the top of one of those hills with a white Bear in his Ensign, crying out, a Warwick, a Warwick, the which did so much frighten the Welsh, as believing Warwick to be there with all his forces, they began to fly, Sir Richard's valour not being sufficient to detain them. In this flight (the prisoners not numbered) 5000 men were slain. The Earl of Pembroke, his brother Sir Richard, and many other Gentlemen were taken prisoners, and without any trial at Law beheaded at Bambery. The Earl who was appointed first to suffer, addressing himself to Conniers and Clapham, entreated them in the behalf of his brother; he objected unto them his youth and comeliness of stature answerable to his Martial mind; that his valour, even by themselves admired, might one day be serviceable to his Country. But Sir Henry Nevil's death had so exasperated them, as that it occasioned his death, the death of his brother, and of many others. A lamentable Tragedy presented by so worthy men. So as it is no wonder if virtue be hated, since it is not useful, but rather harmful to the owners thereof. Sir Edward Herbert Baron of Cherbery doth at this time live, descended from them, a Gentleman, who hath given such proof of his valour, as well in his own private occasions in England, as in the wars in the Low-Countries, as he may justly be said to sympathise with the said Sir Richard; but in scholarship he hath the advantage of adding that glory to his Ancestors by his famous Philosophical composures, which in the like kind he hath not received from them. Their cruelties did not here cease; for those of Northampton having chosen unto themselves one Robert of Risdale for their Captain, and joined certain others unto him, they surprised the Earl Rivers, father to the Queen, and his son john, in his mansion-house of Grafton, brought them to Northampton, and without more ado beheaded them. The Lord Stafford was generally accused for the loss of this battle, who for so slight a cause, and upon so urgent an occasion forsook the King's service, to revenge himself upon the Earl of Pembroke. And to say the truth this misfortune had not happened, at least not with the death of so many and so worthy men, had he been there. Edward therefore sent forth Commissions to the Sheriffs of Devonshire and Somersetshire to seek him out, find him, and upon pain of their lives to put him to death. They were not wanting in diligence, they found him where he thought he had been sufficiently concealed, and executed their command. The victors this mean while had retired themselves to Warwick, whither the Earl thereof was come with a great body of armed men. And understanding that the King was marching towards him, he advertised the Duke of Clarence, who forthwith joined with him, bringing along a great number of armed men. They were likely presently to have come to blows according to the custom of England, had not some great personages desirous of peace, and of the good of the Weal public interposed to find some way of accommodation. This negotiation made Edward so careless, as that confidently believing in peace, he neglected all duties of Military discipline; whilst Warwick more wary than he, being by his spies certified of the Guards negligence, and the heedlessness of all the rest, who behaved themselves as if no enemy had been, set upon the King by night, and without any resistance took him prisoner. A blow likely to end the difference without bloodshed. He first put him in the Castle of Warwick; from thence (that no man might know what was become of him) he sent him to Medlam a Castle in Yorkshire, then in the custody of the Archbishop his brother. But as through negligence he fell into this condition, so by good fortune he freed himself thereout, making use of his wont affability, whereby he made the Archbishop treat him like a King, not a prisoner, allowing him not only the liberty of the Castle, but the freedom to hunt, setting but a small guard upon him, who either could not, or would not keep him. For Edward having sent to Sir William Stanley, and Sir Thomas Borrows his trusty friends; that they should come with a band of good men to rescue him, they did so, and meeting him whilst he was hunting, they rescued him, not being at all withstood by his guardians: either for that they were too weak, or (as it is more likely) for that they were corrupted. I know not whether the Archbishop were hereof guilty or no (being alured by promises) but if he were, he very much failed his brother's trust; and if he were not, his folly was too great. He first retired to York; but not able there to raise Troops sufficient to bring him in safety to London (the way being long and dangerous) he stayed there only two days, and from thence went towards Lancaster, where he was met by the Lord Hastings his Chamberlain, by whose means he got so many men together as brought him safely to London. This accident wounded the Duke of Clarence, and the Earl of Warwick to the quick, falling thereby from those hopes which having the enemy in their hands they did not vainly frame unto themselves; and being now (were it either out of negligence or treachery) sound derided, since in stead of having ended the war, they were now to begin it afresh, with the hazard of their lives, goods, and honours. The greatest part of those that followed them were already returned to their own homes. The rest thought there had been no more need of Arms; that they should again in peace and liberty see London, and Henry reestablished. That all slaughter and shedding of blood had been ended in the last battle. That Countries, Cities, and Churches robbed of their ornaments should return to their former lustre: All which were only humane imaginations, contraried by divine providence. Fortune, and the Stars were always contrary to the miserable unfortunate Henry. His contagious malady was an Abyss which together with him swallowed up as many as sided with him. Many notwithstanding, to shun relapsing into the former calamities, mediated for peace. And because they thought to treat of it by third parties would be a way about the bush, they agreed upon a parley between the parties themselves at London, Edward by his word securing Warwick and his associates, though in businesses of the like nature, he was observed sometimes to be faulty. Clarence and Warwick being come to London, parleyed with the King at Westminster, where in stead of giving satisfaction, they fell mutually to upbraid each other with benefits repaid by ingratitude, each pretending to be the obliging benefactor, the other the ungrateful repayer, so as they departed more envenomed than before. The two confederates raised an Army in Lincolnshire under the 1470 conduct of Sir Robert Welles, son to the Lord Welles, a Gentleman of a known valour. The King on the other side for all the ill success of the parley, thought that business would not so suddenly have broke forth. But finding the contrary, he assembled a powerful army: He commanded the Lord Welles, father to Sir Robert, to come unto him, not admitting any excuse either of age or sickness. Welles being by his friends advertised of the great danger he ran (the King being grievously offended with him by reason of his son) got, together with his cousin Sir Thomas Dimocke, who came to accompany him to London, into Sanctuary at Westminster. Edward thought he should much weaken the enemy's forces, if he could bereave them of young Welles their Commander, the which he might do by his father's means; whom he fetched out of Sanctuary upon promise of pardon. And causing him write unto his son, he marched toward Stafford where Robert was expected. But he not regarding his father's Letters, but rather preparing to meet the King as an enemy, did so incense the King, as not regarding his plighted faith, his promise of pardon, nor that the father was not bound to answer for the son's faults (who had neither put him upon this employment, nor persuaded him thereunto) he unjustly caused the old Lord to be beheaded, as likewise his cousin, though incomparably less faulty than the other. Wells though sorely provoked by his father's death would willingly have forborn coming to blows, for that the King's forces were by much the greater: but not believing he could defer fight till such time as Warwick should come up to him, fearing le●…t many of his Army might be wrought upon by the King's presence, his promise of pardon, and reward, he gave battle, which after a long and valiant bickering was by him unfortunately lost; himself, Sir Thomas Deland, and many others were taken prisoners, and all of them immediately executed. Those that were slain in this battle were 10000; And more would have been slain, had they not been disheartened by their Captains being taken, which made them fly. This was a deadly blow to Warwick. The few forces he yet had were hereby much weakened. It was difficult and tedious to raise more, since the enemy was at his back. His last refuge was to try the Lord Stanley, who was his brother in law, but receiving an answer contrary to his desires, he gave way to fortune, and together with the Duke of Clarence, their wives and families, he took shipping in Devonshire, making for Calleis, intending to land the women there, and pass further into France himself; he hoped there to find help, trusting in the ancient friendship of that King, since the original of his misfortunes sprung from the affront done to him in the marriage of his sister in law, the Lady Bona. He had left Monsieur de Vauclere, a Gascon, Knight of the Garter, his Lieutenant in Calleis, a wary man, as for the most part are all those of that Country. This man being advertised of the late proceedings, was not surprised, but had formerly bethought how to govern himself in so dangerous a business. The Duke of Burgundy had likewise been advertised by the King, who knew he hated Warwick next after Charles: The Earl drawing near Calleis, and expecting nothing less than to be denied entry, was driven back with shot of Cannon, and to shun sinking, was forced to lie aloof off at Sea. At which instant the Duchess of Clarence his daughter, was brought to bed of a son; who was the same Earl of Warwick who was afterwards put to death in the Tower of London by Henry the VII. Great was the Earl's confusion, not knowing whither to betake himself. His daughter's malady afflicted him more than ought else. He with much ado obtained that the child might be baptised within the Town, and got from thence two flagons of Wine to comfort the mother. Vauclere sent unto him, willing him to retire, else he should be enforced to treat him rudely. But by what ensued, I believe Philip Comines report to be true, that by secret message he had desired him not to wonder at what had happened; that all was done for his service; that if he should have suffered him to come in, he had been utterly lost, since England, Burgundy, the Town, and a great part of the garrison were his enemies. That his best course was to retire into France, not taking any further thought concerning that Fort; assuring him that in due time he would give a good account thereof. But by naming England to be his enemy, he only meant Edward, not the generality; for never was any man better beloved by the people, than was he; which was the only cause of Edward's aversion and fears; for the people's love doth usually raise jealousies in the Prince. Edward seeing him gone thought himself rid of a troublesome burden, which turned little to his advantage, for the continuance of his jealousies would have made him more cautelous than he was. The reasons why Burgundy hated him, were, because Warwick had ruined the house of Lancaster, to which he was most affectionate, his mother's mother being a branch thereof. That he was a friend to the King of France, a Prince by him infinitely hated; and the opposing of his marriage, for no other end, but that he thought he should thereby become too powerful for France. The inhabitants of Calleis opposed him, not for that they hated his person, but because the war would have broken their commerce with London; for the Company of Wollen-drapers kept a Storehouse in Calleis, from whence the Low-countries, and all Germany were furnished, to the great benefit of particular men, and the King did thereby receive a yearly toll of 50000 Crowns, Comines saith but 15000, and that it came all into the Earls coffers. As for the Garrison, it cannot be denied, but that the greatest part of them had dependence upon him: But Monsieur de Duras, a Gascon, and the King's Marshal being then there with a great many soldiers under his command, he would have run danger of being taken prisoner, if he should have entered the Town. Vauclere by his dissembling compassed his ends: for the news of this his unexpected behaviour coming to the Court of England; the King took the command of that Town from Warwick, and bestowed it on Vauclere. And the Duke of Burgundy to confirm him in this his charge, sent thanks unto him by Philip de Comines, and gave him a pension of 1000 Crowns a year. Notwithstanding all this Vauclere served and deceived them all, as the effects showed. He demeaned himself in this manner, not out of any loyalty to the King, or love he bore unto the Earl, but that he might have two strings to his Bow, and doubly secure his own interest. For had he been loyal to the King, he could not have given the Earl any hopes, nor have effected them, when he might do it without danger; and if he had loved the Earl, he would not have denied him entrance into the Town, it being the only place he could receive succour from. But he not knowing which of them would prevail, chose not to endanger himself, whilst being in good condition, he might betake himself to that side which should be most available for him. men's ends are commonly their own interests, for the which they think it lawful to abandon virtue, which always goes accompanied by some cross, which they abhor. The Earl of Warwick finding that now he had no hopes in Calleis, but what were future, sailed towards deep, as he was advised by Vauclere, and according to his first intention. By the way he took as many ships as he met withal belonging to Charles his subjects, gaining thereby great riches, which did furnish him at his present need, and forced Charles to send a great Fleet into those Seas, to revenge himself, either by taking him prisoner, or inhibiting his return for England. Being come to deep, and by command from Lewis, received with all manner of respect, he was by the said Lewas met at Amboise, where causing him to be provided with all things necessary, he promised him his best assistance, and caused a great many ships be rigged out for him, well provided with Soldiers and Mariners. And this he did the sooner for that Charles had threatened him if he should assist Warwick. Queen Margaret came to meet him as soon as she heard he was arrived, and with her the Earls of Pembroke and of Oxford, the last of which had lately escaped out of prison, and was fled from England. Lewis, to have the surer tie upon him, caused Prince Edward, the Queen's son, to marry with Anne the Earl of Warwick's second daughter. Warwick taking thereby to son in law the son of him whom he had formerly deposed, that he might now depose him that he had placed in his place. As soon as the marriage was concluded, Warwick and the Duke of Clarence took an oath never to put a period to the war, till such time as Henry, or in default of him his son Edward should recover the Kingdom. And Queen Margaret promised to make them two Governors of the Kingdom, till such time as her son should be of years. King Edward was daily advertised by Duke Charles what treaties were in hand to his prejudice, the Duke complaining that Edward should more mind his pleasures than his affairs. But it was in vain to object the fear of danger to a courageous Prince, a lover of pastimes; vain it was to persuade him to quit his sports, and plunge himself in troubles, since it was so unlikely that should befall him which did. He advised him to oppose the Earl at Sea, for that if he should set foot on Land, and have his partakers join with him, the danger and difficulty would be the greater. He on the other side desired he might land, believing that at his pleasure he might take him prisoner, or kill him before he could be succoured. He made diligent inquiry after such as he might suspect to be Warwick's friends; so as those that were known to wish him well were in an ill condition. Many of them took Sanctuary. marquis Montaigne brother to Warwick, obtained his pardon, and came over to the King's side. But the wisest resolution he could take was to send over a Gentlewoman into France, who under pretence of visiting the Duchess of Clarence, might work upon her husband. This woman being arrived at Calleis, made Vauclere believe that businesses were likely to be accommodated, and that the King had sent her over to this purpose. When she was come to Amboise, she so well performed the trust imposed in her, that having showed the Duke what danger he was in by taking part against his brother, she made it appear, that the house of Lancaster could never reign void of jealousies whilst any one of the house of York were left alive; That by endeavouring to ruin his brother he wrought his own overthrow, by quitting the right unto the Crown, to the which he was so nigh himself. For Edward, though he were young, had yet no son, and but one daughter, who might very well miscarry, and such were his disorders as there was little likelihood he should have any more. That being therefore to be presumed heir, he much injured himself, by giving the Crown away from himself to his enemies, who could never think themselves safe as long as he lived. These reasons and others which the discreet woman knew how to make use of prevailed so far with Clarence, as that he gave her his word to join with his brother as soon as he should be come into England. Which showeth of what little efficacy oaths and alliance are, when a powerful interest comes in place. Clarence for some sleight domestic distastes, failed his brother, even to the endangering the loss of his Kingdom: You shall see him fail his father in Law even to the making him lose his life. Whence we are taught, that in great affairs we ought only to trust such to whom profit and danger are univocal together with us. Many of the King of France his ships were making ready in Harfleur for the Earl of Warwick's service, and some of his own likewise, where he received sundry dispatches from many Lords of England. They desired him not to delay his return though he were to come all alone; for being looked for by so many that were desirous to spend their lives in his service, he needed no foreign forces, and that his delay might endanger his friends, and overthrow the enterprise. He acquainted the Queen and his companions herewithal, whose opinions were that he should forth with be gone with such ships as he should find in readiness; and that as soon as the Queen's ships should be in due equipage, (her father the King of Sicily had sent her as many as he could to this effect) she and her son would embark themselves upon the first news of any hopes of good success in England; so as having taken leave of the King, and thanked him for so many and so great favours, he went into the Fleet, whither by command from the King the Admiral of France and divers other ships were come, to guard him from Charles his Fleet, which lay expecting him in the mouth of the River Seine; and which was much greater than the Kings, Warwick's, and the Admirals, all joined together. Doubtless had not fortune played one of her wont tricks, the English had not returned to England, for the Burgonians were many, strong, and resolute, to do all that was possible to take the Earl. But the night before the Earl's departure, the Duke's ships were by a great tempest scattered, many of them were sunk; the rest driven into sundry places, not any two of them being found together. So as the Earl putting to Sea the next day with a fair wind (as if the tempest had risen, and were allayed, to do him service,) came to Anchor in Dartsmouth haven in Devonshire, the same place where six months before he took shipping for Calleis. Edward was at this time busied in sports and revel, not thinking on foreign affairs, relying upon Charles his mighty Fleet, which lay in wait to fight with him, and hinder his passage into England. When he heard he was landed, he passed from his first confidence to a second and worse: thinking he had him now in a noose. He advertised Charles, and desired him to take order he should not return again to France, and then he needed trouble himself no further, for that he was sufficient of himself to hinder all his designs within his Kingdom, and to chastise him. But Charles who was a wise and vigilant Prince, was not of this opinion: he would have had him to have hindered his landing, without the adventuring of his Person and Kingdom upon the uncertainty of battle, and the inconstancy of his people and fortune. The first thing Warwick did was to make Proclamations be made every where in Henry's name, that all men from sixteen to threescore year old, upon grievous punishment should come and present themselves armed before him, to serve Henry the lawful King, against Edward Duke of York, the unlawful usurper of the Kingdom. He was forthwith obeyed, great numbers of people flocked unto him, even those who the year before were wholly devoted to Edward's service. A change, though strange, yet not to be wondered at. Old things cause satiety, new businesses provoke fresh appetite. Edward being in this strait, resolved to do the same which the Earl had done. He summoned all the Peers of the Land, was obeyed but by a few, and by those more out of fear than out of any good will. He went to Nottingham accompanied by his brother the Duke of Gloucester; the Lord Scales the Queen's brother, and the Lord Hastings his Chamberlain, presuming there to raise an Army answerable to his need. The Rebels this mean while increased, and the Ministers in their Pulpits did approve of Henry's right. The bastard Faulconbridge and the Earl of Pembroke, the one in the West, the other in Wales did proclaim him King. That which most troubled Edward was, that marquis Montaigne having gathered together 6000. fight men, and brought them almost unto Nottingham, he returned back, either for that he thought Edward's affairs were now desperate, and that the ayreevery where resounding, Long live Henry, Long live Warwick, he thought it foolishness not to share of his brothers good fortune; or else for that he had now a just occasion to revenge himself of Edward's ingratitude (as he termed it) who for his service done unto him, and his blood shed for him in so many battles and dangers, had only requited him with the bare Title of marquis. He declared himself against him, and brought those 6000 along with him, proclaiming Henry King, as the others had done. I know not whether he had reason to accuse Edward of ingratitude or no. Voluptuous people who like him are given to their pleasures, are naturally prodigal in their own dissoluteness, and backward enough in paying what they owe. I am very certain his other brothers could not complain thereof, though Warwick injuriously did. The Archbishop of York wore the second Mitre of England; and the Earl of Warwick (if we may believe Comines) to boot with his own Revenues, which were very great, had 80000 Crowns a year coming in, in Lordships, Confiscations, and Places merely conferred upon him by the King's grace, which was much more in those days than 300000 would be now. But it is hateful and dangerous to Princes when pretensions grow to that height as there is no means of recompense, and that the only pretence of the pretenders, seeming to upbraid, doth tacitly demand, and seem to plead the participation of their Prince's dignity and estate. Edward knew not what to say to these alterations which hourly increased, and finding no place safe for him since he wanted forces, he went not without great danger to Linne, where he found two Holland ships, and one English; he embarked himself, and was waited upon by the three said ships, and seven hundred men, without any manner of baggage, or one penny of money. A great and unexpected misfortune, but that which immediately after presented itself was far worse, had he not luckily eschewed it. For had he been taken; he had none to ransom him, so would have lost both liberty and Kingdom. Eight of the Easterlings ships (the Easterlings were then great enemies to the English, and did them all the mischief they could) discovering these three Ships, and believing them to be English, gave them chase, but could not come up unto them till they had cast Anchor before Alchemar in Holland, the ebb being so low as they could not win the Haven: The Easterlings cast Anchor likewise, but a good way from them, the burden of their Ships not permitting them to do otherwise, so as they were enforced to expect the return of the tide to board them. But Monsieur de Gretures Governor under the Duke of Burgundy in Holland, being luckily at that time in Alchemar, and understanding of Edward's being there, by some whom he had sent of purpose unto him in flat bottomed Boats, forbade the Easterlings to use any manner of hostility and went himself to bring him and all his men into the City. Edward was at this time so bare of money, as not having wherewithal to pay for his wastage, he gave the Captain a rich vestment lined with Sables, promising not to forget the courtesy, and to satisfy him better afterwards. A strange change of Fortune happened in a few hours to such a Prince merely out of negligence and carelessness. He lost a Kingdom without one blow striking, and was forced to have recourse unto a Prince, whose only presence did upbraid unto him his carelessness, lust, and bad government. Charles hearing of this, was very much displeased, finding himself charged with so needful a King, and so great a retinue, whom he could not be wanting unto in assistance, not out of any humanity, or alliance, but for that Warwick enjoying the Kingdom, it behoved him to maintain the contrary party, and drive him out, or else to suffer the incommodities of a long War. Queen Elizabeth, the original of these alterations, seeing herself abandoned, without succour, and the enemy upon her back, took Sanctuary at Westminster, where with small attendance she was brought to bed of a Son, named Edward; he, who for some few weeks after his Father's death, was the V. King of that name; and who symbolised in birth, name and death with his cousin the Son of the Duchess of Clarence borne a Shipboard before Calleis. The pomp of Baptism had nothing in it of royal save the Mother's tears, accompanied by many men's commiseration, which is then greatest, when most concealed. Many of her best friends betook themselves likewise to sundry other Sanctuaries, who proved afterwards serviceable to her, at Edward's return. The Kentish-men prone to insurrections, seeing there was now no King; of two, the one being fled, the other a prisoner, came to London, and sacked the Suburbs, and it may be would have sacked the City itself, had not the Earl of Warwick diverted them, whose coming thither was noised, and who punished the Complices of the insurrection. This piece of Justice added to his reputation, and the people's love. Upon the 6 of Octob. he entered the Tower accompanied by many Lords: in particular his brother the Archbishop of York, the Prior of St. john's, the Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Shrewsbury; some of them drawn by affection, some by feare●… he set King Henry at liberty after nine years' captivity; he brought him to the Bishop of London's house, where he tarried till the thirteenth day, and then brought him in person and in royal attire to Paul's, carrying his train himself, and the Earl of Oxford the sword, accompanied with the people's acclamations, who cried out, God save the King▪ forgetting that a little before they had prayed for Edward against him. A Parliament was summoned, wherein Edward was declared a Taytour to his Country and an usurper of the Crown, his goods confiscate, all Statutes made in his name and by his authority annulled, the Crowns of England and France confirmed upon Henry, and the heirs male of his body, and for want of such upon the Duke of Clarence and his posterity, who hereafter was to be acknowledged the next heir to his Father Richard Duke of York: and Edward, for his faults committed, deprived of his birthright, and the prerogatives thereof. The Earls of Pembroke and Oxford were restored in blood and to their dignities and goods: The Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence declared Governors of the Kingdom; marquis Montague was received into grace, and his fault pardoned, since revolting against Edward he was the chief cause of his quitting the Kingdom: those who sided with him were deprived of their Honours, Titles, and Faculties; and such punished as in this quarrel had taken up Arms against Henry. Whereupon john Tiptoft Earl of Worcester Lord Deputy of Ireland for Edward was found in a hollow Tree, brought to London and beheaded in the Tower. The Parliament being ended, the Earl of Pembroke went into Wales, to take Order for such Lands as he possessed before his confiscation; and finding there Henry the Son of Edmond Earl of Richmond, with the Widow of William Earl of Pembroke his brother that was beheaded at Banbury, (who though held as a prisoner by this Lady, was always nobly entreated) he took him from her when he was not yet full ten years old and brought him to London, where he presented him to King Henry: who after he had eyed him a while said to the standers by; that this child should succeed him, and put a period to all the quarrels: which afterwards happening, confirmed the opinion that was held of his sanctity, since by the spirit of prophecy, he foresaw the succession of Henry the seventh. Queen Margaret, who was then in France being advertised by Letters from Henry, of the regainment of the Kingdom, did together with her Son forthwith put to Sea, but the winds being contrary drove her on Land, and kept her there a long time, and had they forever kept her there they had been the more favourable, for than she had not met with the mischief she did in the loss of her Son. When Warwick's return to England and King Henry's re-establishment was known at Calais every one took unto him the Earls Impressa: Vauclere was the first that did so: His Impressa was a ragged staff made of Gold, Silver, Silk, or Cloth according to his condition that wore it. As this unexpected inclination made the Duke of Burgundy more solicitous, so did it inwardly displease the Duke of Clarence, who had already altered his opinion. Neither did nature and common sense fail to suggest unto him what injury he was to suffer by the rule of the house of Lancaster, notwithstanding the seeming favourable proceedings of Parliament in his behalf, he cloaked therefore his sorrow and seemed to be glad at what did inwardly afflict him; he endeavoured to fit himself to the present times till fortune might afford some other occasion. When Warwick had thus taken order for things at home, he applied himself to foreign affairs: his first thoughts were to divert Duke Charles from assisting Edward, believing that whilst he was busyed with the Arms of France in Picardy and those of England in the confines about Calais, danger would enforce him to mind his own affairs and not trouble himself with what concerned other men; he sent 400 men to Calais, to make inroads into the parts about Boulogne, which were with all dutiful respect received by Vauclere: which freed him of all suspicion of being any way inclined to the contrary party. Before Edward landed in Holland, Charles was informed that he was dead, neither was he troubled at the news, moved by his ancient inclination to the house of Lancaster; and though Warwick's power did much molest him (not hoping ever to gain him) he hoped notwithstanding strongly to oppose him by means of the two Dukes of Somerset, and Exeter, who had been by him maintained in their miseries: but when he heard he was arrived in Holland, he was altogether amazed, for should he assist him, he should draw upon him Henry's enmity; neither could he deny him aid since his Wife was his Sister: Charles knew not that Calais was at Warwick's command; building much thereon he sent Comines to see what he could promise to himself therein; for Vauclere having denied entrance to Warwick, and accepted of a Pension from him, he had reason to believe him to depend upon him, the Duke, and not to be reconcileable with Warwick; but as soon as Comines was come to Calais, he found he had lost his labour; he was not received as formerly; all he met wore the Earl's colours; the gate of the house wherein he lay, and his own Chamber door were marked with the White-crosse; Songs were every where sung of the firm friendship and intelligence between Lewis and Warwick. Being by Vauclere invited to Dinner, he met there a great many Gentlemen, who talked neglectfully of Edward, and those most who had formerly seemed most to affect him; none but Vauclere himself spoke modestly of him. Comines, feigning the first report of Edward's death to be true said to them that 'twas now to no purpose to talk any more of him since he was dead; and that if he were yet alive the Duke of Burgundy had contracted no other friendship with him, then with whatsoever other King. That the Articles of contract mentioned only England, and the King thereof: that the friendship between England and Burgundy should still continue the same, the names of Edward and Henry only altered. Charles was not displeased with this agreement, though it was not as he could have desired: for underhand he could do what he listed whilst he was free from suspicion of being molested by England, which was that he most feared. The Wollen-drapers' of London wrought well for him in this business; for Warwick having taken 4000 men into pay to send against him, the Merchants for fear the War might overthrow their Traffic, did so behave themselves as they made him alter his resolution: which had it not happened, much mischief might have ensued to him; for this fell out just at the same time when Lewis had taken from him Amiens, and St. Quintines; so as his affairs were likely to have succeeded ill, he not being able to defend himself in two several parts, against two so potent enemies. Charles had not yet seen Edward; their first encounter was in the Town St. Paul, the persuasions the King used to him were; that he himself shared with him in his loss, since that he had not now to do with Henry of Lancaster, but with the Earl of Warwick, whose Friendship was never to be hoped for as long as Lewis his amity did prevail; that by assisting him he should not only assist a Brother in Law and one that would always be his friend, but he should do a work becoming a just and a great Prince, without exposing himself to a long and impossible business; since he had such intelligence, such friends, and servants within the Kingdom, as he needed only to show himself with some Convoy of Ships, armed with a few men, rather for reputation sake then any need. These persuasions were but coldly entertained by Charles; for the Dukes of Somerset and Exeter showed unto him what he owed to his Birth, he himself coming of the house of Lancaster, and promised him what he could desire against Warwick, to whom they were both irreconcilable enemies. Edward was not well pleased to be nourished with hopes, whilst Charles made him, believe that his dissembling was necessary for them both; for him, because he was not to fight with two Kingdoms at one and the same time: and for Edward, because opportunity might render his succour more useful. But Edward not satisfied with these put-offs, considering that his designs were the less likely to succeed well, by how much the more firmly Henry grew settled in his Kingdom, he caused four Ships to be made ready for him at Vere in Holland (which being a free Haven not denied to any one, the Ships might seem to be set forth by Edward himself) and hired 14 more for him of the Easterlings, bargaining that they should pass him over into England, and serve him fifteen days after he should be landed. He caused moreover 50000 Florines to be secretly delivered unto him, and that this aid might not seem to be given by him he made it be proclaimed, that whosoever should assist Edward should incur great punishment: hereby he freed himself from giving suspicion to England, and come what might come, remained friends to both sides. Edward had 2000 men with him besides Mariners, with which having landed at Ravenspur in Yorkshire, he sent forth some light horse to discover how the Inhabitants were inclined: and finding them wholly turned over to Henry's side, not so much as willing to hear him named, he changed his resolution: he gave out that he did not pretend to the Kingdom, (Fearing lest the troubles that might thereby arise, might alienate the people's hearts) but to his patrimonial estate of York under the obedience of Henry. It cannot be imagined what good effect this his crafty wisdom produced; for this his pretence being thought not only moderate but just, no man opposed him therein. Equity, orany thing which resembles it, is of so great efficacy amongst men, as that he, who, but a little before, was banished, declared a Traitor, and had his Lands confiscated, yet being so great a Prince by birth as he was, and having been King, it moved all men to compassionate him, and think him worthy of that favour which the rigour of Law had debarred him of; forgetting how much he had made Henry suffer. With this pretence he went to York, proclaiming Henry to be King in all parts, and styling himself only Duke of York. The Earl of Warwick hearing of his arrival, and of this his dissimulation wrote to his brother the marquis Montague (who stayed all that Winter with a great garrison of Soldiers at Pomfret) to fight with him before he should gather new forces, or at least that he should entertain him till such time as he himself should come thither, and that by no means he should suffer him to come into York; for by advancing his affairs there he would endanger theirs. He, in conformity to this, commanded all the Cities and Towns in those parts not to receive him, but to shut their gates upon him, and do him all the mischief, which according to the Laws of the Land ought to be done to a public enemy. But whilst the Earl was raising Soldiers and his Brother did not move, Edward put forward, and was met by two Aldermen near to York, who advised him to steer his course some other way, for that the City could not but oppose him, and do him all possible mischief. He having courteously heard them, answered: that he came not to fight against the King, nor any ways to molest him, acknowledging him to be his Sovereign Lord; but that he might be permitted to enter into the Duchy of York, his ancient patrimony, hoping that as there was none that could justly oppose him therein, so they least of any, being the natural subjects of his house, from whence they had at all times received all manner of grace and favour. The Aldermen returning with this answer and he after softly following them, in an instant the Citizen's minds were changed: those who were gotten upon the Walls to defend them against him as against an enemy, came down to be his guides and to keep him from being by any one injured; being come before the City, and met by many of the chiefest Citizens he made such use of his affability, calling the Aldermen your worships, as by the fairness of his language and his large promises he got them to yield to what ever he would. 'Twas agreed that he should be received into the City, if he would swear to two things; that he would treat them according to his proffered conditions; and be obedient and faithful to all Henry's commands. Upon these terms all parties retired themselves; the Citizens to York, and Edward with his people to the fields; expecting the nextday. These good people thought hereby to do good service to God, the King, and Kingdom: but the unwary do always harm when they think to help. To receive banished men, to restore goods, and to dispose of estates belongs not unto Subjects. The nextday Mass was said at the gate whereat he was to enter. He swore to the two Articles with such intention as the effects of his not observing them did afterwards declare. Wherein is to be observed Gods Long-suffering, and Justice: the one by his not immediately punishing him; the other extending itself not long after to his Family, which being deprived of the Kingdom, and that conferred upon his enemy, was utterly destroyed, to manifest unto us that the delay of punishment is not the abolishment thereof. These sacred ceremonies being ended, with divine attestation, he entered the City, and as soon as he had from thence received moneys (notwithstanding all his Articles) he made himself master of it, by placing therein a good garrison, and they too late perceived his breach of Faith: but it behoved them patiently to endure the yoke, which with their own hands they had put about their necks. He stayed there but a while; for having taken certain forces into pay, he resolved to go to London: A rash resolution; had he had any thing to lose: but being he possessed nothing and was either to regain his Kingdom, or lose his life (which was not to be valued since he had nothing to maintain it with) 'twas a noble resolution and altogether worthy of the greatness of his spirit. His nearest way lay by Pomfret, where marquis Montague lay: he shunned him, keeping on the other hand four miles above him; and the marquis came not forth, otherwise Edward and his few men had been but in bad condition. He suffered him to pass as if he had had no knowledge thereof. This was his second error, the first being, that he suffered him to get into York. Some notwithstanding were of opinion that he met him not, because he did not much trust his people, who hating Henry as the only Picture of a King unfit for government, and the cause of so many scandals, inclined to Edward, a King fit to defend himself and them. He thought not to meet with so good fortune, but meeting with it and making use of it, he put himself again into the roade-way, and marched on to Nottingham, where many Gentlemen with great troops of men came to meet him: here he was proclaimed King, contrary to the tenure of his first pretences and his Oath taken at York. People flocked to him every hour: he feared not to pass on to Leicester, that he might draw nigh to the enemy, who was then at Warwick under the command of the Earl thereof accompanied by the Earl of Oxford, he resolved either to give him battle, or else to find out some means to join with his Brother the Duke of Clarence. Warwick was not well satisfied with the marquis, who by not opposing him had advantaged the Enemy; he levied Soldiers apace that he might come to the battle, and advertised the Duke of Clarence to the end that he might hasten unto him; but growing fearful of his temporising he resolved to fight himself alone with those troops he had, and with this design he went to Coventry: Edward, who soon after his departure from Warwick was come thither, followed him the same way: the Earl was much perplexed; he was certain of nothing but battle, his safety depended upon the will of Fortune: His son in Law and his brother were corrupted: the first for certain, the second not unlikely, but rather to be doubted then built upon. So as having entrenched himself he expected the Duke's coming, who he understood was not far off. Edward who was not far off raised his camp as if he meant to give his Brother Clarence battle apart, and presented himself in battle array before him. But as soon as they were within sight one of the other, the Duke of Gloucester ran into Clarence his Camp, not demanding safe-conduct as upon like occasions is usual; they seemed to treat of what they had long before concluded between themselves: peace was published, and Edward proclaimed King, and the two Brothers embraced each other, as if there never had been any thing of difference between them. Never was man more directly murdered than was Warwick. All mischief is expected from a declared Enemy: but such as proceed from a pretended Friend is as bitter as unexpected. 'Tis not to be denied that enmity between Brethren is contrary to nature; but their reconcilement ought not to be made by the violation of Oaths, the ruin of a Friend, Confederate and Father in Law: we see the great enormities in their proceedings, but we shall see their punishments. The Duke of Clarence sent to excuse himself to the Earl of Warwick, offering him any advantageous conditions with the King his Brother; but he having with much distemper heard the message accounting his offers Snares answered: that he in all his actions had ever done like unto himself, not like him, a false and perjured Prince, and that he would not quit the War till either dead or revenged: words which gave assurance of nothing but Arms. But Edward thinking the first thing he had to do was to have Henry in his power turned towards London, of the which if he could once make himself master he needed no more, since the City was sufficient to furnish him with whatsoever he needed. The Earl had notice hereof, and did accordingly advertise the Duke of Somerset, his Brother the Archbishop, and the Council, entreating them to defend the City only for three days, whithin which time he would come and free them from all danger, but the Citizens (since their lives and goods were in question, if they should oppose themselves and after be enforced to yield) consented not thereunto: and though Henry's goodness did stir them up to assist him, yet his weakness advised the contrary; for unfit for whatsoever action he lived in the Bishop's house dumb and stupid; not knowing how either to give or take counsel. Comines all edges three reasons why Edward was preferred before him, which if not true may yet seem true: first the many partakers he had in the Liberties of the City, and that his Queen was newly delivered of a Son: the second; the great debt he ought there, which caused the Merchants to favour him, lest they might lose their principal: the third, the love of many of the chiefest and richest Citizens wives, who as having had familiarity with him drew their Husbands and Friends to favour him. Whether any of all these were true or no, or that Henry's incapacity was the only cause thereof, the resolution taken was in Edward's behalf; so as in stead of denying him entrance, they ran to meet him: whereupon the chief of the adverse party hasted to save themselves. Forsaken Henry was he alone, who void of help, dexterity, or resolution, knew not how to escape; so as Edward being entered, and received with popular applause, six Months after the loss of his Kingdom; he put him again into the same prison from whence few Months before he had been taken out by the Earl of Warwick, and wherein might he have been suffered to live he would have been more happy, according to his humour, then at liberty governing amongst so many alterations which did transcend the faculty of his brain. Edward in a public oration commended the people and thanked the Aldermen for having kept them loyal; on the contrary, he caused all such Merchants as well Citizens as Foreiners as had assisted Henry with moneys to be brought before him, and did with such bitter words and in so terrible a manner aggravate their fault as all men thought their turns were served: but he who had not his like in captivating men's minds, after having a long time held them in deadly suspense, put life into them expressing his last words with as much clemency as he had done his former with terror. This his clemency not procured by the importunacy of Officers, or Supplications, but proceeding from his own mere motion, did so win the hearts even of them that were not interested therein, as they for the future did that out of mere love, which formerly they would not have done but for fear. Warwick this mean while made haste towards London, knowing the City to be unfit for sieges, and much less for redoubled assaults: he thought notwithstanding it would defend itself the time desired, and that finding the enemy busied about winning the Town he might force him to fight upon disadvantage. But when he heard that Edward was received in and Henry again made prisoner, he was sorely afflicted, he saw he had cast up his accounts wrong, and that fortune had brought him to a precipice which he could not shun: but there was no remedy, and had there been any, he would rather have died than have endeavoured it. The Soldiers he had were good, but few in comparison of those of an enemy smiled on by fortune, courageous in himself, and obeyed by all men: He on the other side had none on whom to trust, and if he should lose the battle he had no succour, for doubtless all the Kingdom would incline to the Conqueror, being they were already that ways given. That which troubled him most of all was, he knew not what to think of the marquis his brother, who had so often showed himself unwilling to meddle in this war, and still continued of the same mind: He thought to have dismissed him but it had been dangerous so to have done, for so he should not only have lessened his Army, but perhaps have made him with his Troops go over to the enemy; he resolved, by saying nothing, to oblige him to run the same fortune as he should run, as he did. He stayed at St. Albans a little, to refresh his people, and went from thence to Barnet, where he encamped himself, confidently believing the enemy would come to find him out: nor was he deceived; for Edward, not willing he should come to London, (a City which he had experienced to be subject to revolt upon such like occasions) left the Town guarded by his confidents, and marched forth with the same Army, wherewith he had entered the Town; whereunto was added a Troop of choice young men armed at all pieces, so as though he could not but hope for victory, yet was he ill advised, since he now put that to the hazard of fortune, which by temporising he might surely obtain: for, all the Country being on his side, and he the supe riour in forces, 'twas in his power to have starved the enemy, and utterly undone him without the loss of one man. But these dull Fabian wars are seldom or never seen in England. Edward came to Barnet on Easter Eve, and encamped himself so near the enemy, as not only the neighing of horses, but men's voices were heard from the one camp to the other, so as you will easily be lief they slept not much that night. The unfortunate Henry was brought along, to the end that his captivity might astonish the enemy, and make him less courageous; or else, that if Edward should lose the day he might make the more advantageous conditions. As soon as day appeared (the day dedicated to our Saviour's resurrection) the Earl of Warwick drew forth his Army into three Squadrons: He assigned the first to the marquis, and the Earl of Oxford, flanked by some Troops of horse; the second he kept for himself, accompanied by the Duke of Exeter; and gave the last to the Duke of Somerset. Edward (observing the same order, gave his Vanguard to the Duke of Gloucester, (a man of great courage and counsel) the Rearward to the Lord Hastings, (a constant cider with the white Rose) and kept the main battle for himself, and the Duke of Clarence, keeping the prisoner Henry by him: he framed a squadron of the surplus of his men to make use of upon all occasions. Neither side wanted arguments to encourage their men: the one Rebellion, the other Tyranny. The Archers began the battle, and the Arrows being spent they came to handy-blowes: Edward's party prevailed in number, but not in order, vigilancy, nor valour. The battle was fought from Sun rising till almost midday, fresh men supplying the places of such as were wounded or wearied. The Earl's squadron having the worst he reinforced it with a Troop drawn out of the Rearward, with the which he made the enemy lose so much ground, as many of them flying away brought false news to London, that Edward was put to rout: who having stayed his own men, fight himself a vie with whatsoever Soldier, made the reserved Squadron come in on the flank, which gave so impetuously on those wearied men, as that though the Earl did what possibly he could to reinforce them, yet wanting fresh men, his voice nor example stood him in no stead, his men, for lack of breath falling under the enemies Sword. The Earl giving in where the enemy was thickest; either to open them, or not to out live the loss, was miserably slain. His brother (who by unwillingly undertaking this war, had been the first cause of this their last misfortune) seeing him drive in amongst the enemy (all other passions giving place to brotherly love) followed after him, to make him way to return, but he shut it up to himself by loss of his life. This was one of the fiercest battles ever fought by enraged men. The Kingdom and life was in question on the one side, life and the Kingdom on the other. Henry governed in name, in effect the Earl; but that which most provoked him, was the preservation of his ancient renown, and his desire of revenge upon the two brethren: Edward was by him accounted ungrateful, and perjured; Clarence ungrateful, perjured, and treacherous. The odd Band was his undoing. Some impute his loss to a mistake in his Van, for a mist arising which suffered them not well to discern passages, they took the Star rounded with rays, which was the Earl of Oxford's cognizance, and which was tacked upon each of his Soldier's sleeves, to be the Sun, which was Edward's cognizance: whereupon setting on Oxford's men, as on enemies, they forced them to run away; nor could the Earl of Oxford, who fought with incredible valour, detain them. How ever it was, Edward won the day, with the death of 10000 of his adversaries, and 1500. of his own; amongst which, none of note save Sir Humphrey Bourchier, son to the Lord Barnes. The cause of this so great slaughter was attributed hereto, that whereas Edward, in his other battles was wont to bid kill the Lords and Captains, but spare the rest, he did not so in this, being offended that they more esteemed Warwick than him. The Duke of Somerset and Earl of Oxford fled together towards Scotland; but fearing they might run danger by the length of the way, they went to Wales to find out jasper Earl of Pembroke. The Duke of Exeter, who was left alive among the dead bodies, got up with much a do, and came to Westminster, where he took Sanctuary. This was the end of Warwick's worldly glory, whose title was to make and unmake Kings. His ruin took its rise from his father; who being cousin-german to Henry the fifth, (they being brothers and sisters children) forsook his respect of consanguinity, for that of affinity; (Richard Duke of York having married his sister Cecily mother to Edward) and so lost his life: his son treading in his father's steps, and desirous to revenge his father's death, deposed Henry to set up Edward; by whom being neglected, he revolted from him, forced him to fly his Country, set Henry at liberty, and put the Crown again upon his head: but Edward being returned, and having changed his Lion's skin to a Foxes, he fell, betrayed by his son in law, abandoned by his brother, and at his greatest need forgotten by the common people, who had never more superstitiously worshipped any one, nor in their songs celebrated. Whereby the ambitious may learn not to raise tumults, trusting upon the people, which like the Sea, are moved by all winds. I must crave leave to answer one particular, falsely alleged by Comines. He says the Earl had always wont to fight on horseback, that if fortune should frown he might the better escape: that his brother the marquis, who was a gallant man, forced him at this time to fight on foot, and made his horses be led away. But who shall consider the Earls actions, and his battles, this last unexcepted, will believe him to be calumniated; for, say he should endeavour to save himself, did they not all do so? In this battle, Somerset and Oxford saved themselves by flight, where there was no speech of prisoners, nor ransom, but to die by the headsman, if not in the field. The marquis had less reason to fear, as one not hated by Edward, but rather by him suborned, as knowing his appearing against him made for him; for had he fought with him, either at York, or else at Pomfret, he never had regained his Kingdom. Had fear wrought any thing upon the Earl, he would not have refused his son in laws offers; he would not have resolved (the smallness of his numbers not considered) to have fought at Barnet; and knowing that Queen Margaret was hourly expected to land in England, he would have stayed for her. That he should fear her (as the said Comines and Chesnes do both aver) because the Duke of Somerset was with her, is false; for this Duke, who is by them pretended to be absent, was present at this battle, as hath been said: and the Queen could not but be his friend, for the services he had done her, and her future hopes in him; so as if he did not wait her coming, 'twas not for any of these reasons, but of his too much confiding in himself; which was his undoing. After this victory Edward returned in triumph to London, he gave God thanks in Paul's Church, he there hung up the Colours taken from the enemy; and for three days together exposed the dead bodies of the two brothers to the sight of all men, to the end that being seen dead, no man might further trouble him, with taking upon them the person and name of Warwioke, whose death was the establishment of his Kingdom: So that, as he could not sufficiently express his joy thereof, so could he not enough lament the Marquis' death, whom he loved, and who so loved him: as for Henry, the type of all misfortune, he was again put into the Tower. All this while Queen Margaret met not with a good wind for her passage, which was her misfortune; for 'tis to be believed, had she been come before the battle, matters would not have gone so ill on her side as they did: at last she landed in Dorsetshire, where hearing of Warwick's discomfiture and death, and Henry's re-imprisonment, her wont courage failing her she swooned, having now no further hope of comfort; the safest course she could take was to take sanctuary, she and her son in a Monastery at Beaulieu in Hampshire, whither all the chiefest of her faction came to find her out; namely, the Duke of Somerset, his brother john Earl of Devenshire, (who having been one of Edward's chief attendants, had, to his misfortune, I know not out of what capriccio, forsaken him) jasper Earl of Pembroke, the Lord Wenlocke, (who likewise had formerly been on Edward's side) and the Prior of St. john's one of the Knights of Bhodes. They had much ado to infuse new hopes into her: she was now no more troubled at her husband's imprisonment, nor at the loss of his Kingdom; (misfortunes by her esteemed irrevocable) her son's safety, as her only comfort, and the last of all her miseries, was that which only troubled her. Her opinion was not to tempt fortune any more for fear of endangering him: but Somerset persuaded her that if she would undertake the leading of her people (as formerly she had done) she should find so many partakers, amongst which an infinite number whom fear had made conceal themselves) that Edward would not be able to defend himself against them: that King Henry's goodness, and the expectation of his son, were deeply engraven in the hearts of all the Kingdom. This being by the rest confirmed, she suffered herself to be perswaded; she desired to provide for her son's safety by sending him into France, but could not effect it, for Somerset alleged his presence was requisite; whereupon she condescended. This being resolved upon, every one went to make their necessary provisions; and the Queen with the French that were come along with her went to the Bath, whither they came afterwards all unto her. Edward had hardly had time to breath after his victory at Barnet when he heard Queen Margaret was landed, and what concourse of people flocked unto her out of Devonshire, and Cornwall, and other Southern parts; he knew not what to do, as not knowing in what part she would set upon him: he sent forth some light-horse to make discovery, and hearing where she was, he commanded that the Trained-bands should come to Abbington, whither he himself came with those of London, and thereabouts. As soon as they were come thither he marched to hinder the enemy from joining with the Earl of Pembroke, and the other forces, thinking that he might facilitate his victory by fight with them in their present condition. The Queen understanding his design went to Bristol, so to go to Wales; but the difficulty of passing over Severne, and the Duke of Somersets obstinacy caused her last ruin: her right way lay by Gloucester, but the City being under the government of the Duke of Gloucester, the King's brother, she was not suffered to pass by there; neither could she force her way having Edward at her heels: she went to Tewksbury, with intent to pass as speedily as she might into Wales, but the Duke of Somerset not enduring this flight took a fancy to make an halt and fight presently, and not wait for the coming of the Earl of Pembroke, who could not be far off: his reason was the danger of being defeated in this their retreat; the Captains approved his motion of making a stand, but not of fight: their opinion was, that they should entrench themselves, so as they might not be forced without apparent danger to the enemy. The Duke seemed not to be displeased at this; for which purpose he chose the Park near to the City, where he so well fortified himself, as that he would have made it good, had not his impatient rashness undone him: for believing he could never quit his Trenches without battle, he thought better to give it then to receive it; with this fatal capriccio he marshaled his men. He and his brother john took the Vanguard; he gave the Rearward to the Earl of Devonshire, and the main battle to Prince Edward under the directions of the Lord Saint john's, and Lord Venlocke; the last being promoted to that honour by King Edward, and therefore noted of treachery. The Duke of Gloucester who had the charge of his brother's Van making use both of craft and courage set upon the trenches, and finding them not to be forced, retreated; whereupon ensued the very thing he imagined; to wit, that Somerset growing hereupon bold, would pursue him out of his trenches; the which he did, believing to be seconded by the Lord Venlocke with Prince Edward's Squadron; but he not moving, the Duke, after a long conflict was defeated and driven back into his trenches, pursued even into them by Gloucester; where finding Venlocke yet not moved, he called him traitor, and with his Sword clove his head in two. The King this mean while having followed Gloucester into the trenches, cut the rest in pieces, some few escaping into the thickets of the Park, into Monasteries, and whether else they could fly. The Queen was found in a Chariot half dead with sorrow and taken prisoner. Speed says she fled to a Covent of Nuns, that she was taken thence by force, and brought to the King at Worcester. The Duke of Somerset, and the Prior of Saint john's valiantly fight, were taken alive: john the Duke's brother, the Earl of Devonshire, with some Knights, and 3000 more were slain. Prince Edward fell into the hands of Sir Richard Crofts, who intended to have concealed him, but the King having promised a pension during life of an hundred pounds a year to whosoever should bring him to him alive or dead, and life to the young Prince, if he were yet alive; Crofts not believing he would falsify his faith, presented him unto him. Edward looked upon him, and admiring the sweetness of his youth, and disposition, asked him, how he durst come with flying Colours into his Kingdom, and raise his people against him? to the which he courageously answered, that he came to recover his father's Kingdom, his proper and natural inheritance, which could not be denied since it fell unto him by legitimate descent from Father, Grandfather, and Great-grand-father. The King offended at these words, struck him in the face with a Switches which he had in his hand, whilst Clarence, Gloucester, the marquis Dorset, and Lord Hastings suddenly slew him with their Daggers, who were all repaid in due time with equal cruelty. The Duke of Somerset, the Prior of Saint john's, and fourteen others, were beheaded on a monday. This battle was the last of the Civil wars during Edward's time. The Queen was brought to London, and some years after ransomed (as some say) by her father Renatus King of Sicily for fifty thousand Crowns, which were lent him by Lewis the eleventh, and not having wherewithal to re-pay them, he sold unto him his pretence unto the Kingdom of Naples, by which title Charles afterwards went and laid claim to it. Tillet is alleged for one of those who writ this: I confess I never found any such thing in his Collection; I remember I have therein read, that Charles the Count of Provence (who took upon him the Title of King of Sicily after Renatus his death) made Lewis the eleventh his heir, by virtue whereof Charles the eighth pretended to that Kingdom. The two brothers of Sancta Martha in their genealogical History of the house of France, affirm the same: and speaking of this Queen, they say, she was set at liberty in the year 1475. having renounced all she could lay claim unto in England by the way of Jointure: they mention the opinion of the fifty thousand Crowns, but they believe it not to be true. However it was, she was sent back to France, to spend the rest of her life in perpetual sorrow, not for the loss of her husband, or Kingdom, but of her son; whose sad memory accompanied her to her grave. After this Edward visited the neighbouring Countries, chastising in sundry manners such as had appeared against him, from thence he went to London, to remedy an inconvenience, which if it had happened at the Queen's arrival, his affairs had not succeeded so prosperously. Authors observe him to have good fortune in such accidents as might have hurt him, since they happened at such times as they could not do so. Had the Queen come before Warwick's defeat, he might peradventure have been enforced to a second forsaking of England: if the Duke of Somerset had stayed for the Earl of Pembroke at Tewksbury, or that the like accident we are to speak of had then happened, he had met with much of danger and difficulty. The Earl of Warwick after Edward's flight into Flaunders had given the charge of the Narrow-seas between England and France to Thomas Nevil a base borne son to the Lord Faulconbridge Earl of Kent, a man well known for the greatness of his courage and Spirit. The Earl of Warwick being dead, and he having lost the profits of his place (which was Vide-admiral) being declared an enemy to the King, and consequently an exile void of means, he betook himself to live by piracy, robbing all ships that past by, whether friends or foes. But thinking that by doing little harm he could do himself but little good, he bethought himself that Edward being now with his forces in the Western parts of the Kingdom a fair occasion was offered of handsomely handling his affairs. With this design he landed in Kent; he had many ships full fraught with desperate people; and such as abhorred poverty and parsimony, not knowing how to live, but by rapine and wickedness, flocked unto him: to these were joined seventeen thousand men more, if not better, yet upon better pretences: They gave out that they would set Henry at liberty, reinvest him in his estate, and drive out the usurper: the pretence bore with it a specious show, but their ends were to sack London; they assaulted it on three parts, upon the Bridge, upon Algate, and upon Bishopsgate: but not able to force the City, they were by the inhabitants thereof beaten back, and many of them slain. Thomas Nevil their chief Commander hearing that Edward hasted towards him, retired with his first followers to Sandwich, leaving the rest to return upon their peril to their own homes, but not long after having misgoverned himself in his charge, or given some signs of infidelity, or were it that the King thought it not safe to trust his Fleet with one of the Lancastrian faction, especially in a time when the Earl of Richmond was in Britain, he was arrested in the Haven of Southampton and executed, paying for his former defaults, which to the hurt of all men he had committed by Sea and Land. The Earl of Pembroke was yet in Wales after all the rest of his faction were either slain or fled; which much troubled Edward: he commanded Roger Vaughan (a man much followed in that Country) to kill him, in any whatsoever manner; but the Earl, being informed thereof, prevented him, using Vaughan as Vaughan would have used him: he then retired himself to Pembroke, a strong place, where he thought himself safe: but he was there besieged by Morgan ap Thomas, who so blocked up the Castle with ditches and trenches, that it was impossible for him to get out, had it not been by the means of David ap Thomas brother to Morgan. This man brought him forth, and embarked him and his nephew Henry Earl of Richmond, who were both by fortune driven into a Haven in Britain: his intention was to have landed in Normandy, and to have put himself into the protection of King Lewis, who was likely to run advantage thereby, for after the war made under the title of the Common good; Lewis was very jealous of his brother, and of the Dukes of Burgundy and Britain, and feared that England now free from home dissensions might assist them. He apprehended nothing more, then that the English should once more set footing in Normandy: so as the Earl of Richmond, next heir to the Crown after Henry and his son, was likely to serve him as a powerful means to keep Edward so busied at home by such as sided with the house of Lancaster, as that he should not dream of foreign erterprises; but being fall'n upon Britain, the Duke thereof, which was Francis the second, knew very well how to make use of this accident to his advantage: for he was now sure he had a pledge, which would upon all occasions enforce Edward to comply with his desires. He graciously received them, and promised them all security; he sent them to Uannes' in appearance free and at liberty, but in effect he set a good guard upon them. This Prince's escape was the deadly blow to the house of York; for though Edward left no mean unassayed to have him in his hands, he could never get him. When Edward had settled the business in Kent (he himself being gone thither to punish the faulty) he thought not himself sufficiently established as long as Henry lived, and till he had extirpated the root from whence did bud forth all the rebellions. Some have thought that Gloucester put this into his head. That even from that time he began to have thoughts of the Kingdom, and that to have hereby one less opposition thereunto he advised his brother to it; the which I believe, but not upon that design; there was small appearance of it, he having another brother alive, though he himself was so wholly composed of wickedness as I shall join with him that shall think worst of him. Howsoever it was, he went to the Tower, was Counsellor, Judge, and Hangman, and with one stroke of a Dagger slew the unfortunate Henry. It doth not notwithstanding clearly appear that he slew him with his own hands, but 'tis certain this so cruel and unjust a deed was done whilst He was present. This was the end of this good King; thus ended He his troubles and began his rest, Divine grace having chalked out the way unto Him by indowing Him with such conditions and peculiar virtues as are requisite to the finding out of that permanent abode, which we all seek after. He was beloved, but 'twas but a nominal love caused by His Religious virtues naturally vennerable; but wanting wisdom and valour, He was in effect neither loved nor feared by any. He was a King from his Cradle, and to boot with his patrimonial Kingdom was crowned King of France in Paris; an honour shared in by none before nor after: and though He appeared not in Battles Armed and Soldier like as did his Father, yet did not the progress of Victories for many years cease in that Kingdom under his Name, till such time as (nature manifesting herself in him) civil Wars arose, by which He lost France, England, and Himself. Amongst his Christianlike virtues, three are remarked of exemplary edification; the one of Chastity, the other two of Patience. Certain Ladies (before He was married) danced a mask before Him, who having their Bosoms bare, and their Heads fantastically attired, they no sooner appeared before Him but he retired into his Chamber, saying; He wondered they did not blush so much to shame themselves. From this and the like cases (he not having in all the time of his youth nor at any time after, given any the least sign of inconstancy) some of his detractours would argue that he was impotent, and that Prince Edward was not his Son: as if God could not be the Author of continency without the means of frigidity and natural deficience. When he was a prisoner he was with a Sword wounded in the side by own who was come thither to kill him, and who did not redouble his trust, being belike struck with horror in the very act of cruelty: who this man was, or how, or by whom sent is not mentioned by Authors; when Henry was restored to his Kingdom, he who had wounded him was taken and brought before him to be punished, but he caused him to be untied and pardoned him the so doing, for that it was done to one whose sins deserved greater punishment. To another who in the same Prison gave him a cuff on the Ear, he only replied he was too blame for having struck an anointed King. Henry the Seventh had once a thought to have him Canonised upon the relation of his miracles, but he forbore the prosecution of it; some think, because he thought much of the accustomed expenses in such solemnities, which being done for a King, and by a King would in all reason have been expected magnificent, which was contrary to his frugality. Others, (as I have been told) would have it that being informed that distinction was made in Rome, between such as were blamelessly innocent, and such as were Saints, he gave over the pursuit of it. Henry was a lover of learning, and of the learned; he founded Eaton-Colledge, and endowed it with great Revenues, and provision for Tutors to teach Children their first rudiments. He founded Kings College in Cambridge, whither the Scholars of Eton are transplanted, there to perfect their Studies in Sciences and Languages: His intention was to make it perfectly magnificent, but his misfortunes did not permit him to finish it: the vastness of the Chapel (a mark of his intention and zeal) witnesseth this unto us: He endowed it with a revenue of 3400 pound sterling yearly, which since that time is increased. He reigned 38 years and some few days, before He was deposed; and but bore six months after He was restored. He had no issue but Edward Prince of Wales, slain as hath been said. He lived fifty two Years. His body was carried from the Tower to Paul's Church environed with a great many Armed men, where one whole day he was exposed to the view of all men with his face bare, to the end the people might be assured of his Death; and there did issue forth great quantity of Blood from out his wound a sight which moved compassion in those that looked on: being taken from thence and carried to Blackfriar's Church, his Body bled again: at last He was put into a Coffin, carried to Chersey, and there privately buried without any manner of pomp or Christianlike solemnity. Henry the Seventh made his body afterwards be brought from thence and buried in Westminster, where He caused a Princely Monument to be built for him. But in these times 'tis said not to be there, nor that it is known where it is. Edward thus freed of his chiefest troubles, was not notwithstanding 1472. in quiet; for many more arose which, though less, ceased not to trouble him: amongst which some strange events which I forbear to name, which, though natural, were by some superstitiously minded, thought to be prodigies of future mischief. The Earl of Oxford, who after the battle at Barnet had got into Wales, and from thence to France, having put to Sea with seventy five men passed into Cornwall, where He made himself master of Saint Michael's mount, and did there fortify himself with meat and ammunition: but living there, like a banished man, full of fears, He capitulated to surrender it, His life saved; the which though it were made good unto him, yet was in such a manner as He had been better have fled again, then in hope of life and livelihood live miserably imprisoned: for He was sent to Hams where He was kept twelve years, till the last of Richard the Third, all succour denied Him, even the company of His Wife, both of them being equally hated by the King: the Earl; for that He, his Father, and Brother, had mightily favoured the house of Lancaster: and his Wife; as sister to the Earl of Warwick, the first disturber of his quiet: so as having taken from her all she had, she lived upon the charity of other people, and by what she daily won by her needle. The King forgot not the Archbishop of York, though a Clergy man; and though when he was his prisoner he entreated him with all humanity and respect; and by affording him the liberty of hunting afforded him the like to escape: he sent him to the Castle of Guisnes, causing him there to be strictly looked unto: and though some while after at the request of his friends, he gave him his liberty, 'twas too late for him; for overdone with grief and melancholy, he but for a small while enjoyed his begged freedom: The death of his two Brothers, the extirpation of his Family, and the Kingdoms being in the hands of an enemy Prince caused his death. Henry Holland Duke of Exeter (he who Philip Comines affirms he hath seen begging bare Foot and bare Legged, from door to door in the Court of Charles Duke of Burgundy, and whose Grandmother was sister to Henry the Fourth, being repossessed of his goods when Henry the sixth was repossessed of his Kingdom, enjoyed that happiness but a small time, for at Edward's return he was left amongst the dead at the battle of Barnet, but coming to himself again, he took Sanctuary at Westminster, where hoping to obtain pardon by the intercession of his Wife Anne Sister to the King, she was so far from entreating for him as that she desired to be divorced; which she obtained: whereupon forsaking the Sanctuary out of desperation, 'tis not known what he did with himself; his Body was found upon the shore of Kent, no Shipwreck being discerned. The inhumanity of this Anne, and the fraud of her Sister Margaret of Burgundy (as will be seen in the Reign of Henry the Seventh) afford me an observation, which, but upon such an occasion, I should not have lighted upon. It cannot be said but that the pretence unto the Kingdom was a principal cause of the enmity between the houses of Lancaster and York; to think otherwise were to err against common sense, but I believe that without such respect they had been incapable of hearty friendship, by reason of the difference of their natures, derived from their forefathers. For, as all that was good in the House of York was wound up in Edmund Duke of York the first Father thereof; so all the bad of the House of Lancaster, rested in the person of john Duke of Lancaster the first Father thereof; with this difference notwithstanding; that whereas the good was intense and constant in Edmund, the bad was remiss and inconstant in john; the former never did any harm, for being naturally inclined to do good it would have troubled him to have done evil to any one; the other having ability to do evil, and having done evil, by a virtuous resolution forbear to do so; but this goodness ceased with Edmund, those who descended from him being stained with fraud and malice: and evil (such as it was) ceased likewise with john, all who descended from him proving virtuous; but as Henry the Fourth, his only Son, may seem not to merit the name of good having usurped the Kingdom, and to secure himself therein committed so many excesses; so Edward the eldest Son of York may seem not to deserve the name of bad, having in virtue out done his Father dying gloriously in the battle of Agincourt: but for all this the observation is not erroneous; for if Henry did usurp the Kingdom, 'twas not by consultation, or any fancy of his own, for he had never dreamt thereof had not the people called him thereunto, and Richard's ill government enforced him. On the contrary Edward Duke of York lost all claim to goodness, by conspiring against the said Henry to bereave him both of Life and Kingdom, not having been any ways injured by him; for all the rest they admit not of exception: all the Lancastrians were good; those of York, bad: Edward the Fourth did almost always falsify his Faith, the Duke of Clarence; first was traitor to his Brother▪ then to his Father in Law, Richard the Third a monster in perfidiousness and cruelty, all of both houses were notwithstanding equally valiant, Henry the sixth excepted, whose intentiveness to Divine things, took from him the thought of humane assaires; whereupon as the house of Lancaster lost the Kingdom in him, through His too much goodness, so the house of York lost it in Richard the Third through his height of wickedness: so as it is not to be wondered at if Henry the Eighth, proceeding afterwards from these two Races, did in his first year proceed so well being begotten by a Lancastrian father, and afterwards so ill, his mother being of the house of York; not that she was bad, but by the influence of her blood. Edward's revenge was not bounded with the punishment of the great ones; for, making enquiry after such as had born Arms against him, he caused many of the meaner sort to be executed; and, not able to inflict the like punishment on them all, without the mark of cruelty, he taxed them all in sums of Money, some more, some less, according to their possessions. But the Earl of Pembroke's and the Earl of Richmond's escape did much trouble him, as that which did most import him, since they were forthcoming and out of his reach. He sent over into Britanny, and spared neither for promises, nor ready moneys to obtain them. But the Duke unwilling to violate the laws of hospitality and his plighted faith, denied to deliver them; upon promise notwithstanding to have such a care of them, as that they should not molest him. He stood in need of the friendship of England, for that Lewis kept him perpetually busied, so as it made much for him to have those two Earls in his custody, that he might so hold Edward in hand and in hope, and make him depend upon his will and pleasure with firm resolution notwithstanding, in commiseration of their misfortunes, never to yield them up: he notwithstanding parted them one from another, and took from them such English as waited upon them, placing his own servants about them, to the end that, making them safe, Edward might be the more secure, by his keeping promise with him, and faith with them. But Edward not herewithal satisfied (foreseeing, as it may be thought) the evil that was to ensue thereby, though not in his life-time) sent unto him again, under pretence of thanking him, but, in effect, to tie him with a chain of Gold to look well to them: he obliged himself to pay unto him a yearly Pension, hoping that the gate being once open to the receiving of Moneys, he might easily obtain them by some great sum, when his honesty and faith waxen old might be wrought upon by the batteries of Bribery. But if he were deceived in the one, he was not so in the other; for the Pension made him the more diligent in their Custody. Charles Duke of Burgundy sent Ambassadors over into England, to move Edward to cross the Seas and make Wars with France, 1473. that so he might recover those Provinces which, not many years before, were lost by the English, promising him to assist him in the recovery thereof. Edward was herewithal much pleased; he called a Parliament, and easily obtained Moneys, wherewith he made requisite provisions for a business of so great importance. But before we proceed any further herein, 'tis requisite we take a short view of some few years past, that we may find the Rise of this Commotion, and so the better understand the cause and groundwork thereof. There was so great an Antipathy between the King of France and Duke of Burgundy, as it made them differ in all their actions: their enmity grew ever since the King, being Dolphin, and fled from his father, did retire himself into Flanders, where he tarried many years, defrayed, and nobly entertained by Philip father to Charles; so as that which in others would have served as the seed of friendship and good will, served them all their life-time as the cause of hatred. The King was endued with many excellent conditions; for wisdom he was not inferior to any of the then-Princes in Christendom; though that wisdom (according to those who with more superstitious accurateness define it) did rather deserve the name of Craft; the object thereof being for the most part deceit. He conceived that, having himself been turbulent and refractory to his father, his brother Charles, the Princes of the blood, and other great ones might with more reason be like to him: That there were but two remedies for it: To keep them under, by not committing any charge unto their trust; and To disunite them, by sowing discord amongst them. Those whom he most feared, and consequently most hated, were the Dukes of Burgundy and of Britanny, great and puissant Princes; and much the more, for that they had obliged themselves by plighted faith to run one and the same Fortune. He much feared his Brother, not that he had any brains (for being very simple, there was small cause of fear in him) but that, seduced by other men's wariness, he might serve for a pretence to their ambitions; he therefore fed him still with hopes, but kept him in perpetual poverty, to bereave him of all means whereby to make him considerable; he never made good that which he promised him; and though he afterwards gave him the Duchy of Berry, 'twas in so dry a fashion, as having distasted him, he fled into Britanny, whence arose the War of the Common Good, in which they all joined against him. Philip the father of Charles, who was then alive, did not confederate with them, but being distasted that the King would have redeemed all such Cities as he held upon the Soame (which could not be denied him, according to the Treaty at Arras) he suffered his son to go over to them, who made a conclusion thereof with a Peace, not to the Common good, but to the good of particulars: for Lewis, to free himself of them, freely promised all they could demand, intending not to perform any thing save what he could not choose; and waiting for an occasion to ruin them one by one, when they should be disjoined, he restored to Burgundy the forenamed Cities, he having paid nine months before Four hundred thousand Crowns for them; he quitted them now for nothing, and not to be redeemed under Two hundred thousand, and that not till after the death of Charles. He created Count St. Paul Constable of France; he yielded up the Duke of Britanny certain Towns in Normandy, which he had taken; and to his brother, instead of the Dukedom of Berry, he gave the Dukedom of Normandy, which he soon after took from him, changing it for the Dukedom of Guienne, to the end that being far from the help of England and Burgundy, he might take it from him as he had done the former, and as he already began to do, had he not by poison died. Lewis his Design, after his brother's death, was to ruin the other two that yet remained, using all possible means to separate them one from the other, as he had separated his brother from them both. Duke Philip being this mean while dead, and he having made new agreements with Duke Charles, his son, he kept not any one of them; but seeing him entangled in the Germane Wars, he set the Emperor, the Dukes of Lorrein and of Austria, and the Swissers upon his back; which was the cause why Charles, not able to oppose two mighty enemies at the same time, incited Edward against him, in like manner as his father Philip had incited Henry the fifth against Charles the seventh, father to this Lewis. But the Duke had undertaken to justle with a wit superior to his: Lewis was a dissembler, patient, cautelous, accustomed to war no less with Business then with Arms, and more by Moneys then by exposing himself to hazard; a Captain who knew how to watch his opportunity, to meet occasion, to feed even the most incredulous with hopes; in his Fights, fear did not render him stupid, nor good success, proud; he was endued with a judgement void of harmful opinions; in choosing out times for the execution of his designs, he came not short of whatever provident and complete General. None of which, set Valour aside, was found in Charles, the vastness of whose imaginations gave not way to any consideration. He conceived he might at the same time keep Lewis low, reassume his ancient Title of King in Burgundy, extend his Dominions as far as runs the River Rhine, having in his imagination devoured Alsatia, the Swissers and Lorrein; so as he may be compared to those who, grasping at all, have made nothing sure but a miserable end unto themselves. Had he not dreamt of all the rest, but only applied himself to Lewis, his cunning would not have been able to have saved him. Edward spent much time in putting himself in order for this Voyage, having spent the Money given unto him for the War, 1474. upon his own occasions; so as not knowing any more expedient means, he caused a List to be made of all the richest and ablest men in London, of what condition soever; and calling them before him, he by his persuasions wrought so well upon them, showing them the necessity of his Undertaking, the honour of the Kingdom, the profit that would redound, and the extraordinary charge required thereunto, as they all willingly suffered themselves to be assessed, some to gratify him, some for example, some for fear; so as he got more Money than he needed for that purpose. A reverend old rich widow being by the King demanded what she would contribute upon so urgent an occasion, answered; Your Majesty's Royal and amiable presence exacts from me twenty pounds sterling. The King was pleased with the answer and with the gift, which he witnessed by kissing her; wherewithal the old wom●…n was so well pleased, as she gave him Twenty pounds more. When he was come to Dover, he there found fifty Ships sent by the Duke of Burgundy from Holland and Zealand for transportation of Horse, which was the diligence he used in this Enterprise: but such was the abundance of all things there, as they could not be passed over to Calais in less than Three weeks; so as if the King of France had had any Ships, as he had not, he had easily hindered them, or else have forced Edward to a double charge in securing their passage by a Fleet at Sea. The Army consisted of One thousand five hundred Horsemen, most of the Horses barded with Trappings, and each Horseman had sundry led Horses: great store of Foot, but Authors do not name the number; Fifteen thousand Bowmen, all on Horseback; infinite was the number of men employed about the Artillery and Tents; and amongst all this number, there was not one unuseful person. Commines says, Never did King of England pass the Seas with a more powerful Army, nor with better men, nor more richly armed. To boot with these, Three thousand men were set apart to go for Britanny. Edward, before he went from Dover, sent Gartier a Herald, and a Norman by Nation, with Letters to Lewis, wherein he demanded the Kingdom of France as properly belonging to him; which if he should deny, he denounced fire and sword against him, as against one who usurped what belonged to another. Lewis would read the Letter aside, to avoid the occasion of whispers which thereby might be given. When he had read it, he said unto the Herald, He knew his Master the King of England came not into France out of any motion of his own, but egged thereunto by the Duke of Burgundy (who, having ruinated himself, thought by his means to raise himself up again) and the Constable, who, as Uncle to his wife, had found more credit with him than he deserved; but let him be assured they would not make good any thing they had promised him; the Duke by reason of his impotency, and the Constable by his disloyalty, being born to deceive all men, and to sow distrust where he hoped for advantage: that he had made him Constable, to boot with other favours and Acts of Grace, with which since he could not oblige him, Edward was not likely to do it; for that it was impossible for him to tread in any path but that of Fraud and Treachery: That Edward having to do with such people in a season so near Winter, he might do better to agree with him, then to hazard his Person, Reputation, and People (trusting on two whereof the one was unable, the other unfaithful) and run hazard of too late Repentance. This being said, he with his own hands gave unto the Herald Three hundred Crowns, and promised him a thousand more, if the King his Master and he should 'gree, whereby he obliged him to do him the best service he could. Gartier, alured by his liberality, promised to do what he was able; but that the business was not to be moved till the King his Master had past the Seas; that then he would advise him to send a Herald to demand safeconduct for Ambassadors, who might address himself to the Lord Howard or the Lord Stanley, to whom he would bring him in. With this he took his leave, and was by Lewis in public (besides what he had given him in private) presented with Thirty els of Crimson-Velvet. When Edward was come to Calais, he was troubled not to find Charles there, who according to appointment was to have waited for him in that place; but he was more offended, that whereas the War should have been begun three Months before his arrival, he had not yet begun it, nor was he like to begin it, being busied in the Siege of Nuz: He sent forthwith to him, to know what he meant to do. Charles after the getting of Gelder's and the County of Zutphen, was carried away with new conceits: he was made Heir to those Countries by Arnaldus the last Duke, who had disinherited his son Adolphus, who had behaved himself ungratefully and cruelly towards him; so as being possessed thereof, he thirsted after the neighbouring Countries, and neglected the War of France, which most imported him: but being confirmed in this humour by the slow proceedings of Germany, by the avarice and wretchlessness of the Emperor Frederick the Third, who was not able to oppose him without the power of the whole Empire, he bent himself thereunto: to this purpose he procured a Truce with Lewis for some months. Lewis his Counsellors were averse to the granting of this Truce, but himself was of a contrary opinion; foreseeing, that if Charles were once entangled in these affairs, he would never rid his hands of them; for by having the Emperor, the Empire and the Princes thereof his enemies, he could not have leisure to employ himself elsewhere. Charles his design was to get the dominion of Rhine as far as Basil, which he thought he might do; for he already possessed all the Lands between Holland and Collen; and between Collen and Basil he enjoyed the County of Farrata, which was pawned to him by Sigismond Duke of Austria, the which he intended never to restore; and this his design was occasioned by his having taken into his protection Robert of Bavaria Archbishop of Collen Brother to Lodowick Prince Elector, who with a joint consent was by the Clergy and Commonalty driven out, and they placed Nortmannus Brother to Lodowick Barbarus Landgrave of Hessen in his place: But because Nuz a Fort of great consequence Three miles distant from Collen held with the City, he besieged it (it being defended by Henry Brother to Nortmannus) believing that when he should have taken this place, Collen would not long hold out. Lewis, seeing him thus madly minded, it redounding to his advantage that he should more and more be engaged therein, prolonged the Truce, and took from him all manner of scruple of breaking it. Charles laid Siege to Nuz at the same time that he had persuaded Edward to war with France, and was a whole year before it, when he thought suddenly to have taken it, and to have been time enough to have met Edward with his Fleet, which was as fair a one as any Prince could have. The Emperor and all the German Princes came to the succour of this Town, hoping to meet 20000 fight men there which Lewis had promised to send, but they came not, he having need of them himself to oppose the English, who were hourly expected in France. Lewis rather endeavoured to have peace with Charles, or to prolong the Truce, the which he did not obtain; for Charles presumed he could at the same time take Nuz, drive the Emperor away, and ruin Lewis, being set upon by three enemies; himself, England, and Britanny. Lewis, on the other side, favoured by the length of the Siege, and the slackness of the English, assoon as the Truce was expired, took many Cities of his, burned all his Country between Abbevile and Arraz, and took james of S. Paul, Brother to the Constable, prisoner: He made the Dukes of Lorraine and of Calabria his enemies, who entered Luxenburg; and likewise the Duke of Austria and the Swissers, who took from him the County of Farrata. He notwithstanding all this, was obstinate in continuing the Siege, nor did he rise from before the Town till forced by necessity, and divers incommodities; the which had he endured but Ten days longer (as he might very well have done) the Fort had been yielded up unto him; for people died there of hunger: but he raised the Siege, not knowing their necessity; and would have raised it before, all hopes of gaining it being lost, had it not been that out of ostentation he might say, that the Emperor accompanied by all the Princes of the Empire, as well Ecclesiastical as Secular, could not make him raise his Siege, though the Emperor's Army was four times as great as his: but seeing his Army consumed through long sufferings, the death of 4000 of the best Soldiers he had, the loss of Farrata, the Duchy of Luxenburg pillaged, the Counties of Poitiers and Piccardy burnt, the King of England so much desired by him, and so hardly wrought thereunto, at Calais, expecting him, and threatening to return; he was content to raise it, remitting Nuz to the Pope's Legate, to dispose thereof as the Apostolic Sea should think good. Thus having sent the remainder of his people into Lorrein and Bar, that by sacking them they might refresh themselves, he himself, with a very small attendance, went to Calais, where he was but coldly welcomed, as one who was expected in a Warlike, not in a Complimental posture. They did notwithstanding follow him, and were by him led by the way of Bullen to Peron, whereinto he suffered but few of them to enter, being jealous of the place as if they had been his enemies. The Constable had sundry times promised Charles to give up unto him Saint Quintines; but not having done it, and meaning nothing less, he now sent to him Lewis Creville with his excuse, saying, that if he should have delivered it up to him, he should have done him a disservice, by bereaving him of all belief of his service in France: but that now seeing he was joined with the King of England, he durst do it. He sent him likewise a Letter of Credit wherewithal to serve himself with the King, and to assure him of his best assistance in his behalf; this was accompanied with a Writing sealed up, wherein he promised to assist and serve all the Confederates of Burgundy, namely the King of England, against any whosoever, none excepted. The Constable was by nature perfidious and full of falsehood, but no ways wise; so as it is no wonder if notwithstanding all his cunning he was ruined: for evil doings seldom end well, especially when craft and treachery are used towards one more crafty and more powerful. The Fox loseth all his wiles, when in the Lion's paws. The Constable, while he was but Count S. Paul, had served Philip Duke of Burgundy, and gained the good will of his son Charles, whom he governed in all his ways; the which Lewis observing, he thought to win him over to his side, by making him his Constable, believing by this new obligation to corrupt his former ancient friendship; whilst Charles was confident the Count would never abandon his Cause: and both of them were deceived: For, though he might at the same time have kept his old Master, paid all Duties to his new one, and inhansed his deserts with the one and with the other; yet would not his bad inclinations suffer him so to do: for instead of being a means of peace and friendship between them, he stirred them both up to war and hatred. Sincerity and Candor were not merchandise for his Warehouse; nor could he have made use of them, had he been willing, whilst he believed his present greatness could not be augmented, nor yet preserved, but by his nourishing Discord between these two Princes, and causing all their actions to have a dependency on him, by making himself the Needle of the Dyal, which sometimes points to this, sometimes to that side. He was to blame to justle with two, the one of which was not inferior to him in craft, to wit, Charles; the other surpassing him therein, which was Lewis: the former was endued with little wisdom, as was he; the other, with so much, as he might have been therein master to them both. 'Twould be too tedious to number up his disloyalties: it may suffice to say, that he fomented the War between them, that he might necessitate Charles to marry his daughter to the Duke of Guienne: If he did it not, he threatened him with ruin, showing unto him Lewis his Forces; and if he did it, he promised him S. Quintines, and to procure the Duke of Britanny and his son-in-law to declare themselves against Lewis: whilst Lewis waging War with Charles, and being by him egged on, not knowing what he did, made War against himself, by enforcing him to implore their aid against him, by a Marriage equally detested by them both. The Duke of Guienne dying, he continued their Discord, lest, if they should agree, they might discover his evil Offices the one unto the other, whereby that might befall him, which indeed did: and believing that in case of danger his refuge might be with less hazard to Charles then to Lewis, the former not being so wary as the other, he alured him by the promise of S. Quintines, the which in time of peace, and by the instigation of the said Constable, was by Lewis taken from him, together with the Town of Amiens. He proposed surprisal for the way of delivering it up, promising he would suffer it to be taken; the which Charles having divers times offered at, was continually mocked and deluded, and those who went against it, were treated ill; whereat though Charles was scandalised, yet was he forced to admit his excuses: he made him believe he had sent to surprise it at an unfitting time; that if he had suffered it then to be taken, he should have lost all his credit with the King and with France, to the loss and prejudice of the Duke of Burgundy. Lewis knew part of this dissembling, and saw even into his bosom; but he knew not how to punish him, unless he should make an agreement with Charles: for the Constable being possessed of S. Quintines, and having much of his own Patrimonial Lands lying round about it, being very well followed, well allied, and of great Revenue, he feared he might lose the Fort if he should discover himself to be his enemy. But the King of England's coming was his bane: Edward believed that S. Quintines & the other adjacent places might serve him for places of Gariosn the next Winter; the Constables last promise, the Writing which was sent, and the credit given him by Charles, would not suffer him to think otherwise. Whereupon he marched towards it, and Charles led on the way; but when they were near the place, and some of Edward's Troops advanced themselves, believing they should have been received in assoon as they were within sight of the Walls, the Canon played upon them, and they might see themselves charged by sundry Troops of Horse and Foot, which slew two or three of them. This made the King believe he was (as indeed he was) basely betrayed. The Duke not knowing what to say to it, went his way the next day for mere shame, and left these new people, unacquainted with the Country, abandoned to Fortune, in danger of not being able either to serve him or themselves: and Edward seeing he was used but as an instrument to work the designs of others, began better to bethink himself. His men had taken a servant of james de Gratsi, a Gentleman who then served the King, prisoner: Edward would have him set at liberty without ransom: and the Lord Howard and Lord Stanley having furnished him with Moneys for his expenses, loaded him with the presentment of their services to the King, in case he should come to speak with him, which at his first coming he did. This News seeming strange to Lewis, who did not reflect upon the names of those that sent him, his natural jealousy wrought so far upon him, as that he made Irons to be clapped upon him, taking him to be but a Spy: the which he the rather did, for that his Master's brother was in great favour with the Duke of Bretagne: But after he had made him be privately examined by some, and had spoke with him himself, he remembered the English Heralds words; That if he did resolve to treat with Edward, he should send a Herald to demand safeconduct for his Ambassadors; prescribing unto him, that he should make his address to the Lord Howard and Lord Stanley. Having well bethought himself herein, some time past before he could resolve whether to do it or no: At last, he resolved and pitched upon a person to send, wherein his choice seemed very strange. Monsieur de Hales had a servant with whom Lewis had never spoken but once; he thought this man fit for the employment: he was a man poor in aspect, but rich in understanding; who could at the same time express himself boldly enough, and yet with modesty; whereupon it may be said that in this his choice he showed his wisdom: He caused a Herald's Coat be made for him, whereof there was none at that time in the Camp; for Lewis was an enemy to Apparences, no great friend to Decency, and no ways curious in the accustomed Formalities of Princes. This man received his Instructions, and presented himself before the English Camp. He made known to the Lords Howard and Stanley that he desired to speak with the King; and chancing to come when the King was at Dinner, he was led into a Tent to dine. When he was brought unto the King, he told him in Lewis his name, He was come from the King of France, his Master, who was desirous of Peace with his Majesty and his Kingdom, as that which was to be sought for by both of them, by reason of the commodity of Commerce, and which was necessary for the Subjects both of the one and the other: That the King his Master wondered to see him come into France, since he had never given him occasion to wage War: That if he had favoured Warwick, it was not out of any ill will to him or his House, but in respect of the Duke of Burgundy his inexorable enemy, who had made his Majesty of England take Arms against him, not for that he intended any advantage or honour to him thereby, but that the Forces of England might better his own condition and that of his Colleagues: That the Duke's affairs needed Accommodation, not War; the which might be witnessed by the state his Master found him in, since, being undone by a long and unfortunate Siege, he was reduced to such a pass, as that he could not sustain himself but at the charge of others. He wished Edward to consider that he had Winter at his back; That he was in the Field, and unprovided of Towns, not being come out of his own election, but called in to please his Subjects; who if they desired War with France, 'twas out of passion; since reason showed them there was no appearance of their reaping any profit thereby, but rather the contrary; for building upon the Duke of Burgundy and the Constable, they were certainly to be deceived, their Coin being of a false alloy: That he knew the King of England had been at great expense to come into France; but that if he would give way unto a Treaty, his Master would give him such satisfaction, as that he, his Nobility, and Country should have reason to rest satisfied: That if it would please him to send Lewis a safeconduct for a hundred Horse, he would send Ambassadors to wait upon him where he pleased, either in any Village, or between the two Camps; and that Lewis would not fail to send the like to wait upon his Ambassadors. Edward and the major part of his Counsel were well pleased with this Proposition. The Herald was suddenly dispatched away, being presented with a hundred Angels in a gilt-Cup, and had along with him the Safeconduct he desired, and was accompanied by an English Herald who might bring back the like; with the which assoon as he returned the Ambassadors met in a Village near Amiens; the two Armies being four Leagues distant from thence. And though the Demands of the English were exorbitant, standing still upon their old Pretences of demanding the Crown, and in the second place the Dutchies of Normandy and Guienne; yet the one being desirous to return home, the others to send them away assoon as possibly they could, this Treaty ended upon two chief Conditions, besides such as concerned Commerce: The one, That Lewis should pay to Edward Seventy five thousand Crowns (Seventy two thousand says Commines) before he went from France: the other, That the Dolphin (who was afterwards Charles the Eighth) should marry ELIZABETH, eldest Daughter to Edward (who was afterwards Wife to Henry the Seventh) allowing her for her Maintenance Fifty thousand Crowns a year; which were for Nine succeeding years to be paid her in the City of LONDON; at the end whereof the Marriage being to be consummated, the married Couple were jointly to enjoy all the Revenue of the Duchy of Guienne, the annual payment of the abovesaid Fifty thousand Crowns ceasing: And that the Peace between the two Kingdoms should be understood to continue during these Nine years, their friends therein comprehended, namely, the Dukes of Burgundy and Britanny. Many blamed Lewis for these Agreements; and not looking into the reasons thereof, imputed pusillanimity and cowardice unto him; but they did not well understand the business. Commines says, that besides his declared enemies, who were the Dukes of Britanny and Burgundy, and the Constable, he had so many private concealed ones in the body of his Kingdom, as without this Agreement he might have suffered loss. He meaneth (as I believe) such Princes and Lords who not approving of the Person of the King, would have caused the good oh France which Charles said once he wished her, to wit, That in stead of One King she might have Six. But suppose there were no such dangers; there yet remains one reason not spoken of by him, which of itself ought to have persuaded him to do what he did. The end of War is Victory; but all Victories are not equally profitable: there is difference between overcoming to preserve our own, and overcoming to get what is another's. The Victories of Charles the Seventh against Henry the Sixth, were of the later sort; for he preserved his Crown, and won what Henry possessed in France; but Lewis, who in his overcoming could not pretend to other advantage then the driving out an enemy who hazarded nothing, while he hazarded all, was not to put himself upon Fortune without a proportionable recompense to his expense and loss: so as if he bought Peace, 'twas in respect of his danger, at so cheap a rate, as the Seventy five thousand Crowns he paid down ready money, and the Fifty thousand for Nine years, would not have served him for One bare years expense to boot with a Thousand dangers and damages; so as he did what wisdom bade him do, not attending the opinion of others who did not arrive at this Physical knowledge, That real Victory is properly his who giving way to dangers that he may withstand them, doth without danger obtain his end, as he did: all this notwithstanding, I should not praise him, had he no other enemies beside Edward; for 'twere to propose to Princes a Maxim of Cowardice. His men believed that Edward seemed to make an agreement, that he might the better deceive him; but he thought not so; for Edward's occasions did not square with such dissimulation: He had the Winter at hand, wanted Towns, was distasted by Charles, deceived by the Constable, was naturally a lover of his Pastimes: so as Lewis his chiefest care was how to be rid of him, not valuing Moneys, or what others thought of him; and that he might the sooner be gone, he borrowed of every one; he would willingly have paid more, but would not part with any Towns or Provinces; he would rather have hazarded all. Edward gave him to understand he would by writing give him notice of some that betrayed him. I know not whether the Constable knew thus much or no, but he had many reasons to doubt it; and remembering that at a Diet held the year before at Bovines, Lewis and Charles had secretly proscribed him, to the end that he might pay for his so many Treacheries (though, by sums means he used, Lewis afterward hindered the execution thereof) he doubted the like in this Agreement: his conscience accused him of his past frauds used with the other two, and now with Edward; so as he feared lest their agreement might be his ruin: this caused him day by day to send new Messengers to Lewis with advertisements and counsels drawn from the Forge of his unfortunate Inventions; making himself so much the more suspected, by how much the affected ostentation of his fidelity bereft him of belief. He thought that since Lewis hated no Prince alive more than Charles, to hold him in hand with hateful Reports was the means to continue him still his enemy; and that the War continuing, the thread that was woven for his destruction, might either be lost, or else grow knotty. He sent unto him his Secretary, and together with him a Gentleman called Lewis Greville, who being first referred to Monsieur de Bouchage, and to Commines, Lewis (being informed of the business) sent for Monsieur de Contai, one of Charles his servants, who, though he were his prisoner, did notwithstanding pass with Messages between them: he placed this man in a Cupboard which was in his Chamber, to the end that, hearing what he was to say to these men, he might report the same to Charles; and placing himself near to the Cupboard, he sent for them in. Their Message was, That they were sent from Charles to the Constable, to alienate him from friendship with England, and that finding him distasted by the King of England, they had well-nigh persuaded him not only to abandon his friendship, but to lend his helping hand to rifle him in his return. This was spoken by Creville, who believing to be better credited by humouring him, imitated Charles his action, stamping with his foot, swearing, and giving Edward injurious terms. Lewis feigning as if he had been deaf, made him say the same thing over again, to the end that Contai might the better hear him; who mad to hear his Prince thus abused, longed to acquaint him with it. This mock-mask ended with an advice of the Constables (who knew not that the Agreement was fully made with Edward) that Lewis, to shun the danger which hung over him, should make a Truce with Charles, (whereunto he obliged himself to make Charles stand) and that he should give unto the English a Town or two, to hold them in hopes this Winter, who could not be so wicked as not to be content therewith. The designs of these his Counsels were, that the English by this means tarrying in France, and the Truce with Charles being to expire the next Spring, Lewis might be subject to the fear of War, and he might gain time by these two Towns to pacify Edward for his abuse at S. Quintines, and to sow Dissension between the other two; so as all three having need of him, he might, by diversely deceiving them, save himself; and seem to oblige them, whilst he did betray them. Assoon as Creville was gone, Contai came forth from the Cupboard, as much incensed as Lewis was gladded that Charles should know what sport the Constable made with him. I have this particular from Commines, as all the rest concerning the business now treated on: which though it be not simply requisite to our Story, yet it is most necessary for knitting up the business, and to make known the natures of the abovenamed, together with the true causes which did fore-ripen the Constable's death. A Parley and Interview was this mean while agreed upon between the two Kings, with agreement that Edward should return for England assoon as he should have received his Seventy five thousand Crowns, and that in pledge of his return he should leave as Hostages the Lord Howard and Sir john Chains Master of his Horse, who were to be set at liberty upon the certain News of his arrival in England. Lewis assigned Sixteen thousand Crowns annual Pension to be given to some of the chief English Lords, and was very bountiful in his gifts to Edward's servants. When Charles heard of this Accord, he hasted to find out Edward, from whom understanding what had been done, and how that he had comprehended him in the Truce, he answered, That he had not brought him out of England for any thing that concerned himself, but for Edward's own affairs, to the end that he might have occasion to imitate the glorious actions of his Predecessors in France, by recovering what of right belonged unto him; That since he was agreed not to do it, he was no ways concerned therein: and as touching the Truce, to the end he might see how little he esteemed it, he would not accept thereof, till Three Months after he should be landed in England. The King would have convinced him with reason, showing him that all the inconvenience had risen from him: but he not listening thereunto, departed so much distasted, as there never was after this any good Intelligence between them. If Charles were angry at this Truce, it amazed the Constable much more, before he knew the certain conclusion thereof; and when he knew it, he sent his Confessor to Edward, to entreat him not to give belief to Lewis his words or promises; That he would be pleased to accept of the two Towns of Yew and S. Valleri, which should be delivered up unto him; That he might lodge there the beginning of the Winter, promising him better Towns within two month's space; but he named them not: He offered likewise to lend him Fifty thousand Crowns, to the end that he might not be necessitated to make the Agreement. But Edward answered, The Truce was concluded, and was to be observed; if he were displeased thereat, he might thank himself; for if he had kept his promise to him, he had not done it. The place of Parley between the two Kings, was Pichines, a Town belonging to the Vidame of Amiens, three Leagues distant from the City, where whilst a wooden Bridge was cast over the River of Some, and parties from either side were sent to view it, Edward came within half a League of Amiens, and was by Lewis presented with Three hundred Cartload of the best Wines that could be found, and his people had in the City free egress and regress. Lewis had caused many Tables laden with all sorts of salt-Meats which might provoke to drink, to be set at the entering in of the Gate; they were guarded by the best drinkers of France. Besides all this, he gave Commission to all the Inns and Taverns that they should feast the English, and not suffer them to pay a penny: Upon which occasion, Nine thousand English came into the Town. Some of the more cautelous French seeing this, were not void of suspicion, in somuch as they did advertise Lewis thereof: who having set people to observe their behaviours: Finding them all singing and making merry, and the most part of them drunk, he found no cause of fear. 'Twas a wonder that in three days, all which time this open Court was kept, there happened not any falling out or quarrel amongst so many drunkards. Assoon as the Bridge was fully finished, Edward marched towards it with his Army in a glorious manner; Lewis his Army being nothing in comparison to his. Lewis was come thither before Edward. Amongst the Orders of the Parley, one was, That each of them shoule send Four of their men into the company of the others, to have an eye upon what should be done, to the end that if they should find any cause of suspicion, they might advertise their Masters. But this was needless. The two Kings were to be attended upon the Bridge by Twelve men only, of which those that are named, were, john Duke of Bourbon, the Cardinal of Bourbon his Brother, and Commines Lord of Argenton, who had a Suit upon him like to that which King Lewis wore; for it was his custom oftentimes to have somebody near him clad in like manner as he himself was. Commines writes that when Edward appeared, his very presence spoke him a King; and that though he begun to grow somewhat fat, he was notwithstanding very handsome, though not altogether so comely as when Warwick made him flee to Flanders, at which time he was the handsomest and most comely man that ever he saw. There were with him his Brother the Duke of Clarence, the Earl of Northumberland, the Lord Hastings his Chamberlain, the Bishop of Ely his Chancellor, and others to the number of Twelve. The Duke of Gloucester came not thither, for that having not given his consent to the Truce, he would not be present when it was to be sworn unto. When Edward was come within Five spaces of the Grate, he took off his Cap, which was of black Velvet, whereon was a rich Jewel of Diamonds: they made ●…owe Reverences each to other, and embraced each other thorough the partitions of the Grate. Lewis was the first that spoke: he said, He never coveted any sight so much as this, and that he blessed God that had brought them together to so good an End. Edward having courteously replied in French, the Chancellor of England read the Treaty, ask Lewis whether it were the same that he had sent, and if he were therewithal content: he answered, Yes, as likewise with that which was sent him from the King of England. Hereupon the Massebook and the Cross being brought, they laid their hands thereon, and swore to observe the Truce of Nine years, comprehending therein those that were within named, and the Marriage between their children. This being done, Lewis said merrily to Edward, He might do well to come to Paris, to see the fair Ladies there, and take his pastime; and that if he should chance to commit some trivial transgressions, he would assign the Cardinal of Bourbon to him for his Confessor. This Cardinal was a young Prince, no enemy to good-fellowship: So as Edward being well pleased with the complimental Invitation, Lewis for a good while played upon them both. Lewis after this commanded his men to retire; and Edward's men forth with withdrew uncommanded. They discoursed a pretty while together, it not being well known whereon, but, as it is believed, to the prejudice of the Constable. Lewis asked him what he would advise him to do if the Duke of Burgundy should not accept of the Truce (as it was likely he would not, in regard of the proud terms he had used to him.) Offer it him the second time, replied Edward, and if he shall not then accept of it, do what you think best. Lewis made this enquiry concerning Burgundy, only that he might inquire of Edward (as he did) and discover what his opinion was of the Duke of Bretaigne. Edward said, The Duke of Bretaigne was his friend, and such a one as he had not found the like in his need: that therefore he desired Lewis not to molest him, but suffer him to live in quiet. Lewis was not well pleased with this answer; for his intentions were not good towards that Prince; and he was the worse pleased, for that he knew not the reason of it, which was his detaining of the Earl of Richmond; for it was in Bretaigne's power to trouble Edward if he listed: for though he should neither have assisted Richmond with Men nor Money, yet the permitting him to return to England, would be sufficient to shake all the foundation of that Kingdom. Lancaster's faction was ready to rise, hearing of his name, and to trouble the possession of the Crown; the which he having peaceably enjoyed since Henry's death, he was not likely to do so, long, so opposed. Lewis was ignorant of these interests; but cloaking his dislike, they took leave each of other, having embraced such Lords and Princes as were there. Edward returned to his Camp, and Lewis to Amiens, from whence he sent to Edward whatever he thought behoveful for him, even to Torches and Candles. The Duke of Gloucester, that he might pay the deuce of Civility, went to visit him, and returned presented with silver Plate, and horses most richly caparisoned. This King spared nothing where he might win those that might either be serviceable to him or harmful. He met with two things at this Interview which displeased him: the one, Edward's inclination to come to Paris; for being a Prince amorously given, he might by falling in love with some Lady, fall likewise in love with the Country, and so perchance take an humour to tread in the footsteps of his Predecessor: the other, his having declared himself so passionate in the Duke of Britanny's interest: He endeavoured to withdraw him from the later of these two; he caused him to be sifted by two several persons, as if they had casually fallen upon this discourse; but he perceiving their drift, said the only cause to make him pass the Seas again would be the molestation of the Duke of Bretaigne, and therefore wished them to talk no more thereof. Some of those that had to do in the Treaty of the Truce, went to sup with Lewis at Amiens, amongst which the Lord Howard was one; who told him in his ear that if he pleased, he would use some means to make Edward come and recreate himself with him at Amiens, and perchance at Paris. This discourse wounded Lewis his ears; but smiling, and putting a good face upon it, without further answer he fell to wash his hands. The Lord Howard did not notwithstanding forbear to talk of this with some others, who formerly aware thereof, answered, 'Twas impossible for the King to make any stay in any one place; for such were Charles his insolences, as did enforce him to wage War. But Howard conceiving them aright, forbore the further pursuit. Many of Edward's servants were displeased with this Agreement, believing he had not considered his Honour therein: One of them, named Lewis de Bretailles a Guascoigner, being with Commines, and demanded in how many Battles Edward had been present, replied, In eight or nine, and that he was victorious in them all, except in this which you have made him lose: for to return to England without fight or loss, will redound more to his dishonour then all his former won Battles will do to his honour. Lewis being told of this answer, swore, according to his custom, that this man's mouth must be stopped: he caused him to be sent for to Dinner to him; he made him many offers to draw him to his service; but he not accepting of any, he gave him a thousand Crowns: he promised him to prefer his Brethren who were in France; and he made Commines tell him in private, that if he would endeavour the continuance of the good intelligence and friendship between the two Crowns, to boot with the doing an office worthy of a man of Honour, he should oblige the King of France to reward him. These Artifices did Lewis use. One day after Dinner being come into his chamber, and laughing at Edward for having suffered himself to be caught with presents, he turned himself round, and saw at his back a Guascoigne-Merchant who lived in England, and was come to beg leave for the transportation of certain Gascoigne-Wines without the paying of a certain Impost; he was somewhat out of countenance, perceiving he had heard all he had said: he therefore granted his request, and caused him to be brought to Bourdeaux, where he gave him a good Office in that City, to the end that he might not return for England; and to that Office added a thousand Franks, by means whereof he might send for his wife and children, and would not suffer him to go himself for them, but made him send his brother. His having been too careless of his speech, and his fear lest the Merchant should tell what he had heard, forced this liberality and favour from him against his will. One named Rapines, a servant of the Constables, was come to Amiens before Edward departed thence, with Letters of Credence, at the same time when Monsieur de Contay was likewise returned from Charles. His business was to complain of his Master's misfortune, who was subject to the misreports of wicked men, whilst the King had no one servant more faithful, nor more affectionate to his service then was he. He made the same offer as formerly had been made in the Constable's name, To make the English in their return be set upon by Charles: But being told this was not to be done, since the agreement was concluded, Lewis gave him a Letter written with his own hand to deliver to the Constable, and made him read it before it was sealed up: so as Rapines thought his dispatch was very gracious. He, in this Letter by way of trust, made him a relation of what had passed, and added That he was so over-burdened with the present affairs, as he stood in need of having by him such a head as was his. A conceit which Rapines did not truly understand: but Lewis explaining himself to some of his familiar friends that were about him, said, He stood in need of such a head, but without the body; to the end it might no more deceive him. Assoon as Edward had received the Moneys agreed upon, he went his way, leaving with Lewis the forenamed Hostages: and although in some of his passage he was waylaid by Charles his people, yet he arrived safely at Calais. It seemed strange to many, that he having past the Seas, with the fairest and most powerful Army that ever King of England did, so small a sum of Money should make him return. Commines believes that his avarice to pocket up the Moneys he had received from his people for this Enterprise, was the cause thereof: but he is deceived; he had almost spent it all; nor had he as yet (though afterwards he did) given occasion to be noted of this vice. The true cause was the failing of the foundation of the Enterprise, by the default and negligence of Charles, and the Constable his cozenages. Charles believed that when Edward was once in France, he should be enforced to fight whether he would or no: and that he would entertain Lewis whilst he might do his affairs elsewhere; just as his father Philip did with the Duke of Bedford under Henry the sixth; but the condition of affairs was altered. Edward could not make War alone, as did Bedford. The English did then possess in France all that lay between the River Loire and the Sea, and a great part of Guienne; now scarcely Calais: Henry the sixth was born King, and a King by Succession, having then no Competitiours; Edward a new King, a stranger to the Crown, perturbed with jealousies of the contrary Faction, chiefly of the Earl of Richmond the head thereof; who though at his request he were detained in Bretaigne, yet did he not live free from fear of him. The expenses of those times (besides that France did contribute thereunto itself) what was by way of aid given by England, did not much burden the Country, which did abound in men and all things else; the now-expences were to be drawn from England only, which being exhausted by Civil Wars, could not well furnish things needful to so important an Expedition; so as it was great wisdom in Edward, if failed by the Duke, cheated by the Constable, and alured by Lewis with Moneys, Pensions, and chiefly with the promise of so honourable and advantageous a Match, he did withdraw himself, shunning thereby such snares as the contingencies of War might make him fall into, as well at home as abroad. Edward was not well landed when Lewis began to rid his hand of what other business he had to do; which was the Truce with Charles, and the Constable's ruin. The later was now no longer to be evaded: his wife Mary of Savoy, sister to the Queen of France, she who always made up the breaches between her husband and brother-in-law, was dead: and his friends of all sides forsook him, amongst which the Count Dammartin, and Messieurs de Tremoville, and Lude, who were very powerful at Court; so as imagining the King would come to S. Quintines, as he did, he withdrew himself from thence, and abandoned that place, not affying in the Garrison, which immediately yielded up the Town. Passing from hence to Varuins, he there received Charles his Ambassadors, who were come to treat of the Truce, and were waited upon by handsome and well armed Troops. There were in the King's train, besides the English Hostages, many Gentlemen of the same Nation who bore them company; and who wondering to see the Ambassadors so well attended, one of them said to Monsieur de Commines, that if the Duke of Burgundy had been accompanied with such men when he came to Calais, Edward would not so easily have made an Agreement. Monsieur de Narbone who was then present, in a jesting manner replied, They were too simple to believe that the Duke of Burgundy wanted such men as those, but that their desire to return into England Six hundred Tun of Wine, and a Pension, had made them believe any thing. This sort of jesting pleased not the English Gentleman, who answered, that it was true that he had heard that the French gybed at the English; but they might gibe so long, that their being gone might not hinder them from returning back again: and although Monsieur de Commines would have smoothed over the business, the Englishman did notwithstanding complain thereof unto the King, who being of a contrary humour to Narbone, chid him, as detesting his ill-advised indiscretion. After much Dispute, the Truce was at last concluded for nine years; and all who had forfeited their estates by following the contrary party, were suffered to return and take possession of them, except Messieurs de Commines, de Renti, de Chasse, and de Baldwin a Bastard of Burgundy: the Duke, who was inexorable in the behalf of such as had once quitted him, would not be persuaded to suffer them enjoy any such privileges as others did. The chiefest Articles of the Truce were, That the King should renounce his League with the Emperor and City of Collen, should slight some forts, that he should proceed against the Constable by way of justice according to the Treaty of Bovines; that he should restore S. Quintines to the Duke, and that he should not assist the Duke of Lorrein. When Edw. understood that Charles would not accept of the Truce made by him, he sent Sir Tho. Montgomery to entreat Lewis not to make any league with him save what was answerable to that which was made between them two; and that he should not restore unto him S. Quintines; and that if he were to make War against him, he would cross the Seas again to fight on Lewis his behalf on two Conditions: the one, That he should satisfy him for the loss he should have in his Customs of Wools at Calais, which being taken from the Commerce of Dutchmen, who were Charles his Subjects, were worth unto him Fifty thousand Crowns a year; the other, that he should pay half the men which Edward should bring over. But Lewis, thanking him for his offer, said he had already made the same Truce for nine years with him, without any difference save the giving of Letters apart. With this answer did Montgomery return, and together with him the Hostages. But Lewis would never have accepted of this offer, though he had stood in need of it; he thought it ominous to have the English in France; besides, the Commerce with Flanders, and the ancient pretence to France, might haply without much difficulty make Edward join again with Charles against them. The Constable this mean while, finding himself abandoned by them who foreseeing his ruin absented themselves, he knew not what to resolve upon, nor whither to retire himself: he durst not trust himself in Han, though it were a very strong Fort, and for the like occasions so fortified by him, as it was thought almost impregnable, because the Garrison thereof were all Burgonians and French: to flee into Germany with Moneys and Jewels would be dangerous: at last, after many consultations privately with himself, he resolved to have recourse to Charles, to demand safeconduct, and under colour of important affairs to get access to him, and win his ear. Having got it, he went to Mons with not above Fifteen or Twenty Horse, where, contrary to all faith, he was at Lewis his request detained and sent to Peron. The Duke according to the tie of his Articles was either to deliver him up unto the King within eight days after he should be his prisoner, or else to see justice done upon him himself: but he detained him longer, cavilling from one day to another for above the space of a month; not, out of Charity, but for fear lest when the King should have him, he might break his word with him, and hinder him in the taking of Nanci, which he then besieged; but making his account to take it on such a day, he gave order that on the same day he should be delivered to the King's Officers, as he was. Perceiving afterwards that he had cast up his accounts amiss, Nanci holding still out, he revoked his direction the very same day by an express Post, who, though he made all possible haste, came three hours after the Constable was delivered up; who being brought to Paris, examined, and out of his own Letters to the King of England and Duke of Burgundy convinced of high Treason, he was beheaded in the Greve, a place where malefactors are put to death, paying so at once sufficiently what he ought sundry times to have done for his so many deceits. He was descended from the most illustrious Families of Christendom, the Families of Emperors and Kings; allied to the chiefest Princes; son-in-law to the Duke of Sav●…y; brother-in-law to the King of France and Duke of Milan; Uncle to the Queen of England: rich in Fee farms, Copie-holds, Rents, and Moneys; but so full of tricks, ambition, perfidiousness, and deceit, as nothing but ruin could betid him: whereas, had he served Burgundy and France with such loyalty as he ought to have done, amongst Princes he would have been thought worthy of the title of a Prince, and amongst Captains, been esteemed one of the chiefest of his time. His father had served England, and so had he; but leaving her in the recess of her Fortune, he became one of Charles his favourites, (than Count Carolois) and was not likely to have fallen from thence; but an ambition having brought him to the eminent place of Constable, the next man to the King in France, Generalissimo of his Forces, and at whose command even Princes did obey; enriched, besides his Office, with Pensions and Commands; there remained nothing more for him to covet, had he not (like sick men) by longing after what was hurtful for him (contaminating his faith and honour) put a period to his life and honour. In this many err: increase of honour or riches, causes still a thirsting after more: such examples have been before and since the Constable, and shall be as long as the world endures: for the avarice and ambition of such as come to what they formerly were not, makes them see amiss; and whilst they think to go beyond the period of their Fortunes, thinking to transport it from its natural circle to an imaginary one, (as he who should think to pass from the Sphere of the Moon to that of the Sun; for that, as it is of a larger circumference, so is it of a more elevated and lasting efficacy) they in their passage tumble down headlong, and break their necks. Happy is he who possessing the favour of his Prince with temperance, enjoys an alway-permanent Fortune, grounded upon the justice and integrity of his own actions; and if he prove not as rich as Croesus, yet need he not to be ashamed of his riches; which if they be but small, the greater sign 'tis of their being well come-by: whilst the Prince's favour, the testimony of a good conscience, and the being able to do good to others, are the most glorious and most advantageous riches the world affords. In such extraordinary Fortunes, 'tis better to sympathise with Agrippa and Maecenas then with Sejanus. Edward's Ship had cast Anchor in a place secure from all winds 1475. save such as blew from Bretaigne, which were those alone that were able to split or overwhelm her. He enjoyed his estate with out the disturbance of foreign enemies by means of the new Treaty with France: Burgundy's enmity did no ways trouble him; for though the desire of subduing Lorrein, and the humour of provoking the Swissers (which cost him his life) had not been predominant in Charles; yet the interest of Flanders (to which Commerce with England was necessary) did secure him. Scotland was in a condition not to be doubted, by reason of the Truce which yet endured, of the quality of her present Government, and her not being stirred up by France, for the most part the first causer of her move. At home he found himself freed of all such as might have harmed him, who were come to their ends either by the Civil Sword, or by the Hangman; wherein he was not sparing. Clemency and faith are banished when Kingdoms are in question: and Kingdoms in contention shut the doors upon all virtues as may cause alteration or suspect. The life of young Henry Earl of Richmond was that alone which did molest him: he could not possibly live content, and attend such pleasures as he was naturally given unto, so long as this worm did gnaw upon his heart: he was the only remaining relic of the House of Lancaster, likely enough to deprive him of his quiet and Kingdom, should he not be taken from the world, whereby himself, his house and children might live secure. He esteemed the good offices he had done the Duke of Bretaigne with the King of France, sufficient to deserve such a favour: he sent unto him three Ambassadors, the chief whereof was Doctor Stillington. They desired the person of the Earl of Richmond in way of Honesty and affection, concealing their cruelty and evil intentions: neither could they proceed otherwise with Francis the ●…econd Duke of Bretaigne, one of the best Princes that Fame celebrated in those times. These made him believe that the King desi●…ous to abolish the enmity of the two Factions, and quiet such spirits as were affectionate to the House of Lancaster, there was no more fitting means to effect this, then by marrying the King's eldest daughter to the forenamed Earl, who was Heir to that House. They desired him to lend his helping hand to so good a work, assuring him that as Bretaigne in former times had found no more advantageous nor more faithful friendship then with England, so should she find it every day more and more, by this obligation of delivering up the person of this Prince. The Marriage did not at the first appear unto the Duke to be the cause of this their so fervent desire; it did not correspond with sense; 'twas a favour not to be expected from an enemy; especially since the Earl himself had never been treated withal therein, nor had heard any news thereof before: but they reiterating their desires, and adding to their efficacy by a great sum of Gold which they presented him withal, he was persuaded to let him go. But they were not well gone for S. Malo where they intended to take Shipping, when the Duke, looking narrowlier into the business, repented the surrender of him. Polydore saith that john Chenlettes, a very upright Gentleman, and therefore beloved of the Duke, was the cause of this: Argentres says the same; but he says he finds it not in the Chronicles of Bretaigne, nor knows he from whence Polydore Virgil hath it. Chenlettes was in the Country when he understood of the Ambassadors coming, and the delivery of the Prince; so as zealous for his Master's honour, he hasted to him to lay before him the blame he was likely to incur by having delivered up the Earl of Richmond (after having received him into his protection) to his chiefest and most cruel enemy: how that the obligations of assisting and giving entertainment one to another was reciprocal amongst Princes; that many of his Predecessors had in the like case been received in England and Flanders, and had tasted the loyalty and nobleness of others in like manner as Richmond ought to taste his; the which if he should not do, his reputation would thereby receive so much the deeper stain, by how much his past-goodnesse and greatness had been to all men known. The taking his Remonstrance in good part, answered, that this his resolution could not redound to his blame, since the Earl was to be the King's son-in-law, and to be readmitted into all his possessions. Che●…let replied, He was deceived; for that the Ambassadors being sure he never would have delivered him but upon fair terms, had made this pretence lest they might have been gainsayed: he told him he had given up the Lamb unto the Wolf, and that he might be sure assoon as he was out of Bretaigne he should be miserably put to death; since the King of England could not bear him any such affection contrary to his own pretended end: That the King was not so simple as to marry his daughter to an enemy who laid claim unto the Kingdom; nor was it likely he could believe that▪ Affinity would root out Jealousies, but rather increase, so as it would not make for him to nurse up this Adder in his bosom. The Duke listened to these reasons, and finding them to be true, commanded Peter Landois his Treasurer, who by chance was then present, to post after the Ambassadors, and (come what come will) to bring back the Earl. He found them ready to embark themselves at S. Malo, and the Earl sick of a violent Fever occasioned by the apprehension of his approaching death: He told them the Duke was surprised by their request; that every honest man would blame him for it; that he could not deliver unto them this Gentleman without a great stain to his reputation; that therefore the Duke desired them they would be pleased he might put such Guards upon him (the which he promised to do) as that he might not go out of that Sanctuary whither by reason of their unadvisedness he had had recourse (the Earl had taken this Sanctuary by the secret means of Peter's servants) or that if he did, he would put him in so safe a place as Edward should have no occasion to fear him. The Ambassadors were not well pleased, after having found him out, and paid for it, to lose both cost and labour. But they durst not complain thereof; the Earls promised imprisonment being of more worth than their charges. And though the King was thereat displeased, yet the belief he gave to the Kings promise freed him of that suspicion, which likewise freed him of all other trouble; so as according to his humour he gave himself up to all familiarity; yea, sometimes with such as were far unfitting company for him. He invited the Mayor and Aldermen of London a hunting; he ate and drank with them, and at the same time presented their Wives with Venison and Wine, to the end that they might likewise recreate themselves: the which though it relished too much of familiarity, yet was it not prejudicial, since used to such as might be serviceable to him. As there is no better means to win upon men's affections than affability; so when it falls into excess, it causeth such a loathing as quantity of meat causeth to weak-stomacked people. He was not sparing of himself to any whatsoever woman, he had three Concubines besides such by whom he had had children: 'twas usually said when men would be bold with him, that, the one of them was delightful, the other wild or fantastical; the third, holy; who was so termed, because she could not be drawn from forth the Church, but when sent for by him. But natures too much given to the pleasures of Sense, are, if they be offended, bitter in resentment: For example; as he was hunting in Warwick shire in the Park of one Thomas Burdet who was servant to his Brother the Duke of Clarence, amongst many other Deer, he slew a white Buck which Burdet made much account of, insomuch as (not knowing how otherwise to be revenged) he wished the horns in the King's belly. This wish was adjudged Treason; and he, together with his white Buck, lost his head and all that he had. I must spend the year 1476 in the misfortunes of Charles Duke of Burgundy, since England was then unemployed, and his affairs 1476 altered the face of business amongst Princes. Charles answerable to the Agreement made with King Lewis, had received S. Quintines, Han, Bohaine, and all the Constables movable goods, together with the shame of having under trust betrayed him: his brain full of vast designs, bore him to difficult undertake, which chewed by imaginary confidence, caused in him such evil digestion as we shall see. His first wrath and the first expressions thereof were against Renatus Duke of Lorrein; wherein succeeding luckily, as in the taking of Nanci and the rest of that Duchy, he was blown up to fresh undertake. Because the Swissers had assaulted Burgundy, and had taken many places under james Count de Romont Brother to the Duke of Savoy, whilst he was at the siege of Nuz, he resolved at one and the same time to revenge his own and the others injuries: nor could they pacify him, though they offered to renounce all other Confederacies; namely, that of France; for the heavens having ordained him to ruin, did obdurate him in the wilfulness of his obstinate humours; making him deaf to all honourable and advantageous offers. He entered their Country with Five thousand fight men; he took Iverdon; besieged Granson, where Four hundred Swissers of the Canton of Berne not able to defend it, retired themselves into the Castle; they yielded it up, their lives saved; but not observing the Agreement, Eighty of them were hanged, Two hundred drowned, and the rest put to ransom, whilst Eighteen thousand of the same Nation were come in unto their succour. The Duke taking it in disdain that they durst raise their Colours against him set upon them forthwith; he lost the Battle, his Artillery and Baggage, the particulars whereof were by him esteemed at three Millions of Gold, in Tapestry, Silver vessels, and Jewels, which for ostentation and pomps sake he had taken along with him. This was the first of his three mortal misfortunate blows which (not being accustomed thereto) made him fall sick: this sickness changed his constitution and nature; insomuch as where before he drank nothing but water boiled, and used Conserve of Ros●… to qualify his natural heat, his melancholy had now so much cooled him, that his Physicians made him drink lusty Wines with out water, and applied Cupping-glasses to his heart to heat hi●… and excite blood; but, what is most remarkable, his Senses were hereat so weakened, as that his Judgement was disquieted; so as the blow which would have infused understanding into any one not totally void thereof, did not so to him who was become in capable of it. Gathering therefore greater Forces, he went with Eighty thousand fight men to besiege Morat a Town not very great, some two leagues distant from Berne, belonging to Cou●… Romont, but usurped by the Swissers. The Swissers came to the succour thereof with Thirty thousand Foot, and Four thousand Horse, accompanied by the Duke of Lorrein; they gave Battle▪ and though the Duke's Artillery made very great breaches upon their Battalions, yet did they not break not stop thereupon; but making good the empty places, they passed on, cutting in piece very many of his men, and making the rest either run away o●… drown themselves in the Lake; the Duke with much ado saving himself. In my Travels thorough those Country's, I have see●… the relics of that Victory. If my memory deceive me not, there is upon the brink of the Lake a Chapel, near unto which lies a great heap of dead men's bones; but there having perished in the Battle Eighteen thousand, and as some will have it Two and twenty thousand, methought those bones, though very many, were not answerable to so great a number. Here I was like wise told, and the place was showed me where Charles on horseback swum over the Lake, and where one of his Footmen fastening himself to his Master's horses tail, assoon as he came ●…n shore was by Charles slain for having endangered his drowning, since 'twas sufficient for a horse to swim so far with an armed man upon his back, without the dragging another at his tail. But I meet not with this relation in any History. He retired himself to Rivieres upon the confines of Burgundy, where he lived secretly six weeks, in which time the Duke of Lorrein being come to the Siege of Nanci, the Town was surrendered to him two days before Charles came thither, from whom they had demanded succour, and expected his coming till the last minute. The Duke of Lorrein, who found himself weak, would not contest with him; but leaving him to besiege the Town again, retired himself for aid to the Swissers, from whom he had forthwith what he desired: for King Lewis paid to him Forty thousand Franks for this end; and many French came Volunteers to him: with this Army he came to S. Nicholas Two Leagues distant from Nanci, in the coldest Winter-season that had been known many years before. Charles his Army was in a very bad condition, and became yet worse when the Count de Campo Basso, a Neapolitan, and of the Aniovin-Faction, and therefore banished that Kingdom, had relinquished him, having had intelligence long before with the Duke of Lorrein; but when he would with his men have come over, the Swissers abhorring the assotiation of a Traitor, would not admit of him. Charles seeing his affairs brought to so bad an exigent, (contrary to his custom) listened after the opinion of others: he was advised not to fight, since his men were few and no ways valiant, he not having, upon a true Muster, Twelve hundred good men: they advised him to retire to Pont-Mousson; since the Duke of Lorrein being only able to victual the Town for a small time, and the Swissers being likely to depart for want of pay, he might with a better choice of men return thither the next Spring. A most excellent counsel, had he embraced it; but he would fight. The Conflict was short; a handful of men wearied with a Siege, disheartened by former Defeats; and by the present unadvisedness the readier now again to be defeated; many of them were cut in pieces, many fled away, and but few of them were saved: the Duke endeavoured to save himself, but was slain in his flight, wounded twice by the Pike and once by the Halberd; he was rifled and left naked, not known by any one save somewhile after by a Page of his by certain private marks; for it was impossible to know him by his face. The circumstances of this Defeat are at large set down by Commines and the French Writers, to whom I refer myself. I may perchance touch upon something again in its proper place, whilst returning for the present to our Story, we shall meet with a Tragical adventure, no less strange nor compassionate then what we have but now heard. The Duke of Clarence, second brother to King Edward, a Prince of greater spirit than did become a brother and a subject, 1477 ended his days in the Tower, leaving it to dispute whether his death were occasioned through his own default, or through the Malice of his enemies: for though he were condemned by ordinary course of Justice, yet was there not any one full fault found in him; so as it was thought there was nothing of Justice in it more than the name; and that Malice was indeed that which took away his life. Three things were of most consideration in this affair: The King's Suspicion, The Queen's Hatred and Suspicion, and His own Fault, which was not sufficient to have condemned him, had it not been for the former Two. His having rebelled, made Confederacy with the Earl of Warwick; and contracted Alliance with him, to bereave his brother of the Kingdom, were faults which though they were old, and freely forgotten, 'twas feared that his old inclinations, laid aside more in respect of his own concernment then out of reason or love to his brother, might be reassumed by him, and he thereunto provoked by pretence of the Agreement made at Paris, that he should succeed unto the Crown, if Henry the sixth his Heirs should fail, as already they had done. This consideration wounded the Queen to the very soul; she thought that if her husband should die before her, her children should not succeed to their father: she was confirmed in this opinion by a Prophecy I know not how divulged, That G should be the first letter of his name that should succeed Edward; and the Duke of Clarence his name being George, 'twas thought he should be the Butcherer of Edward's sons, which Gloucester afterwards proved to be. With such like equivocations doth the devil delude our simplicity, if it be granted that he knows any thing of what is to come. To these were other reasons added which made the former the more suspected: his having pretended to marry Mary the only daughter to the late Duke of Burgundy; and indeed he had written to that effect to the Dowager Duchess who was mother-in-law to the said Mary: but the Queen crossed him therein, and did what in her lay to have her married to her brother the Earl Rivers: so as their distastes and the King's jealousies were augmented: But the imputations which gave some colour to the justification of this his death, were, That he caused a rumour to be raised among the people that Thomas Burdet was unjustly put to death; That the King used Necromancy and Poison, to bring such as he hated to their ends; That Edward was a Bastard, and not begotten by the Duke of York; That he had procured many to swear obedience to him and his Heirs, not reserving the due obedience he ought unto his Brother; and That he had pretended to the Crown by virtue of the Contract made with Henry the sixth. These Accusations being brought into the Parliament, and by 1478 the Parliament judged guilty thereof, he was condemned to die; and chose, as the easiest death, to be drowned in a Butt of Malmsey. But howsoever, 'twas generally thought that the malice of his enemies, the Queens and her kindred's fears, and the King's jealousy, were the causes of his so miserable end: of the which Edward did afterwards repent, insomuch as when he pardoned the life of any at the importunacy of some one or other, he was wont to say, O my unfortunate brother, that had not any to intercede for him! He left behind him two children born unto him by the Earl of Warwick daughter; Edward Earl of Warwick's, and Margaret Countess of Salisbury; both of them born under the like unfortunate Constellation; for He lost his head in Henry the sevenths' time, She hers, in Henry the eights. King Lewis, when Charles was dead, thought to make himself master of those States; believing he could not meet with any obstacle, since all the men of War were almost slain in the three Battles of Granson, Morat, and Nanci: neither had he been deceived, if he had persisted in his resolution of marrying that Princess to the Dolphin his son; of working upon her Counsellors by gifts, promises, and additions of Honours; and of winning the people's goodwill by feeding them with hopes of being well treated: but his thirsting after this Conquest (which to him appeared easy) diverted him from the means of coming by it lawfully, and was the ruin if not of all, yet of his most principal designs. Abbeville was the first City which fell into his hands, but as of right belonging unto him, being one of those which were to be surrendered to him after Charles his death. Han, Bohin, S. Quintines, and Peron, out of the same reason, did the like. Arras was by agreement delivered up unto him. He●…ine, Bullein and Douai yielded themselves. All this progress of affairs appertained to Picardy. In Burgundy he employed the Prince of Orange (a man of great power in those parts) and Monsieur de Cranmer with a distinct Army, who in a few days brought the County and Duchy to his obedience: Neither did he pretend usurpation in this; the Duchy was the Patrimony of the Crown; given in Fee-farm to Philip the bold, by his father john the second, King of France, upon condition it should revert again unto the Crown in default of Issue male: such Grants not falling (according to the French phrase) unto the Distaff. And he had some pretences to the County, though not from the Crown. The Infant Princess seeing herself thus hardly dealt withal, all her Embassies, Supplications and Submissions nothing availing her, she sent a Dispatch into England to show to Edward what prejudice he suffered by having the King of France so near him, possessed of Abbeville, Bullein, Hedine, Arras, and other places upon the Sea near Calais, and in the face of England. But though in all reason he ought to have assisted her, his private interest made him notwithstanding be a Spectator of all those ruins without budging: his Counsellors being almost all of them Pensioners to Lewis, preferred private interest before all reason of State. Edward (though) sent Ambassadors to mediate that no more harm might be done; a very good means certainly, before a Prince hath put on a resolution of War; but as ridiculous as unprofitable without a man's sword in his hand. The hopes of marrying his daughter, the Fifty thousand Crowns which were ready to be paid, and his chief men being won by Pensions, were the obstacles which withstood all good Resolves. Lewis received the Ambassadors courteously, and was bountiful to them at their going away; so sent them away without any answer, the which, he said, he would send by Ambassadors of his own, who a good while after were sent with directions to spin out the business, upon pretences of having no Instructions; working by this means his own desired ends, and hindering Edward from doing (had he been so disposed) what he ought to have done: and though many free from corruption advised him to the contrary, showing the damage he thereby received without any hopes of advantage; (for if Lewis had any mind to make the Marriage; he would have sent for the Princess away, after the first year, according to the Treaty sworn at Picquigny, divers years being now past, and she not sent for) yet were they not listened unto. Any the least obstacle (to boot with the defence made by the Infant Princess) would have been sufficient to have made Lewis keep within his own Precincts; and if nothing else, his unwillingness to see the English in France, would have slackened his proceedings; and though he invited Edward to pass over into Flanders, whilst he busied himself elsewhere, and seemed to be content that the English might win Flanders and Brahant for themselves; he did it for that he was sure, by reason of the many strong places that were there, they would make but a slow and costly progress: and when Edward seemed to accept of this invitation, if in stead of such places as he should win in Flanders Lewis would deliver unto him those he had won in Picardy (namely Bullein) no more was heard of the business. Edward would willingly have assisted the Princess if she would have married the Earl Rivers brother to his wife; and she needing assistance, would have married him; but the disparity of their conditions would not permit her Counsellors to suffer her so to do: so as Lewis found none that crossed his Fortunes, nor she any that would assist her in her misery, which made her conclude the Match with the Archduke Maximilian son to the Emperor Frederick the third, not listening to any other that was propounded to her: not to that of the Dolphin, for that he was but nine years old, and she twenty or one and twenty; and for that she hated his father: not to that of Charles Count d'Angoulesme (who was afterward father to Francis the first) because Lewis would not consent thereunto, being jealous of the Princes of the blood's power: not to that of the Prince of Cleve, because she liked him not. Edward had this mean while prodigiously altered his nature: from being affable and liberal, he became austere and a varitious, 1479 to the great wonder and worse satisfaction of his people. The Laws of England grant many things in favour of their Kings (as their penal Laws) which the Kings themselves make no use of, as being too full of rigour. He by virtue of those Laws took such penalties as those that were rich fell into by their not punctual observance of them: and making no difference neither in respect of Blood, Quality, or Title, he put the Kingdom into a great fright, making them believe he would become formidable: for having abated the courage of other men by his Brother's death, there was not any one that durst contradict him. But the greedy heaping up of Money, which he used was so much the more monstrous in him, by how much it was contrary to the constitution of his nature: so as such a change showed his death to be at hand. Ambassadors were frequently sent from England to France, 1480 and from France to England: the former, that according to their Obligation, the French might send for the betrothed Princess; the others, to excuse their delay, laying it upon the Wars of Burgundy and the Low-countrieses, in the which all the principal men of the Kingdom being employed, she could not be sent for in manner becoming the dignity and greatness of both the Crowns: so as he who earnestly desires a thing, is by nothing more easily deceived then by the confirmation of new promises; Edward did easily believe, and Lewis made advantage of his falsehood, and brought about his ends without contradiction: which had he carried the business otherwise, he could not have done. But he who says the English have won more honour by Fight then by their Treaties, says not amiss; for they are more aptly disposed to the former. At this time did james the third reign in Scotland; who coming 1481 to the Crown at seven years of age, met with lewd education and most villainous corrupters; so as not being wicked of himself, but made so by them, as he grew in years, he increased in his lusts, cruelties and rapine, and rewarding the authors of his Disorders by the sale of Goods belonging to the Church, he purchased the hatred of his Nobility, and of his whole Kingdom. From these his excesses he did not exempt his own Family: he dealt badly with his brother, and incestuously violated his youngest sister: he let slip the opportunity he had to trouble England, it being divided within itself, and was himself vexed by his subjects; the worm of conscience not working upon him in the cessation of his Rebellions, not yet the fear of such pains as Heaven inflicts for punishment upon incorrigible sinners. Tthese things for what concerned him: And for what concerned Edward, his jealousies of the Lancastrian Faction, caused their peaceful living together, even from the very beginning of their Reigns, thorough a Truce of Fifteen years: but the Truce being now well-nigh expired, and james having put one of his brothers to death, and imprisoned the other, which was the Duke of Aubeny, thinking he could not defend himself against his domestic enemies without fastening himself to strangers, he was desirous to interest Edward in the conservation of his Dignity and Person. To this purpose he demanded Cicely Edward's second daughter for wife to his son james Prince of Scotland; and he obtained it with this Condition, That though the Marriage could not yet be consummated (both of them being children) Edward should pay down part of the portion; for the repayment of which, in case the Marriage should not go on, he had the chiefest Merchants of Edinburgh bound. The King of Scotland thought himself now to be safe by this shadowy Alliance; but the Duke of Aubeny having escaped out of prison by means of a Cord made of linen, and made his Addresses to Lewis; who would not receive him (for he held some secret Intelligence with james against Edward) he passed over into England; where having represented the King his brother's general injustice, to make him appear wicked, and his particular injustice to his brothers, to make his wickedness appear unnatural and cruel: he prayed aid of Edward; and his entreaties were made the more efficacious, being accompanied by those of james Douglas (who was likewise a banished man) which moved the King to wage War with him; whereunto he could not have been persuaded, had not King james himself given him the occasion. Lewis, who, having covenanted another Match for the Dolphin, thought Edward could not choose but be revenged; endeavoured to divert him, by making the King of Scotland engage him in a War; and the King of Scotland persuaded thereunto either by hopes, or Moneys, or both, violated his late-made Affinity and Peace, not regarding the injustice and dishonour of the action, nor yet the danger he put himself into, he being so detested both by God and man, and not able to raise Forces without the assistance of his Country; yet affying more in France then he had reason to do, he did what of himself he was able, to please Lewis. He sent some Troops to make Inroads upon the Confines of England, which did rather provoke then harm the enemy: so as Edward finding himself enforced and offended on the one side, and humbly entreated on the other side, he raised a powerful Army, and sent it into Scotland under the command of his brother the Duke of Gloucester. King james had not the like ability to resist as he had to irritate; for being abused by the flatteries of three wicked personages who had drawn upon him the general hatred of all men, he durst not gather the whole Nobility into a Body, lest being united they might take some strange resolution against him. Necessity, notwithstanding, constrained him to summon them and raise an Army, not altering though the form of his Government; for mistrusting all the rest, he made use only of the Counsels of his forenamed flatterers, not calling his Nobility to any Counsel or Deliberation: an indignity which they not able to endure, they met together a little after midnight in a Church, where, being persuaded by Archibald Douglas Earl of Angus, they would have the first War made against these men, as those that were their Country's most dangerous enemies: and had not the wiser sort moderated the more hasty, the King might have run hazard in his own person. The chiefest of them went towards the Court not making any noise, followed only by as many as might serve to do the business. The King was advertised of this Meeting at the same time 'twas made; so as rising up hastily to see what was to be done, he sent Robert Cockeran one of the Triumvirs, to make discovery; but being met by them, they detained him, set a Guard upon him, and passed on to the Court, and to the King's Chamber, seizing without any manner of resistance upon all such as were about the King, except john Ramsey for whom the King interceded, and who being very young, was not polluted with their enormities: The rest were led into the Camp, where (the Army crying out that they might be put to death) they were all hanged without any legal proceeding; and not having any Ropes in readiness for so sudden an execution, each man strove to make offer of his horse's halter or reins; and those whose offers were entertained, thought themselves much honoured thereby. This business bred such a difference between the King and his subjects, as each of them retired themselves to their own homes, not thinking any longer to defend the Kingdom: and the King, with some few others, did to little purpose shut themselves up in the Castle of Edinburgh: for had they been evilly minded towards him, they would have taken him in the Lander, the place where this business happened. The Summer was well advanced before the Duke of Gloucester entered Scotland; he laid siege to the Castle of Berwick defended 1482 by the Earl Bodwel, the Town having yielded to him without resistance: he would not lose the season by staying there himself, but environing it with Four thousand fight men, he passed forwards to Edinburgh, not permitting (through the Duke of Aubeney's desires) any harm to be done there; a contrary course to what had been formerly taken: and because it was impossible to treat with King james, who did not suffer any one to come into the Castle, he made a public Proclamation to be made in the chief Market place by Garter King at Arms, that if he would not make good to Edward what under his hand he was by agreement obliged unto; if he did not before September next make satisfaction for the damages and injuries done to England; and did not put the Duke of Aubeny in his former condition without the diminishing of his Possessions, Authority, or Offices, he would put his whole Kingdom to fire and sword. But the King returning no Answer, neither by message nor writing, being equally unfit either to give satisfaction or make resistance; the Nobles (who had encamped themselves at Haddington with a great number of men) being abandoned by the King, and not willing to abandon themselves and Country, sent Ambassadors to the Duke of Gloucester, offering, for what belonged to them, to effect the Marriage, and requiring the like of him: promising that it should not fail on their sides, if all the Articles agreed upon were not put in execution, and an inviolable Peace for the time to come were not made between the two Kingdoms. To the which Gloucester answered, that the Match was broken by means contrary to the end for which it was made: That he did not know the King his brother's intentions, and whether he was not resolved (as he had good cause) not to think any more of it: That his Instructions were, To demand restitution of the Moneys, the which he did, requiring speedy payment: for what concerned the Peace, That it was not to be had, unless they would promise to deliver up unto him the Castle of Berwick, or unless in case they could not do it, they would oblige themselves not to assist the besieged, nor molest the besiegers, till such time as it were either taken or surrendered. These Demands seemed very hard to the Scots. They answered; The cause why the Marriage was not effected, was by reason of the young couples years, not through any default of theirs: That the Moneys could not justly be demanded, the time of repayment being not yet come: That if the security given in for the repayment of them did not suffice, they would give in other: That Berwick was situated upon the very Bound of Scotland, built by the Scots, and by just Title always possessed by them; nor was their claim thereunto the weaker because the English had made themselves Masters of it, since violence doth not prejudice the right of a just ancient, natural and primary possession. But the Duke of Aubeny put an end to all these differences; for Gloucester permitting him to go into the Scotish Camp, and the Lords there promising him that if he would submit himself to the King, they would procure his pardon, and the restitution of all his goods; he was declared, under the King, Lord Lieutenant of the Kingdom; and it was resolved (though not without much opposition) that the Castle of Berwick should be surrendered; and a Truce for certain months was agreed upon, to the end that the Peace might be treated on without disturbance o●… hostility; so as the Duke of Gloucester having recovered Berwick One and twenty years after Henry the sixth had given it to the Scots, he retired himself to Newcastle, where he expected directions from his brother: who having weighed the concernment of this Match, the King's decaying condition, the danger he was in of being deposed (he being hated, and the Duke of Aubeny beloved) he demanded his Moneys, which were forthwith paid him, leaving Scotland to its turmoils, the which though the Duke of Aubeny did sincerely endeavour to quiet, by remitting the King his brother to the plenary possession of his Kingdom, yet could he not reconcile the King unto him. For if the remembrance of injuries be never to be forgotten by men of perverse natures, good turns are the more easily forgotten: ingratitude being an enemy to all Christian and Moral virtues. King james his mind was so contaminated and depraved, as it would not suffer him to think well of his brother, though the effects demonstrated the contrary; nay, he was likely to have made him follow his other brother, had he not by his friends been advertised thereof, which made him flee into England; from whence (having delivered up to Edward the Castle of Dunbarre) he went to France, where running at Tilt with the Duke of Orleans (who was afterwards Lewis the twelfth) he was unfortunately slain by the splinter of a Lance which wounded him thorough the sight-hole of his Helmet. Edward had long suffered Lewis to take his advantage not only 1483 in such parts of the Heir of Burgundy's Country as were far distant from him, but even in those which were near to Calais; permitting him, contrary to all reason of State, to make himself master of Bullein, and other Forts upon the Sea, only out of the hopes of his Daughter's marriage: but growing too late suspicious of it, he sent the Lord Howard to France to sift out the truth: who though he saw the solemn receiving of Margaret, Daughter to the late heir of Burgundy, and Maximilian of Austria; and saw her married to the Dolphin in Amboyse, yet when he took his leave, Lewis according to his wont dissimulation, confirmed unto him his former promises, as if a new match contracted with all the Church-Ceremonies and the Bride in the house did not prejudice the former, so as being returned to England he truly related the difference of what his Eyes saw and Lewis told him. Lewis had handled this match according to his wont craft not seeming to be therein obliged to those of Gaunt, who had concluded it maugre their Prince, the Bride's Father, and they did it willingly; for taking from him the Counties of Artois, Burgundy, and Carolois, the Counties of Macon, and Auxorres, which they gave in portion to the Dolphin, they made him the less able to offend them; they would likewise, if they could, have given him Hainault and Namours, not considering that these Provinces in the hands of so great a King were like to form the chain of their servitude. But Fortune favoured them beyond all expectation; for this marriage so advantageous for that Kingdom was together with the Bride, yet a Virgin, not many Years after, renounced by Charles the eight, that he might take to Wife Anne the Daughter and Heir of Francis Duke of Britain, and thereby to possess himself of that Dukedom: and the aforenamed Margaret, borne under an unhappy constellation for matter of Husbands, was in a very short time Widow to three; To Charles' who did yet live, and to two others who died; john Prince of Arragon, who lived not many months; and Philibert the 8th Duke of Savoy who within a few Years died; so as she had no issue by any of them. Edward was so sensible of this his great abuse as that he resolved on revenge: every one with cheerfulness provided for War; the Clergy supplied in moneys what they could not do in person: but whilst he was taking order for so important an expedition, he fell sick being suddenly struck with a great melancholy (others say of a Surfeit) and knowing he could not live he caused all the Lords to be sent for to him, who by reason of the intended War, were then in great number at Court. He recommended to them the young Princes his Sons and together with them Peace; showing them that being young they would need good Counsellors, which in the distraction of private contentions would hardly be found; that they having all a relation unto him, some by blood, some by affinity, all by good will and duty, they were to join in a reciprocal love one towards another, to the end that the conformity of their minds might beget the like in their actions, and in their ends, necessarily conducing to the service of an infant King, to the good of the Kingdom, and to the peace and quietness which he did chiefly desire amongst them; he put them in mind of the evils caused through civil dissensions; he desired God of his goodness that no such might be hereafter, but that this favour was not to be hoped for without the forgiving of past injuries which made him in the name of the same God, and as the last comfort he should receive, desire of them all forgiveness of any injuries done by him. All that were present wept; and those who bore more rancour one to an other than did the rest, shook hands in token of their last obedience due unto him even to the last minute of his Life: so as satisfied with this their outward expression (their inward minds unknown) he died the ninth of April 1483, in the 41 Year of his Life, having Reigned 22 Years one month and five days: and was buried in a Chapel, built by him at Windsor. He was a Prince who could not have had his like had he not been vitiated with the contagion of civil factions; the gifts of mind and nature strove for priority in him: He was of all men the handsomest; and of all fortunate men the most valiant: having in as many Battles as he fought always had the Victory. He had by his Wife three Sons and eight Daughters: his third Son died an Infant; we shall shortly hear of the compassionable end of the other two. Of his Daughters; Elizabeth was married to Henry the Seventh Cecily to Viscount Wells and after to another, but had issue by neither: Anne, to Thomas Howard Duke of Norfolk, whose children died all young. Bridget was a Nun in Dartford; Mary promised to the King of Denmark, died before the Marriage; Margaret died young. Catharine was married to William Courtney Earl of Devonshire, to whom she bore Henry marquis of Exeter, and he had Edward E. of Devonshire, who died without issue in Milan the Year 1556; and Elizabeth died young. Besides these his legitimate children, he left behind, two Bastards, Arthur Plantagenet, Viscount Lisle, and Elizabeth; Arthur had three Daughters: and of Elizabeth is come the L. Lomley. The end of Edward the Fourths Life. THE SEVENTH BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND In the Life of Edward the fifth. I Now should write the Life of Edward the fifth, Son to the last deceased King, as I have done the Lives of the rest; but he being taken from this World in less than three Months, by such cruelty, as greater hath not been heard off, I have not whereout to frame a History: in lieu thereof, I will write the Duke of Gloucester his wickednesses, which are such as may raise a doubt, whether cruelty be an habit of Nature in man, or rather a raging fury: since Nature in her operations doth nothing in vain; and such Beasts as live not by Rapine, kill not other beasts for Preys sake, as he to devour the Kingdom slew his Nephews. But considering that there is not any Creature which is not in some sort addicted to this vice, I believe it proceeds from two causes, the one useful and necessary which is Self-defence, and wherein habit consists; the other vain and harmful, which is the coveting of superiority (a passion more prevalent in men then in other creatures) and this is fury; whence if the World were void of ambition, or other differing qualities, it is not thereout to be averred that the strongest would not insult upon the weaker, as always they have done: the which being manifest, bruit beasts declaring it by their examples, it is much more proved so to be when we take into consideration the inaequality of Fortune and Honour. Many were the causes of the cruelty whereof we are to treat, since practised in sundry manners; (War not cast into the account) To kill Beasts, to punish Malefactors, are permitted and commanded by the rules of Government; but what ariseth from private hatred, is by the Laws condemned, though through the corruption of affection, or frailty of humour, executed by men. Butchers and Hunters kill cattle, and wild beasts; which should they not do, the beasts would devour us; and through the great increase of beasts, and their destroying of the ground, we might be famished: did not the Executioner put a period to the lives of such as are condemned, our lives and livelyhoods would lie at the mercy of evil livers. But the enemy which kills his enemy, though, in itself considered, the fact be inexcusable, rests yet excused. Sudden chances, puntillios of honour, and injuries for which satisfaction is not to be given, do so far incense men, as humane nature may seem somewhat to Analogize with cruelty; since though it be absolutely to be abhorred, it is not absolutely condemned. Now that Richard Duke of Gloucester a Prince by birth, an uncle by nature, and by the Laws a protector, should become the Butcher, the hangman, the enemy of Edward the Fifth, and of his Brother, being his Nephews, is yet somewhat more; which not falling under the capacity of humane fury befell him having disrobed himself of humanity and nature. Of all execrable examples he is the only one without parallel. All cruelties mentioned of the Ancients are, in comparison of his, mere inventions, not true events. Nature in the framing of such subjects doth usually transgress her ordinary rules; to put a difference between them and others; to the end that having set a mark upon them, we may the better know how to be aware of them; she allots them awkward and disproportioned shapes, thereby intimating unto us that being crooked and falsely shaped, their works are false, and their inclinations crooked. This Richard came into the World with his feet forward, his Mother was cut up, yet outlived him: she brought him forth deformed; insomuch as, his brethren being the handsomest and most comely men of that age, he was the most misshapen that those times produced. He had a cloudy and a despitfull countenance; he was of a low Stature, one of his shoulders was greater than the other; he was malicious, envious, injurious, neither had he any just proportion, save what was from his Extrinsecall to his Internal, so as if a man would have judged of him by the rules of physiognomy, he could not judge amiss if he judged bad enough. For what remains, he was valiant, advised, bold, courageous; praiseworthy qualities, but not in him: since he made no use of them to good ends, but to make his wickedness the greater and more efficacious. It is not, as I believe, to be denied that all bad actions spring from two wicked Mothers, Malice, and Ignorance: wicked actions from malice; from ignorance, such as are common to the simpler sort of people: a difference so much the more to be bemoaned, as that malice increasing by years, and ignorance decreasing, the evil which is caused by the increase of the One, is more detestable, then is the good advantageous which we receive by the decrease of the other: the evil extending itself to objects which are infinite, the good confining itself to the agent which is an individual. Had Richard's actions taken their source from both these, so as a mixed composition might have been made of them, they might in some sort have been tolerable; but being occasioned merely through malice, they were so abominable, as being augmented not only by process of time, but by his thirst after Government they arri●…ed at such a height of wickedness as was not to be outdone. When his brother died, he was in the Northern parts of the Kingdom: it is not known whether his desire of usurping the Kingdom sprung up then in him, or whether he was possessed with it before. Those who believe him to have been formerly possessed therewith, allege for their opinion the death of Henry the sixth, and of the Duke of Clarence; accusing him to be both the Promoter and Executioner of the former, since King Edward was never minded to put him to death, which had he been, he might have found other instruments enough, without making use of his brother. They verify this for that he boasted by means of this parricide he had settled the Crown upon the house of York; for he imagined there was no more left of the house of Lancaster; either for that the Earl of Richmond was only of that house by the mother's side, or else that being out of the Kingdom, and in custody, no account was to be made of him. It is certain had he not formerly had this design, he would not have been the butcher of a King, to settle the succession only upon Edward's Sons; since Edward himself dreamt not of it, who was sufficiently secure of Henry by his imprisonment, and his having no issue: his fears rose not from him, but from the Earl of Richmond. Richard, on the other side feared not the absent Earl, but Henry who was present and had been King. Should he have kept him alive, to have killed him at the same time he killed his Nephews, his scandal would have been the greater: and should he not have killed him, he might have been reestablished. Things which all of them might succeed, his brother's disorders foretokening his death to be at hand. 'Tis related, that Edward being dead by night, a certain man ran presently to a friend of his, who was a servant of Richards, to give him notice of it: who answered; if Edward was dead, his master Richard would be King: which 'tis not likely he would have said, had he not had some inkling of the design. In Clarence his Death 'tis thought that whilst he seemed to favour him, he wrought all he could under hand that he might die. 'Tis clear, that when he was condemned he should have procured his Pardon, and did not: which caused Edward in vain afterwards to complain, that others had such as would intercede for their Lives, but His poor Brother could find none to mediate for his: so as to meet with the truth, I think 'tis best to judge the worst. The cunning of all other Architects, who might perhaps have omitted some One thing which he did not, would not, have sufficed to have perfected so difficult a building; rather he being so excellent in doing evil, it had been a wonder if he had not done it. For his Ambition being thereby to be satisfied as well as his Cruelty (the springs from whence did flow his other vices) should he have refused it, men might have thought the soul of Socrates had been transmigrated into his body; since that Socrates being naturally given to all vices, abstained from thence merely out of the Love of virtue; which was not reason sufficient to make Him to abstain from vice, though, being borne a Christian, he might better do it then Socrates: for Evangelicall virtues, as they are more excellent, so do they more incite to well-doing then Moral; but these transmigrations being but fables, and he, if not altogether abandoned by his good Genius, at least not sufficiently admonished thereby, as was Socrates, it is no wonder if he died the same that he was borne; who never took delight in any thing but in the plotting of mischief: nay it had been less trouble to Him to have fought against whatsoever well armed enemy, then to have withstood the weakest of his lewd inclinations. Many were the difficulties which in this business were to be overcome; the means two: Cruelty, and Infamy. Through Cruelty he was to put his Nephews to Death, neither was that All: their Sisters were yet to succeed before him; and two others; the Son and daughter of the Duke of Clarence; which forced him upon Infamy. To attain to the uppermost Roonge of the Ladder of Government, he must at one leap get thither from the Nethermost: he being the lowest Roonge, and Eight at the least being before him, besides Bridget the Nun at Dartford. But in wickedness there is no difficulty which may not be overcome by Him, who having Power and Malice, hath not Honour nor Conscience to restrain him. He at first resolved to govern himself according to the Fable: the Wolf could not hope to get the flock into his power, did he nor first possess himself of the Dogs which were its defence. The King before his Death had sent Prince Edward into Wales, to the end that his presence might reduce that people to their duties, which though they were not Rebels, were yet grown to such disobedience as that their Governors and Magistrates were not able to suppress the great dissensions and Robberies there committed: the disorders of the late War had put them so far out of Tune; that by how much they were farther from the King, they were the like, from Remedy. The Sun beats not with like force upon the Poles, as it doth upon the Zones which Neighbour upon his beams. A wise foresight. For Wales being very affectionate to the title of their Principality (a memory of their ancient Liberty and Dominion) showed such obedience at the coming of their Prince, though but a Child, as they had not formerly done to their ancient Magistrates. The King had appointed to him for his Governor, his Uncle, the Earl Rivers, Brother to the Queen, a wise and valiant man; he had likewise given him for his attendants almost none save such as were of Her kindred; to the end that when he should die, she, by their assistance, might the better preserve herself against the Duke's authority and force. A wise foresight too; but which succeeded ill: for this extraordinary preferment, as it made them be hated and envied, so was it the cause of their Ruin. The Queen and her Brother Rivers had declared themselves enemies to the Lord Chamberlain Hastings: the Queen reputing him to be an instrument of her Husband's disorders; and Rivers, for that the King having promised unto him the Governors' place of Calais, had recalled his word, to bestow it upon Hastings: so as Edward doubting lest these distastes might breed an ill effect in his Son's service (though not the very bad one which it did produce) did on his Deathbed make that exhortation to Peace which hath been said; at the which (Rivers, who was gone with the Prince into Wales, not being present) the marquis, Dorset Son to the Queen by the first Husband, did in his Uncle's behalf shake hands with Hastings: both parties having the same end in this Act, which was to satisfy the King, but not to make a real friendship: for Hatred had taken formerly so great a rooting, as there was no place left for true Friendship. All these things made for Glocesters designs; wherein not likely to prosper but by their ruin (since in process of time 'twas likely they would be equally His enemies) he thought that by setting them together by the ears they would undo one another, and that the one of them being borne down would make way to the others overthrow. But the sequel showed; that such fabrics of Government as are grounded on machinations, are for the most part ruinous. And if there were no other proof of this: to live free from suspicion and to secure one's self from successive contentions, within the Haven of a quiet life, aught to weigh against whatsoever Ambition or Avarice can produce: since They afford us nothing but injustice, and the more they be practised, the farther are they from God and Nature, whose chiefest Law is the People's Safety: and if humane mutability enamoured on fantastical opinions hath caused an ear to be lent to such as maliciously and ignorantly have taught the contrary, consider that the Idea propounded by these Doctors is of such Princes as have come to ill ends, not any one of them, by their rules, having had good success. I know that this my opinion will not be embraced by Many; it will suffice me if by a Few, so they be Good: and if any man do believe the World is not to be governed by Philosophy; let him observe that Usurpation and Tyranny are the Folds or Plies of a more intricate philosophy: and as the First, arising from God and Nature, doth by the means of Justice and other virtues lead us to live happily; so the Second procreated by Force and Pride, promise nothing to us but perturbations; Injustice and her attendants producing only such effects as are conformable to themselves. The Duke might easily contrive his design considering the hatred the chiefest Lords bore to the Queen's kindred, so as treating thereof with those that were present, and communicating his mind by writing to those that were absent, he showed them, How that the dangers were remediless if the King's tender years were to be governed by those people: that all Honours and places of Account would be conferred on them: that Their authority would eclipse the authority of all other men; especially if the Son, resembling his Father, (as by some signs already in him might be imagined he would) should suffer himself to be governed by Them; so as in stead of One King they should have many: that old injuries are not apt to be forgotten: that by the increase of authority remembrance thereof would be increased; and that they would pretend offence if they were not more observed then formerly: that the consideration of the Queens no so great blood (being only made worthy of that degree, because the King would have it so) had not made them any whit the less proud; the rather being come to the height of their presumptions, (while the King should be at their disposal) they would become insufferable: they would cloak their covetousness with the Royal Robe; and the Crown, which the King wore only for show, served really to honour Them to the shame of Nobility, and Scorn of the Blood-royal; and though their Birth and the Laws did less privilege Them then Others, (there being so many Lords both by Descent and Desert worthier than They) yet their unlawful Authority was likely to cause such mischief, as the deepest wisdom would not be able to Prevent it, if they were suffered to continue in the same posture they now were in with the King. Whether these persuasions took effect as being apparently useful, or for that Envy was the cause thereof I know not: The first that were hereunto persuaded, was the Duke of Buckingham and Hastings the Lord Chamberlain; who, though they were not very great Friends, the likelier were they to join in Enmity against the Others. They resolved to remove them from about the King; if they could find no other pretence (as none other they had) to declare: that being their enemies they could not suffer them to be about His Majesty without apparent danger to their Own persons. They, this mean while ignorant of their Practices put themselves in order to bring the King up to London: and, to the end that his train might be answerable to his Regal dignity, they got together a great many men. Whereat the Duke of Gloucester doubting, that if he should come so attended on, he should not without noise be able to effect his wickedness; he found means whereby to represent unto the Queen, That so great an Assembly of men would be dangerous: For the King not needing them, it would stir up jealousy in such, who formerly having had some difference with those of Her blood might believe it to be done against Them: since the King, by reason of his tender Years not being like lie to be the Author of it, it would be attributed to those that were about him; and it would be believed that they did yet retain the hatred pretended to be washed away at his Father's death: that her son was to meet with no oppositions; for all the Lords strove who should show him most affection and obedience: so as to appear armed and in an awful manner, would, together with the memory of ancient fewdes, raise so great jealousies, as those who could not think themselves safe, would take up Arms, and disturb the Peace: the which if at all times it be to be desired, certainly it is chiefly to be coveted in the succession of an Infant King. These reasons seemed good unto the Queen who discovered not the venom thereof. Whereupon she wrote to her Brother, exhorting him to cashier all the armed extraordinary attendants, and that he should come along only with her son's Household servants, thereby to shun the raising of suspicion in such, who having had reason formerly to hate him, would now have cause to accuse him, as one Seditious and of small Trust. These admonitions wrought the effect which Gloucester desired: and so much the rather, for that he having written with all manner of Submission to the King, and in most affectionate terms of Friendship to Rivers, it wrought so as they took their journey without Arms or extraordinary Retinue, directing their course towards Northampton; where they were met by Himself, Buckingham, and a great many Lords; and pretending they should be incommodated for scarcity of Lodgings if they should keep all together there; they made the King go twelve miles farther towards London, to Stony-Stratford; but the two Dukes stay●…d behind; and under pretence of Honour kept with them Earl Rivers, and Feasted him with such demonstrations of Joy, as, not being usual, he might easily have discovered the deceit, had he not been betrayed by the blind folded good opinion he had of Himself. When he was gone to his Lodging to rest all night, the two Dukes caused the Keys of the City to be brought to them, to the end that no man might get out: They slept little, spending the greatest part of the Night in counsel and advise: they rose early, and sent to all the Villages thereabouts, where their servants were billeted, willing them to be ready on Horseback, and sending some to keep on the way betwixt that and Stony-Stratford, with order to send back all passengers that should go that way. A strange diligence, which yet wrought no impression in such as observed it: for they believed it to be done that none might come to the King before Themselves. But Rivers was of an other opinion, for if there had been any reason for it, they should have communicated it to him: after many several conjectures, he resolved to go Himself and find out the bottom of the business; but no sooner did he appear before them, then that picking a quarrel that he had an intention to keep them from the King, and ruin them; the which he should not be able to effect; not suffering him to reply, but tumultuously interrupting him when he was about to speak; they committed him to the custody of some of their own Servants; and hasted to Stony-Stratford, and got thither just as the King was putting foot in stirrup; kneeling down before him, who cheerfully received them, not knowing their designs: they addressed themselves to Richard Grace, Brother to the marquis Dorset, objecting to him that he together with his Brother and his Uncle, had aspired to the Government of the King and Kingdom, by raising of Divisions, and by bringing under some of the Nobility, that they might destroy the Rest; that the marquis, to make his insolences the more feasible had taken out of the Tower of London all the Royal Treasure, and had sent men to Sea, to the end that none might oppose him. Both which were true, but in a contrary sense: it being so ordered by the Counsel, for the Kingdom's service; not his own. The King having heard the Accusation, showed how judicious a Prince he would have been, had it been his fortune, to have lived: for not knowing how to excuse the marquis, being ignorant, (by reason of his long absence) of what he had done, he thought he might excuse the rest, since they had been continually about him. So as not giving Richard leave to reply, he said: for what concerned the marquis, he knew not what to say, since he might be deceived; but as for his Uncle Rivers and his Brother Richard, he was very certain they could have no hand in any such business for that they had always been in His company. To the which Buckingham replied; His Majesty was deceived; that their designs were not known to His Majesty, and that they did not deserve to be excused by so good a Prince. Immediately, in his presence, was the said Richard seized upon, as likewise Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Richard Hawte; and the King, in stead of going forwards, was brought back to Northampton; such of his attendance as Gloucester durst not assy in, were removed, and others put in their place; whereat the young King did complain and was much grieved: having only the Name of a King, and not being of age to defend Himself, much less his Kindred and Servants. And that Dissimulation might not be wanting, (though now 'twas needless) the Duke of Gloucester, the next day sent a made dish from his Own Table to the Earl Rivers with a message; that, he should not be troubled at his restraint, willing him to be of good courage, for very suddenly all things would be to his good liking. How much of this Rivers believed may easily be imagined: but baulking the injury, and apprehending worse, he returned thanks for the honour done unto him, desiring the Messenger that he would carry it to his Nephew, Richard; for that being young, and not accustomed to such accidents as these, he needed the more this favour. This feigned courtesy was like the lightning which foreruns Thunder; for after many change of Prisons, they were brought to Pomfrect, and there beheaded; as in its proper place shall be told. The next night with great diligence this news came to the Queen, who presently guessed at the Duke's design: she too late repent the counsel given to her brother to disband his forces: she apparently saw her own danger, but much more the danger of the Duke of York, and her Daughters. She at the very same hour fled from her Palace, and took Sanctuary in Westminster, and lodged in the Abbey; to the great compassion of such who at that time of the night saw Trunks, Beds, and other things carried up and down in the streets, in such haste and fear, as the servants hindered one another in their service, not knowing what would become either of their Master or Themselves. The Lord Hastings had received the like advertisement, but with a contrary resentment: he rejoiced at the Queen's sufferings, all which were answerable to his wish; but imagined not that Gloucester would proceed any farther: for he having loved King Edward, loved his Children, nor would he for▪ all the World that any harm should have befallen them. Being thus satisfied in his Own belief, he, at the same instant, it being past midnight, dispatched away a Gentleman to the Archbishop of York, Lord Chancellor of England, who found him in his first sleep: he would not suffer him to be awaked; but the servants not obeying him, he was brought in, and acquainted him with what had been done to the King, Rivers, Grace, and the King's household; he concealed not the Queen's betaking herself to Sanctuary, adding that he should not be thereat troubled, for all should be well. The Archbishop differing in opinion from the Chamberlain, answered, He knew not what good to hope for from such demeanours. The Gentleman being gone he rose from bed, made all his Family get up, caused them to Arm themselves, and taking the great Seal along with him, he went unto the Queen: he thought he was come into a Palace newly pillaged; he saw nothing but confusion, and people justling one another for haste, some carrying in stuff, some going out to fetch in more; sighs and tears he met with everywhere. The Queen was set upon the floor, no more now what she formerly had been. It added to the immensity of her affliction to see herself bereft of her eldest Son, and other kindred who were her only stay; to consider that though she were sorely oppressed with Pre sent evils, yet was she to expect greater oppressions. Whence it may be gather●…d that foresight is the bitter fruit of most mature wits: a gift which graciously conferred for a Relief to mankind, works a contrary effect: the present imagination forestalleth future evils, and afflicts the apprehension, which ought only to be caused for what hath already happened: So as it can hardly be decided whether the fore-fight of Evils through the excellency of judgement, be not a bad effect of a good cause; and whether▪ at this rate, stolidity be not rather to be chosen then the most refined understanding, since such as are dull and stupid suffer only in the present Act of their misfortunes. The Chancellor having comforted the Queen with such reasons as in such desperate occasions hopes may suggest, acquainted her with what the Chamberlain Hastings had let him know; supposing that Hastings who had been obliged to the late Edward, would side with his Children and Family: but the Queen loathing to hear that Name, replied; he was in an ertour to believe him to be her friend, who hating her blood endeavoured the utter extirpation of it. The Archbishop, not able to persuade her to the contrary, discoursing from the least of dangers to the greatest that might happen, bade her be assured that if any other King should be crowned then that King which now they had in their hands, they would crown the Duke of York, who was now in her possession. And that you may be hereof certain, Lo Madam (said he) the Great Seal of England: his Father, your Husband, gave it me; I give it you, that you may keep it for your Son; and if for the present I could give you a greater Testimony of my good will, you should have it. Which being said he left the Seal with her, and departed about break of day, not weighing of what importance the thing was that he had done, and how prejudicial it might be to him. But being come home and seeing the Thames, out at his Window, full of Boats, which were filled with Glocesters Servants who observed if any went by water towards Sanctuary, and hearing that there was partaking, and tumults raised in the City, Lords and other people appearing in sundry Assemblies Armed; he bethought himself that if any extravagant courses should be taken, his delivery of the Great Seal to any whosoever without the King's Command, since it was delivered to his custody, might redound much to his damage, whilst the Queen could reap no advantage thereby; whereupon he privately sent for it again, and when he had it, carried it according to custom, openly in the sight of all men. This mean while commotions in the City did still continue, it being believed that the proceedings at Northampton were not only caused for what concerned Rivers, but out of a design to hinder the Coronation: and troubles had been likely to have ensued, had not the Lord Chamberlain assured them that those Lords were imprisoned for certain Conspiracies plotted against the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, as would be made appear by due process of Law. That no doubt was to be made of the Duke of Gloucester since he had always continued constantly faithful to the King: but that, to suspect it, might be of dangerous consequence, if they would not lay down their Arms, with the same facility they had taken them up. This Testimony quieted the greatest part of the people, especially when they understood the King was coming, waited upon by the Duke his Uncle with all manner of respect: as also that amongst Rivers his carriages certain Barrels full of Arms were found: which though it were not believed by the wiser sort, yet Gloucesters' followers insisting much upon it, it raised doubts in some who otherwise would not have been persuaded to it. For nothing is more prejudical to Truth, than Falsehood boldly affirmed, with Confidence and Obstinacy. The King was met by the Lord Major of London, the Sheriffs and Aldermen, all in Scarlet, accompanied with five hundred Citizens on horseback clothed all in purple. Gloucester showed such appearance of Reverence and Love to the King his Nephew, as he changed their former suspicions, into a great good liking of him: insomuch as when a Protector was to be chosen, as usually is done in the minority of Kings, he alone, without any manner of contradiction, was named thereunto; not only as he was Uncle, and the next Prince of the Blood; but as he that was loyal, most loving, and of all others the fittest for a charge of such weight. Many were forthwith removed from their Offices; whereof the Archbishop of York was one of the first, not without sharp reproof for having left the Great Seal with the Queen. Doctor Russell, Bishop of Lincoln, a man of Laudable conditions succeeded him in his place. Earl Hastings was continued in his place of Lord Chamberlain. All which were businesses of small importance not being those which troubled Gloucester: and though to have won the People's good will and obtained the Protectors place was the right way to his designs; yet were they not things he could have miss of, the people's good opinion depending upon his natural dissembling, and the Protectors place upon his nearness of Blood Royal, and consequently without Competitour. That which most troubled him was, that he could not rid his hands of the One brother without the Other: for if the Elder brother were made away, the Duke of York was to succeed. In this it was that he was to use his best wits; for the Queen being jealous of him, and the Duke of York being in a place not to be violated, he could not come by him but by Deceit and Sacrilege. But it was no hard matter for him to overcome these difficulties: a fraudulent persuasion eased him of the trouble of seeking out Other means. He at the Counsel Table spoke against the Queen in these or the like words, That there was no malice could parallel hers: since to work the King's Counsel into an ill opinion with the World, she together with the Duke and Princesses had taken Sanctuary, as if there were apparent cause of doubt: that it mattered not much what became of Her or her Daughters; the King might live without them, but not well without his brother, whose company was absolutely necessary for His Majesty; That the people, upon so unexpected a resolution, could make no other conjecture, but that she was doubtlessly in danger, and her Enemies possessed of all manner of power, since her own quality and her children's were not sufficient to secure her, unless she should fly to Sanctuary; a refuge usually for guilty people, and if at any time for such as were innocent, only for such as wanted other means of protection. That she seemed by Enemies to mean none but the Privy Counsel, since they were highest in Authority. That to believe their intentions were to oppress the Queen, the Duke of York, and the Ladies of the blood Royal, so as they were enforced to take Sanctuary, was an injury not to be tolerated: That whosoever should approve of such scandalous proceedings, did not love the King; neither did he believe that they did disapprove thereof, who would not help to remedy it: since the King himself, being a Child, could not do it. That it behoved them to look to it, who were chosen to look to the preservation of the Kingdom, and the King's health; nor were they disengaged from the many duties they were bound to by the payment of One debt. That the consideration of health was the chief thing they ought to have in regard; and rather the health of the mind then the health of the Body: for the former being lost, the latter could not long continue; for that sadness of mind did dry up the Bones, especially in a young Prince, who if he should not be straightened in honest recreations, muchless, from Honest Company. And though it fits not Kings to have companions, yet no conversation being to be had without some sort of Equality, to whom did it more properly belong then to an only Brother? And if this alone argument might not be of force as it ought, he propounded this consideration unto their wisdoms; that the Coronation could not be proceeded in without scandal, whilst the Duke of York (who was to have the first place next to the King in that great solemnity) should not be there but in a Sanctuary, a shelter for Delinquents; affording matter to the common people to judge according to their Ignorance, and to Foreign Princes according to the appearance of false supposals; which must needs redound to the shame and prejudice of them all: to their shame; for that it was not to be credited, that the only brother of a King should for his safety's sake be necessitated to make use of the privilege of Sanctuary without just occasion; To their prejudice; for that, give this necessity for granted, great troubles were likely to arise thereout, it not being likely that there would want those who would willingly lay hold on any occasion to disturb the State: That, in his opinion, some one should be sent to the Queen, whom she did not mistrust, yet such a one as, would be zealous of the honour of the King and Counsel; who might rectify her, and let her know what wrong she did unto them all: To the King, by bereaving him of his Brother: To the counsel, by her thus tacitly accusing them of an evil that never fell into their thoughts: To the Kingdom; by kindling a fire which was not suddenly to be quenched. And that if this should not prevail, the Duke of York should by Regal power be taken from Prison and brought to the King his brother; where being more made of then with Her, he might reproach unto her her mistrust; and how she had been the occasion of making others do the like: her malignant and sottish suspicions tending to the Counsels shame, the Kingdom's Harm, and her Own Confusion. He propounded the Cardinal Archbishop of York, for this enterprise, remitting himself to their pleasure, if they should not approve of him, from the which he professed he would not descent. They all commended his opinion, and agreed with him, that, if he could not be had from thence, inconveniences might ensue. But the Cardinal having first taken the employment upon him, was, together with as many Ecclesiastical persons as were there present, of a contrary opinion, for as much as concerned his being taken from the Sanctuary by force: alleging, the Sanctity of the place was inviolable, as well by the many reiterated grants of Popes and Kings, as for five hundred Years before (as is testified by tradition) it was by St. Peter, assisted therein by Angels, miraculously consecrated. He hoped, however, it would be needless, the Queen in reason being to deliver him up willingly; the which if she should not do, the fault was neither to be attributed to Her, nor Him: Not to Him; for he would not be failing in his duty: Not to Her; she being therein to be excused in respect of her Motherly affection, and the weakness of her Sex. But Buckingham, not approving these circumspections, swore: The Queen knew well enough she had no occasion of fear; that her fears were merely fictitious, and of malice; and if she would be believed because her kindred were hated as they well deserved to be, she should distinguish between those who were of kin to Her, and who were the like to the Blood Royal. That her kindred had afforded reason wherefore to be hated, as she herself had likewise done through her malignity; but in her extending it to the Duke of York, the distribution was too large and odious. That he likewise had the honour to be a kin unto him, neither would he in his zeal to his service give way to any one, no not unto his Mother: since she desired to keep him, not without danger and scandal in the Sanctuary, to please her malicious humour, whereas he counselled he should be ta'en from thence, to the end that all scandals being removed, the danger of his health might be prevented, and other men's troubles. He discoursed upon the use and abuse of Sanctuaries, all the Counsel joining with him in opinion: whereupon it was resolved; that if the Cardinal could not prevail with his Persuasions, he should be taken from her by Force. The which being agreed upon they went to the Star-chamber to expect there, as in the nearest place, what would be the issue. The Cardinal accompanied by a great many Lords, either for that the Protector would not trust a business of such weight to One only man, or that the coming of so many might make the Queen perceive it was not He alone that desired the delivery of her Son; and that, if she should refuse, they might Force him from Her as was resolved. The Cardinal's words were these; He was sent by the Protector, and the Privy Counsel to let her know how much her detaining of the Duke of York in that place was of scandal to the publque, and of Dislike to the King his Brother, it being an action which must needs produce very bad effects. That the King was grieved at it, and the Counsel offended, as if one brother did live in danger, and could not be preserved but by the others life. That he desired to have the Duke, so to set him at Liberty, and free him from that Prison (for in respect of him it could be accounted no better) to bring him to his Brother, where he might live answerable to his Condition and Degree. By delivering him up she would give peace unto the Kingdom, satisfaction to the Counsel, and Advantage to those she desired to help (meaning her Brother, her Son and the other Prisoners) to boot with the Honour and Content the King would thereby receive; and Comfort to the Duke of York's self, who in respect of health could be nowhere better then with his Brother: their Years and Nature had appropriated them one for the other; and their Loves would be the more confirmed, by their being brought up Together, as well at their Book as at their Sports. Here the Cardinal paused a while expecting what answer the Queen would make; who, repeating some things he had said, confessed; There was no better company nor more pleasing friendship then that of Brothers, as is shown by nature in her Ordinations, by her recommending them in their most tender Years to the care of motherly affection: the which, as it deceiveth not, so doth it not spare for any thing in the performance of that duty. That all Other loves did couple men together Only as far as conduced to self interest; Brotherly love shared in self-interest, Friendship and Blood: This conjunction of love was that which was to be desired between her two Sons the King, and Duke of York: but as their Age did not render them capable of such conversation as was ripened by Years, so was it likewise the cause why the Mother's care, more passionate and pliable to their tender humours, was of all others the most necessary and proper for them; and though the King, being the first borne, stood not so much in need thereof; having been taken from her Government ever since his going into Wales, yet the Duke of York did of necessity require it; who being a Child lately sick, now upon the mending hand, and in danger of a Relapse, there was none knew so well how to Govern him as she his Mother, who, as best knowing his disposition, was fittest for that employment. The Cardinal approved of all she said, so as she would take upon her the care of them Both in a place Befitting Her and Them: he said the Counsel would be herewithal satisfied: Nay; they would Beg it of her: but in a Sanctuary this was not good; it stood not with the King's Honour, Her own, nor the Counsels: This parting of the brothers, the one of them kept in Sanctuary, afforded occasion to the People of strange and scandalous conjectures: All this might be remedied if she would return to Court; which if she would not do, she might think it the same thing to have the Duke of York taken Now from her, as it was to have the Prince (now King) taken out of her charge, when he went into Wales. The Queen replied the case is much differing: the Prince was then well in Health; the Duke but about to be so, and in danger of falling ill again: besides if the one were taken From her the other was left with her: She wondered much the Protector did so much desire to Have him, since being not well and that possibly he might die, he should, in reason, Refuse to take him though he were Offered, so to avoid the suspicions his death might cause: She likewise thought it strange that his being in Sanctuary should be ascribed to the Puntillios of Honour, as if he might not with his Honour be in a safe place and with his Mother, with whom doubtless it was best for him to be: As concerning Her going from Thence she would not forgo the place, lest she might fall into the like danger that Others had done: she wished it had pleased God that They had been with Her, where they might have been safer than she should be with Them. The Cardinal was not pleased with this discourse: and thinking it might be dangerous for him to hear the Protector accused (especially in what he did not believe) and he not take notice of it, thought to stop her mouth by saying it could not be but she must needs know some Reason why she should believe them to be in danger since she did so confidently affirm it. The Queen, finding the Cardinal's drift, answered: she too well knew a reason, but not according to His sense: That she was more than certain that their intended ruin was not occasioned out of those reasons which He pretended she knew. He perceiving she was somewhat offended, and desirous to make her believe he had said nothing with an ill intention replied; He hoped that when the business should be well debated those Lords would so well justify themselves that there should be no occasion of fear: and for what concerned Her Royal person, there neither was, nor was there to be any manner of danger. 'Twould argue great simplicity to believe either the One or the Other, replied the Queen: for if the fault of those who were imprisoned were only that wherein she shared as deep as They, her fault consisting in her being Mother to the King, as Theirs in being a Kin to him, (the only reason why they were hated) it was impossible for them to justify themselves; and 'twas more impossible that their enemies should love Her the Original of their Hatred, and hate Them who were but the Appendices: so as their fault being such and their imprisonment caused only for being allied to Her, and consequently to the King, their ruin was unavoidable; for Nature could not undo what she had done, nor, contrary to her order, annul the relation that was between Them, Her, and the King. For what remained; she was resolved not to quit the Sanctuary; and to keep her son There, till she saw how the current of businesses would go: and her fears were much increased by this their great desire of having him There. The Cardinal's reply was; That others had the very like fear of Her whilst she detained him in her custody, for that she might send him into some part beyond the Seas, and no man know where: he therefore wished her to know that the common opinion was, that the Sanctuary was no place of privilege for Him, he wanting Arbitrement, and will to demand it, as well as Fault whereby to make it necessary for him: so as the taking of him from thence by Force (which would ensue if she would not willingly deliver him) would be no violation to the place, for that the Protector his Uncle who most entirely loved him, was resolved to have him away before he might be conveyed from thence by others. Is then his Uncle's love so great (replied the Queen) as that he apprehends nothing but that he should escape his hands? She affirmed for a truth that she never had any thought of sending him elsewhere: not but that she would willingly have done it, had she known any place of more safety, but for that she thought no place could be so secure as the Sanctuary; having never heard of any so diabolical a Tyrant as thought it lawful to violate it: That children were not capable thereof in respect of their want of Will or Fault, was an opinion as erroneous as Hellish; Innocents' being thereby denied the benefit granted to Thiefs and Murderers: Did he deny the Danger, and pretend it to be Feigned? She prayed God the Event might not manifest it; which should it do, all remedies would come too late and be of no use: That for what concerned shame, it belongeth to those who unjustly do it, not to those who undeservedly suffer it. To affirm that since Princes do not disport themselves but with children of their Own Condition and Blood, it was requisite the King should have his Brother, and that if he should be denied he had cause enough to take him away by Force, was a simple reason to allow of Sacrilege: who ever saw that young Princes did not more willingly play with their Inferiors then with their Equals? since they seldom or never meet with their Equals, and if ever, but for a short time: If children nobly borne and others too, oftentimes were not admitted to disport themselves with Princes; and that Princes should never play but with such as were every way their Equals, Few or None of them would know what belongs to play. Coming then to the causes of violating Sanctuaries, she said they were most False. For let all be granted that could be alleged, as want of Years to Demand it, and will to Desire it; together with their contraries, to wit the faculty of Choice and Will to Leave it: there was no cause why he should be ta'en from thence against Her will: For being by Nature and the Laws void of election, he was subject to his Mother's arbitrement: whereupon nothing wherewith she was trusted, being to be taken from her under the Privilege of Sanctuary, much less her Son, which was the only cause of her flying thither: That if this was not sufficient, it might suffice that she was his Guardian: The Laws of England allow unto the Mothers the Guardianship of such as hold nothing by Knight's service: so as having demanded Sanctuary for herself, she had done it likewise for her Ward, which being by the Laws committed to Her charge was not to be taken from her: for he not being able to demand it for Himself, it was Her duty to demand it for him; since the Laws deliver over the care of the Person before the oversight of goods; goods serving for the use of the person, and therefore administered unto by Guardians: she could allege examples enough of this, but her Own example might serve the turn: This was not the first time she had taken Sanctuary: when the King her Husband was banished and driven out of the Country she being great with child, had recourse to Sanctuary, and was there brought to bed of the (now) King, who was There safe: she wished it might please God his Royal Palace might prove as free from danger to him now that he did Reign, as was that place then, although an Enemy King did Reign; who might have made use of such suppositions as Now were made use of, but did not: so as being warranted by the Laws of the Land, which, together with the Laws of Nature, gave unto her the oversight of her children, and by the Divine Law, which did privilege Sanctuaries, and the Sanctuary her Son; she was resolved, since the Eldest was out of her power, to keep the Younger: for if the uncle had Both of them, and both of them should chance to miscarry, he might the easilier pretend unto the Crown; notwithstanding his Nieces were between him and home; the which afforded her just occasion of Fear: for since the Laws inhibit the Guardianship of a Ward to such as are Next Heirs, though but to a small Revenue, how much more when a Kingdom is the inheritance? The Cardinal, perceiving her to wax Hot, and likely to say more than he would have her, answered; He was not come to argue with her; that he demanded the Duke of York from her; whom if she would deliver up to him, and the rest of the Lords that were there present, he would pawn his own Body and Soul for the Duke's safety: if she would not do this, he would be gone; seeing her fixed in her belief that all others (her self excepted) wanted either Wit or Loyalty: Wit; by her thinking them such fools, as not perceiving the Protectors intentions, they should suffer themselves to be abused: Loyalty; for that if they were conscious of any such intention in him, they should be very wicked to serve him as a means whereby to effect so great a Treason. These words did much perplex the Queen, weighing with herself the divers hazards she ran, whether she Delivered him, or did not deliver him. By Delivering him, she considered the Danger he together with his brother was to run: in Not delivering him, two things presented themselves unto her mind: the one, Force, that assoon as the Cardinal should be gone, the Protector would come in person and take him away: she wanted Time to provide for this: Many things were required in sending of him elsewhere, none of all which were likely to succeed, she not having thought thereof before: she knew not whether to send him; she had not appointed people to conduct him; she had not time enough to keep the secret undiscovered, and him unintercepted: The other; she might be Deceived in her suspicions: whowsoever it would be more disadvantageous to her, to suffer him be taken from her by Force, then willingly to surrender him: she did not doubt the Cardinal's good intentions, not yet Theirs that were with him: She was sure they were not corrupted, but not sure but that they might be deceived: Her appearing to believe in them, would Oblige them: So as, taking the little Duke by the hand she said: she was not so ill advised as to mistrust their Fidelity or Wisdom: she would give a testimony of it; being sure she should not be deceived unless they should through the malice of others be deceived: the which if it should so happen, her Sorrow would be rendered incapable of Comfort, the Kingdom's Ruin remediless, and she should have just cause to complain of Them: That, not withstanding whatsoever objection, she was sure she might keep her son in the Sanctuary free from all violence; but as she doubted not but that her blood was so hated by some, as if they thought they had any share therein, they would open their veins, and let it out: so was she most certain the thirst of Government knew no kindred: for if brothers had not been spared, much less would Nephews escape: That the lives of her dear children depended the One upon the Other: If the One were safe, Both were safe: That notwithstanding her unfortunate foreknowledge of thus much, she resolved to resign One of them into Their hands, which was as much as if she should resign Both of them to them, that she might at all times redemand them of Them; both before God and man: She knew that for what concerned Them, they would render her a very good account, she being not ignorant of their wisdom and and fidelity: but that this was not sufficient; that Force and Resolution was requisite, if need should require: whereof they had no lack, nor yet Others upon the like occasion: but if they should doubt of this, she desired them to leave her son with Her; conjuring them by the trust the King her Husband had in them, and for what she at the present trusted them withal, that they should not think her too unnecessarily Timorous upon this occasion, but rather believe themselves to be too Credulous and Confident: Then tourning to her Son: Farewell, said she, my sweet Son; the Lord be thy Protector; let me kiss thee before I leave thee, lest I never kiss thee more. Having kissed him, and blessed him, she Weeping turned Her back, leaving Him in their custody, who when He saw his Mother quit Him, burst forth a Weeping. He was presently brought to the Star-chamber, where he was with much longing expected by his Uncle. He took him in his Arms with the like affection as doth the Wolf the Lamb. He welcomed him with Words and Kisses, wherewith he artificially disguised his intended Treason; he led him to his brother, who was lodged in the Bishop's house near Paul's; from whence with great Pomp they were brought to the Tower, whence they never came forth. Some thought the Duke of Buckingham was not only an Assister, but the chief Agent in this business, having written concerning it to the Duke of Gloucester at the instant of King Edward's Death: but those who knew him were of an other opinion; that Buckingham knew nothing of it till after Gloucester had gotten both his Nephews into his custody; who then discovered himself to those he most confided in; chiefly to Buckingham: for winning Him to side with him he needed not to fear what ever Other forces: so as to win Him, was to win the Prize. For if He should have opposed him, all the rest would have followed his colours; so just a withstanding of so wicked an endeavour being sufficient, at the least Nod, to draw the whole Kingdom after it. The reason which caused Buckingham to side with the Protector, was; that he had offended the King in imprisoning his Kindred, so as he had no reason to hope for safety. For should they be put to Death, it were an injury the King in likelihood would never forget, but would be ready to revenge when He should be of Years: and if they should be set at liberty, their Authority was likely to be so great, as he might despair of Life. The Protector had provided himself of a Guard; for businesses of this nature are not handled without Precaution, and Jealousies. He armed himself whilst no man thought of it, and trusted the managing of his affairs to none but such whose fortunes did totally depend upon Him. Trust in unblamable actions is constantly Inconstant. He set Spies about Buckingham, thinking it impossible he should be equally wicked with Him, not having the like Designs; and was resolved, if he should find him Faulty, to be his immediate ruin. He made use of Buckingham's most professed friends; and no wonder if they were Traitors, since the Conformity of evil Inclinations had caused the friendship between Them and their Master; a thing not without danger amongst such men; the least shadow of suspicion being sufficient to make either rob other of their Lives. The secrets of Friendship are not tasted by such, who have their tastes contaminated by the bitterness of Ambitious interests. Yet had not Buckingham joined herein with him, unless upon very advantageous conditions; for when he obliged himself to make Gloucester King, Gloucester obliged himself to take the Duke's daughter in marriage to His only Son, promising him to boot with this the Earldom of Hartford, pretended unto by him, as his Inheritance: the which being denied him by the late King, was the first cause of this his so lewd resolution, thereby revenging himself upon his Children. He moreover of his own free motion, promised him a great part of the Treasure left by Edward, together with a very large proportion of the Wardrobe he had left to furnish his House withal. These things being agreed upon, they erected a New Counsel, compounded of the Chiefest, to treat of things appertaining to the Coronation; to the end that they and the people might be entertained with a belief thereof: and to the same end, they commanded such Lords as were absent from the City, to come to London, and assist at the Solemnity. They on the other side, with a Counsel compacted out of their Own Followers, treated of the means how to bring the Protector to the Crown: So as whilst the Cardinal of Canterbury, the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Stanley, the Lord Hastings, and others, did busy themselves how by a not un-necessary ceremony to Establish a naturally Lawful King, They treated how to depose him, and by wicked treason to establish in his place an Unlawful Tyrant for King. The first counsel was composed of Many of the Best rank; the second of Few, and those of the Worst condition. But his dealings not being to be penetrated into by all, people began to murmur, although they could not guess at the real mischief intended. 'Twas impossible that from so many circumstances and vain delays, as were by This Counsel propounded unto the Other, jealousies should not arise, as usually they do from things done out of time, and without occasion. To this was added, the taking from the Tower all the King's servants, whose places were supplied by the Protectors Houshold-servants; and if any one desired to see the King, he was in private wished the contrary, for the Protector would have no man see him, save such as He sent: So as the King was not only left Solitary, and destitute of all manner of Company; but likewise of all Magnificence, and Regal Splendour: both which were conveyed over to the House and Person of the Protector. Amongst those who were admitted into the Secret Council there was one Catesby, a man very well skilled in the Laws of the Land: this man being employed by the Lord Chamberlain, in all his affairs, and by his favour advanced in the Court, had won such credit with all men, especially in Leicestershire, where the said Lord was very powerful, as nothing was done there without Him: so as being a creature of his, and by his means in a fair way of advancement, the Chamberlain thought he would not fail to advertise him of any thing of moment should be done in That council, especially of any thing that might be prejudicial to Him. But gratitude, disdaining to associate with one who together with his Conscience had renounced his Loyalty, and all other duties, forsook him; and in place thereof stepped in Ingratitude, which acquitted him from discharging the debt he ought to his Benefactor; which was the original of all the ensuing evils. For Stanley, doubting this Cabinet Counsel, had endeavoured to cross it, by the favour and assistance of many, who likewise began to fear it; had not the Chamberlain, upon conference had with him therein, secured him, relying upon Catesbyes' fidelity. The Protector did naturally love the Chamberlain, he having always been his friend, and one from whom he had received friendship, in the King his Brother's time: nor had he resolved to ruin him, had he not feared, that if he should discover his secrets unto him, he would have withstood them. He therefore willed Catesby to use his utmost endeavour to draw him over to their side. But Catesby either did it not at all, being likely to reap advantage by his downfall; or if he did it, gave the Protector so sinister an account, as changing his Love into Hatred, he resolved to have his life; yet treating him with his wont confidence, he thereout got two advantages. He made him Slower in putting on such resolutions as he might have done against him, and He the better brought about his Own ends to the Others ruin, whilst he lest thought of it. Insomuch as the Chamberlain having acquainted Catesby with the jealousies which this Counsel had raised in many, thinking to work out of him some assurance, he did not only give him no satisfaction, but he persuaded the Protector to dispatch him out of the way as soon as might be, as if his life were pernicious to his designs. An advice well taken by Richard, though not given out of any zeal to His service, as it seemed to be; but that by his death he might enter into the plenary authority, which the Chamberlain solely had in his Country. The Protector not needing any instigation to do mischief, that he might be rid of him, came on the thirteenth of june, three hours before Noon into the Counsel, where they loitered away the time in discourse about the Coronation, the day whereof drew near. He at his first entrance civilly saluted all the Lords that were there, excusing himself for his coming so late; and passing from one discourse to another, he desired the Bishop of Ely to send for a dish of Strawberries from his Garden at Holborn, saying he had never eaten better. The Bishop taking it for a great favour, sent presently for them, whilst he soon after rising up desired them to dispense with his absence for a while; and within less than an hour returned so full of anger and bitterness as made them all amazed. Being set down, with angry eyes, and frowning look, and biting his lips, he for a good while said nothing: at last he asked them, what punishment they deserved who had plotted His death, notwithstanding that he was next in Blood to the King, and by Office, His and the Kingdom's Protector? This question startled the Counsel, not knowing by whom it was intended, though each one's Conscience told him it was not by Him. The Chamberlain seeing them all hold their peace, and thinking it behoved him by reason of his familiarity to break the Ice, said, They deserved to be punished as Traitors, no man or condition whatsoever excepted. The which the rest agreeing unto, the Protector said, It was his brother's wife (disdaining to call her Queen) and others with her: whereat those who favoured her were troubled. But the Chamberlain, who feared some friends of his might have been concerned, was overjoyed when he heard the Queen named: he was not, though, well pleased that the Protector had not acquainted him with it; since their imprisonment and death (which was that very day to ensue, and whereat he was glad) was not resolved on without his consent: little thought he to be himself that very hour beheaded. The Protector continuing his complaint, unbuttoned his left sleeve, and stripping it up to the elbow, showed a fleshless dry arm, appearing to be nothing but skin and bone, saying, that the cruelty of the Queen and of Shore's wife, who was her counsellor, and coadjudresse in that wickedness, had thus spoiled and bewitched him. The Lords who knew his arm had never been other then what it was, imagined presently this calumny was invented to some wicked end: they knew the Queen to be too wise to think upon so foolish an action; and if she should have any such thought, it was not likely she should make use of Shore's wife, the woman of all the world she hated most, as being by the King her husband doted on, even to his death. The Chamberlain had been long in love with this woman; but his Respect unto the King, as his Master; and his Truth unto him, as his Friend, had mortified his passion; but when the King was dead, he took her home unto him; so as the Protector not knowing any other invention wherewithal to lay him low, pitched upon this; and the Chamberlain thinking it behoved him to speak, since he had made the first answer, said: If it were true, they were both worthy to be severely punished; believing that if this imputation should be tried according to Law and the course of Justice, it would vanish of itself, and not need his assistance. But the Protector, who in the present affairs had no regard either to Justice or Law, answered with an angry countenance: that he stood upon Ifs and Ands; but that he told him it was true, and that he would make it good upon his body Traitor that he was: then giving a great blow with his hand upon the Table (which was the appointed sign for those that waited without) Treason, Treason, was heard from without, the door was forced open and the chamber was instantly full of armed men; one of which making a great blow at the Lord Stanleys' head, had cleft him to the teeth, had not he (perceiving it coming) fall'n underneath the Table; yet fell he not so soon but that he was therewithal wounded, and the blood ran down about his ears. 'Twas thought the Protector, not finding any objection whereby to put him to death, had taken this order, to the end he might be thought to be casually slain, in that confusion. The mere shadow of Shore's wife was sufficient to move the many for what concerned the Chamberlain: whom he arrested by the name of Traitor; and being by him in all humbleness demanded whether he spoke to Him, or no? Yes, to Thee traitor, replied he. With what face the Author of this treachery could give this title to the party betrayed, would not be a discourse much out of purpose, since the world abounds in so many of the like. Being in this manner arrested, the Protector swore by Saint Paul he would not dine before he saw him dead: so as haste being to be made, for the hour of dinner drew nigh●…, and the Protector was too religious to break Such an oath, the Chamberlain was forced to make a short confession to the first Priest could be found, for the usual form would prove too long, and being led from the Chapel to a green Court, he had his head struck off, and was afterwards buried at Windsor, near to King Edward's Tomb. The rest of the Council, who in this uproar were kept locked up in the Chamber, were conveyed into several places, being reputed by the Protector to be averse to his designs, and more particularly the Lord Stanley. A miraculous presage of this misfortune is related; by which, (if it be true) is seen what care the Heavens have over Us, advertising us by dreams of imminent dangers, which might be shunned, if, together with them, we were endued with the spirit of joseph, or Daniel, to interpret them. The night preceding this mischance the Lord Stanley dreamed that a wild Poare had wounded both Him and the Chamberlain in the head, so as the blood ran down both their shoulders: whereupon awaking he thought this wild Boar must be the Protector; the Wounds and Blood some imminent danger of their lives: in this affright he forthwith arose, and sent to acquaint the Chamberlain with his dream, (who was fast asleep) resolving to be instantly gone (it being but a little past midnight) so that in the morning he might be so far from thence, as to be in safety: he advised him to do the like, to the end that their danger being alike, their safeties might be so too. The Chamberlain was not subject to melancholy, and therefore not superstitious; so as laughing at the message he answered the messenger: that he wondered his Master should give belief to such follies; he bade him tell him from Him, that Dreams were Dreams, and suppose they were to be allowed as foretellers of future evils, they were so uncertain, as they might no less harm than help. Who could assure him that the danger that was to be feared might not consist as well in their Flight, as in their Tarrying? and if as they fled away they should be taken, and brought back (as might very well happen) would it not afford the wild Boar an occasion of wounding them with his Tusks? for their flight could not but be imputed to an evil conscience, and to some faults, if not committed, yet intended: He desired him therefore to appease himself, and fear nothing, for there was no danger: and if there were any, they would rather be met withal by running away (as he had said) then by Tarrying: that he was as sure of the man he doubted (meaning the Protector,) as of his own Hand. The Gentleman returned with this answer; thereby making his Master forgo his former resolution; with less harm to himself who Feared so much, then to the Chamberlain that was so Confident. Many things were observed before his death: as he road towards the Tower, his horse stumbled twice or thrice under him even almost to the endangering of a fall: A very vulgar observation; for if all stumbling horses should presage misfortune, the number of those who should perish would be very great. As he was making himself ready to go thither, a Gentleman of good quality came to him, who was purposely sent by the Protector, to persuade him to come in case he should not intend it: this man seeing him tarry to speak with a Priest, (a friend of his) as he was upon the way, fearing lest he might come too late, hastened him, telling him the time passed, and that as yet he needed not a Priest: knowing that within two hours he would have need of one. Being come to the Tower, he met a Pursuivant near the place where he was beheaded, and calling to mind that he had met him in the very same place, whilst, being prisoner by procurement of the Earl Rivers, he much doubted his life: he asked him whether he did remember that he had met him in that place, in a time when he was in great danger? the Pursuivant answered, Yes; praising God that the author of his affliction got not much thereby, and that he suffered no harm at all. Thou wouldst say more (replied the Chamberlain) if thou knewst as much as I know, (meaning that that very day Earl Rivers was to lose his head.) I was never so afraid, as then: matters are well amended: mine enemies are now in danger, as I was then; as ere long thou shalt hear: and I more joyful, and more secure than ever. Oh the poorness of our confidence! which ignorant of what is to come, taketh one thing for another, and doth not think itself deceived. He apprehended Death, when he was to Live; and was confident of Life, when he was to Lose it. The Chamberlain was apt to flatter himself, and to be mistaken. Those who are given to Pleasures, are commonly free from Suspicion, and from believing what themselves would not do. And if he concurred to the evils that befell Rivers, it was not in him either Malice or Treason, having always openly Professed himself to be his enemy; nay had he imagined that his death would be cause of the like to the sons of his Master King Edward, he would have ransomed them from death, not only by preserving Rivers alive, but with his Own Blood: for his favouring them cost him both his Blood and Life; the impossibility of alienating him from them, was that which made the Protector resolve his death; the former affection he bore unto him being cancelled by Ambition and Cruelty: affections which at all times did superabound in him. I observe, that of all his plots and windings about, there were only two that can be said to savour of Wit: his persuading the Queen to make her brother lay down his Arms, that so he might seize on him unarmed; and his making the Cardinal and the rest believe, that his desire of having the Duke of York, was an effect of Charity and Love. In other things the art he used was of no availment; it was as soon Discovered as Used: so as if he had not won the reputation he had by Valour, which made him to be feared; by the privilege of his Blood; and by Buckingham's favour; he assuredly had effected nothing by his Cunning. It behoved him to find out some colour of Justice whereby to make good the Chamberlains precipitated death: not knowing how to do it otherwise; after dinner he sent for some of the chiefest Citizens to the Tower. Before they came, he and Buckingham had put on two old rusty Armours, fitter for Ruffians than men of their quality; for he thought, should they have put on handsome Arms it might have been imagined that time and commodity must have gone to their so going, whereas the rusty ill-shaped Arms would argue a surpisall, which being discovered enforced them to make use of what came first to hand. Being come he told them that the Chamberlain with some others had that very day endeavoured to kill them both as they were in Counsel, whereof they could not guess the Cause nor Design: that he came to know of this Treason a little before Dinner, so as they had no time to Arm themselves otherwise then as they saw: that God had protected them by turning upon the Authors of this evil, the mischief they intended to Them: that he had sent for them, to the end that being informed of the Truth of the business, they might inform others. There was none so simple but knew how the business went: but being circumspect through Fear, they went their ways not making any Reply, or further Inquiry. The Protector having put off his Armour, sent a Herald into the City, to publish a Proclamation, the contents whereof were: That Baron Hastings Lord Chamberlain, accompanied with some other Conspirators had an intention to kill him the Protector, and the Duke of Buckingham that very day as they sat at Counsel, that so he might usurp the Government of the King and Kingdom: hoping that when these two Princes should be dead there would be none that would oppose him. But because this bare Narration without Witness, or other circumstances, was not likely to work any great effect, he aggravated it with complaints no ways relating to the matter in hand: That he had been an evil Counsellor to the late King: that he had persuaded him to many things contrary to his Honour and the good of the Kingdom: that by his example he had given him occasion to debauch himself, particularly with Shore's Wife; who as she was partaker of all his secret Counsels, so was she a complice in this abominable Treason: that the last night (which was his last) he lay with her; so that it was no wonder if having lived ill, he died ill; that the sudden Justice done upon him was by Order from the King, and his faithful Counsel, he having deserved it; and to the end that His complices might be prevented from daring to raise a dangerous insurrection to set him at liberty: the which being wisely foreseen was the only means, by God's Providence, to restore the Kingdom to its former tranquillity: It is to be observed that there was not much above two hours' space between his Execution and the Publishing of the Proclamation; so as the contents thereof being Long, well dictated, and fairly written out in Parchment, every one knew it must needs be written before he was put to Death, the interim of time between the Execution and Publication not being sufficient to write it out, much less so Handsomely to digest the matter, though to the Swiftness of hand had been added the Readiest wit: The which occasioned diversity of discourse, whereof some said it was written by the Spirit of Prophecy. But the Protector having accused Shore's Wife as an Accessary and an Adviser, sent to her House and made her be plundered of all she had, not out of Avarice but Malice; and that such a demonstration might make the falsehood seem the more likely, and the imputation the more probable, she was committed to Prison, and examined by the Counsel, where she answered so well for herself as not the least likelihood appearing whereby to make her guilty of what she was accused, they fell upon her dishonest and scandalous course of living, the only thing indeed wherein she was faulty: the which would have been winked at in any other, by the Protector, and imputed to the frailty of Nature: but to exercise his cruelty upon Her, he was contented to be held an Enemy to Incontinency. She was delivered over to the Bishop to do Public Penance in the Cathedral Church, the which she did the next Sunday morning, being led by way of Procession, with a white Sheet about her, with a Wax Taper in her hand, and the Cross borne before her: In which action though she were destitute of all manner of Ornament, yet she appeared so lovely and handsomely behaved, as her blushes adding to her Beauty, all the lookers on did not only blame the severity, but were taken with her comeliness, which was the cause as well of Their Compassion, as of her Ignominy: and if any one hating her past Life, was contented to see her punished, yet did they not praise it, as not proceeding from the Justice of an upright Judge, but from the Malice and Cruelty of a Passionate and Unjust Tyrant. She was well borne, and civilly brought up; her ruin was her being unequally Married: not that her Husband was not of good esteem amongst the Citizens, and according to his quality well to live: but for that she being of riper Years than he, the love which useth to be between equals was not between them; so as it was not hard for the King to win Her; He being Handsome, Lovely, and from whom Preferment and Respect (things much coveted by young Women) was to be hoped for. The King being Dead, the Chamberlain got possession of her: she was yet alive when Sir Thomas More wrote this History, but so much altered as it could not be said she had been handsome; though in her youth she wanted nothing of Beauty, but a little more Stature. Her outward gifts though very excellent were out done by the inward gifts of her Mind, which are much more esteemed when accompanied with a handsome Body. She had a Quick wit, was of a cheerful Humour, Prompt, Facetious, and Eloquent; borne to do Good, not Harm to any one: She obliged many who being fall'n from the King's good Opinion, were, for her sake, received again into favour: She caused confiscated Goods to be restored to many, without any manner of Avarice: she was more desirous to oblige others, then to enrich herself; more to Do good turns then to Receive them: Her Ambition was to be esteemed, and well thought of: She was always affable, never insolent. All of them conditions abundantly to be praised, but by which her fortune received no relief: for being first reduced to Poverty, and then to Old Age, her beauty lost, and her good turns Forgotten, she begged of those, who, if they had not formerly begged of Her, would have been more beggars than she. The Protector had given Order that on the same day whereon the Chamberlain was beheaded at London, the Earl of Rivers, and Lord Grace, the one brother, the other son to the Queen, (and brother, by the Mother's side to the King) should lose their heads at Pontefract: the two Knights that were seized on together with them at Northampton, bore them company in their punishment. The execution was done in presence of Sir Richard Ratcliff, a favourite of the Protectors, and one that partooke of his designs: who being naturally wicked, and known by him to be so, he thought he could not trust the managing of this business to one more wicked, and consequently more faithful than he. He made them be brought out of Prison, and being exposed to public view as Traitors they were beheaded without any other manner of Justice. He would not suffer them to speak, lest their innocency being made known, and commiserated, might make the Author thereof more odious. These being rid out of the way, as likewise the Chamberlain; and Stanley being hurt and a Prisoner, there remained no further obstacle; every man looking to himself, not troubling themselves with other men's affairs. And say there had been other rubs, they would have come out of time; the design being to be effected before they could be prepared to hinder it: and though there was neither pretence, nor least appearance thereof, every shadow or colour would serve the turn; for force if it be not able to make things be believed, it is sufficient to make Belief be Feigned. 'Tis dangerous for an unarmed man to dispute, and worse to give the lie to one that is in the posture of striking. But as the success of things cannot be represented upon a Theatre without the concourse of several personages requisite to the composure of the Story; so did it behoove him to make use of many others besides the above named, to the weaving of this Treason. Amongst the rest Sir Edmund Shaw, Lord Major of London, his brother john Shaw, and Pinker, Provincial of the Augustine Friars, were some: the first to draw the City to the Protectors will, and to suppress tumults; a very fit personage for this purpose, whose vanity did aspire to greatness, though by what so ever precipitious way, and whose ambition for the like cause did not detest the most enormous misdeed: the second and third Doctors of Divinity, and by the people esteemed famous Preachers; chosen to give Authority and Fervour, as is usual in such like actions: for such men pretending integrity of Profession, and minding nothing less, are the best means to seduce and irritate the People. But had not the fear men stood in of the Protector been of more force than their preaching, little progress would have been made in the business; for by their endeavours they had raised so Universal a hatred against them, that from the estimation they formerly were in, they fell into such a Detestation, as Doctor Shaw died for grief. The knot of this business lay in finding out a means to exclude the heirs of Edward the Fourth: and though he made no great account of the Duke of Clarence his heirs, yet did he not altogether contemn them, though they were but young, without or Friends or Favour. The pretences found out to this purpose were two: the first, that King Edward and the Duke of Clarence were both of them the issue of Adultery: that they were not sons to the Duke of York, whose only legitimate heir the Protector was. The second; that Edward's children were not only Bastards, as Children of a bastard, but as borne in an illegitimate Marriage; he having, before he married their Mother, engaged himself, by word to the Lady Lucy, who if she did not make good her claim, when she was interrogated thereupon, it was for fear; so as the Duchess of York Mother to them all three, laid it afterwards to Edward's conscience: therefore such Marriages being illegitimate before God, did exclude all Children therein begotten, from all pretences due to the lawful Heirs. I write not the Particulars of this Matrimonall dispute, because they have been sufficiently spoken of in the Life of Edward the Fourth, whereunto I refer the Reader. These pretences were to be to Preachers the subject of their Sermons, especially to Shaw, the introducer of them; and from the beginning partaker of the Counsel: the Augustine Friar, was afterwards employed therein; both of them behaving themselves in it with so bare-faced flattery as they nauseated the ears of their auditors. And because the First of these two points was out of measure scandalous, the whole House of York being thereby injured, and the Protectors Mother in particular defamed; they resolved not to Treat thereof in downright terms, but by way of circumspection, as if it should seem to be done out of a fear of offending the Protector. In the second point they were not mealy-mouthed, but did at large expatiate themselves. Shaw Preached at Paul's▪ Crosse taking his Text out of the Wisdom of Solomon: Spuria vitulamina non agent radices altas. The bastard slips shall take no deep rooting. Whereupon he discoursed amply, it being a subject plentiful in Examples, Sentences, and Apothegms taken out of both Holy and Profane writ; and seconded by the agreeing diversity of Fathers, Philosophers and Poets: He showed God's blessings to such as proceeded from lawful Matrimony; his Curses to such as were Adulterously begotten, the usurpation of Goods belonging to the lawfully begotten being an abomination in his Eyes: that therefore God would replant the lawfully begotten, and root out the contrary. Here falling upon the praises of Richard Duke of York, he made a long Panegyric; repeating his Titles to the Crown, confirmed by Parliament, and declared King after the Death of Henry the sixth; that the now Protector was his only legitimate Heir, as the only issue descended from him; King Edward and the Duke of Clarence, being by such as knew the secret passages of the House, not esteemed His: that they resembled Others who were very well known, more than Him; and did likewise so far differ from him in Virtue, as they could not descend from Him: That there was no dispute to be made of Edward's Sons, they being the Issue of a Marriage contracted whilst the Lady Lucy His First and True Wife was alive: so as the Protector was the only Legimate offspring of that house, in whom might easily be discerned his Father's manners, Image, and Valour: that therefore he was only to be looked upon: as he on whom the Laws by Nature, and the Heavens by Grace had conferred all their favours. The further Order herein taken was; that when Shaw should be entered into this Encomium, the Protector should appear; to the end that the People, hearing these things said at the instant of his arrival, might think Shaw inspired by the Holy Ghost, and might cry up Richard King: but he coming somewhat late, and the Preacher being passed on to some other matter, he quitted it at His appearing, turning disorderly and from the purpose, to what he had formerly said: This (said he) is that Noble Prince, the mirror of Chivalry; this is he that naturally represents the noble Duke his Father as well in the Lineaments of his Mind as Countenance: this is his very Figure, his true stamp, his undoubted Image, his full Resemblance; whose memory will never die so long as this man lives. Had he who says Vox Populi, Vox Dei, the People's voice is God's voice, seen how hushed all the Auditory was, he would have said The People's silence is God's silence: for being amazed to hear such bold and shameless impudence, they stood like so many Statues: in so great a concourse of People no one Voice or Gesture of applause was heard or seen either for Protector or Preacher, their conceived hopes were rendered vain; so as both of them being utterly out of Countenance the one returned much confused to his Palace, the other very Resolute to his House, where understanding by his friends how exceedingly He was blamed, He, a few days after Died for mere shame. The Protector for all this, ceased not to pursue his intent, being resolved, come what would come, to effect His desire. Audacity, Importunacy and Violence might effect that which Fraud, Calumny and Persuasion could not: so as having put the Chamberlain to death on the Thirteenth of july, and endeavoured three or four days after by Doctor Shaw's Preaching to seduce the People, on the one and Twentieth of the same Month he sent the Duke of Buckingham, accompanied by many Lords and Gentlemen, to the Major and Aldermen of London, with whom were likewise the Common Counsel of the City commanded purposely to attend. Where (being a very well spoken man) he made a long Narration of the last King's Actions, thereby to make his memory odious, and his Children incapable of succession. He said, He was come to propound unto them a weighty business, and of inestimable advantage to the whole Kingdom, and every Member thereof; the which contained in it the security of their Lives, their Wife's Honesty, and the safety of their Goods, which till that time had been subject to so many Robberies, Taxes, and Impositions; which being imposed without necessity, there was no hope of ever seeing an end of them: the ablest men amongst them were most subject to these miseries, as better endowed by Fortune then were the rest: and because these grievances were not sufficient to satisfy Avarice, great sums of Money were raised under Title of Benevolence: the Title taking from both the Name and Nature, that not being given with Good Will, which being not in the power of the Giver to withstand, was given by violence: the Good Will remaining only in the King, in His Desiring it, Receiving it, and thereby enriching his Coffers: things which though they were all insufferable, yet might they be endured, were they not come to that height as that Impositions passed on to Punishments Punishments to Ransoms, denial of the Benevolence to Contempt of the Laws, such contempt to Treason, which was the Trap-hole whereinto did fall the Lives and Livelyhoods of the impoverished and evilly treated Subject: so as so long and exemplary a Patience was not longer to be endured. He instanced in the Names of sundry that had come by Sinister ends, that their Goods might be seized on: he called the Auditors to witness; not any one of them being there, who had not had some feeling of these proceedings either in themselves or their friends. That plots had not been wanting to endanger their Lives and Goods: little things had been made great; mere Chimaeras, and imaginations, though in themselves vain, were made capable of Pretence: none was so poorly spirited or void of sense, but might invent some; any superficial colour being sufficient to ruin the People. Then falling upon discourse of the late Wars, he showed how his access unto the Crown was through much blood: That he came to it before his time; for during Henry the sixth his Life He had no pretence thereunto: The very imputation of being of the contrary faction was enough to make a rich Man a beggar: Great were the number of those that were impoverished; the one half of the Kingdom at least being then Lancastrians. He bade them consider how long the War endured; which if it were deplorable between two several Nations, and in a foreign Country, how much more miserable was it at Home, where the Son should be found to be against the Father, one Brother against Another, friends becoming Enemies? He forgot not to urge his flight into Flanders when he had lost the Kingdom: and how many men's lives his return cost, as well of those who adhered to Him, as of His opposers. He called to mind the many fought Battles, the cruelty used in Victories, the desolations of Cities, and Provinces; the Slaughters of so many of the Nobility, which were not for number and Valour to give way to whatsoever Empire, and which was not to be regained but in a long revolution of time: more blood being spent in a short time to lose themselves, than was lost in so many Years for the winning of France: That they had been but little bettered by Peace; rich Men not being secure of their Lives and Goods: an avaricious Tyrant, neither trusting nor loving one that had Power and Means: not trusting nor loving His Brother, he put him to a miserable Death. For what concerned Woman's reputation, it never had a more ensnaring Enemy, or Persecutor: since not contented to have deceived the Lady Lucy with promise of Marriage, and to have taken away the Wife of Shore, a Man of such esteem; (and here, though from the purpose, He fell to praise Shore, to captivate the good will of his fellow Citizens) he never cast his Eye upon Woman in his Life, that he desired not to enjoy; not regarding either the fear of God, nor his Own nor other men's Honour: trampling the Laws under foot, and those of Friendship and Blood; whilst a Prince, who is the Father of his Subjects, should abstain from so doing, as from Incest; his Women Subjects being his Daughters: Hence proceeded the Earl of Warwick's distastes; the illegitimate Marriage (if Marriage it might be called) with a Widow full of Children; and the renewing of a Civil War the cause of so many evils: and if reputation (which is for its own sake to be desired) were not the chief Ornament of Women, the establishing of Families, and of more worth than all Worldly Treasure; he ought to reverence it, if not as the general duty of All Princes (to whom it is not permitted to usurp what is another Man's, much less his Honour, the chiefest of all possessions) yet as his own Peculiar duty; being Obliged to the noble City of London the Metropolitan of so great a Kingdom, for that she had taken part with the House of York, assisted it in so many Wars with Expense, Blood and Danger; and not to repay it with Ingratitude, rendering evil for good, shame for Honour; and charging himself with an ignominy neither to be canceled in this World, nor forgotten in the World to come, without the extraordinary mercy of God, but was to be punished with like punishment as Tyranny, Lust and Ingratitude. But it was not to be wondered if He were such a Man; He was like to little Rivulets, which deriving themselves from Ditches and Marsh-grounds are thick and muddy: since not being of the House of York, He could not partake of the worth thereof; his actions showing He descended from some low and stinking original. That therefore they were to praise God, who drying up the Puddle, had given them a Spring, which, issuing from its undefiled Fountain, would not only water with his favours such as had deserved well of His House, but would make them bud forth by the opulency of his rewards. That He was sorry He could not fully express Himself upon this occasion; since the Duchess of York's reputation was therein concerned, as well Mother to the Protector (whom he feared to offend) as to King Edward: but necessity had enforced him to say more then willingly He would have done. He referred himself therein to what the Preacher had said the preceding Sabbath day at Paul's▪ Crosse; whose integrity was not to be contradicted, he being a Messenger of the Word of God, so wise, intelligent, and endowed with so much worth, as it would not suffer him to say any thing (especially upon such an occasion and in such a place) which was not certain truth: that great was the efficacy of truth, which had opened his Mouth, formerly shut up by the way of circumspection: that He had fully laid open the claim which the Protector Duke of Gloucester had to the Crown; since Edward's Children being illegitimate, as the issue of an unlawful Marriage, the Kingdom fell to him: the which being maturely considered, and therewithal the Valour and Worth of so gallant a Prince; the Nobility and Commons, especially them of the Northern parts, being resolved not to be governed by Bastards, they had resolved humbly to Petition Him that He would vouchsafe to take upon Him the Government of the Kingdom, which by Nature, and by the Laws belonged unto Him. For his part he knew not whether he would Accept of it, or no; for being free from all manner of Ambition, and sufficiently acquainted with the troubles of Government, he was afraid he would refuse it. Howsoever the necessity of the Kingdom being great, King Edward's Children not only excluded by the Laws, but very Young, he hoped that the threats of the holy Scripture, (Woe be to the Kingdom, whose King is a Child) would move him to condescend to the general supplication of the State; which needing a Prince of mature age, who might be Wise, and of Experience, would never cease to call upon him till they were heard in what they desired: That he had taken upon him the charge of delivering the Petition, but considering it might be the more graciously accepted if the Citizens of London would join with him therein, he was come to entreat them that weighing the Public good, and their own particular advantage, they would be the first that might do it; and that their forwardness herein would make him more favour the City than all the preceding Princes had done. His Speech being ended, and expecting when the people, applauding his discourse, should cry up Richard King, he was amazed to find the contrary: he found he was abused in his hopes of the Lord Majors having prepared them for it; so as drawing near unto the Major he asked him what might be the reason of the people's so great Reservedness and silence? who not knowing what to say, answered he thought his Grace was not well understood: whereupon, believing that that might be the cause of their silence, and that his eloquence might yet prevail with them, he in a louder tone and in other words repeated all he had said before; whereat all that heard him marvelled; for he could not have spoken better though he had penned it, and gotten it without Book. But for all this the people altered not their silence. He then would have had the Recorder of London to repeat once more what he had said: wherein he desired to be excused, as being but lately entered upon the Office, and not having as yet had any occasion to speak unto the people: but the truth was, he did not like the business, thinking it to be unjust. Yet notwithstanding, the Major urging him, and alleging that the Dukes too eloquent and Courtlike Speech was not well understood, he unwillingly obeyed; interposing ever and anon this Parenthesis (He says) to the end they might not believe his Vote went with it. But the people still more deaf then formerly, the Duke said unto the Major; He never met with so obstinate a silence; and preparing to speak a third time, he said, He was come hither to persuade them to concur in a business, wherein peradventure their assistance would not be requisite: for the Nobility and Commons of the other Provinces would do it without them; but that he bearing a particular affection to that Noble City, did not desire it should be done without them, but rather would have them have the first part therein. He desired them to say, whether in conformity with the rest of the Kingdom, they would name the most Noble Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, at the present Protector of the Kingdom, for their King. To the which, though no man answered, yet was not the silence so great as before: for one whispering in another's ear, a noise was heard, much like the noise of a Hive of Bees: but in the lower end of the Hall, where were many servants, and shop-boyes, who in the crowd were gotten in, they began to cry aloud (the Duke's servants being the Ringleaders) Long live King Richard: throwing their Hats up: but the Citizens turning about to see what the matter might be, continued their former silence. The Duke wisely making use of this disorder, and being seconded by the Major, said: He was much overjoyed to hear, that with so much conformity, and without one Negative voice, they had desired this Noble Prince for their King; he would acquaint him with it, so as it should redound to their advantage. He wished them to be ready; for the next morning he would present him with their supplication; to the end that the Pròtectour might be persuaded to accept of the Kingdom, so much desired by Them, and by the Kingdom. Which being said, he went away, few or none appearing well pleased. The next morning the Major assembled all the Aldermen, and chief of the Common-counsel of the City into Paul's Church, from whence they went to Baynard's Castle, the place where the Kings of England had formerly kept their Courts, where the Protector now lay, and where according to appoinment made came the Duke of Buckingham, accompanied with a great number of Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, who sent word to the Protector, that a great many men of great account were ready there to wait upon his Grace in a business of great importance. The Protector seemed unwilling to come down the stairs, and give them admittance (as if the business had been New unto him) feigning as though their unexpected coming, the cause not known why, had made him somewhat jealous. Buckingham by this His refusal strongly argued the Protectors integrity, as being far from imagining what the business now in hand was. He sent him word again, that the business was not to be imparted to any save Himself; securing him in so humble and submissive a way, as was sufficient to have wrought belief in one who had really doubted. He at the last appeared, having two Bishops by his sides, in a bay-window, which looks out upon the Hall. The Duke of Buckingham, making a low reverence, begged two things of him: the one, that he would suffer them to make an humble supplication to him: the other, that he would pardon them, in case it should not prove acceptable to him; for though it aimed at nothing but his Honour, and the good of the Kingdom, yet he was afraid his Modesty (he being a Prince endued with so much worth) might take it in a contrary sense to their intention. The Protector answered: He was so confident of their integrity, as He hoped they would say nothing that might displease Him; He therefore granted the Leave and pardon they demanded. Buckingham, after having made a long digression of the Kingdom's grievances, which were not to be cured but by a Prince of his virtue and endowments, said: That they were expressly come humbly to desire him, that the unlawful birth of his brother King Edward's children considered (not daring to touch upon the birth of Edward's self) he would vouchsafe (for his own innate Goodness, for the Zeal he had ever borne to the Weal of the People, and for the Compassion, which upon this present occasion, more than upon any other whatsoever, was to shine forth in him) together with the Government of the Kingdom, to accept of the Crown, to the glory of God, and Country's safety: being he might rest assured, that never did any Prince reign whose people did think themselves so happy, as would His people think themselves most happy under Him. The Protector, as if offended at this request, with angry look, answered: That though much of what he had said was true, yet the love he bore to his brother King Edward, his affection to his Children, and his regard unto his own Honour, would not permit him to accept of such a burden: for it was to be believed, that should he depose his Nephews, and make himself King, the ignorant and malignant would accuse him to all the Princes of the World, as if he had done it not out of the right pretence he had thereunto, or being enforced to it by the People's importunacy, and necessity of the Kingdom (which, to say truth, could not be in worse condition than it was) but through his own Ambition: Yet knowing their good intentions, he did not only pardon them, but returned them thanks, since he conceived it proceeded from the love they bore him; the which he desired might be turned to the King, under whose government they now lived, whom he with his person and best advice would serve; hoping to put the affairs of the Kingdom into so good order, as they should not have any thing to wish for: as (he praised God) he had given some testimony since his being Protector; notwithstanding the malignity of some, which had rather been suppressed by Divine Providence, then by Humane Wisdom. This answer being given, the Duke of Buckingham stepped aside, as if to consult with the Noblemen, the Lord Major, and the Recorder of the City: the which being done, he desired pardon again; and having obtained it, he said with a Loud voice, as if he were somewhat moved or heated: That the Kingdom was absolutely resolved not to permit Edward's Children to reign; not so much for that they had proceeded so far in their requests they were not to hope for Pardon, as for that the Public good required it: That therefore he beseeched him to accept of the Crown, which if he would not do, they should be enforced to offer it to one that would not refuse it. The Protector seemed to be afraid of these threats; he seemed sorrowful, that they should have so ill a conceit of his brother's issue: He confessed he could not govern or reign without their good wills; therefore their resolution being such, and there being none to whom the Crown did of right belong but to Him, being legitimately descended from the Duke of York: and that to his Natural and Lawful Titles, there was added his now Election, the chiefest of all the rest; He yielded to their entreaties and requests: by accepting the Crown, and taking upon him from this time forward the State and Regal pre-eminence of the two Kingdoms of England and France: the former whereof should be Commanded, Governed, and Defended by Him and his Heirs: the other by God's assistance and theirs Regained; that so it might be in perpetuity established under the obedience of England, whose greatness and reputation he so much coveted, as he desired God he might live no longer, than his life might be serviceable to this end. The which being said, they cried aloud King Richard, King Richard, the Artillery playing their part. The Lords went up to him where he was, to kiss his hand, whilst the People departing, spoke as lewdly of him as they might: being displeased at nothing more than at the counterfeit carriage of the business, which being plotted and resolved upon long before, there had notwithstanding been so many stage-like actions used therein, as if it had never been thought of till then: and as if choice had been made of the Spectators as of so many of the most senseless and stupid people of the Land. The End of the Seventh Book. THE EIGHTH BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND In the Life of Richard the Third. Kingdoms which belong to others are not usurped without violent means; of all which War is the least unblamable, though the most harmful. A valiant usurper is like your Highway robber who bids the traveller stand, and if he take away his purse does it with his Sword in hand. Richard took not this way in his usurping the Crown: not that he wanted courage (for of the good qualities he was endued withal, Valour was the only one which was not counterfeit) but because he found none that did withstand him. Deceit, fraud, cruelty, and treachery were the means he used: one or two of which being sufficient to other men, they did not all serve his turn; for he invented one beyond imitation or example; the defaming of his mother. Had he who wrote the book De Principe met with this subject, he would have quit Duke Valentine, and taken this man for the pattern of his tyrant. Not that the difference between them was great, but for that that was, was in the most essential points. Valentine's vices, if they were not more execrable, yet were they more dishonest. Richard's were more execrable, but more secure. And though both were bad beyond belief, yet Richard by the death of a few infused terror into the rest, and made himself a King; where Valentine by the death of very many could keep his own Principality. And if it be said, that Richard weakened the Kingdom and its forces by taking off the heads of such as might have made themselves heads of the people, and so have withstood him; that being of the Blood-royal, he had many that sided with him: whereas Valentine on the contrary, had Provinces, Princes, and Republics for his enemies: the wary wickedness of the one will be the more remarkable, who knew his advantage; and the unwary rashness of the other, who assisted only by Ecclesiastical forces, terminable with the Pope's death, undertook what was not to be effected, or at least not long to be made good. The ambition of getting the Kingdom began in Richard during his brother's life: and having formerly plotted the whole affair, he laid the first groundwork thereof by the death of Henry the sixth, and the Duke of Clarence; and in process of time, he finished the Fabric by putting those to death who were likely to oppose him: and by terrifying the rest, he made his election, which was made by the base sort of people, be as available as if it had been legally resolved upon by the whole Kingdom: and which is further observable, he pretended not to accept of it, till entreated and enforced. Arguments of a head-piece, which had it been employed in good enterprises, instead of proving the most lewd might have been the wisest than to be found. For all things else, there was no evil which he committed not: He betrayed his Nephews, and then slew them: he cheated his brother's wife; and together with her, those whom he made use of as instruments to remove the little Duke of York from the Sanctuary: in the height of cruelty and irreligion, he counterfeited the perfection of piety, and tenderness of blood: All his actions were larded with fraud and lies: the Queen and her brother were by him persuaded to lay down their arms; the later whereof he imprisoned and beheaded: in like manner he incensed and slew the Chamberlain: He sacrilegiously divulged his mother to be an Adultress in a place appropriated for preaching the Word of God; declared his nephews to be Bastards, counterfeited the good he had not, concealed the evil he had; was like to none but to himself. Encomiums worthy of such qualities; (and qualities unworthy of that Crown, which consisting of Honour, was whilst he wore it dishonoured by his wickedness. He omitted not any show of sorrow at his brother's death: he solemnised his Funerals at York, with the rites of mourning. But whilst aiming at usurpation, he seemed to be fond of his nephews, whom he intended to betray, he minded not divine admonitions, which manifesting themselves by sundry ways, are wont by way of observation to advertise us of dangers, to the end that reforming ourselves we may change our lives and thoughts from bad to good: for Christian virtues are able to frustrate that which the Ancients called Fate, by withdrawing us from vice and procuring the divine Providence to protect us. The observations here meant are, that all the (Kings) Richards, and all the Dukes of Gloucester came to violent ends: an observation redoubled in him, being by name, Richard; and by title, Duke of Gloucester. Such like observations, though they be not superstitiously to be believed, yet are they not slightly to be despised. But the proud man considers no other interest, no not the concernment of his life, so his ambition may be satisfied: upon which his spirits were wholly bend; and upon the arriving whereunto he out did himself. He made his vices virtues. He became courteous liberal, and affable, especially to Lawyers: he studied nothing but justice, observance of the Laws, and the people's indemnity: by which arts he prevailed so far, as the Crown, which was tumultuously conferred upon him, was legally offered him by the Parliament; which with base flattery entreated him to accept of it, out of these reasons. That the Kingdom of England had been very happy under the government of wise Kings, assisted by understanding Counsellors: but when their successors began to govern themselves according to their own fancies, she fell into all manner of misery: The chiefest of which, and from which all the mischiefs of the present time did derive, was Edward the fourth's unfortunate pretended marriage with Elizabeth widow to Sir john Grace (who did still assume to herself the title of Queen) which had perverted all the orders not only of God and the Church, but of nature and the Kingdom: there being now no more propriety, nor any condition which was not subject to fears; since the Laws either abandoned or abused were rendered useless and of no protection. Hence proceeded faults of all sorts; murders, extortions, and such oppressions as men had no security neither of their lives nor fortunes; much less of their wives or daughters: all women were subject to violence; nor was any one though she should refuse, safe in her Honour. To this might be added the blood of so many of the Nobility, of hundred thousands of the Communality, shed in the late wars, to the universal prejudice of all men, and to the greatest sufferance of the most innocent. That the forenamed pretended marriage was Clandestine, made without the knowledge or consent of the Nobility: the Devil was the author thereof, witchcraft the means, Elizabeth the chief agent, and her mother, the Duchess of Bedford, her coadjutrix: that so it was believed; and when time and place should serve it would be proved. But that which chiefly aggravated this business, was, That King Edward was long before married to another Lady, when he took her to his wife; so as in living with her, contrary to the Laws of God, and of the Church, in continual adultery, his sons by her were bastards, and, as such, incapable of succession. That by this so heinous sin, and to the prejudice of the true heir, he had provoked God's anger, who had therefore forsaken him, and brought the Kingdom into all those miseries. For these and other reasons they were enforced to elect a King, who by nature, and by the Law was undoubted heir unto the Crown. And because the Duke of Clarence convict of high treason in the seventeenth year of the reign of his brother Edward, had by his Attainder rendered his issue incapable of succession▪ therefore the Protector, being the only undoubted son and heir of Richard Duke of York, He and no other was undoubted successor; not reckoning in his virtues which were such as of themselves made him worthy of the Crown: he being so richly endowed, especially with justice, wisdom, and valour, witnessed in so many actions and battles, wherein he had personally been, showing his natural inclination to the common good. Whereupon having no other respect but the peace and tranquillity of the Kingdom, his prosperity and ancient reputation, they had chosen him their King and Sovereign Lord. Entreating him to accept the charge; as well by Title of Inheritance, as of Election: they promising for their parts that they would be his good and faithful Subjects▪ ready upon this and any good occasion to live and die with him: for the oppressions and extortions they had suffered, contrary to the Laws of God and the Kingdom, had made them resolve to run what ever danger, rather than to live in the miseries they hitherto had done. They called upon Alinighty God the King of Kings, to inspire him with his light, and to continue unto him in his Regal dignity, those praiseworthy parts, by means whereof he deserved to be King, though he were not. And that though his right needed not any public Acts of Parliament (he being King and heir unto the Crown without them) yet in regard the people might be ignorant of the cause of the deposing the one, and assuming the other; for this cause, and to remove all doubts that might arise, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons assembled in Parliament, had in full Parliament pronounced, decreed, and declared, that Richard the third their Sovereign Lord, was whilst he should live the undoubted King of England, and of all that within or without belonged thereunto; and after him his heirs: That the high and mighty Prince Edward his son was his heir apparent; and after him those who should descend from him. This decree being registered among the Acts of Parliament and approved of by King Richard, with order to be held authentical in all the parts thereof, made it be understood, that the Kings of England have power to do what they will; when they are either loved for their virtues, or feared for their force. For what concerns love, there is no proof in this present case; but of fear, sufficient, fear being the prinium mobile of this business. Richard having by the assistance of the Duke of Buckingham and their adherent raised a powerful faction; the lawful King being a Child, and prisoner; the Tyrant a man of brains, well-spoken, and of reputation in arms, not likely to undertake such a business unless certain to effect it: all men doubting themselves: since their forces being cut off, and those put to death which might have reunited them, they were exposed to the violence of so cruel a man as Richard; who had given proof of his cruelty by his detaining the King, by his taking the Duke of York from the Sanctuary, by his impudence in declaring them to be Bustards, and by his shamelessness in publishing his mother to be a whore, to boot with the death of so many Peers. This fear was that which gave a mask to the flatteries of Parliament, and which furnished it with some colour of pretence drawn from Doctor Shaw's Sermon, and the speeches made by the Duke of 〈◊〉 in the City-Hall. Richard being thus confirmed and believing to settle his tyranny by resting it upon un-accustomed circumstances, he went into Westminster-hall, sat him down in the King's Bench where in doubtful cases the Kings of England had wont anciently to sit, and where he avowed his accepting of the Crown: the which he expressed in a formal Oration, and in a manner so well composed as those who had not known him, would have thought England had never been blest with so good a King: and to colour with the show of clemency his innate cruelty, he caused one Fog who had taken Sancturary, and whom he had always mortally hated, to be brought before him; he took him by the hand in fight of all the people, and made professions of loving him now as much as he had formerly hated Him: by which act he made a great impression in the simpler sort; but those who were better advised knew that this was but a Bait wherewith to catch better fish. In his return to his Palace, He courteously saluted such as He knew loved Him not, thinking by this servile flattery to infatuate their minds, and to establish his government. Yet for all this he durst not rely upon his present fortune; He ascertained His Coronation by unaccustomed forces; causing five thousand men to come from the Northern parts of the Kingdom, in whom he trusted, aswell for that they took part with the House of York, as likewise that living in remote parts, they were not acquainted with his actions, as were the Londoners; who having him always in their eye, abhorred Him. These Northern men appeared ill clad, and worse armed, which made them be but laughed at: for 'twas thought that if He should have occasion to make use of them, they would not serve His turn; and that 'twas neither these forces not yet greater but a mere Fatality which had precipitated England into so dire and miserable a subjection. The last act of His possessing the Crown was His Coronation, all things thereunto belonging being ready, as prepared for His Nephew's Coronation. He went with his Wife and His Son to the Tower; where the next day He created the Lord Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk; Thomas Howard, Son to the same man He created Earl of Surrey: He made William Barckley Earl of Nottingham; and the Lord Francis Lovel Viscount and Lord Chamberlain: and He made seventeen Knights of the Bath. The Archbishop of York, the Lord Stanley, and the Bishop of Ely had been prisoners in the Tower ever since the Chamberlain lost his Head; He set the first at liberty, finding himself peaceably possessed of the Kingdom, otherwise He would not have done it; for being an honest man he would never have given his consent to the deposing of the true King: He freed the second out of fear; for His Son, the Lord Strange was raising great forces in Lancashire (a place wherein He had great Power and was mightily followed) it behoved him to appease Him: but He did not set the Bishop of Ely at liberty, who was a faithful servant to King Edward; for He was certain He would never condescend to his children's deprivation, nor to the unjust ways whereby He usurped the Kingdom: whereof He had made trial in the Counsels held in the Tower, whilst by oblique means He set the business on foot. The Bishop was of no great birth; but having lived a long time in good repute in Oxford, he was taken from thence, being but bare Doctor, by Henry the sixth, and made a Privy-counselor: Edward, knowing his integrity, kept him still in that condition, and chose Him at His death to be one of his Executors. Richard therefore, fearing Him, would have kept Him still in Prison, though He set the others at liberty; had not the University of Oxford (which He did always very much favour) interceded for Him: so that desirous in part to satisfy the University, He was content to take him from the Tower, as being too public a place: but that He might not have His free liberty, He committed him to the custody of the Duke of Buckingham, who sent Him to a Castle of His in Brecknockshire; where they jointly laid the first groundwork of Richard's ruin. He together with his Wife was Crowned in great pomp the sixteenth of july: his Wife was daughter to the great Earl of Warwick, who had made and unmade the two preceding Kings, and Widow to Edward, Son to Henry the sixth Prince of Wales: to whom she was give in marriage, when Edward the Fourths ruin was agreed upon in France. So as being destined to be a Queen, it was her ill fortune to be one by his means who had slain her former husband, and married her only for that she, together with her Sister, Wife to the Duke of Clarence, were great Heirs. I will not treat of this Coronation; it tends not to our purpose. The solemnity being ended, he dismissed all the Lords that they might return to their own homes: recommending to such as were in Office, the due Administration of Justice without extortion or injury, the execution of the Laws, and Liberty of the Subjects as not willing to have any thing ill done but by himself He dismissed not the Lord Stanley, till such time as his Son Strange had disbanded the forces he had raised. He also dismis●… the five thousand which he had caused to come for his Guard from the North having spoken them fair and rewarded them: whereupon they went away so well pleased, as becoming thereupon insolent, they forced him to go in person into those parts, to appease the tumults they had there raised, the which could not be done but by the death of many of them. He forthwith sent to Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, touching the continuance of the League made with his brother Edward: but his Ambassador arriving after his Nephew's death, Lewis would not afford him audience, esteeming his friendship unworthy of any humane correspondency. In what concerned their death, he demeaned himself in this sort. He first withdrew himself to Gloucester, the place of his Patrimony and Title, his conscience not permitting him to be in the place where his cruelty was to surpass the cruelty of all other tyrants. He might have kept them prisoners without any manner of danger, since they had no friends: and so he might not have arrived to the height of hatred he did after their death. But he, not esteeming himself King, whilst they were alive, sent his trusty servant john Greene with Letter to Sir Robert Brakenbury, Constable of the Tower, wherein he commanded the to put them to death; who, abhorring the act returned answer: He would rather die himself then obey him therein. Richard hereby perceived he was not arrived at that power he thought he had been; since any one durst disobey him in any how unjust soever a Command: so as not able to quiet himself, nor to take any rest in his bed, his page who usually lay in his Chamber, desired His Majesty he would be pleased to acquaint him with the reason of his disquiet. To whom he replied, he was miserable, not having any one on whom to trust: that he was repaid with ingratitude, and his service denied by those, who having been befriended by him, should think themselves happy when blessed with an occasion of doing him service. The page not knowing the cause of his complaint, but well acquainted with his nature, thought the command must be horrid which any one durst disobey: and calling a Gentleman to mind who lay on a pallet bed in the Ante-chamber, he named him to Richard; and told him, there was not that thing of danger nor difficulty which he would not undertake. His name was james Tirrell: He might have passed for a well-conditioned man, had he not been corrupted by dishonest ambition; he had left nor did leave no stone unturned whereby to get preferment in Court, which was his element: but was discontented being held back by Richard Ratcliff and William Catesby, who governed the King, and werenot desirous of a third companion, that surpassing them in audacity, might surpass them in fortune and put them from the favour they possessed. This Page was a friend of his, and knew his discontents; so as thinking to do him a good turn (whilst he could not have done a worse) he propounded him to King Richard: who knowing his quality, rose out of his bed to make trial of him; and throwing a nightgown about him, he went where Tirrell lay, and Thomas Tirrell, his brother by Blood, but not in conditions. He awaked him; and acquainted him with what he desired craving his aid therein. james was not at all amazed, but undertook the business; and was the next day dispatched with Letters to Brakenbury, wherein he was commanded to deliver up the Keys of the Tower for one night to this Tirrell, to the end he might do what he had in command. The Constable obeyed and delivered the Keys. The two innocent children had been more strictly kept after their uncle had quitted the title of Protector, and assumed that of the King: they were not only debarred visits, but had their servants taken from them; and had each of them two assigned to wait on them whom they knew not: and that rather in place of Guardians than servants. The Prince knew what was done to his prejudice: he knew he was no longer King: that his Uncle was crowned. Nature pointed forth unto him his danger; the apprehension and fear whereof was augmented by his tender age, subject to weakness: he thought no longer of the loss of his Kingdom, neither did he much value it; he though only on his Life: which being by the instinct of nature desired, and to be hoped for, (though as a prisoner) it might, in all reason, have been granted him. He sighing said to him that brought him the first tidings that his Uncle had bereft him of his Crown, He did not greatly care; so as together with it he would not take his Life away. After this time he never put off his clothes, nor ever went out of his Chamber; but being together with his brother full of sad thoughts he kept his Chamber till the coming of this miserable night. Of the four that waited upon them, Tirrell chose Miles Forest, a man from his youth brought up in blood; to whom he gave for his companion john Dighton, the groom of his stable, a lusty strong rascal. He made them go at midnight into the Chamber where they slept, and where wrapped up in their Bed-clothes, they stopped their mouths with the Bolster and Pillows, and so stifled them. The business was soon dispatched. Tirrell forthwith buried them under a great heap of Rubbish at the stair-foot in a deep hole: which being done he hasted to horse, to acquaint the King with what had past; who together with other favours did at the instant Knight him (as some relate) being well pleased with all that had been done, save their Burial. He had no scruple of mind to usurp their Crown, they being the true Heirs; nor to murder them, being innocent: but He was troubled that being the Sons of a King and of His blood, they should be buried in so contemptible a place: whereupon the Chaplain of the Tower took them from thence, and buried them elsewhere; but he dying soon after himself, 'twas never known where he laid them. Some will have it that he put their bodies in a Coffin of Lead, and sunk it in the Thames mouth. 'Tis certain that Tirrell being imprisoned in the Tower for treason in Henry the Sevenths' time, confessed what had been said, after the same manner 'tis here, not knowing what became of their bodies after they were taken from the place were he had buried them. He suffered for other faults the punishment he deserved for this: as did likewise the rest. God doth not always punish all faults in an instant; but seldom suffers evil actions to have good ends: for being approved of neither by men nor by the Laws, if they escape one punishment, they fall upon another; and for their second fault receive the punishment due for the former. As long as Richard lived after this, He was both outwardly and inwardly troubled with fears and agonies; and according to the relations of some that were most inward with him, He after this so execrable act, enjoyed not one hour of quiet: his countenance was changed, his eyes were troubled and ghastly, He wore coats of Male underneath his clothes; and had almost continually, His hand upon His Daggers-hilt ready to strike, as if He had then been strucken: He spent whole nights in watching; and if at any time He chanced to take a little rest, He would be wakened with fearful Dreams, which would force him to quit His bed, and so walk up and down His chamber full of prodigious fears. The other two though they escaped humane Justice, yet were they met with all by Justice from above: for Miles Forest died having almost all his members first rotten, and then cut off: if Deighton fared not altogether so ill, yet was he in daily expectation to be made an exemplary spectacle by some ignominious death; for it is affirmed by one who writes of him, that in his time he was alive in Calais, but so universally hated and detested by all men, that he was pointed at as he went along the streets: Others affirm that he lived and died there in great misery. The first intestine troubles which Richard was afflicted withal, were occasioned by the bad intelligence which was held between Him and the Duke of Buckingham. What the occasion thereof might be is only known by conjecture; yet such as is not likely to err: They were both naturally proud; therefore prone to break; and though Buckingham first endeavoured Glocesters' friendship before Gloucester His, he did it not in respect of his alike Genius, but fearing lest he might fall from the greatesse he was in, under the authority of the Queen and her kindred; to shun this Rock, he gave against the Other: which though it were the more dangerous, yet did he rather choose to submit himself to a Superior who was borne great, then to his Inferiors who had acquired greatness. It is said that Edward being dead, he sent his servant Persall presently to York where Richard then was; who being privately admitted by night, made offer unto him of his Master's service in this change of King; and that if need should be, his master would come unto him in Person waited on by a Thousand fight men: that he made the same be said over to him again when he came to Nottingham: and that when he returned to York he went to visit him attended by three hundred horse; where a close friendship being contracted between them, things followed as hath been said, even to the Usurpation of the Crown: after which they cooled in their affections, to the amazement of those who observed their friendship: for they came to the point of not Trusting one another; and 'twas thought moreover, that in the last journey to Gloucester, Buckingham ran hazard of his life. The cause of their distaste was supposed to arise from some claim Buckingham had to the Duke of hertford's Lands, for that reputing himself to be his Heir, he thought that Richard would not have denied them unto him, neither in Justice nor yet in Recompense of his service. But these Lands were so linked to the Crown as that being fall'n from the house of Lancaster upon the late deposed Henry, and from Him upon the Crown, they were to be free from any private propriety or pretention; which still continuing in the Duke, Richard feared lest his thoughts might exceed the condition of a Subject: insomuch as when Buckingham demanded them, he received so sharp, so threatening, and so scornful a denial as not able to endure it, he feigned himself sick, that so he might not be at the Coronation; and Richard sent him word that if he would not come, he would make him be brought thither: whereupon he was forced to go in all the rich and stately Equipage which at an Extraordinary charge he had prepared before their distastes. Others notwithstanding will have that the distastes between them rose after this, not having as Then any being: that the King standing in need of him, would not have hazarded the losing of him in that manner; and that the Duke, very well acquainted with his Nature, would not have hazarded his Life, being assured that upon any whatsoever occasion, he could not expect better dealings than his Nephews had met withal. Notwithstanding the first opinion was thought true, in respect of his proud behaviour; as likewise for that in the very act of Richard's Coronation, he turned his Eyes another way as Repenting he had been the occasioner of it: and that Richard though he knew him to be distracted, treated him civilly, and presented him at his departure to Gloucester; but his Alienation grew after he was come to his house at Brecknock, and had had discourse with Dr. Morton Bishop of Ely. This Bishop was a learned man, and of a good life; a constant part-taker with Henry the sixth, neither did he ever forsake him even till his imprisonment. He fled with the Queen and Prince into France, and returned with them into England. But their affairs succeeding ill, and Edward being established in the Kingdom, He was by him received into favour for knowing him to have been Loyal to his First master, he thought he would be the like to Him; so as leaving him Executor of his last Will and Testament, he continued his wont loyalty to his Children: which Richard knowing to be such as was unalterable, he put him in the Tower, and afterwards assigned him to the custody of the Duke of Buckingham, with whom discoursing of Richard's iniquities, he gave the rise to his Ruin: for they found the true way to put a period to the Civil wars by marrying Henry Earl of Richmond to Edward's eldest daughter. But having retired himself to Rome with intention not to meddle any more in Worldly affairs, he returned not till sent for by the said Earl when he was King: by whom he was made Archbishop of Canterbury, and Chancellor of England; and who likewise procured him to be made Cardinal: in which Honours he died as virtuously as he had lived. This man at the Dukes return found a great alteration in him towards Richard. He hoped to work some good effect thereout; not by propounding any thing, but by seconding his opinions: in which he governed himself so well, as the more averse he showed himself to what indeed he did desire, the more provoked he an eagerness in the Duke to discover what he sought to hide: so as exagerating England's happiness fall'n into the government of so wise a Prince, whilst under the government of a Child, guided by persons interessed, and hated, it must have been ruinated; The Bishop answered, He must confess the truth; (being sure that by doing otherwise he should not be believed) that if things lately passed had been to be decided by Votes, he should have voted that after Henry the sixths' death, the Crown should have gone to his son Prince Edward, and not to King Edward: but that both of them being dead, it had been great folly in him not to comply with the new King, since the dead do not revive: That he had behaved himself to Edward in all things as a faithful Subject and Servant ought to do to his King and Master: That he would have done the like to his Children, had they succeeded Him in His Kingdom: but God having otherwise disposed of them, his pretences were not to raise up that which God would keep down: And for what concerned the now King, formerly Protector—; Here he held his peace, as if he had unadvisedly fall'n upon that discourse; but after a whiles silence he pursued to say, That he had already too much troubled himself with Worldly affairs; 'twas now time to retire himself, and consider nothing but his Books, and his own quiet. The silence that unexpectedly interrupted the discourse which the Duke desired to have heard finished, made his desire thereof the greater; so as thinking he had held his peace, as not being confident of him, he desired him to speak his mind Boldly, assuring him he should be so far from receiving Damage thereby, as that it might redound more to his Advantage than he imagined: That he had begged his Guardianship of the King for no other end, but that he might better himself by his wise Counsels; and that if He had been in any other man's custody, He could not have met with one that would have set such a value upon his worth, as did he. The Bishop thanked him, replying, That it was not his desire to speak of Princes since they made the world to be not what it was, but what it seemed best to them. Then when the Lion banished all Horn'd-beasts out of the Woods, one that had a little Wen in his forehead fled away with the rest; and being demanded by the Fox, why he fled? he answered, because of the proclaimed banishment. Yea but thou hast no Horns (said the Fox.) 'tis true, I have none, (said the other animal;) but if the Lion should say this Wen were a Horn, who durst say the contrary? In what case should I be? The Duke was well pleased with a Fable, yet could he not persuade him there was no Lion should do him any harm. The Bishop said: It was not his intention to dispute the Protectors title, who was now King: but since their treaty concerned the Commonwealth, whereof he was a member, he wished it an addition of perfections to the many it already was endowed withal; and amongst these, some of those with which God had adorned Him (the Duke.) This being said, he held his peace, much to the others displeasure; who was grieved, that whilst the Bishop's discourse promised Much, he had said just Nothing: whilst the comparison between the King and Him required not so dark but more intelligible explication. He told him, these many clouds of Diffidence injured their friendly communication, assuring him, that whatsoever he should say, since it proceeded from a personage he so much honoured, it should be as if it had not been said at all. Upon these words the Bishop resolved freely to unbosom himself; encouraged by the Duke's vanity, who loved to hear himself praised, and by the Hatred he had now discovered he bore unto the King. Whereupon he said, He had read, that man was not borne for Himself alone, for his Friends or Parents, but Chiefly for his Country; that this consideration had moved him to take into his thoughts the present condition of this Kingdom, his native soil; the which, (in comparison of former times) 'twas a wonder if it were not utterly ruined. That there had been Kings under whose government it had happily flourished, the love between them and their Subjects being reciprocal; their interests being the same: At home Peace, Justice and Security; Abroad Victory, Honour, and Trophies: But now the world was much altered; there was but only one hope left, which was in Him (the Duke) for considering his Public Zeal, his Learning, his Wisdom, Wit, and so many other endowments, the Kingdom in the midst of so great misery could have recourse to none but Him: and that it had no Haven wherein to save itself during this tempest in which it was agitated, but the safe Road of His government, out of which it was certain to suffer Shipwreck: That it could not be denied but that the Protector (who now styled himself King) was endowed with Virtues, which made him worthy of the Kingdom, did he not reign: but that these his virtues were corrupted by so many Old and New vices, that they had lost both their Quality and Name; a wicked Prince converting Virtue into Vice, as Vipers and Toads do Nourishment into Poison: That there was no example in the usurping a Crown comparable with his for Wickedness: He had procured it without any pretence of Law: contrary to the laws of Humanity, making his way thereunto by the Death of so many Worthy and Innocent persons: contrary to the law of Nature, by calumniating his Mother; whom he would have to be honest only when she conceived him: contrary to the Laws of the Church; by declaring his Nephews to be borne in Unlawful Matrimony: contrary to them All together, by being their Executioner; so as their Blood, crying to Heaven for Revenge, warned every man to beware of his life; for if to possess Himself of a Kingdom, he had not spared Their lives who were Nearest in Blood unto Him, he would muchless spare the lives of Others that were Nothing at all unto Him, so to usurp what belonged to them. To shun therefore the Rocks they were likely to run upon, he humbly desired him, That as he loved God, his own House, and his native Country, he would accept the Crown; free it from the captivity whereinto it was fall'n; and if he would not do this, he conjured him by the obligations he ought to God, that he would do his uttermost to change the Government; since upon whomsoever it should fall, it must needs redound to the public service: but if He would assume it, God would be therewithal well pleased, He and his House secured, the Kingdom obliged; and all the World would thank him. When he had ceased speaking, the Duke stood a good while pensive with his eyes fixed: whereat the bishop was much astonished; insomuch as his colour changed. In such like matters men are not satisfied with silence, nor mental replies, which argue peril and prejudice. But supper time broke off their discourse, which the Duke adjourned till the morrow morning: and perceiving the bishop to be much troubled, he entreated him not to be disquieted at this delay, assuring him he would keep promise with him: which did not notwithstanding satisfy the Bishop, who was as desirous to know the Duke's intention now, as the Duke was earnest to know his the day before. But he failed him not in what he had promised him: for having handsomely and methodically gone over all that the other had said, he laid his Hat upon the Table, and calling devoutly upon God, he thanked him for that they being amidst so many tempests and dangers, in a good, but ill-governed ship, he had been pleased to enlighten them, by affording them a means how to provide themselves of a Steersman, who being one that would give satisfaction, would bring safety and welfare to the Kingdom. Then taking up his Hat, and putting it on his head, he thanked the Bishop for the affection he had ever found in him, especially at this time, in this their weighty and trusty communication: his fidelity and zeal unto his Country, together with so many other unfeigned circumstances, and void of self-interest, rendering him worthy to be esteemed the honest man that all men thought him: He was sorry his deserts had not met with a fortune worthy of him; but he assured him that if God should at any time bless him with means to show his gratitude, he would not fail therein, but give it the precedency of all other duties. That now he came to his answer, wherein he would conceal nothing, being so taught and obliged to do by his example. He wish him then to know that the reason of his alienation from King Edward's children, was their father's discountenancing of him upon all occasions, without any cause given; whilst they two having married two sisters, he might have expected to have been more friendly treated: he therefore thought himself free from all bands of humanity, since the King used none to him, having not only excluded him from all Offices and Honours, but treated him after a manner not worthy of his quality. The first thing then that after his death came into his thoughts was the miserable condition of the Kingdom, under the government of a woman and of a child; not so much in respect of the ones sex and the others age, as that her brother the Earl Rivers, and the marquis Dorset her son were to exclude from all authority and preeminence, not only the Dukes and great men of the Kingdom, but even the brother to the deceased King. He thought it therefore requisite for him, as well for the public, as his own private good, to join with the Duke of Gloucester; whom he then thought as free from all dissembling, injury, and cruelty, as he now knew him to be most dissembling, injurious, and cruel man that ever was borne. Upon this false opinion, at the first Council held in London he was by his means created Protector of the King and Kingdom: and after having by fraudulent pretences gotten the Duke of York out of the Sanctuary, he had the boldness (not without sprinkling some threats) to demand the Crown of him and the other Lords that were then in Council, till such time as the King being full four and twenty years old should be of age to govern it: but that meeting with some difficulties, (the like thing not having been formerly heard of, and that it was unlikely any man would be found so moderate, as to lay down the Crown, become a Subject, and submit himself to Another's government, after He had governed of Himself so long) he presented them with certain Writings authenticated by Doctors, Notaries and Witnesses, by which it appeared Edward's sons were Bastards: which was then believed to be as True, as it is Now known to be notoriously False; the false witnesses being by recompenses and promises, drawn to so great a treachery. This writing being read, he said unto the Counsellors: My Lords! I am assured that being Wise and Faithful, you will not suffer my Nephew to receive any injury: but I am likewise confident that being Just, you will see no wrong done to Me. That which you have heard is either true, or false; if you believe it not, clear yourselves in the point; and if you believe it, which of you will deny Me to be the undoubted Heir to Richard Plantagenet Duke of York, declared by the Authority of Parliament to be heir unto the Crown? since the Duke of Clarence's Son is by his Father's Delinquency made incapable thereof; and his Father more than He, being reputed a Bastard, and upon good presumptions held for such a one in the house of York. Not any one answering him, much less opposing him, he was (chiefly by the assistance of Him, the Duke of Buckingham) of Protector, made King; he having first received his plighted faith there, which afterwards was confirmed to him by giving of him his hand in Baynards-castle, that he would provide for the Lives of the two Princes in so good a manner, that He and All the world should be therewith satisfied. Now where is that Prince that after such a Service, would not of his own free will have sought out some means how to have gratified him, unless it were Richard, who being demanded a thing which was not His, and which was not in Justice to be denied, denied it him out of mere ingratitude? The things he required of him were; the Office of High-Constable of England, which having been enjoyed by his Forefathers, it was a shame for Him to go without it; and the Lands belonging to the Earl of Hereford, which had been wrongfully detained from him by his brother, King Edward: the which he did not suddenly deny unto him, but held him a while in Hope; till being constantly solicited therein, he absolutely denied him, objecting that such a demand pretended to set on foot again the pretences of the house of Lancaster, since Henry the fourth, who was heir thereunto, having wrongfully usurped the Crown, and by his usurpation united them to the same, they were not again to be taken from the Crown, unless that together with them pretence were had unto the Kingdom: the which it should seem was by him intended: since that, being fall'n by the death of Henry the sixth upon him, (Buckingham) according to the Common-law (in what concerns private men, but not the State) he did again revive the tacit pretence thereunto. Of the which, in good faith, He never had the least thought. Whereupon suppressing within himself the base injustice of so ungrateful a man, he had much a do to keep himself within the bounds of Patience; till he heard of the Death of the two dispossessed and innocent Princes: of the which he took God to witness He was so innocent, as it never entered into his imagination; and that when he heard of it, he was so heartily grieved, as it was impossible for him any more to look upon the King, abhorring his sight, and being resolved never to return to Court, till he had wrought Public Revenge: but that finding it hard to get from him, (for Tyrants have no more faithful nor vigilant guardians than their own Suspicions) he at last so far prevailed, as dissembling the True cause, and finding excuses to make his journey seem necessary, he had got leave, Richard believing that he went away very well satisfied, whilst in truth he was much discontented. That, wherewith he entertained his thoughts in this voyage, was to find out a means how to depose Richard; but a Successor being to be found out, he could not light upon any one more lawful than Himself: for having made a mental scrutiny, and finding that his Grandfather Edmund Duke of Somerset was Twice removed from john Duke of Lancaster, the Founder of that house; and Henry the sixth, Thrice; it followed that His mother, daughter to Edmund, being removed as Henry the sixth, He (her heir) should, after Henry the sixth, be the undoubted Successor; the line of Somerset descending from the said john Duke of Lancaster in like sort, the other having only precedency by Birthright in Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth: so as feeding himself with this imagination, assisted by Vanity and Ambition, he though he might have grounded Richard's ruin upon the foundation of his Own pretence not finding any opposition therein. But meeting with the Countess of Richmond (wife to the now Lord Stanley) between Worcester and Bridgnorth, his ill-grounded Fabric was soon overthrown. For calling to mind that she was the only daughter and Heir to john Duke of Somerset, elder brother to his Grandfather Edmund, it followed that Her son the Earl of Richmond, was the true heir and pretender, which he had formerly thought Himself to be. And that believing himself to be so, he had proceeded even to the point of weighing the Dangers, and amusing himself about what means he were best to make use of: whether of his natural Right, or of Election: and though the Laws both of the Kingdom and of Nature appeared sufficient to him, for what concerned his Natural Right; yet the Succession having been Interrupted, and the house of York in possession, he had thought it requisite for him to have the Votes of the Lords and Commons, for that the general lawful Election would corroborate his particular Right, and exclude the Tyrant. Touching Dangers; he found they would be great in a litigious Kingdom, in which let the title be never so apparent, some will not be wanting who will oppose it; particularly upon the present occasion; the house of York reigning, Edward's daughters being well Beloved, and by reason of their Uncle's evil entreatment, Pitied by all men: so as though they might have a great desire to free themselves of a perverse King, yet was it not such as to make them favour Another to their prejudice who were held the true Heirs. But the seeing of the Countess having made him aware of the Injustice of his pretences, and that if he should continue Obstinate therein, dangers were likely to increase, if Edward's daughters joining with the Earl of Richmond, He were by their partakers to be set upon on both sides, he had changed his mind. Not that the Countess had spoken to him of it, who had no such Thought, but that he had observed Here a Nearer Propinquity. The discourse she held with him was; To conjure him by the Nearness of his Blood, and by the memory of Humphrey Duke of Buckingham, his Grandfather, and sworn brother to john Duke of Somerset her father, that he would entreat the King to reassume her son the Earl of Richmond into his favour, and suffer him to return to England: and that for her part, she would oblige herself to make him marry which of Edward's daughters the King would please, without Portion or any other thing, save only his re-patriation. The which he promised to do; whereupon they parted: she with New Hopes, and he with New Thoughts. For, calling to mind the Earls claim, with the same apprehensions which were by Him (the Bishop) propounded the night before; he fell upon a resolution to assist him with all Might and Means, as true Heir of the house of Lancaster, in the defence whereof his Father and Grandfather had been slain; upon this condition notwithstanding, that he should marry Elizabeth eldest daughter to King Edward: for that this marriage joining together the two houses of Lancaster and York, in the two persons who could only pretend unto the Crown, the Kingdom would be established, and all occasion of War or Civil Dissension would be taken away for the time to come. The which marriage, if the Mother and the Son of the House of Lancaster would accept of, on the one side; and the Mother and Daughter of the House of York on the other; none would be to be feared but the Boar that wounded all men with his Tusks, and who would doubtlessly be soon destroyed; since all men were to join in a work, from whence were to issue both Public and Private ease and quiet. It cannot be conceived how overjoyed the Bishop was to hear this his Conclusion, being the same he desired: so as praising the Duke's Goodness and Wisdom, and now longing to see the business on foot, he asked him with which of the two he intended to treat first? who answered, with the Countess of Richmond; for that it was necessary first to know the Earl her Son's mind. Which the Bishop approving of, he offered to bring unto him Reynold Bray, a Houshold-servant to the Countess, a wise discreet man, and who being versed in the negotiation of great businesses, would be fittest to be employed in this. The which the Duke approving of, he wrote unto him, and sent the Letter by an Express, wherein he desired him to come to Brecknock, for a business which concerned the Countess his Mistress. He forthwith obeyed who 'twas sent for him. The instructions he received were, that considering the Kingdom could not be brought to quiet but by advancing the Earl of Richmond to the Crown, by means of uniting the two houses of Lancaster and York by marriage; that the Countess of Richmond should treat thereof with Queen Elizabeth, and having obtained Her good will, and Her eldest Daughters, she should send into Britain to treat thereof with her Son: who if He would promise to marry Her after He should have obtained the Crown, they engaged themselves, by joining the Forces of the Factions, to make him King. Bray being dispatched away with this Embassy, the Bishop took leave likewise of the Duke: the Duke was loath to part with him, needing his Advice; but he resolved howsoever to be gone: and whilst the Duke fed him with hopes, under pretence of raising men who might secure him in his journey, he stole away disguised; and getting luckily to Ely, he provided himself of moneys and past over into Flanders: where being Absent, but in a safe place, he furthered the business more than he could have done, had he, not without danger, stayed in England. Yet did his departure prove unfortunate to the Duke: for, wanting His advice, and some too early notice being gotten of the Design, it proved his final ruin. Bray acquainted his Lady with the business, who approved of it, encouraged thereunto by the great quality and condition they were of who were the promoters of it: but the Queen being in Sanctuary, and it not befitting the Countess to go to her in person, she sent to her her Physician Lewis, who being a learned man, by birth a Welshman, and one of the greatest esteem of as many as were of his profession, was fitter to be employed in this business than any one of another condition; for the Queen stood in need of such men, being continually troubled with new indispositions of health, caused either for want of bodily exercise, or by the superaboundant exercise of her mind; so as willing him to visit her as of Himself, she wished him to acquaint her with the business; not as it was Digested and Concluded, but as a conceit of his Own, not hard to be effected if She would approve of it. The Physician consented; and going to London upon some Other pretence, he went to visit her, being well known unto her: and having occasion to speak of her Afflictions, he desired leave to acquaint her with a Thought which since it proceeded from a good Heart, he hoped that though it might appear to Her to be Vain, and not Feasible, yet she would not be the worse for knowing it. The Queen permitting him to say his pleasure, he told her; That since the Death of King Edward of glorious memory, and of the two innocent Children her Sons, and since the Usurpation made of the Kingdom by Richard, the most detestable of as many Tyrants as ever had been heard of, he could never be at quiet within himself till he had found out a means whereby to put the Kingdom in Quiet, the just Heirs in their Possession, and to bring the unjust Usurper to ruin. But that having considered many, he bethought himself, that so much blood having been spent between the two Houses of Lancaster and York, the best way was to unite them both by Marriage; giving the Lady Elizabeth heir to the house of York, for wife to the Earl of Richmond heir to the house of Lancaster. A match wherewith all the Kingdom was to be satisfied, for that Peace being thereby likely to ensue, the two Houses were to be accorded, to the Destruction of the Tyrant, and the restoring of Herself, Family, and Children, to their former greatness. If things naturally good of themselves are apt to content such as are endued with Reason, and especially those who are thereby to receive Ease and Comfort, great reason had the Queen to be herewithal pleased; who being laden with so many miseries, saw in this her desperate condition, an evident means of restoring herself and Family. She thanked God, acknowledging that if there remained any hopes of consolation to her, there was none in humane appearance, more likely than this. After she had thankfully acknowledged her Obligation to the Physician for his so wise and discreet advice, she prayed him that since he had been the first inventor, he would likewise put it in execution: that she knew of what esteem he was with the Countess of Richmond; to whom she bade him say in Her behalf, That if the Earl her Son would bind himself by Oath to marry Elizabeth her Eldest Daughter; and in case she should Die, her Second daughter; she promised to assist him, by all friends and adherents, in getting the Crown. The Physician having told the Countess thus much, she presently went to work. Reynald Bray dealt with such as he knew faithful, and fit for a business of such importance; whilst the Queen negotiated with all those who hated the King, and wished for nothing more than an opportunity of doing her service. Those employed by the Countess, besides Bray and the Physician, were Sir Giles Aubeny, Sir john Cheinie, Sir Richard Gilford, Thomas Ramney, and Hugh Conway. The Physician had preferred one Christopher Urswick to be her Chaplain; a wise man, and who having served on the behalf of Henry the sixth as long as he lived, might safely be relied upon, as well for his Fidelity as for his Wisdom. She had purposed to have sent him into Brittanny to her son; but being the Duke of Buckingham was the promoter of the business, she thought it was fitter to employ some one of a better quality: she therefore sent unto him Hugh Conway, who with a good sum of Money took his way by Plymouth through Cornwall; whilst Sir Richard Gilford sent Thomas Ramney for the same end through Kent; to the effect that if the one should miscarry, the other might do the work: but Fortune was so favourable to them, as they differed not many hours in their meeting in Britanny. Their Embassy was: That he was sent for as King, Named thereunto by the Great ones, and desired by All: The marriage agreed upon by the Queen and the Duke of Buckingham: That he should come away with all possible haste, and land in Wales; where he should find Aid and Friends sufficient to render himself powerful in an Instant; both factions being for him. The Earl, fashioned out by nature to be King, communicated the business to the Duke of Britanny (who after King Edward's death had given him his liberty) desiring his assistance in so necessary an expedition: he being called in by a freeborn people, professed enemies to the Tyrant, whose cruelty was so detestable to all the world; promising him that if God should so far favour his cause, (as he well hoped he would) he would be answerable unto him with such Services as befitted an obligation never to be forgotten. Richard had by means of his Ambassador Thomas Hutton, yea by the proffer of certain sums of Money, dealt with the Duke not long before, to keep him in safe custody: but the Duke detesting Richard's wickedness, did not only do nothing therein, but made good all his promises of Favour to the Earl upon this occasion. So as confident of good success, he sent Conway and Ramney back to his mother, with answer that he did accept of the invitation; that as soon as he should have provided things necessary, he would come for England; that in the mean time order might be taken for the affairs there, to the end that he might find the less impediments. Upon the hearing of this, they who sided with him took courage, and began to prepare for the business. They sent into requisite places people fit to make them good; and disposed of other Commanders in other places, that they might be ready upon occasion: Others underhand solicited the people, to the end they might be ready to rise when time should serve. The Bishop of Ely wrote from Flanders to such as he knew hated Richard, promoting the business by the sole authority of his Letters. So as though amongst as many as were therein employed, there was not found one Unfaithful person, yet the affair being to pass through so many mouths, and to come to so many Ears, it was impossible but that some Whispering or confused Notion thereof should reach Richard's ears; who judged things the Greater by his not knowing them: for ignorance cannot Obviate, since it doth not foresee. He was not ignorant of his being generally hated; and was not sure that no man out of his own inclination would discover any thing to Him; so as all his intelligence must proceed from his own Diligence and quick Foresight. So as placing Spies everywhere, he took Arms: and though he knew not which way to bend his course, yet was he in readiness to march whether necessity should compel him. But such commotions never wanting a prime Ringleader, he thought the Duke of Buckingham must nee●…s be the Primum mobile of this: he therefore was of opinion, that the chiefest provisions were to be made against Him; but resolved first, to try him with offers, which if they should not take effect, then to make him an Example to all such as had or should hereafter conspire against him. He sent an express messenger to him with Letters full of Courtesy, wherein he desired him to come unto him▪ giving order to the Gentleman that carried them, to promise him he should have what ever he could demand. But these proffers, the Larger they were, the more Suspicious were they, and out of time: the Duke would not hear on That ear; he knew Richard's nature, and that he had proceeded on like manner with all those he desired to abuse. He therefore desired to be excused, alleging the indisposition of his Stomach, which having taken his Appetite quite away, did likewise rob him of his wont Repose. Richard not herewithal satisfied, wrote to him in terms clean contrary to the former: he commanded him in a reproachful manner, that all delays and excuses laid side, he would come to him. The which the Duke not being able to digest, and being resolved upon the rebellion, he forgot all manner of Artifice, and in downright term told the Gentleman that brought the Letter, he would not come: that he esteemed him as an Enemy, and that he had never been befriended by him. Thus all dissimulation laid aside, they prepared for War; and advertised their friends, to the end they might raise the People, and make them take Arms. The noise hereof made the marquis Dorset son to the Queen Dowager, quit the Sanctuary where together with his Mother he was, and go to Yorkshire to raise forces. In Devonshire and Cornwall Sir Edward Courtney, and his brother Peter, Bishop of Exeter, did the same: and Sir Richard Gilford, assisted by many other Gentlemen, began the war in Kent. Richard was not taken at unawares, having formerly provided for himself; but this Bore not making any account of these little Beagles (for such he reputed Gilford, Courtney, and Dorset) he did not disunite his forces, that so he might lead them All against the Duke, who was the chief Mastiff of this Bore-baiting, whom if he should beat, he assured himself, he should easily tear the other in pieces. Thus resolved, he took his way toward Salisbury, whilst the Duke (who had gotten together an Army of Welshmen, more by Threats and Haughty Demeanour, then by money or fair entertainment) marched towards Gloucester, that he might pass the Severne there, and so join himself with the two Courtneys, and the rest of their adherents: which could he have done, Richard had been undone. But whilst he marched along with this design, the Severne, through the extraordinary Rain, had so overflowed its banks, as that it became not only impassable, but men had therewithal been surprised by night in their beds, children carried away in their Cradles, and the tops of Hills were covered with waters, so as flocks of sheep were not there safe. This deluge of rain continued for the space of Ten days, leaving an unlucky name behind, of the great waters of the Duke of Buckingham. He then finding the passage shut up on all sides was enforced to stay a while; whilst his Soldiers almost drowned with Raine, famished for want of Victuals, and having no Pay, took a resolution to disband of themselves: the Duke had no authority to keep them together, his Entreaties were not heard, his Persuasions were of no efficacy, his promises vain and unprofitable; insomuch as he was left almost all Alone, not knowing what way to take, or where to save himself. He dismissed all his attendance and resolved to go near Shrewsbury to the house of one Humphrey Banister, a servant of his, who having been beloved by him and well rewarded, he thought he might expect from him such service as by obligation and gratitude he was bound unto; till such time as he might either gather new forces, or pass over into Britanny to the Earl of Richmond. But he failed in his design; for in this so great necessity, Banister who ought him all the Obligation that one man may owe another, was faulty to him. The disbanding of his Army being known, and it not known whether he were Alive or Dead, such fear was thereby apprehended by those of Kent, Devonshire and Cornwall, as laying down their Arms, they thought only how to save themselves, some into Sanctuaries, some beyond the Seas. The Bishop of Exeter, his brother Sir Edward Courtney, who was by Henry the 7th afterwards made Earl of Devonshire, Thomas Grace Marquis of Dorset, the L. Wells, Sir john Bourchier, Sir Edward Woodvile a gallant Soldier, and brother to the Queen Dowager, Sir Robert Willougby, Sir Giles d'Aubeny, Thomas Arundel, john Cheyny, with two of his brothers, and Richard Edgcombe, (all of them for the most part Knights) fled into Britanny; and were followed by Captain john Hollow-well and Captain Edward Poynings. Richard hearing of the welshmen's retreat, the Duke's flight (it not being known whether, and the rest of the Conspirators design to save themselves) he sent to all the ports to the end they might not be suffered either to come in or go out at any of them; making Proclamation, that whosoever should discover or deliver up into his Hands the Duke of Buckingham, if he were under the condition of Villeinage he should be enfranchised; and if otherwise, together with a general pardon he should have a Thousand pounds ready money given him. Together with this he made strong preparations at Sea, being assured by Thomas Hutton, who had been Ambassador in Britanny, that, without all doubt the Earl of Richmond was to be assisted by the Duke thereof both with men and money: he sent many Ships well furnished with men and Guns to the Coast of Britanny, with intention either to fight with him, or hinder his landing on the English shore. In other parts he left no place unprovided for; people were not suffered to land without diligent search, that so some news might be had of the Duke of Buckingham. Banister (into whose hands the Duke had trusted his safety) hearing of the Proclamations, and the Rewards therein promised (were it either for Fear or Avarice) discovered where he was to the Sheriff of Shropshire: who going to Banisters house, found the Duke in a Day-labourers apparel digging in a Garden; in which habit he sent him well guarded to Shrewsbery, where Richard then was. He denied not the Conspiracy, he hoped by his free confession to have gotten admittance into ●…he Kings Presence; some think with an intention to beg his Pardon; others, to kill the King with a Dagger which he wore underneath his clothes. But Richard not suffering him to be brought unto him, he was beheaded on All-soules▪ day without any other manner of Process, in the Market place. To Banister (the chiefest of all ungrateful Traitors) nothing that was promised was made good: Richard who was unjust in all things else was just in This; denying him the reward of his Disloyalty: which amongst his many Fayling worthy of Blame, was the only one worthy of Commendation. Punished thus slightly by man, he received much more grievous punishments from God: his Eldest son died mad; his second of Convulsion fits; his Third son was Drowned in a Standing pool; and his Daughter a very Beautiful young Woman was crusted over with Leprosy: he himself in his later Years was convict of Manslaughter, and condemned to be Hanged, but was saved by his Book. The Duke was in his death accompanied by many others; amongst which, by Sir George Browne, Sir Roger Clifford, and Sir Thomas Saintlieger, who was the last husband to the Duchess of Exeter the King's sister. The Earl of Richmond assisted by the Duke of Britanny, had got together five Thousand Britons, and forty Ships furnished for all purposes, wherein he embarked himself and made for England. But the next night he met with a terrible Tempest which dispersed all his Vessels, carrying them into several places, insomuch as there remained only One with him, with the which he found himself near the Haven of Pool in Dorsetshire: where he discovered the shore all over pestered with men, whereat he was much afraid; for they were placed there to hinder his landing, in like manner as others were sent for the same purpose to other places. He cast Anchor, expecting the arrival of his Other Ships: he commanded that none should go on shore without His leave, and sent forth a boat to see who those men were: when the boat was come within Hearing, those on shore said they were sent to conduct them to the Duke of Buckingham, that was not far from thence with a great Army, expecting the Earl of Richmond so to give chase to Richard who had but small forces with him, being abandoned almost by All men. But the Earl finding out the cozenage (for had it been so, they wanted not Boats to have sent some known man aboard him) no news being heard of the rest of his Fleet, and the wind being reasonable fair for him to re turn, he hoist Sail, and with a fore-wind landed in Normandy. Charles the Eight Reigned then in France, his Father Lewis being not long before dead: the Earl was desirous to return by Land to Britanny, and being to go through France he durst not adventure without a safe conduct: he therefore dispatched away a Gentleman to the King for one: he was graciously heard by the King; who commiserated the Earl's misfortunes, and together with a safe conduct, sent him a good sum of money; by means whereof he passed safely into Britanny, whether likewise he sent his Ships. But understanding there what ill success his affairs had in England, how the Duke of Buckingham was dead, and that the Marquis of Dorset with the rest of his companions (who having many days expected some news of him in that Court, grew now to despair thereof, believing some mischief had befallen him, and therefore had withdrawn themselves to Vennes) was come, he was much grieved and took this frown of Fortune at his first beginning for an ill Omen: yet was he comforted at the arrival of his Friends, promising some good to himself through their safeties. When he was come to Renes, he sent for them and welcomed them with terms of Courtesy and Thankfulness. The condition of affairs being well weighed, they resolved to effect what formerly had been but spoken of: to wit, The war against Richard, and his deposing: and the making of Richmond King; upon Condition that he should promise to Marry the Lady Elizabeth Daughter to Edward the Fourth. These Articles were agreed upon and sworn unto by all parties on Christmas day in the Cathedral Church of that City; where likewise the Marquis, with all the rest did Homage unto him, as to their actual King, swearing to serve him Faithfully, and to employ their Lives and Estates in endeavouring Richard's destruction. The Earl failed not to acquaint the Duke with all these proceedings; and to make known unto him the cause why he undertook this business, and what he stood in need of to effect it: the cause was; his being sent for, Called in, and Expected; Richard's government being grown intolerable: that he stood in Need of was Another Fleet, and supplies of money; he having in setting forth the Former▪ spent all that his Mother had sent him, and what he had gathered amongst his Friends: he therefore desired the Duke to lend him some moneys promising (to boot with the never to be forgotten Obligation) suddenly to repay him, when God should have given a blessing to his just endeavours. The Duke was not backward either in Promises or Performance: so as the Earl had conveniency of furnishing himself with Men and ships; ●…hilst Richard did what he could in England to hinder his design: though to no purpose, for if God keep not the City, the Watchman watcheth but in vain. He in sundry places, put many who were guilty or suspected to death: and having returned to London, He called a Parliament wherein the Earl of Richmond and all that for his cause had forsaken the Land were declared enemies to the King and Kingdom, and had their goods confiscated. They being many and the richest men of the Kingdom their confiscations would have been able to have discharged the War against them, had not Richard been formerly too liberal in his Donatives, thereby endeavouring to reconcile men's minds unto him, and to cancel the uncancellable memory of his cruelty to his Nephews: so as though the Sums were great which hereby accrued, yet were they not sufficient; nor did they free him from laying insufferable Taxes upon his people. 'Twas a wonder the Lord Stanley was not in the number of the Proscribed, his Wife Mother to the Earl of Richmond being chief of the Conspiracy: but he freed himself from any the least sign of guilt; and Richard seemed not to valve his Wife, lest if He should imbrue his Hands in the blood of a Lady of so great quality, He might yet more incite the People's hatred. He was contented she should be committed to the custody of her Husband, with order that she should be kept in some private place of her House, and that none should be suffered to come to her, who might convey Letters to her Son, or Messages to any Other. He also caused William Collingborne, who had been High Sheriff of Wiltshire and Dorsetshire, to be executed, for having written by way of jeer That a Cot, a Rat, and Lovel the Dog, did Govern England under a Hog: alluding by Cat, to Catesby; by Rat, to Ratcliff, and by the Dog to the Lord Lovel, who gave the Dog for his Arms, as did Richard the Boar for His: and these three were His chiefest Favourites: Some were of opinion, He was put to death for having had Intelligence with the Earl of Richmond, and with Marquis Dorset; for he was convict to have proffered Money to a certain man, to carry Letters into Britanny; wherein He persuaded them to come Instantly, and Land at Poole in Dorsetshire, whilst He assisted by others would raise the People. To keep himself from troubles out of Foreign parts, and that He might the bette●… mind his Home-broyles, Richard thought necessary to hold good intelligence with the King of Scotland, who often troubling Him with Inroads, diverted him from his Home-affaires wherein consisted the preservation of his Life and Kingdom. This business was treated by Commissioners, who agreed upon a Truce for Three years, each of them being to keep what they were possessed of; except the Castle of Dunbarre which was given to King Edward by the Duke of Albany, the last time that He fled from Scotland: which the Scots would have restored. And that he might have a double tie upon them, he concluded a Marriage between the Duke of Rothsay Prince and He●…e of Scotland, and his Niece Anne of Poole Daughter to john Duke of Suffolk, and his Own Sister Anne, a Lady so affectionately beloved by him, as his Only Son the Prince of Wales being dead, he made Her Son john Earl of Lincoln be proclaimed heir to the Crown, disinheriting, of mere hatred; his brother's Daughters, and for that having declared them to be Bastards, his Own title was preserved by the continua●…ce of their such repute. All these precautions did no●… notwithstanding free his perturbed mind from those furies which leaving their natural habitation, had brought Hell into his Conscience; so as though Buckingham were dead, and so many others Dead and Banished, yet could not he have any Security: his 〈◊〉 committed, his deserved Hatred, and the Earl of Richmond, would not suffer him to enjoy any one hours' rest. And albeit in his contriving how to usurp the Crown; he made no account of Him, whilst his brother liv●…d, his mind being then fixed upon Henry that had been King, and was then in Being, yet Times and Persons being changed▪ He likewise changed Opinion: the one being Dead, the other Alive and at Liberty, and who was the only man that with Right and Justice could do that to Him which he unjustly and against all Right had cruelly done to others. He therefore endeavoured again to have the Earl in his possession, or at least that the Duke of Britanny by bereaving him of his Liberty (as he had done in his brother King Edward's time) would secure him from the Mischief that might ensue by his coming into England: and not believing he was likely to obtain a favour of this nature by way of Friendship, much less for any Rights sake, he grounded his demands upon the basis of Profit and Interest; the only means to obtain one's desire from such as have no feeling of Justice. He loaded his Ambassadors with moneys and Presents to present unto the Duke: together with Them he offered him Richmondshire, and all the Revenues of the Earl, as likewise all that belonged in England, to all those that were fled over to him into Britanny: the which being very much, would have sufficed to have corrupted any other save Duke Francis the second one of the Noblest and most virtuous Princes that lived in those times, as he was held by all men. This is Arge●…es his relation, who affirms he hath found among the Records of Britanny the grant of this County, together with the Names of the Churches, Monasteries, and Priories therein: but if the Duke should die without heirs of his body, the Reversion should fall▪ to the King. The Ambassadors or Deputies (as He 〈◊〉 them) could not have access unto the Duke, being come to a season that He was beside Himself an infirmity He was often subject unto)▪ whereupon they made their addresses to Peter Landais, who had power to dispose of the Prince and State as He pleased. The large sums of English money made him listen to what they propounded: his base mind (not valuing Honour) made him accept of the Offer, but not in such manner as it was propounded. For He being the man that was to deliver up the Earl (the Duke not being in condition either to yield him, or to detain Him) He would have Richmondshire to himself; whereupon many Messengers were sundry times dispatched for England, which was the Earl's safety: for these practices being discovered in England, and the Bishop of Ely being adve●…tised in 〈◊〉, He speedily gave the Earl notice thereof advising him immediately to depart from thence, for that He was bought and sold between Richard and those who were of chief authority in that State; so as if He did not suddenly save himself▪ He would fall into his enemy's hands. The Earl received this advertisement when▪ He was at Vennes, from whence he sent 〈◊〉 France 〈◊〉 a safe-conduct, which was by the King thereof without delay sent him: and it being impossible to save Himself and all his Partakers, at the same time, he feigned to send the Lords that were with him to visit the Duke at Rennes; giving order to the Earl of Pembroke, who conducted them, that when they should be upon the Confines, He should immediately quit the Country; as he did: whilst He himself, feigning two days after to visit a friend of his not far from Vannes, got on horseback, waited on only by Five servants; and when He was entered the Wood, He put on one of His servants Coats and got by Byways out of the State, and arrived at Anjou whether the Earl of Pembroke with the rest were, but long before, come. His escape was the easier in that it was not suspected; having left above three Hundred English, all of His Retinue behind him in Vennes; otherwise it would have gone ill with Him: For Peter had already raised people, and appointed Commanders over them, who were within three days to have been at Vennes to have detained Him; hearing (by what means I cannot tell) of his Departure, he dispatched so speedily after Him, as those who had the Commission to stay Him, got to the uttermost bounds of Britanny not above an Hour after He was gone out of them. The Duke, being this time returned to His perfect sense, was displeased hereat, thinking this might redound to his Dishonour: He chid Landais; and commanded that all the English that were left in Vennes should be suffered to depart, making them to be defrayed not only whilst they were in His State, but till they came to their Master; to whom He likewise sent the Money He had promised, by Edward Woodvile and Edward Poinings two English Gentlemen: for the which the Earl returned Him many Thanks; saying, He should not be at quiet till Fortune had befriended Him with some means whereby in some sort to requite His infinite Obligation to the Duke▪ by whose favour only He lived. King Charles was then at Langres; whither the Earl went to Him and acquainted Him with the reason of His flight from Britanny, and how the Nobility and People of England had sent for Him to free them from Richard's tyranny. He entreated his assistance; which was not hard to obtain from so generous a Prince as He was, against one who for his notorious wickedness was abhorred by all men. The King bade him be of good comfort, promised to assist him, and brought him on his way to Montargis, treating the Lords that were with him with hospitality becoming a King; whilst thus he was ordering his affairs, Fortune, the better to encourage him, sent unto him a man, not only forgotten but who was little better than thought dead; john Vere, Earl of Oxford, who after the Battle at Barnet, had gotten into Scotland, from thence to France, and from thence had made himself Master of Saint Michales Mount in Co●…wall: where being besieged, and yielding up the place, King Edward had sent him prisoner. This Nobleman had so far prevailed with Sir james Blunt Captain of that Fort, and Sir john Fortescue Porrer of Calais, that he did not only obtain his liberty, but got them to forsake their commands, and go along with him to put themselves under the conduct of the Earl of Richmond. But Blunt having left his Wife and all his goods in Hams, he fortified it completely, and added to the usual garrison an extraordinary number of Soldiers, to the end that if they should be besieged they might defend themselves till Fortune had turned her back upon Richard. The Earl took this unexpected Liberty of the Earl of Oxford as a good augury: for being of Noble Blood, of esteemed valour, of praiseworthy constancy, (having been always a cider with the House of Lancaster) one in whom virtues disputed for precedency, in whom wisdom and valour were rivals; he thought God had given him his Liberty at this so necessary time, that he might assist him. The King being returned to Paris, the Earl's retinue increased; all that were fled from England, as well as all the English that were in those parts, either as Scholars in the Universities, or returning from their Travels, flocked unto him: amongst which one Richard Fox a Secular Priest, a man of very good parts, who was shortly after advanced to great places and dignities. Richard this mean while was not wanting to Himself; his spirits were bend upon his Own Preservation, and the preservation of the Crown which he unworthily wore: and though he saw both Heaven and Earth conspired against him, yet he thought by his own Will nesse to make his party good in despite of them both. But when he understood the Earl was fled out of Britanny, he was much amazed; his safety consisted in his hopes of having Him in his power, which now failing him he began to fear: his enemy's forces consisted now of both the factions; for by the Match with the Princess Elizabeth, he had united the faction of York to his own of Lancaster; so as the claim of York falling upon him by his Marrying the right Heir, he was sure to meet with great Opposition: His only remedy was to break the Match; but barely to break it was not enough: he must do more, and by forecasting the worst, do what was best for Him. He thought how to strengthen himself by the same pretences, notwithstanding his being therein opposed, by the Laws, Blood and Enmity; he would marry his Niece: Incest would serve but as a Laurel to crown all other his abominations: He could easily without any scruple rid himself of his present Wife: His conscience was so stecled over as it could not suffer compunction: As for the opinion of the World, who regards not Honour, values not shame: His subject's hatred was not to be respected; so long as with a Rod of Iron he could keep them in obedience. That which he pitched upon was, Deceit, Slaughter, and Incest: for Deceit; with Allurements and fair Promises to sweeten the Queen Mother's distastes; and thereby to make way for the other two; his Wife's Death, and his Marriage with his Niece. He chose people fit for this office. They excused what was passed; they made her believe the King was much troubled for his much beloved Nieces: that he was sorry they should make themselves voluntary prisoners, that they mistrusted the naturrall inclination and love of an Uncle, who, as if he were their Father thought of nothing but their Good: That his chiefest desire was to treat them according to their Birth and his Affection: to have them in Court; to find out good Husbands for them, and see them well bestowed: and that if it should be his fortune to lose his Wife (whose indispositions were such as there was no great hope of her Life) his resolution was to make the Princess Elizabeth his Queen: that the Nearness of Blood would prove no impediment; Laws were not without some Exceptions, and were to be dispensed withal, when the Necessity of the State, the Quiet of the Kingdom, and the People's safety did require it: They forgot not the Marquis Dorset promising him Mountains of Gold if he would return to England: they showed how the way he was in was dangerous; that he should rather hope upon a fortune already made, then to be made; that old ways were plain, and sure; New ones, slippery and Precipitious. These men with these and the like conceptions knew so advantageously to behave themselves, that the Queen at the very first Onset gave them Hearing, and began to Melt; and at the second, gave consent to All that the King desired: forgetting her son's deaths, her Husband's Infamy, who was divulged to be a Bastard; her own shame, her marriage being in the Pulpit said to be Adulterous, she a Concubine, and her Daughters illegitimate; and (which most imported) the Promise she had made to the Countess of Richmond concerning the Marriage of her eldest daughter sealed with an Oath: All these things were to her as if they never had been: Ambition so far prevailed with her, as to make her faulty to her own Honour, to the safety of her Daughters, to the Generosity of her past actions, and to her conscience; not regarding Oaths when put in balance with the Persuasions of him, who had always done her mischief. Being thus abused she dispatched away a Messenger to her Son Dorset, who was in France, commanding him that he should leave the Earl and come for England; telling him that all past injuries were forgotten, and forgiven, and were to be repair●…d with Honours and Preferments; for that the King desired nothing more than how to give him satisfaction. Richard having obtained the First of his three designs (having reconciled his Sister in Law, and his Nieces being come to the Court, where they were by him with great Solemnity received) the other Two remained: the Second would be imperfect without the Third; and the Third was impossible without the Second: He could not marry his Niece, except his Wife were dead; upon this therefore he wholly bent his thoughts, He considered that by putting her to a Violent death he might alienate his people's hearts, which he somewhat gained upon by his hypocritical proceedings, which made them believe he was changed in life and disposition: so as a Relapse would prove dangerous to him, and make him not to be believed in what for the future he was to counterfeit. He lighed upon a means never dreamt of any Devil in Hell: that Grief, Melancholy, and Fear, might jointly work that effect in her without Scandal, which Sword nor Poison could not do but with Scandal. He forbore her bed, nor would he Speak with her; not only denying her his Company, but his Sight: He began to bewail his misfortune, in that he had a wife that was Barren, who would bear him no Children; a curse which did so wound his Soul, as it would in short time cost him his Life: he made known this his great sorrow to the Archbishop of York, whom he had newly set at liberty, being sure he would acquaint his wife with it, and hoping it might work the Effect he desired. The Archbishop, who was a wise man, and very well knew Richard's disposition, spoke hereof with some of his most intimate friends, judging the unfortunate Lady's life to be of no long durance. The King shortly after made it to be noised abroad that she was Dead, to the end her death when it should happen, might be the less strange, men's ears being accustomed thereunto; and he made the bruit of her death arrive at her own ears: all this was done, in hope that the violence of Grief would kill her; or if not, that he might with the less Noise make her away, who had been so Often thought Dead. The Queen, who was a Tender Lady, and not able to resist so many machinations, was hereat much dismayed, knowing that Tempests use to follow Thunder, especially in so perverse a Climate as that of her Husbands: she ran much afflicted to him, to know wherein she had so Highly offended him, as that he thought her not only worthy of his Hatred, which was apparently seen, but of the Punishment which being to befall her, the world thought her dead Already? His answer was pleasant in words, but of sad Sense, mingled with Smiles, which gave her more cause of Suspicion then of Comfort. She went back to her own lodgings, where not many days after she departed this life: whether of Grief or Poison, it is not certain; those who judge by likelihood, think the last. This Princess was borne under an unhappy Constellation, as well in respect of herself, as of those who did any ways appertain unto her. She was daughter to Richard Nevil Earl of Warwick and Salisbury, a Peer of greatest Power and Repute that ever England had; her Grandfather was beheaded, her Father and her Uncle were slain in the battle at Barnet; her Nephew, Son to her Sister the Duchess of Clarence was beheaded by Henry the Seventh; and her Niece his Sister, by Henry the Eighth, both her Husbands came to violent ends; the First, Son to Henrys the sixth, slain by this her second Husband; and He by others (as we shall shortly see). She was in her Life time bereft of the only son she had by him. Lastly, as for her own death what ever it was, it could not but be happy for Her, she being thereby freed from the hands of so cruel a Monster. Two of Richard's designs being obtained, the Third yet remained, his marriage with his Niece. He began to make love unto her, but it was not love that troubled him (though he would have it so believed) he was troubled with thoughts of another nature: To see so many of the prime Nobility fled into France to the Earl of Richmond, to see himself so nauseous to his People, as they were ready to vomit him out, and that the Conspiracy Discovered, but not Extinct, had made the Conspirators the more wary; these were the businesses which excluded his feigned love; love being fed by Idleness, Delights, and want of other affairs whereon to employ one's thoughts. He was jealous of none more than the Lord Stanley, father in law to the Earl: his brother Sir William Stanley, Gilbert Talbot, and hundreds of others did not so much trouble him as did He alone: insomuch as this Lord Stanley being desirous to return to his Countryhouse, under pretence of some domestical affairs, (but in effect, that he might be ready at the arrival of his son in Law whom he daily expected) he would not suffer himto go, unless he would leave his Eldest son George Stanley in Court, reputing him a sufficient hostage for his Father's loyalty. When he understood of blunt's rebellion, how that the Earl of Oxford had escaped out of prison; and how that Both of 1485. them having betaken themselves to the Earl of Richmond, they had delivered up unto him the Castle of Hams; he gave order to have it besieged by the garrison of Calais; and Richmond sent the Earl of Oxford with a great many Soldiers to raise the siege; who having encamped himself not far from the Besiegers, passed Thomas Brandon with Thirty commanded men into the Town, which so encouraged the Besieged, as that the Enemy being shot at, at the same time, from the Town, from the Castle, and from Oxford's camp, offered a Blank paper, into which they might enter what Conditions they pleased, so as they would surrender up the place. The Earl of Oxford who considered that the possession of Hams was not of any consequence to the getting of the Kingdom, which they were in pursuit of; and that it was succoured only out of a desire to save the Garrison, and james blunt's wife, together with their Goods, willingly surrendered up the place; taking from thence the Men, Munition, Victuals, Cannon, and all that was there of any value, which he brought all safe to Ba●…is. Richard was so puffed up with this appearance of victory, as he believed that to be true, which was falsely informed him: That he Earl of Richmond, weary of the large promises made him by Charles to assist him with Powerful succours, was fain to content himself with very small ones, in which he likewise found himself to be abused. Whereupon thinking his men of war upon the Narrow Seas, and the troops of men he had disposed upon the Seacoasts, to be superfluous, he recalled his ships, and disbanded his men: judging that the Nobility which inhabited the maritine parts (particularly those of Wales) were sufficient to take order that the enemy should not land unfought withalland unbeaten. The information which was given to Richard, though in effect it was false, yet it bore with it so many likelihoods of Truth, as were sufficient to make him believe that the Earl of Richmond, abandoned by Charles, was not likely to trouble him with any forces he should receive from Him; and this was the occasion: Charles being in his Fourteenth year of age under the government of his Sister Anne, wife to Peter of Bourbon, Lord of Beau-ieu; and according to the Ordinance of Charles the fifth his predecessor, free from Guardian-ship; the Princes of the Blood did notwithstanding aspire to the Regency, under pretence of the weakness of his Constitution, and of his being ill brought up, he having till then been only brought up in Childish sports, not being taught so much as to Read. The pretenders hereunto were, the Duke of Orleans first Prince of the Blood, and Peter of Bourbon in his wife's right, she being thereunto named by the late Lewis: and great troubles were likely hereupon to have ensued, had not the State, by committing the King's person (according to his father's will) to his sister's custody, determined that the Kingdom should have no Regent, but should be governed by the Counsel of State, composed of Twelve personages, to be chosen for their worth and Quality. So as France being in this condition, the Earl could not obtain what was promised him, since it was not the King Alone that could effect it; and the Twelve, though willing to assist him found many Difficulties therein, but were especially hindered, through fear of a Civil war within themselves. At the same time the marquis Dorset attempted to escape away; his Mother's advertisements, which filled him with high hopes, and the rubs he saw the Earl met withal made him tack about, and side with Richard. He went out of Paris secretly by night, taking his way for Flanders, that from thence he might pass into England: but the Earl being informed thereof, and having gotten leave from the King to stop him wheresoever he should be found, sent into all parts after him, and Humphrey Chenie had the fortune to light upon him, who with Persuasions and fair Promises brought him back: otherwise he might have proved very prejudicial to them, for he knew the very bottom of all their designs. But this chance made the Earl very much apprehend, that through delay he might either Lose or Ruin his friends; he therefore judged it necessary to attempt that with a Few which he could not with Many. He borrowed money of the King, and many others, to whom he left as in pawn Sir john Bourchier and the marquis Dorset, whom he did not assie in, to have him near him. Thus having assembled together certain Soldiers, he went to Rouen, expecting there till the ships came to Harfleur which were to carry him over. Here he understood of the death of King Richard's wife, how he had resolved to marry his niece, who by her mother was promised unto Him; and that Cecilie the Second daughter was married (which was false) to one of so base condition as his pedigree was not known: hereat he was much troubled, as were likewise all the Lords that were with him; since the hopes which they had built unto themselves upon the Yorkish faction were vanished by virtue of the aforesaid marriage. Consultation was held what was to be done; it was judged a rash resolution to undertake so dangerous a business with such a Handful of people: The resolutions which they pitched upon were; not to stir till they should have new advertisements from beyond the Seas; and to entice over to their party Sir Walter Herbert, a Gentleman of a great family, and of a great power in Wales, promising that the Earl should marry His sister; and to send a Gentleman to the Earl of Northumberland, who had married the Other sister; to the end that he might negotiate the business. But nothing ensued hereon; for finding the passage shut up, the messenger returned not doing any thing. But having much about the same time received Letters from Morgan Ridwell, a Lawyer and a Confident of his, with news that Sir Rice ap Thomas and Captain Savage, two men of great retinue in Wales, would declare themselves for him; and that Reynald Bray had in his possession great sums of money to pay the Soldier; so as he should do well to make haste, and land in Wales, since delay might be prejudicial to him: he took shipping on the fifteenth of August, having but a few ships and two thousand Soldiers with him. In seven day's space he landed at Milford-haven in Wales; from whence passing on to Dale, (a place wherein all Winter long troops of Soldiers had been kept to hinder his landing) he went to West-Hereford, where he was entertained with all sort of content by the inhabitants. Here he understood that Sir Rice ap Thomas and Captain Savage had declared themselves for Richard, which if it had been true, the business had been ended. Upon such like occasions diversity of News useth to be spread abroad, good or bad according as people hope or suspect. Those who were with him were much amated at this, till they were comforted with a later advertisement. Arnold Butler a very valiant Commander, and one that in former times had been no great wellwisher to the Earl, gave him to understand, that those of Pembrokeshire were ready to obey jasper Earl of Pembroke, his uncle and their natural Lord: that therefore he might make use of this advantage: the Earl being herewithal encouraged, marched on to Cardigan, his camp increasing every hour, by people which flocked unto him. But here he heard news again that Sir Walter Herbert (he whose sister the Earl had thought to have married) was in Caermarthen, with intention to oppose him; the which did much affright him, for he did think to find him an enemy; so as whilst they betake themselves to their Arms, with an intention to fight with him, the Scouts who were sent before to discover the Country, returned with news that there was no enemy to be seen, the Country being open, free, and void of Opposition. This contentment was augmented by the coming of Richard Griffith, and john Morgan, with a great many fight men: and though Griffith was a confederate of Sir Walter herbert's, and of Rice ap Thomas (of whose inclinations he was doubtful) yet the Earl forbore not to march on, fighting with, and beating as many as opposed him, that he might leave no enemies behind him. But seeing himself reduced to such terms as he was not to hope for safety but by victory, it being impossible for him to Retreat; and that Sir Walter Herbert and Rice ap Thomas drawing near him, to hinder his passage, he could not without more help make any long resistance; he wrote to his Mother, to his Father in Law, and his Father in Law's brother, and to Sir Gilbert Talbot: That being come upon Their Advice into England, it was Their Aids that must sustain him; for he having but a Few people with him, if he were Once defeated, he was defeated for Ever: That the Country he was to pass over, was of a great Length: That reason required he should pass the Severne at Shrewsbury, to come to London: That they should think how to succour him in Time; otherwise their succours would be too Late for Him, and Ruinous for Themselves: That their communication being necessary for his Counsels, they should come Suddenly, least Delay might mar All: That Temporising was the Ruin of Designs: That if Dissimulation had been requisite till Now, it was now no more So, but Harmful: for that thereby those who yet had courage would be disheartened. This dispatch being sent away by a faithful servant, he resolved to fight with whoever should oppose him: it was the only way to work his ends; Regality was not to be had but by Regal valour. He took his way towards Shrewsbury, and in his march met with Rice ap Thomas, who with a considerable number of Welshmen swore Fealty to him, the Earl having two days before promised to make him Precedent of Wales, as soon as he should be King, (which accordingly he did.) Being come to Shrewsbury he met with an answer from his Mother and the Others, according to his desire. From thence he passed on to Newport, where Sir Gilbert Talbot with two thousand men came to meet him; as likewise did Sir William Stanley at Stafford, where he made some stay to refresh his people. Sir William after he had a long time consulted with the Earl, returned to his Troops, which being defrayed by his brother, were not far of. The next day he came to Litchfield, where being come by Night, he lay in the Field; and the next day was by the Townsmen received into the City as their Prince. The Lord Stanley had been there two days before with his Soldiers, and was gone from thence to make way for the Earl, and that he might not be seen in his company: he was cautelous in what he did by reason of his Son who was left Hostage with Richard, and who otherwise would have lost his life. Richard (who at this time was at Nottingham) knew of the Earl's arrival; but with such a relation of his inconsiderable forces, as he made no Account of him. He thought he was come only with those who had fled to him from England, and that his Forces consisted merely of Banished men, who grown desperate, betook themselves to their last refuge: as for others, he persuaded himself there would not be any one that durst declare himself for him: so as the rashness of a desperate man was not worthy his trouble: he thought it would be beneath Him to take Notice of him; and that Sir Walter Herbert and Rice ap Thomas were sufficient of Themselves either to beat him, or to make him ignominiously surrender himself. But afterwards well weighing the Consequences, he was of another mind: his affairs appeared to be in a condition not to be trusted to Other men's directions, by reason of his being so generally Hated; and the wicked means used in his usurping of the Crown. He therefore thought it not safe for him to confide in Others; and having a Scrutiny of such as were most Interressed in the preservation of his Person and Dignity, from out the not many he chose john Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Northumberland, and the Earl of Survey; giving them Commission to gather together the best and most trusty of such as did depend upon them, and come unto him: and he gave order to Robert Brackenbury Lieutenant of the Tower, that he should raise all the force he could, and bring along with him as his companions in Arms Sir Thomas Bourcher and Sir Walter Hungerford; not for that he expected any service from them, but that being jealous of them, he feared lest they might conspire against him. All these his foresights did not satisfy him, when he understood the Earl had past the Severne. He then began to mistrust his affairs, and to complain of those who had promised to defend the passage: Now it was that he saw his business was not to be trusted to any Third party; and growing to distrust all men, he went himself in Person in the head of his Army to give him battle: executing Himself the duty of a Sergeant Major. He came by night to Leicester upon a white Steed, environed by his Guards and great number of Foot, with a staring and threatening Countenance answerable to the speeches he uttered against such as forsaking Him, had denied him to be their King; or who by abandoning him Hereafter, were to do so. The Earl hearing of his approach, encamped himself near to Tamworth, where in the midway he was met by Sir Thomas Bourcher and Sir Walter Hungerford, who fearing Richard, had privately stolen from Brackenbury's forces. The like from Other parts did divers personages of good condition; who it may be would have proved his Enemies, had not their Hatred to Richard moved them to take part with Him. Yet this Concourse of people wherewith he ought to have been comforted, freed him not from the much melancholy caused by the Lord Stanley, who kept far from him, and in a posture (as it appeared) rather to be Doubted of then Hoped in. As he road thus pensively in the Rear of his Troops, he was so transported with sad thoughts, that he was not aware how he was left behind, with not above twenty Horse with him: the Army being passed on, and having encamped itself, whilst he through the Obscurity of the Night had lost the Tract thereof. He wandered up and down a good while, hoping to meet with some of them, or to hear their noise; but neither Finding nor Hearing any thing of them, he got into a little Village, fearing lest he might be known, taken, and carried to the Enemy: and not daring to ask the Inhabitants any questions, he continued in these fears till the Break of Day; whilst his camp was more troubled than He, not dreaming that he had Lost his Way, but fearing some strange Misfortune had befallen him. 'Twas his good luck not to meet with any enemy: but when he was come to his Army, he did not tell them that he had lost his way through Musing or Carelessness, but that he stayed purposely behind to Speak with some he had received advantageous advices. From hence he went to find out the Stanleys', who with their Militia were quartered in Aderston; he understood the falsehood of his suspicion; and how that the Lord Stanley could not openly declare himself for Him, till the very last Upshot, for fear lest his Son might suffer for it: after divers consultations it was resolved to give Battle, if Richard would accept it. At his return he found Sir john Savage, Sir Brian Stamford, and Sir Simon Digby, who having left the King, were come with their forces to serve Him. Both sides were equally inclined to fight; moved thereunto out of their Several fears; Richard, of being abandoned; the Earl, that his followers might grow weary, either by the Incommodities they might suffer, or by their Expenses; since he had no Authority but what they of Free will gave him. But Richard's condition was by much the worse of the two, for still Some or Other fled from him; so as seeking out a fit place to fight in, he encamped himself near a Village called Bosworth, not far from Leicester, where having refreshed his people he prepared to fight. They say that the night preceding he in his sleep had certain strange fearful Apparitions that he believed to be Devils, which troubling him, broke his sleep, leaving him so affrighted, as every one wondered at it: whereupon he who had always wont to appear Cheerful in fight, thought that if now any Sadness should be discovered in him, it would be accounted Cowardice; and that therefore it was necessary for him to tell his Dream. Holinshed lays this to his sting of Conscience, the which as it is credible, so is it incredible that when a man draws near his End, he is by some internal motions admonished thereof. Day being come, Richard drew forth his Troops, putting them into such a figure as for terror sake might make the greatest show. He made the Ranks of the Vanguard very long, which was commanded by the Duke of Norfolk, and his Son the Earl of Surrey: he Himself led on the Second, wherein were the choicest and best armed men; and which was guarded on the Flanks by the Horse, and on the Front by Bowmen. For all his Boasts their whole number was but very Small, not worthy to have decided the controversy for a private Castle, muchless a Kingdom. But it behoved him to hasten; as well for that His Forces were by much greater than the Earls; as likewise, if he should have Tarried expecting More, he might have run hazard of Losing those he had: for Savage, Stamford, and Digby had carried along with them a great many fight men. The Lord Stanley stood as stickler between them, who having taken his stand between the two Armies with three thousand Soldiers, afforded Hopes and Fears to them Both: for being desired by his Son in Law that he would come to take the care of Ordering and Commanding his men, his answer was: Let him do that office Himself; he would come when he should see convenient time: and to Richard (who swore by the passion of Jesus Christ, that if he came not over to him, he would cut off his Son's head before Dinner) he answered: Let him use his pleasure; howsoever I have More Sons. This ambiguity was notwithstanding his Son Stranges' safety; for Richard having commanded that he should be beheaded, he suspended the Order; not so much in that he was Advised thereunto (it being time to Fight, not to play the Executioner) as that he feared lest Stanleys' Cloud which threatened a Tempest might shower down upon Him; as it did, in a season when he could not with danger to the other avoid it. The young Strange did for all this account himself as a Dead man, being assigned over a prisoner to those who kept the Tent Royal: and certainly he had suffered death, had not God saved his Life by the King's Death. The Earl was not troubled at his Father in Law's answer: He ordered his Soldiers. He placed the Bowmen in the Front, under the Conduct of the Earl of Oxford: he gave Sir Gilbert Talbot charge over the Right-wing; and Sir john Savage command over the Left: He kept for Himself and His Uncle the Earl of Pembroke a good proportion of Horse, but few Foot: with intention to join with the Troops which were kept as a Reserve, to come in and succour where need should require. All his Forces exceeded not the number of five thousand, and his Father in Law had not with him above three thousand; Richard having Twice as many men as Both they put together. The One and the Other of them made long Speeches to their Soldiers. Richard had much ado to colour over his Cruelties, which not being to be Denied, he slubbered them over, not naming them; hoping thereby to get Absolution. For what remained he said, That he had governed the Kingdom by means of their Advice and Valour: He had punished such as were Seditious and Rebels according to their Merits; he hoped to do the like upon the same occasion: He held the Crown of Them, 'twas They that ought to make it good unto him: An unknown Welshman contended with him for it, begotten by a Father less known than Himself; whose Forces consisted of Banished Delinquents, and certain Britons and beggarly French, come to plunder their Goods, ravish their Wives, and kill their Children: A better occasion than this could not be met withal, wherein to exercise their Valour, and to grow angry without Sin or Offending God; since thereby they were made ministers of his Justice, and their Own Revengers, for which they should be praised of all Nations: As concerning victory, it was not to be Doubted; since they were to fight against a Handful of two sorts of people so often Overcome, of which these were the very Scum, led on by Necessity, appearance, and Number; a number notwithstanding so Small as would make up the third part of Them: for Himself; he promised all that could be expected from a generous Prince, and a Valiant Commander; which the Effects should Witness; for he resolved not to quit the field till either Conqueror or Dead. The Earl on the Other side, being got to the highest part of his Camp pleaded the Justice of his Cause; showing how necessary the Extirpation of so cruel and monstrous a Tyrant was, for Public and Private good: That there was not a more praiseworthy action, nor more conformable to whatsoever Law, then to punish Him who having destroyed his Own house, by the Effusion of so Innocent Blood, and Defamed it with so False defamations, had Slain, impoverished, and brought to an ill end so many of the Nobility, only out of a desire to Tyrannize: For what concerned Himself, he would say nothing; from whom the lawful inheritance was usurped, which had been so long possessed by the house of Lancaster; all whose Kings had been men of Reputation in the World, and of Glory to the Kingdom; and if there were any thing amiss in the Last, they were not his Faults, but superabundant Goodness abused by wicked people: It was to be believed, that their adversary Outwardly assailed by Their forces, and Inwardly by his Own faults, must needs fall; since God's judgements the Longer they are in coming they fall the Heavier, the weight of Heaven's scourge being (according to the orders of Divine justice) inevitable: It was not to be endured, that to the excess of so many enormities, Incest should be added; the Only sin remaining for him to have run through the whole Catalogue of wickedness: That he pretended to marry his Niece the Princess Elizabeth, to honest by some colourable Title, his unlawful possession of the Crown; the which being due to Him, as only true Heir, and therewithal the said Princess (who was promised to him in marriage) 'twould be great error in Them to permit either the One or the Other: That since God had freed him from so many Treacheries, been gracious to him, in suffering him quietly to pass the Seas, to be peacefully received in England, and brought to confront His and the Common Enemy, he would not be now wanting to work the confusion of that Enemy, through Their valour; since he makes use of Good men to punish the Wicked: Their rewards were to be Great, all goods Confiscable should speedily be distributed by Him, who was to be Judge of each man's valour and desert: They ought not to be terrified at their own Small numbers, and the Many of the Enemy; for as divine Justice was the first argument of Victory, so those people which they saw were led on by the Lord Stanley, were all for Them; as likewise were many Others, who now appearing under the Enemy's Colours would in the heat of the battle show themselves Friends. For Himself; he promised all that could be expected from a Soldier, and Commander; He desired them only to Imitate Him in what belonged to the Soldier; that whilst he fought, They should fight; and when He should forbear to fight, that then they should Forsake him: The sum of all his considerations and reasons were; That as the Victory consisted in their Valour, so if they should be Failing to themselves, were to fall under the power of an Enemy, who not being to be paralleled for Cruelty, 'twas better for them to Die Honourably with Sword in Hand, then Ignominiously to Languish under a Tyrant, that had not forborn his own Nephews. This being said, with a Confident heart, and with Cheerful countenance he gave on upon the Enemy, and was as cheerfully followed by his men. Richard fared otherwise: no Jollity was observed in his march nor yet willingness, save in such whose fortunes depended upon His: all the rest were wavering and divided into Three several opinions; some thought to side with the Earl, some with him of the two who should Overcome, and some, neither with the One nor the Other, but to be mere Lookerson. Richard being now King found like loyality in his subjects, as whilst He was a subject, he used to the King his Nephew. There stood between the two Armies a piece of marish ground with some causey ways that had been made for the conveniency of Passengers; and though the season (it being the 22 of August) had hardened it, yet the Earl, knowing the situation thereof to be for his purpose, to secure his small number on that side, he hastened to be first Master thereof: and having it on his right hand he won the Sun, which was in face of the Enemy; who advancing, the fight began. The Earl of Oxford being himself so far advanced that he was in danger to be cut off, commanded his men not to stir Ten foot from their Colours: whereupon They forbearing to fight, that they might close together; the King's Vanguard did the like, being desirous either Not to fight, or that the victory might be theirs against whom they were Enforced to fight. But Oxford being returned to his charge, returned to Handy blows. At the joining together of the two Armies, their several inclinations were quickly seen: those of the King's side that Fought fought Faintly; and those who fought Not, withdrew themselves, and forsook the Campe. The King had commanded those he most relied on, to have a care that businesses might be carried without Disorder, and that they should advertise him of any Danger that should appear; These seeing how some were Negligent, and how other some withdrew themselves, advised him to save himself, judging that he was betrayed. But Divine Justice would not suffer him to listen to such advice; no not when Victory appearing evidently on the Adversaries part, they presented him with a Fleet horse whereon to escape: the which he would not do saying, That that day was to terminate either the War or his Life. Understanding afterwards that the Earl was not far from him guarded but with a few Gens de Arms, he spurred on towards him and knowing him by some marks, he ran at him with his Lance in Rest; the Earl was not displeased with the encounter, judging it the true way to decide their controversy: but he could not meet him hand to hand, being thwarted by some of his own men. They gave against the Standard, slew Sir William Brandon the Standard bearer, and advancing forwards, Sir john Cheiney stopped his passage, whom he bore to the ground, though he were a Gentleman of much strength and valour. The Earl with his Sword in hand stopped his fury, at the very instant when the Lord Stanley investing the King's squadrons afforded occasion to such as had a mind thereunto to runaway: the which when Richard perceived, he left the Earl, and thrust himself into the thickest of the fight, either to reunite his own men, or die the sooner: the later of which befell him; for fight valiantly, he fell with his Sword in hand all besmeared with blood. All things made for victory on the Earl's behalf, to counterpoise the smallness of his numbers: in himself, Prudence, Diligence, and Valour; in those that sided with him, Despair of safety if they should lose the day, and the Regaining of their Goods, Country, and Honours, if they should Overcome. But all this was not likely to have sufficed; for the King's desperate valour, who encouraging by his example, kept his men in their duties, had brought the enemy in the two hours' space which the battle endured to such a pass, as being but few and out of breath, they began to give back: whereupon if the Lord Stanley (who kept himself to decide the day) had not come in to succour, they were likely, all of them, to be lost. We have hitherto spoken ill of Richard, though not so ill as he deserved: yet now we must say, That though he lived ill, he died well, according to the esteem of humane generosity. His end bore with it heroical effects: Wisdom and Fortitude were two lights which if they did not illuminate the actions of his past Life, they did illustrate his present Death. When he saw himself abandoned by all; that those who yet stayed by him, served against their wills; but very few willingly; he thought it would be base in him and prejudicial for him to run away, since thereby he should lose his reputation with the People, whereon his welfare did depend. He therefore resolved to do his uttermost; for should he Overcome, all things were likely to succeed well unto him; and should he lose the day, Death would be advantageous; he having no hope at all of safety: Enemies on all sides; Scotland (his only refuge) was but a fading hope, notwithstanding the new Peace, and lately contracted Marriage; well might he trust thereto if his fortune should prove Good, but not if otherwise: and say it should Favour Him, He had but little hopes of getting thither untaken by the way, being so generally hated; and 'twas impossible for him to pass unknown, for his features and shape of body were such, by those that had never seen him. There is to be discerned a confused mingle-mangle of virtues in this; wisdom, in knowing his Danger to be such as was unavoidable; and Fortitude, in resolving to die since he could not eschew danger: so as Writers have great reason to affirm that he won more Honour in these two hours by his Death, than he had done all the time of his Life. For what concerns his Souls health; God is able of Stones to raise up children unto Abraham, but this is but when he pleaseth: and although there be no differences to be made in Him of Easie or Uneasy (since He framed the whole World by his bare Word; He spoke and it was made; He commanded and it was Created) yet let it be permitted according to humane conjecture to say, That it is, I will not say more Easy, but more usual for him to save one who is naturally Good, than one who is naturally Bad: since natural Goodness may be said to be the Materia Prima of Salvation, containing in her that Disposition, which, that we might be saved, was of His mere mercy bestowed upon us gratis. So as though the rule of Christianity teacheth us not to Judge any one to the Damned, yet it forbids us not to Doubt of a man's Salvation; as we do of Richard's: for as in the good Tree that beareth good Fruit, some may be Wormy and Rotten; so in Mankind, man created to the fruition of Heavenly Glory, may notwithstanding be damned, if he be wormeaten with wickednesses and rotten with the obstinacy of sin. His Death afforded invitation to those who yet fought to save themselves; and the rest that, like Spectators, had not moved from their station, came to give obedience to the Conqueror; by whom they were graciously received, as likewise were those who laying down their Arms, submitted themselves unto him. Of the number of the Slain it is diversely written: some speak of a Thousand, some of four Thousand. Sir Gilbert Talbot in an account which he giveth to his friends in writing, says there died only Ten of the Earl's side: Hall says a Hundred. Of the Peers on Richard's side were slain, the Duke of Norfolk and the Lord Ferrer of Chartley: of Knight's Sir Richard Ratcliff, and Sir Robert Brakenbury, Lieutenant of the Tower: but few Gentlemen. The Duke of Norfolk was persuaded by his friends to withdraw himself from the Battle; the which he denying to do, two Verses were fastened to his Chamber door the night before the Fight, wherein he was advised not to engage himself in the behalf of a King that was Bought and Sold; but he, having been true to him in his Life would be so likewise in his Death: and was praised for it. The Prisoners were many amongst which was Sir William Catesby (he who betrayed the Lord Hastings) a man of great esteem among the Professors of the Lawyers, and the chief of the King's Counsel. He was with some Others beheaded two days after at Leicester. Of those that fled away the most considerable were Viscount Lovel and the two brothers Humphrey, and Thomas Stafford, who got into the Sanctuary of St johns in Gloucester. Of those who would not fight, was the Earl of Northumberland; who coming to acknowledge the Conqueror, was therefore by him received to grace, and afterwards made Privy Counsellor. Thomas Howard Earl of Surrey, Son to the deceased Duke of Norfolk, was not received into favour, though he laid down his Arms; but was put into the Tower, where he stayed a good while; the inward friendship he had had with Richard doing him no good; but being afterwards received to grace, he was created Treasurer of England. The Earl after the Victory made Te Deum be Sung. He praised his Soldier's valour, and thanked them, promising to reward them according to their Loyalties. He gave order to bury the Dead, and to cure such as were wounded. He Knighted such as he thought did most deserve that honour: the which being done out of his Own mere motion, did so inanimate his Soldiers as they cried him up King; whereupon Stanley took Richard's Crown which was found amongst the Booty, and put it on his Head: so as he was chosen King by the Soldier, according to the ancient custom of divers Kingdoms. The Lord Strange, who as we have said, was delivered over to the custody of those who guarded the Tents Royal, that when the Battle should be ended he might be given in charge to the Hangman, at his guardians entreaties, interceded for them: the King granted him their Pardon, received him with much Honour, and his Father with much Joy. He went from thence to Leicester where he stayed two days to refresh his men and take order for his going to London. The day before, Richard went from that City in great Pride and Pomp, waited on by so many Lords, Knights, and Soldiers as made the World to wonder: he returned thither whether the next day like a slain Buck laid across upon the Croupe of a Horse, his Head and Arms hanging on One side, his Legs on the other, Scorned and all Naked (save his Privy Members which were covered with a course piece of Cloth) besmeared with Blood and daubed with Dirt, a Horrid sight to behold. The Herald's name that carried him was White-Bore, and the White-Bore was Richard's Impresa, the which was torn and cut in pieces in as many places of the Kingdom as it was found. His Body lay naked two whole days upon the bare Earth in a Church of the Minorites in Leicester, whither it was carried: nor could the People be satisfied with that sight, which being Gastfull in any Other, was in Him Pleasing and Delightful, so much had his actions exasperated them against him. He was buried in the said Church without any manner of Solemnity or Funeral rites. King Henry shortly after made a Monument be made for him with his Statue of Alabaster which represented him to the Life: the which at the suppression of that Monastery was broken in Pieces: the place where He was buried is since overgrown with Weeds and Nettles, so as it cannot be now said Here was Richard Buried. The only Memorial that remains thereof, is the Stone Coffin his Body was buried in, which now serves for a Trough for Horses to drink in, in a Neighbouring Village. They say the Body being taken from thence, was with much derision buried again at the foot of Bow-Bridge in Leicester: and many other things are said of it, which I rather believe to be the People's Invention, then that there is any thing of Truth in them. In Richard the Line masculine of the House of York ceased: some except Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, Son to the Duke of Clarence, whom I do not account upon, since fifteen Years after He likewise died without any Heirs Male: As we shall see. The End of the Eighth Book. The Ninth BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND, In the LIFE of Henry the Seventh. OUr Discourse leading us to treat of the Occurrences of a Kingdom, the Government whereof passed now from one Family to another; it will be necessary to know what pretences the present King had to lay claim to the kingdom, to the end there may remain no scruple touching the Justice or Injustice of the Alteration. Henry the Seventh was by his Genealogy so remote from laying any claim to the Crown by right of Blood, as the common opinion is he had no right at all thereunto. His father Edmund Earl of Richmond, was son to Owen Teuder and Queen Katherine the widow of Henry the fifth, whose Houses had no affinity nor relation of Kindred to the House of Lancaster. By his mother's side somewhat may be said for him; since Margaret Countess of Richmond (only daughter to the first Duke of Somerset, and grandchild to john Duke of Lancaster, the father of Henry the fourth, the first King of that House) pretended that in case the then-present Succession should fail, she and her son were to succeed, as rightly descended from the said john, the father as well of the house of Somerset as of that of Lancaster. But this meets with two oppositions: The one, That the House of Lancaster had no right at all to the Crown: The other, That, say it had, the House of Somerset did not partake therein, though sprung from the same Head. The reasons why the House of Lancaster had no pretence are these: Henry the fourth usurped the Crown from Edmund Mortimer descended from Philippe, daughter and heir to Lionel Duke of Lancaster, elder brother to the Duke of Lancaster, upon whom (King Richard the second dying without sons, as he did) the Succession fell: So as the usurpation having continued from father to son in Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth, 'twas impossible for them to transmit that right to Others, which they Themselves had not. That the House of Somerset, though the Other had had right, did not partake therein, is thus proved: The Duke of Lancaster having had three wives Blanch, Constance, and Katherine, the due claims of his children had by them, were not the same, forasmuch as concerned Inheritance, in respect of the several Dowries, and different Qualities of the three mothers. Blanch brought with her the Duchy of Lancaster; Constance, the pretences to the Kingdoms of Castille and Leon; and Katherine, nothing at all, being but a mere Waiting-woman to the abovesaid Blanch: So as if Henry the fourth and the daughters born of Blanch, could not pretend to the kingdoms of Castille and Leon, in prejudice to Katherine daughter to Constance; nor Katherine to the Dukedom of Lancaster, in prejudice of Henry the fourth and his sisters; much less could the children of Katherine have any pretence at all, in prejudice of the children by the former two wives, unless what you will allow them merely in respect of their Father's Inheritance; wherein must be considered their disadvantage of being the last born, therefore not to enjoy the prerogative which the Laws give to the firstborn: To this may be added, that they were born whilst Constance yet lived; so as they were not only Bastards, but in such a degree as doth aggravate the condition; they being on the Father's side born in Adultery: And though after the death of Constance, he married Katherine; (which subsequent Marriage was made legitimate by the double legitimation both of Pope and Parliament) yet, they not being of the whole Blood, the House of Somerset had nothing to do with the House of Lancaster, in what belonged to the Inheritance of the Crown, their legitimation making them only capable of their Inheritance by the Father: So as Henry the fourth being established in the kingdom by the Authority of Parliament, and by the same Authority his sons & such as should descend of them being declared his lawful Successors therein; he (in case his succession should fail) made no mention at all of his Half-brothers, or such as should descend from them. So as let it be granted that his Usurpation was no longer an Usurpation (it being allowed of by a Public Act of Election) yet had not the House of the Somerset (though descended from the same father) the same pretence; since not being able to pretend to the Dukedom of Lancaster, much less could it pretend to the Crown, the father having no pretence at all thereunto. And if Henry, his eldest son, obtained the Crown, it was by Purchase, and so as none should enjoy after him but such descending from him as he should specifically name: So as the Crown (according to the Laws of England) belonging to the House of York, by the Marriage with Anne, sister and heir to the aforesaid Edmund Mortimer, there remains somewhat of doubt whether the Parliament could invest the House of Lancaster to the right of the Crown, in prejudice to the first Mortimer, and consequently to the House of York. If it could not Then justly do it, neither could it justly do it after Henry the Seventh's pretence unto the Crown: and if it could do it; in the same manner and by the same right as it did operate to the prejudice of Mortimer & the House of York, by making Henry the fourth King; it might do the like to the prejudice of the House of Lancaster, by making Edward the 4 King. So as Henry the Seventh (be it either by Election or by natural Descent) is totally excluded from any right unto the Crown: which exclusion notwithstanding rests only in his Own Person, not in those who have descended from him. For having married Elizabeth the true Heir of the House of York, his sons begotten upon her were true Heirs to the Crown. And if in this particular we desire to be any thing favourable to him, let us say, that if the House of Lancaster had any such pretence, it had it by the Mother, who was Heir to the House of Somerset; and if the House of Somerset be different from that of Lancaster, so as he Thereby have no colour of Claim, yet may he have it Another way; being chosen King by the same power of Parliament as Henry the Fourth and Edward the 4 were: So as the legal Right being in Elizabeth according to Natural Descent, and in Him according to Election; and it being sufficient according to the laws of Nature and of the Kingdom, that the right be in any one of them, it matters not in which; since either of them having it, there is none that suffers wrong thereby. 'Tis a wonder notwithstanding that it could so much as fall into his imagination to pretend thereunto before this Marriage; and that Edward and Richard should without any cause be afraid of him: but the reason is, because, as Head of the Faction, he might be troublesome to them. For though Henry the Sixth and the Prince his son were extinguished (they being the last of the House of Lancaster) yet was not that Party or Faction extinguished; which could not be revived again, save under his conduct who had the nearest Relation thereunto. For this it was that the last Duke of Buckingham (not calling Henry to mind before his meeting with his mother) thought he himself had reason to pretend thereunto. In such a case, the right & lawful title of King imports not so much as the lawful Title to be Head of a Party: the first is communicable by Fortune, Force, or favour of Parliament; the other only by Descent: for upon such occasions, Law is not sought after, but a Pretence: To Pretend, is that which is desired, and which sufficeth. And this it was that moved the two Brothers to solicit to get him into their Tuition from the Duke of Britanny: for as for any thing else, they had no reason to fear him. The Lancastrian Faction had never been likely to have been revived, had not Richard been a Tyrant; for Edward, through his Affability, had grounded such an affection of the People towards the House of York, as neither would Richard's wickedness, nor Henry's goodness, have been able to have rooted it out: nay, Henry would have had none at all to have sided with him (though against a man so much abhorred) had it not been for his promise to marry Elizabeth, the Heir of the House and Kingdom. The troubles which afterwards befell him, sprung from hence; for he always showed himself but lukewarm in his affections towards his wife, and an irreconcilable enemy to her House; insomuch as having gotten the Victory and slain his Enemy, he grew obstinate in his will not to be King but by his Own Title: he deferred his Marriage, and Her Coronation, till such time as being crowned Himself, and established by Parliament, he had only accepted of the Title of Lancaster, as the First and Chiefest Fundamental; and of the other two (Conquest and Marriage) but as Accidental, or as Adjuncts. Nor ought this to be imputed to him as a Fault; since it was not caused by any Hatred he bore to the House of York, but out of the Love he bore unto Himself, and through a cautelous Foresight. For a noise being rumoured that the Duke of York was alive (preserved from death by those who had the charge to kill him) his claim by his Wife would have failed him, if her Brother had been alive, who could not have been excluded but by the litigious Title of Lancaster. And suppose this News were false, there remained yet Other doubts: for if she should die without children, the bare Title of Marriage would not make good the Crown unto Him, which was to fall upon her Sisters: And if she should die, leaving children by him behind her, the Crown would fall upon Them: so as many inconveniences might have happened to him thereby. For, suppose that his Chrildrens and the Parliament should both of them have been contented he should have continued in the Government, there is a great Difference betwixt reigning by virtue of Birth and Law, whereby he was not obliged to any; and the doing of the like by virtue of Another's Consent, which obliged him to Every one: In the first, he was Free and Independent; in the second, of Courtesy, and Dependent. To make use of his Title of Conquest, was Dangerous, and which might alienate even those that sided with him: for thereby he had authority to take what he would, from whom he would, to make what Conditions he pleased, to make Laws at his pleasure, to disannul Laws already made, when he liked; and to dispose of men, not as a King of Subjects, but as a Lord of Slaves. And though the Title of Lancaster were condemned by Parliament as Usurped and Unjust; and that he himself was called unto the Crown, not by virtue of his Own Title, but that by marrying with the Princess Elizabeth, the true Queen and Heir to the House of York, all those Disputes might be ended; yet moved by the abovesaid Considerations, and not valuing the inconveniences that might arise, he declared himself King by virtue of his Birth, not naming the Princess Elizabeth in any thing; as willing to run whatsoever danger, rather than to be King by his Wife's Courtesy, while she should Live; by the goodwill of his Children, if she should Die; and by the Permission of Parliament, if he should have no Issue by her. He began his Reign the Two and twentieth day of August, 1485 1485, at the same time that Richard ended his: from whom he did very much differ in Conditions. They were both Constant, the one in Wickedness, the other in Worth: insomuch as had he not had too great a desire to increase his Treasure, he would hardly be outdone by whatsoever praise-deserving Prince; he was deservedly praised for his Wisdom and Valour. The Lord Chancellor Bacon, who hath written his Life, calls him England's Solomon, not so much in that he brought Peace thereunto, as that being Wise like Solomon, he was, like Him, very Grievous and Burdensome to his People, never wanting some invention or other to draw Moneys from them. The Princess Elizabeth, and Edward Plantagenet Earl of Warwick son to the Duke of Clarence, were in Sherifhutton-Castle in Yorkshire, where they were both kept by Richard's command. King Henry commanded that the Princess should be brought up to London, to the Queen her Mother; whither she went attended on by Lords and Ladies: But the Earl of Warwick, he gave order that the keeper of the Castle should deliver him unto the custody of Sir Robert Willoughby, to be by him brought prisoner to the Tower; for though he were very Young, yet was he not a person fit to enjoy his Liberty in such litigious times. For if being a Prisoner, there wanted not some who feigned themselves to be Him, taking his Personage upon them; what would have been done, had he had his Liberty? Henry's resolution therefore in this point, did not proceed from a violence of Will, or weakness of Judgement (as is the opinion of some Writers) but from exact Wisdom; choosing of two evils the Lesser and least Dangerous. He went from Leicester towards London, without any ostentation of Victory or Conquest: his Journey was peaceful; all Military insolences were forbidden, and forborn: he marched not like a New King, but like one who had been so Long; welcomed wherever he passed with Shouts of Joy. His taking up the Olive-branch, and laying aside the Palm, did enhearten the People; who did now promise themselves that quiet which since Henry the Fourth's time till that present they had enjoyed but by Fits; being subject to so many Alterations, as had not those Evils ensued which did ensue, the very Expectation and Apprehension of them was an intermitting Fever for the space of Fourscore & six years. In like manner made he his entrance into London: for though he was met by the Mayor, Magistrates, and Citizens (besides the Nobility and Gentlemen which accompanied them) notwithstanding, dispensing with the Pomp usually observed at the first entrance of Kings into that City, he made his entry in a Coach undisplayed; to the end it might not be thought that having reinvested himself into his Country by the favour of Arms, and gotten the Crown by the King's death, he had any intention to Triumph over the People. His entry was upon a Saturday, the day of his Victory; which day he solemnised all his life-time, as being always the happiest day to him of all the days of the week. He alighted out of his Coach at Paul's Church; where he made Te Deum be sung, and caused the Colours taken from the Enemy, to be there hung up. He pretended to no other Trophies; neither did he own this as the Effects of his Own Valour, or from Fortune, but as from God, the only Fortune whereunto Sacrifices ought to be made. He lodged in the Bishop's Palace which joins unto the Church, as not being far from the Tower, from whence he was to come to his Coronation. And because it was said he had given his word to marry Anne the daughter and heir to the Duke of Britanny, (which in respect of the favours he had received from that Duke, was believed to be true) he in an Assembly of the chiefest Lords of the Kingdom, which was called for that purpose, did ratific his promise to marry the Princess Elizabeth: by which he stopped the Whispers and Fears that were had of him: yet did he defer the Consummating of it without any manner of scandal, till being Crowned, and in Possession by his Own Title, he might avoid being called King in the right of his Wife. He made his entrance into the Tower on Simon and Iude's eeve, and on the Feast-day made Twelve Knights Bannerets. He created his Uncle jasper, Earl of Pembroke, Duke of Bedford; he who having brought him up of a Child, saved him from Edward the Fourth, by carrying him into Britanny. He created his Father-in-law, the Lord Stanley, Earl of Derby; and Edward Courtney Earl of Devonshire. He was Crowned in the Church at Westminster on the Thirtieth day of October with the accustomed Solemnities, and joyful Acclamations both of the Nobility and People. Cardinal Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, executed that Office. He held a Parliament Seven days after, wherein he annulled all the Decrees for the Confiscations of the Lives and Livelihood of such as took part with him; and made the like Decree against the chiefest of the Other side: and to take away all suspicion from the rest, he granted out a General Pardon, which freed such of fear, who had cause to fear: for his having condemned those whom he would not pardon, did secure These, and 1483 was a sure sign he would pardon the rest; so as quitting the Sanctuaries, and places where they had hid themselves, they swore Fealty to him, and did their Homage answerable to the tenure of the Declaration, and re-entered into their Possessions. Afterwards as concerning his Title (which was the chiefest Concernment) he governed himself with such cautelousness, as that the Princess Elizabeth not being named therein, he would have the Act that was made to contain a Double sense: that the inheritance of the Crown should remain in Him and in his Children lawfully to be begotten, not declaring whether it were his by Nature, or by Conquest; it sufficing him that whatsoever interpretation was made of it, it must make for his advantage. He would not prescribe any Succession in case he, and those that should lawfully descend from him, should fail, because it should not be thought to be done of purpose to exclude the House of York: he therefore left the decision thereof to the Laws. He, in the same Parliament, conferred more Honours: he created Monsieur de Chandos (a Gentleman of Britanny, who during his being there, had been his familiar friend, and would needs accompany him in his Expedition for England) Earl of Bath: he made Sir Giles Aubeny and Sir Robert Willoughby, Barons: he restored Edward Stafford, eldest son to the Duke of Buckingham, to his Blood, Dignity, and Goods: and though his Confiscation were great, yet his Father having been the First Promoter of his greatness, and having thereupon lost his Life, he restored all unto his Son: which won him the reputation of being Grateful. And though Kings do seldom call Parliaments, without demanding some Aids by Moneys, and doing some Acts of Grace unto the People, he thought it not fitting to make any such demand at This time, as not having any Grace to confer, fitting to the time: for though the General Pardon was an Act of Grace, yet would not he pretend it to be such, but rather a Correspondency to the satisfaction they had given him, in receiving him to be King by his Own Title. Besides, he not having War with any one, and having many great Confiscations fallen unto him (the which he so moderated as might become a favourable Confiscator, and be expected in a good Government) he was willing to spare his Subjects purses. And though his intention was to govern in such sort as his People should have no reason to hate Him, nor He to fear Them; yet knowing he had Enemies, he instituted a Guard of Fifty Archers under the Command of a Captain; which was a New thing in England, where their Kings are only guarded by the Laws and their Subjects affections. So as to take away all Jealousy, he declared the Institution to be Perpetual: moved thereunto by what he in the time of his Exile had observed others to do: and, for that the want of a Guard doth misbecome the Majesty of a King; and is requisite to be had, if not for Necessity, for Decency. The Parliament being dissolved, he forgot not that he had left the marquis Dorset and Sir john Bourchier as pledges in France for the Moneys wherewith he paid the Forces he brought with him into England. Willing therefore upon this occasion to try the inclination of the Citizens, he commanded the Lord Treasurer to desire the Lord Mayor of London that the City might lend him Six thousand Marks: and after sundry consultations, the business was decided by the loan of Two thousand pounds sterling; the which though it came short of the sum that was desired, he took in good part, supplying the Remainder (which was much) out of his Own moneys, to the end the Hostages might return for England, as they did. He forgot not the services done to him by john Morton Bishop of Ely, and Richard Fox Bishop of Exeter, for which he made them both of his Privie-Councel, and gave unto Morton the Archbishopric of Canterbury, which fell void by the death of Cardinal Bourchier: he made Fox Lord Privie-Sea; promoting him from the Bishopric of Exeter to that of Bath and Wells, from thence to Durham, and from thence to Winchester, the richest of All the rest. Having now no impediment to hinder the performance of his promise, he married the Princess Elizabeth, to the people's so 1486 great joy, as he was not much therewithal pleased; ror he never had any great inclination to the Match: his inveterate enmity to her Family prevailed more with him, than did the Goodness, Fruitfulness and Beauty of so worthy a Wife. Soon after Henry's coming to the Crown, England was afflicted with a disease not known in former times; so as the remedies not being known, many perished of it: of a Hundred scarcely One escaped, till experience taught the Way how to cure it. Men were taken with a deadly Sweat, with Pains in the Head, and Burnings in the Stomach, which rendered them dry and desirous of Cold, they were by the one and the other of them dispatched in Four and twenty hours: for, casting off their clothes, and drinking cold Beer as it came from the Cellar, they died irrecoverably. But some few relapsing twice or thrice into this Malady, it was found that taking Cold and not drinking Warm drink, were the causes which made it mortal. The Cure then that was found for it, was, To endure the Heat Four and twenty hours, in such manner as the Sweat was neither Irritated, nor kept Back; and to drink Warm drink a little at a time, rather to Allay then to Extinguish thirst. This Sickness began in the midst of September, and continued all October: it hindered not the solemnity of the Coronation: it begot no Swelling nor Sores, and became curable if the remedies were Timely applied: neither was it Contagious but the Fever which did accompany it was Pestilential. It was judged to proceed from a Malignant vapour, which stuffing up the Vital spirits, was wrestled with by nature, to drive it out by Sweat. An Author of good quality saith it could not be called Epidemical, though it so generally spread itself: and that if sprung from a certain malignity of the Air, occasioned by the unseasonableness of the weather. But Fernelius, who wrote of it at the entreaty of an English Ambassador, calleth it Epidemical. Those that esteemed it a Prodigy, would have it to foreboad a Hard and Troublesome Reign. But Polydor Virgil's opinion is not to be rejected: That the King should be troubled even till the Last day of his Life; since from the beginning to the end, he Never had any quiet. A Divination which was not likely to prove false, being made After the Event; nor did the Other which was made Before it. All things having succeeded according to his wish, Henry thought now he should meet with no more oppositions: He was King by his Own Title, in his Own Right: he had married the Princess; and by his General Pardon and Restitution of Goods, he had reconciled such as were his Professed Enemies: yet the Northern people, bearing still a love to the House of York, and to the late Richard, he thought it requisite for him to go into those parts; hoping by his Presence to cure their infatuated imaginations. He kept his Easter at Lincoln; whither he was hardly come, when he understood how the Lord Lovel and the Two Staffords (brothers) Humphrey, and Thomas, had forsaken Sanctuary, it not being known whither they were gone: but assoon as he was come to York, he understood that the Lord Lovel was not far from thence, with good store of men about him: and that the Staffords, having raised Forces in Worcester-shire, were marched towards York to assault him. This second information, though it did a lit tle trouble him, yet he took it to be but the remainder of Richard's yet panting spirits: but he was more confused to think that he was amongst a people that did not affect him, that sided with the House of York, and of whom, without danger, he could not make use. Amidst these difficulties, he mustered out of those that followed him, and such as had relation to them, Three thousand fight men, on whom he might affy; which being sufficiently ill armed, he gave in charge to the Duke of Bedford; giving him for his Vanguard a General Pardon, which like Canonshot might ruin the Enemy; as it did. For the Duke being come in sight of him, and the Heralds having published the Pardon, he was therewith so stricken, as doubting not only to be Abandoned, but to be yielded up Prisoner, he fled the same night towards Lancaster; and from thence into Flanders, to the Duchess Dowager of Burgundy: whilst the rest, laying down their Arms, yielded themselves to the Duke. Whereupon they that were with the Staffords, their hopes being lost, dispersed themselves into sundry places; and the two brothers got into the Sanctuary at Colnham near Abington, where they found not the safety they imagined: for the privilege thereof not extending to save Traitors, they were taken from thence. Humphrey was executed; and Thomas was pardoned, for that, as the Younger brother, he was enforced to obey the Elder. The King having quieted this Rebellion, and reduced these Northern people to his Obedience, returned to London. The Queen in September brought him a Son; who lived, though born in the Eighth Month, contrary to the rule of Common Observation: it may be there was some Error in the Calculation; for it is more likely that Women may be deceived in the time of their Conception, and in the Counting of their Months, then that Hypocrates should be deceived in his Principles. He named him Arthur, in memory of the ancient Britons, from whom he descended; Wales (as hath been said) not being any part of the Angli-Saxones, which possessed all the Rest of the Kingdom; but of the Original people of the Island, the residue of the Britons, which saved themselves by fleeing into those Provinces: and from thence came the First so famous Arthur, who really and without any manner of Fable or Romanza, was a very valiant Prince: so as Henry to revive his memory, called his Son after His name. There lived at this time in Oxford one Richard Simond a Priest, indifferently well educated, but of mean birth: and who (abounding with strange ambitious fancies) durst do that which another could never have dared to do. This man took upon him to bring up a young Boy of so Sweet and Ingenuous a Countenance as one would not have thought him to be a Baker's Son, as he was: his name was Lambert Symnel. There were then Two rumours noised every where, and which were spread abroad by such as out of Faction or out of Envy could not endure that Henry should reign: the one, that the Duke of York, son to Edward the 4, was Alive; the other, that the King was resolved to put the Earl of Warwick, who was prisoner in the Tower, secretly to death. The First was divulged, to nurse up Hopes in such as were ill affected; the Second, to increase Hatred against the King, as if, equally cruel with Richard, he were about to treat the Earl of Warwick, as Richard had treated his Nephews. Whereupon Simond meeting with so fit an occasion, bethought himself to make Lambert personate the Duke of York; but presently altering his Opinion, he judged it fitter for his purpose to have him personate the prisoner, the Earl of Warwick: and that if his endeavours should succeed, and that Lambert should be made King, he himself should be recompensed with the Chief Mitre of England, and the Government of King and Kingdom. Neither did he think to meet with any great Obstacle herein; since that the love to the House of York remaining yet in the hearts of Most of the Kingdom, they could not possibly endure that the King having married the Princess Elizabeth, he should not suffer her to be Crowned as she ought to be. Resolving hereupon, he began to give such instruction to Lambert as such a business required; and met with an Aptness in him fit to receive whatsoever documents: but considering afterwards that his pupil was to represent the person of one that was known to many, and not known to him, he thought it was impossible to be done without the Assistance of somebody who was conversant in the Court, who might be informed by those that had served the Earl, of his childish conversation, and of all things that had befallen since King Edward's death; at which time he was but Ten years old. None being fitter for such an Office than the Queen Dowager, she was imagined to be the Instructress: for she was but little satisfied to see her daughter so little beloved, and so coolly treated as a Wife, and as a Queen, wanting the usual Marks of that dignity; (for Henry had neglected her Coronation, though he had lately born him a Son) not that her intention was to make Lambert King, but to make use of him, to Depose her Son-in-law; to substitute the infant-Prince, the lawful Successor, in his place; and, in case she should meet with too great oppositions, Lincoln, or Warwick; which were Both of the House of York. That which made people of this opinion, was, Her being shortly after confined to a Monastery, upon no weighty pretence; as we shall see. The King thought it expedient to punish her under the colour of a Petty known fault, for a heinous one which was not fitting to be known. Howsoever it was, Lambert took upon him the gestures and behaviour of a great Personage, with so miraculous punctuality, as that these being joined to his Natural Sweetness, a True Prince could not be form out with more true Perfections than were these false ones which appeared to be true in Him. The reasons which made Simond change his first design and choose rather to have his Comedian personate the son to the Duke of Clarence, then King Edward's son (though he that was Dead might easilier be counterfeited than he that was Alive) was, That when a speech went of his being escaped out of the Tower, he observed so Great Joy in the People, as he thought he should have more to further him in his design, and that it would be easier for him to insinuate a falsehood in the Person of This man; falsely supposed to have made an escape, then in that Other whose escape would the hardlier be believed: for in it Two Impossibilities were to be supposed; Pity in the Varlets that were to murder him, which could not, without danger, enter into such souls, especially under such a King as was Richard; and the Escape from the Tower, which augmenting the danger, took from the belief of any Compassion in Them, or Life in Him. But that which chiefly made him resolve upon This, was, that whilst he was doubtful what to do, 'twas said for a truth that Warwick was Dead in the Tower. Now to act this Comedy well, he did not think England a fit Scene, a proportionable Distance being required in things which must be taken for what they are not: unavoidable difficulties were to be met withal upon the place, which might be avoided abroad; where no Witnesses being, to convince; nor Acquaintance; to confound; boldness▪ becomes impudence: without which, Cheats of this nature can hardly be effected. He resolved to go over into Ireland, a Kingdom affectionate to the House of York, and wherein King Henry at his coming to the Crown had altered nothing; neither Deputy, Councillor, nor Officer; the same commanded there, that were there placed by Richard: a negligence to be blamed in so Prudent a Prince as He was, who knew the inclination of that Kingdom and People, wherein if alterations chance to happen, remedies are hardly come by; none being to be had from within itself, and all External helps (the Sea interposed between them and home) being Difficult, Dangerous and Slow. All which made for Symond's purpose; who coming before Thomas Fitz-Gerald Earl of Kildare, who was Deputy (a man ill-affected to Henry, as he was well-affected to the House of York) presented his pretended Prince unto him, using such illusions as Lambert not having any one part in him which did not gainsay his mean Extraction, the Deputy believed him to be what his Master's speeches, and his Studied Nobility made him appear to be: insomuch that acquainting some of his trustiest friends with this Secret under the Seal of Confession, he found them, and together with them, the People, prone to Rebellion. They received this fancied Prince with great honour; they gave the Castle of Dublin to him for his Lodging; and few days after proclaimed him King, by the name of Edward the Sixth. There was not any one Province that denied him obedience; and all of them joined in declaring War against Henry: whilst on the contrary side, there was not any one that spoke a word, or drew a sword in his behalf. But that Kingdom being but bare of Money and Arms, and but meanly furnished with Soldiers, they hoped that such in England as were friends to the House of York, and Margaret Duchess of Burgundy, would, in a business of so great consequence, assist them with their Supplies: whom they advertise that Edward Plantagenet is escaped out of the Tower and come into Ireland, where he was received and proclaimed King; that they were purposed to bring him into England, his hereditary Kingdom, if they would be ready with their assistance, to secure his Entry; and that his Aunt of Burgundy would assist him with Money, Soldiers, and Commanders. Margaret, by reason of her virtue (for she had nothing in her unblamable but her inveterate hate to the House of Lancaster) was in great esteem amongst the Flemings: she was the third wife to Charles Duke of Burgundy, who being slain before Nanci, left no Heir behind him save Mary (born to him by Elizabeth of Bourbon, his second wife) who was married to Maximilian of Austria son to the Emperor Frederick the third, to whom she bare Philip and Margaret, which (their mother being dead) were brought up with much charity and affection by this window, she doing for Them, as she could have done had they been her Own children: which caused the Subjects, moved thereunto by her so great Charity, to honour and obey her, as if she had been their Naturally-reigning Princess. Her husband had left her a very great Dowry; so as she having had no other occasion of Expense, saving her frugal Domestic affairs, she might by the Moneys she had gathered in so many years, of herself, unassisted by any Other, undertake this business. She therefore willingly listened to the Embassy: not that she was Ignorant of the Falsehood of it (for she knew her Nephew so strictly kept, as he could not escape) but that she might have an occasion to trouble Henry. His marriage with her Niece, which should have reconciled her to him, did the more Incense her against him, since it was the way to Establish him in the Kingdom, and to take it from Her House, without any Hope of ever Recovering it again: whereupon she readily Promised Assistance; and, in its due time, Sent it more Readily. The King, when he heard of this Rebellion in Ireland, was very much troubled; being too-late ware he had done ill to leave that Nation under the Command of such as depended upon his Predecessor. And though he could not have imagined such an accident as This, yet was he not to be excused; for Wisdom ought to foresee not only Evident; but Contingent dangers: neither was it Contigency, to trust Ireland in the hands of such as were Wellwishers to the Adverse party; it was not to be believed, that together with their Prince they would change their Inclinations; for Hatred in inveterate Factions, is seldom changed. But having no ready remedy, nor being able to exercise his own Valour upon this occasion, as he had done upon Others, by reason of the Sea's interposal, he called his Council together, to know their Opinions, and to resolve upon what was to be done. They propounded and concluded upon Three expedients: First, a General Pardon for All faults (Treason against the King's Person not excepted) to all such as within a Prefixed time should Confess themselves guilty: a thing most Usual upon Other occasions, but necessary at This time; since Ordinary Treason, which is usually pardonable, was not Now treated of; but treason grown to such a Height as makes the partakers therein Desperate, even to the Uttermost Hazard; their welfare being incompatible with the welfare of the Prince. This Article was resolved on in consideration of Sir Thomas Broughton, who had saved the Lord Lovel: for, being a powerful man in his Country, he might have assembled many men, who, joined to the rest, might have done much harm: and though there was no doubt of his Correspondency with the Irish, yet it was Now no fitting time to proceed against him with Severity; it was thought fittest for the Present Danger, not to put him to Desperation, not to Provoke him to Mischief, and to show him a way to save himself. Secondly, that Edward Plantagenet should be taken out of the Tower, and shown to the People, to the end they might know he was not dead; and that the supposed Plantagenet in Ireland was a mere Chimaera, framed only to trouble the State. Thirdly, that the Queen-mother should be confined to the Nunnery of Bermondsey, and that her goods should be confiscated; for that having promised the Princess Elizabeth to the now-King, whilst he was in Britanny, she had, contrary to the Articles of Agreement, delivered Her, and the rest of her sisters, up to Richard. The issue of these three Resolutions, were; Broughton bit not at this bait of Pardon: Edward Plantagenet was led in Procession to Paul's, being by the way discoursed withal by divers of the chief of the Nobility that knew him, especially by such of whom the King had any Suspicion; to the end they might be convinced in their reason. The which though it availed in England, yet did it no good in Ireland: where the King was accused, That, out of an intent to rob Edward the Sixth of his Inheritance, which he had Tyrannously enjoyed, he had showed to the view of the People, a young boy who was somewhat like him, to the end they might believe a Falsehood, thereby cheating the World, and by an unparallelled Imposture profaning the Church, and sacred Ceremonies. The resolution concerning the Queen was that Alone which took Effect, though not without Scandal: for there being no other cause then what was alleged, the punishment savoured too much of Avarice and Cruelty: of Avarice, because the King got thereby her Confiscation, which was very Great; of Cruelty, because the Weakness and Vanity of a Woman (the Weakness caused by the Threats, the Vanity by the Promises of a Tyrant) and the Irksomeness of a Sanctuary (an End whereof she was Never to expect) did not deserve so Severe a punishment. Not but that her fault was very Great, since she did what in Her lay to render the Kings return vain, and to make those Lords for ever lose their Country, and their Possessions, who upon her promises were gone into Britanny: but the Difficulty of so dangerous an enterprise under the conduct of a Young man, without Forces; against a powerful King, a skilful Warrior; together with the Example of the Duke of Buckingham, who first began it with so Unfortunate Success were able to have made a Stronger mind than Hers to have Wavered: the sufferings of her Body and Mind, made her covet a Quiet; which she could not hope for from a few Exiled People: and if This were her Only fault, wherefore was she not at first proceeded against, before her daughter's Marriage, and the Prince's birth; in all which time the King showed no distaste against her, neither held her as a Delinquent? But in my Opinion it is to be thought that the King's nature, though Covetous, yet not Wicked, did not move him to deal so injuriously with her: rather that he was induced to these proceedings out of some Hidden cause; and that those Forces above mentioned, which made her guilty in the highest degree, made him so exceeding Severe: else he would have punished her Before, as in Justice he might have done. But Prince's Imaginations are not as manifest as their Actions. This Queen was one of Fortune's greatest works; whose Inconstancy in the interchanges of her Felicity and Misery, proved Constant: from being a widow to a bare Knight, she was made wife to a great King; who being fled away, deposed, and banished, she was enforced for the Safety of herself and the Prince her son, which she bore there, to take Sanctuary; her husband not many months after returning home Victorious, and Triumphing, she likewise returned with him, and during his life, lived in her former Greatness and Felicity: when he died, she fell upon the like necessity, as formerly, of taking Sanctuary; her Brother-in-law having usurped the Kingdom from her Sons, declared them to be Bastards, and cruelly put them to Death; for her yet greater grief, her Brother, and one of her sons, had by her Former husband, died under the Hangman's hands: in less than Three months' space, she was wounded with the death of Three Sons and a Brother: her eldest Daughter being married to the new King, moved by her womanish anger to practise uneffectible Chimaeras, she lost her Honour, Goods and Liberty; and shortly after died unhappy; not visited by any whilst she lived, abandoned by her friends. She was endued with Rare Qualities; but her ruin proceeded from her abuse in the Choice of them: Wisdom and Wiliness being of the like Habit and Aspect, are easily mistaken One for Another; she took the Later for the Former; which she would not have done had she well considered them, for they are of Differing Liveries; the one's is bordered about with Virtue, the other's with Deceit. Queen's College in Cambridge is her foundation, and so called from her at this hour. The Earl of Lincoln fled at this same time into Flanders: he was son to john de la Poole Duke of Suffolk, and Elizabeth, Eldest sister to the Two Brothers Edward and Richard. Richard had declared him to be his Successor, in case he should die without Children; for having published King Edward and the Duke of Clarence to be born in Adultery, he could not (if he would maintain the pretended justice of his Own cause to the Crown) but reject their issue; especially having injured them so heinously. The Earl, upon these hopes, flew High in his conceits: he was a man so well conditioned, as had his Title been just, he deserved to have attained at what he aimed. His designs, which were born to the ground by Henry, who by his Uncle's death had gotten the Crown, began to renew again at this Irish news: for knowing the pretended Plantagenet's falsehood, he thought the troubles that were thereupon like to arise, would bring him to what he desired; for Henry being once overcome, it would be easy for Him to bear down the Impostor. The King had ofttimes had him in his thoughts; for being a Bird fit for the Cage, to let him fly loose Abroad, might prove pernicious to Himself and to the State: but the Earl of Warwick's imprisonment, at which the People were offended, was the cause why he imprisoned not Him; which should he do, they would take yet greater offence: and he hoped, though He were at Liberty, he could not hurt him so long as the Other was in Prison: Warwick's pretention was Just, and according to the Laws; Lincoln's was Illegal, obtained from one who had no Power to give it: and the more it was Questionable, the less was it to be Feared; for it was not likely that by the difference of Two disagreeing Pretendants, any One of the parties might by Concord be established. In which if he was deceived, it was not to his Prejudice. For Lincoln being fled (not without the knowledge and appointment of Sir Thomas Broughton) he went to his Aunt the Duchess, who after divers consultations, sent him into Ireland, accompanied by the Lord Lovel and other Fugitives, with a Regiment of Two thousand choice Dutchmen commanded by Martin Swart, a Valiant Captain. She thought this ready succour would produce many good effects; as the Confirming of the Rebels in their Obstinacy; the Securing the Counterfeit King in Possession, and the Encouraging of his Party in England, by making them Ready at their arrival to set upon Henry, to fight with him, and to put him to flight: for the Feigned Edward the Sixth was to be Held up, as long as need required, and not Yet to be cashiered, and the True Edward, which was in the Tower, put in his place. She had no thought at all of Lincoln in this business, knowing he had no Right of Pretence, unless she would have Seconded her brother Richard in his Declarations, to the Shame of her House, which she was very far from. The King, when he understood of his flight, was much perplexed; he saw, that, the Duchess having declared herself in the behalf of the Rebels, he must defend his Crown with the Sword. The first provisions he made, was to make the Seacoasts on that side be well guarded, to the end that Others might not follow Lincoln's example. He raised a Great Army, and divided it under Two Generals, the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Oxford; believing to be set upon at one and the same time, both from Ireland, and Flanders. And though he expected not this before the Spring, yet forbore he not to make a journey almost in the midst of Winter into Suffolk and Norfolk, to take order for necessary provisions. And understanding by the way, that marquis Dorset was coming to him, to clear himself of some imputation which was falsely laid upon him, he dispatched away the Earl of Oxford to meet him by the way, with order to carry him to the Tower, and to tell him, That this was not done for that he had Deserved it, or that the King had any Ill opinion of him, but to Free him from the Danger of being Persuaded to undertake any thing which might redound to his Prejudice; so as though he could not choose but think such a provision very Hard, he wished him to take it Patiently, promising him he should have Honourable and Satisfactory reparation. The King kept his Christmas at Norwich; and went from thence by way of Devotion to our Lady of Walsingham, and from thence returned by Cambridge to London. The Earl of Lincoln's arrival in Ireland, with so many good men with him, added to the Rebels hopes: they were very proud 1487 to see themselves favoured by the Duchess, by her sending of such ready Helps, and Two so great Lords, as were Lincoln and Lovel. At their coming, King Lambert was Crowned, being formerly but Proclaimed King. Being in Council, they differed in Opinions, whether the war were to be made in Ireland or England: Those who would have it made in Ireland, alleged for their reasons, That Henry being necessitated to pass over thither in Person, lest he might lose that Kingdom, he would meet with many disadvantages; amongst which the most Considerable would be, his giving way for the Faction of York to Spread itself, the which being already Great, would Increase and grow Greater in the Absence of the King, and such Forces as he must carry along with him; so as the Faction of Lancaster consequently growing Weaker, it would run danger of being Destroyed, and divers would be encouraged to Abandon it, who Already were prettily well Inclined so to do: which if it should fall out, he would be able to do but Little good in Ireland, since he would want Supplies, being likely to have None from England, which, peradventure, he might Lose. They were but Few that were of this opinion: for they wanted there all the chief Groundworks of War, strong Holds, Arms, Money and Soldiers; an Enemy could not be Stopped without strong Holds, nor Themselves Secured; without Money Soldiers were not to be had; nor could they encamp themselves in Open field without Arms. Reason persuaded to pass the Seas and make the war in England: Henry had done the same with Greater & Lesser company, and yet had had Good success; it was to be believed, that not having any One that sided with him in Ireland, he would have but Few in England; where, if the Greatest part were affectionate to the House of York, whilst they had No Head to follow, what would they when they should have a lawful King, attended on by a whole Kingdom? an agreement which would invite and encourage England to do the like. But all these arguments, though Sufficient, were not efficacious enough to make this resolution be taken: the only reason: which bare sway to have the war in England, was the Want of Money wherewithal to pay the Dutchmen, and their no hopes of Enriching themselves by fight in Ireland. The needier sort of people flocked to the beating of the Drum; those who had nothing but their Lives to lose, were contented to venture them upon hopes to better their fortunes in so Rich a Country. They embarked themselves better furnished with Hopes then with Weapons; and landed with Lambert, clad in kingly apparel, at the Pile of Fowdray in Lancashire; they were conducted by the Earls of Lincoln and Kildare, and Viscount Lovel, followed by the Dutchmen under Colonel Swart. Broughton met them at their landing, with but a few men: they marched towards York, and passed peaceably where they went, to show that Lawful Kings come to Ease, not to Oppress their Subjects: but shortly after, their hopes began to grow cool, when they saw not any one come in to them in their Solitary March; especially since they could not with more reason expect any to side with them in any Other Country then in that which was so much inclined to the House of York, and to Richard. But Viscount Lovel not having found any safety there the year before, they might believe, They were not now likely to far better. Some were of opinion, that the Alienation of those people proceeded from a Distaste they took that Two Foreign Nations, the Dutch and Irish, should pretend to present them with a King made by them: and though Henry the 4, and Edward the 4, and the Now-King had in the like manner been presented by Strangers, yet the case differed: They (the first and last) were called in by a Part of the Kingdom, to free them from the two Richards, the 2 and the 3, the One for divers reasons more hated than the Other; and Edward came of himself, building upon the People's Love: neither had Henry the 7 given any occasion of Hatred whereby to be driven out; rather the opinion of his Worth, and his having Matched with the House of York, had established him: moreover, the Procession made to Paul's, wherein the True Plantagenet was seen, made them not mind the False one. Lincoln being brought to that pass as he could not retire without ruin, resolved to perish generously by hazarding a Battle. He marched towards Newark, minding to make himself master thereof: but Henry, who at the first news of their landing, was advanced to Coventry, sent some Troops of Light-horse abroad to take Prisoners, that he might learn News: a superfluous diligence; for he had Spies amongst them, who advertised him of all their proceedings. Being come to Nottingham, a Counsel of War was held, wherein it was discussed where 'twere better to protract time, or to Fight: the King was for giving Battle, being encouraged by the access of 6000 fight men, most of them Voluntaries, under 70 Colours: the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Lord Strange were the chief Commanders; and that the enemy might not take the advantage of Newark, the King encamped himself between them and the Town. Lincoln, seeing himself so closely pursued, went to Stoke; planting himself upon the side of a little hill, from whence he descended assoon as the King presented him Battle: the which was valiantly fought on Both sides; but of the Manner how, there is but Small or very Obscure knowledge. 'Tis held, that of the King's Three battalions, the Vanguard only fought, & the other Two moved not at all; which seems the Stranger, for that having fought even to the Last man (the one Half of the said Vanguard being Slain) the King would purchase the Victory at so Dear a rate; which, if he would have suffered All his men to have fought, he might have had it better Cheap. All the Chief of the Enemy were slain; Lincoln, Kildare, Lovel, Broughton, and Colonel Swart: great slaughter was made of the unarmed Irish, who budged not one foot from the posture they put themselves in at the Beginning of the fight: the Dutch, who were well armed, and understood their work, died not unrevenged. The Conflict endured Three hours; not likely to have endured so Long, had the Main-battel and the Rearward fought. 'Tis said the L. Lovel sought to save himself; but finding the Banks of Trent too high for his horse, they were both drowned, as not able to clammer up. Others will have it that he got over the River, and that he lived a long time in a Cave. The King was displeased at the Earl of Lincoln's death, not that he Loved him, or out of desire of further Revenge; but that thereby he was bereft of the means of working out of him, what Correspondency the Duchess Margaret had in England. There died, Four thousand of the Enemy, the One Half of the King's Vanguard; and the Other half were work for the Surgeons: So roundly were they dealt withal. Not any one of Quality was slain on the King's side. They took many Prisoners: amongst which king Lambert Symnel, otherwise called Edward the Sixth, and Simond his Tutor and Seducer: 'twas thought he should have been rigorously proceeded against; but his years (he not being full Sixteen years Old) freed him from the Highest of faults. He confessed who he was and the Meanness of his Birth; that the fault proceeded from his Governor, whom he was not wont to disobey. His punishment was the Kitchen; where he was put to the vilest employments; his Sceptre and Crown were turned to Spits and Fireforks: he continued in the office of a Scullion, till by what means I know not, he was preferred to be one of the King's Falconers, in which condition he died; not giving any further occasion of Story. The King showed herein his Wisdom: for had he put him to Death being so Young, and for a fault not of his Own Choosing; Severity might have had the face of Cruelty, and Justice of Injustice; and together with his Life, his Memory would have been Lost: whereas, by Pardoning him, he gave life to a testimony of his Own Clemency, and Others Wickedness; and instructed the People upon other occasions. The being a Priest, saved Simond, though worthy of whatsoever punishment: the King was pleased to afford him Penitence and Penance; by giving him leave, during his Life, to bewail his sin in Prison. There is a great difference between Polydor Virgil's calculation of this Battle and that of Other Writers: he affirms it to have happened in the year 1489; the rest, in the year 1487, on the Sixteenth of june, on a Saturday, the day which was observed to be happy and propitious to the King. I follow the Later. The King went not from the Camp till he had given humble thanks to God for the Victory; the which he did likewise three days together at Lincoln; with Processions, and other religious duties; and he sent his Standard to our Lady's Church in Walsingham, whither he had vowed it. He caused some of those that were taken to be put to death; doing the like in Yorkshire, where diligent search was made after the Rebels: and since it would have been a kind of Cruelty, to have punished so Many for One fault; he was contented to commute the Blood of their Veins for the Blood of their Purses, imposing great Pecuniary punishments upon them, wherewith both He and They were satisfied. He went to Newcastle; from whence he sent Ambassadors to the King of Scotland, to invite him either to a Treaty of Peace, or to a longer Truce. His being but newly settled in his kingdom, and the Inveterateness of the Faction, counselled him to be at quiet with his Neighbours, especially with Scotland: for these two kingdoms being almost Naturally given to be Enemies, they did much harm one to another by fomenting Rebels, and nourishing of Seditions. Yet was this peace more requisite for King james then for Him. For being a friend to men of Mean condition, and an enemy to the Nobility, he never wanted cause of Fear; so as it behoved him to have Peace with England, that he might punish the Contumacious, and revenge himself upon his enemies. He therefore courteously received the Ambassadors, letting them know there was nothing which he in his heart more desired, then that which they came for; but that there would be great difficulty to make the Parliament condescend thereunto: for that there was an ancient Law which did inhibit Peace, lest the people, growing careless, through Idleness, and losing their natural vigour, which was conservable by the Use of Arms, might become Lazy; to the prejudice of the State: that therefore they must content themselves with a Truce for Six or Seven years; which being obtained, they might Renew from time to time, without much difficulty: for what concerned Himself, King Henry might assure himself he would Always be his friend: he entreated them howsoever, to keep secret his free Communication with them; otherwise they would ruin the business; for nothing would be granted which should be known they had desired of him. Henry was contented with a Truce of Seven years; which being obtained, he returned to London; where, being taught by the last events, that his hatred to the House of York had been the cause of all the disorders that had ensued, he prepared for the Coronation of his Wife; which was effected the Five and twentieth of November; which was in the Third year of his Reign, and almost Two years after he had married her. 'Twas generally believed this resolution proceeded from Any thing else rather than from goodwill, the affections wherewith we are born being as hard to be concealed, as to be laid aside. Neither is it to be marvelled at if Henry born during the time of Hatred and Civil wars, wherein he had lost his estate, and been kept Prisoner till he was Ten years old; carried Exile into Britanny; demanded from thence by Edward and Richard; granted and sold to the former; to the Second sold, but not granted; and saved, as it were by miracle, from the hands of Both of them: it is no marvel, I say, if the Remembrance of these things did confirm him in the abovesaid hatred, and that that Hatred was converted to his very Nature and Blood, against the Blood of those who had laid traps to Ensnare and to Destroy him. But neither did his memory fail him in what concerned Good Turns; for the cloud of Dangers and Suspicions being blown over, he set the marquis Dorset at liberty: and that he might know his imprisonment had proceeded from the Jealousies of the Times, and not from any Evil he had Done him, he suffered not those Ceremonies to be used to Him, which usually are to such as are imprisoned for any fault. His affairs being thus quieted, he dispatched away an Ambassador to Pope Innocent the Eighth to give him advertisement thereof, and to thank him for having honoured his Maariage with the assistance of his Nuntio, offering Himself and his Kingdom to be upon all occasions at his Service: for which the Pope, by way of correspondency, gratified him, by Moderating the Privileges of Sanctuaries, and other Privileged places; and by sending him a Bull; which was welcome and advantageous to him; for thereby Traitors became less bold. We have hitherto, spoken of the affairs Within the kingdom; we must now pass on to External businesses, to the which the King could not Before attend, being busied about Home-affairs which more concerned him. The designs of Lewis the Eleventh King of France, father to Charles' the Eighth who at this time reigned, were to establish himself within the limits of his own Kingdom, and such bounds as confined upon his kingdom, by readjoyning unto it whatsoever at sundry times had been dismembered from it, either by Appennages, or Otherwise; and to beat down the Authority of Princes and great Lords that hindered him in his design, which was to become Absolute: to bring this to effect, it was necessary for him to collogue with England (which was the only place able to disturb him) and prodigally to present it; whereby having laid it asleep as he desired, he reunited to the Crown the Dukedoms of Burgundy and Anjou, the Counties of Bar, and of Provence, together with all the best places of Piccardy. He intended to do the like to the Dukedom of Britanny, but not effecting it, he left the care thereof to his son Charles, who though very Young, did fully bring it to pass. For Peter de Landois, a proud and insolent Officer of the Duke of Britanny, having incensed the Nobility of the Duchy, and called in Lewis, Duke of Orleans, to his aid, by making Anne (the Eldest daughter and Heir to that State) be promised to him in Marriage by her Father; the Barons had recourse unto Charles, who being entered with Four several Armies, into Four several parts of their Country, made them too late perceive, that they had not called him in to Assist them, but to Destroy them. The Duke of Britanny, who knew his Forces too weak to withstand the King's, had recourse to Henry, to whom Charles had already sent Ambassadors to show him, That the chief Princes of the Blood and greatest Lords of his Kingdom being retired into Britanny (under pretence of Refuge, but in effect that being joined to that Duke, they might mischief Him the more) he was forced to take up Arms, and necessitated to war for his Own Defence, and to Prevent him that sought His ruin: that the war was Defensive on His side; that he pursued Rebels in a Prince's Country, who owing Homage to Him, ought not to have received them, and much less to have Conspired against him with them: wishing him to remember, that if the Duke of Britanny had done him any favour, he had marred the merit of it; since it failed on his part, that he might have been utterly ruined, by being delivered up to Richard: that he did not pretend to remember him of the Assistance and Favours he had received from Him, which were done out of mere Affection, and contrary to what Reason should have persuaded him to for his Own good; since it had been better for him, that a Tyrant, like Richard, should have reigned in England, then so virtuous a King as was he: That if he would rightly weigh both their good turns, he should find His proceeded from true Friendship; the Duke's, from Self-interest: That he did not desire a Requital of Assistance, knowing that he was but Newly possessed of the Kingdom, which he had purchased with great Expense and Trouble; but only that he would stand Neuter: That he would not, by aiding the Duke, hinder the just progress of hi●… Arms, justly to punish Rebels; and to give due correction to him that had, contrary to all Law, received them. He herewitha●… acquainted him with his having taken some certain Towns from the Archduke Philip in Flanders; affirming he had not done it out of any Illwill, but for that it behoved him a little to Quell him: the difference between them, for any thing else, being Little or Nothing, they being Neighbours, and he to marry his sister. He said this to dissuade Henry from believing that he made war in Britanny to Possess himself thereof; and to honest the Usurpation by Marrying the Heir, as he intended, and as he did: and to make him believe this the rather, he discovered unto him (as a business of great Trust) his designs upon the Kingdom of Naples; as if the attempt upon Naples, which was but an imagination in Future, were not compatible with his Present Real attempt upon Britanny. Henry was displeased at this Embassy, Two Princes being therein concerned, of which he knew not whether to prefer, being obliged to them Both, and equally favoured by them Both. He knew Charles did but Dissemble; that the injury he did the Duke was unjust, and hurtful for England: that France might peradventure have reason enough to be Offended with Britanny, but none to Subdue it: The danger was great: The Duke was Old, Sickly, and for the most part out of his Wits: He had no issue Male; Females, the weaker they are and Marriageable, the fitter are they to serve for an occasion of Oppressing the Country: The Nobility was Mistrustful; the People, wavering: He objected to himself, that the Duke having preserved Him so many years, against the Treacheries of so many Enemies, he was, in Honour, obliged to do the like for him; wherewithal it likewise became him to preserve the freedom of Commerce unto his Kingdom; which would be Lost, or much Lessened, should it fall into the hands of such a King, who if by reason of what he already possessed, he were of so great might as he became formid able to his neighbours, and those that lived further from him, what would his greatness become when it should be Augmented by the Addition of a Dukedom equal to a Kingdom, rich in Nobility, People, Seas, and Ports? But having been likewise Obliged to Charles, he could not (without the Badge of Ingratitude) treat him like an Enemy. To do then what he ought to do (which was not to Declare himself Against the One, nor Suffer the Other to be Undone) it behoved him to have Evident Reasons (should he do Otherwise) whereby it might Appear that he was Perforce induced thereunto. His Obligation being Equal, his duty of gratitude could not be Dispensed withal to Either of them: so as, desirous to carry himself Indifferent where Circumstances were Equal, as in his Obligations; it behoved him to do Otherwise, where Circumstances Differed, as in Interest of State, and Justice; Two ponderous weights, Both of which were put into the Duke's Scale. Having then answered the Ambassadors in matters of Lesser importance, as in the business of Flanders, he told them, He found himself bound in a Like bond of obligation to the King and to the Duke: That the cause of his flight from Britanny into France, was not from the Duke, but through the wickedness and malice of his Officer, Landois: He must confess he Oft hath owed his Life unto him, having had divers treacherous plots contrived against him by the corruption of his Servants; that He never failed him, neither in Will, nor Deed: So as finding himself in this condition with them Both, he hoped that his Interposing himself as a Friend between them, might produce that Peace which was to be desired; and to which end he would forthwith dispatch away an Ambassador to him. They being dismissed with this answer, he bent all his endeavours to work a Reconciliation between them, that he might not be Enforced to take up Arms; the which if against his will he Must do, he was resolved to employ them to Preserve Britanny: neither did he believe fortune would prove so favourable to Charles, but that He might have time to Negotiate this business, grounding his Confidence upon the great Oppositions he had; on the one side, Maximilian; on the other, the Forces of Britanny; and the Orleanists in the Bowels of his Kingdom ready to raise a Civil war, which he was not likely Quickly to quit his hands of: together with the Inconstancy of his Young years, able to make him Change his mind; especially he being environed with men of Mean condition, who rather make their fortunes in Court-changes, then in Chances of War. Upon these supposals (which proved all false) he sent his Chaplain Christopher Ursewick into France: he gave him order that if he found Charles disposed to Peace, he should instantly go to Britanny, and conclude it in the best manner he could. Ursewick came to France, where Charles made him believe he did passionately desire Peace, whilst he was far from it; he therefore passed on into Britanny, thinking he had done Half of his work; but he found he was deceived; for the young King handled the business with so much Subtlety, as he that had been longest Experienced and Versed in business, could not have done it better. He seemed to be very desirous of Peace, knowing that Ursewick's pains would be to no purpose; for the Duke of Britanny was not in case to rely upon his Own Judgement (having indeed None at all) and the Duke of Orleans would not hear of it; for being injured by him, it was not likely he should trust him. He on the other side, should by this means justify himself to Henry; since the making of peace stuck not at Him; so as he should not have any occasion to enterprise aught against Him, the fault (in all appearance) not being His. Ursewick being come to Britanny, found the Duke so very ill, as it was impossible for him to treat with him, who had lost almost all the faculties of judgement: it behoved him to treat with the Duke of Orleans, whom he acquainted with the King his Master's desire, and with the good inclination he found in the King of France thereunto; so as there remained nothing to establish a good Agreement, but to conclude upon the means, to every one's satisfaction. The Duke being far from any such thought, knowing that Charles his intention was other than he made show for, and he himself thirsting to make war with Another man's purse, and with the hopes of getting the Duchy of Britanny, answered, He wondered that so Wise a King as Henry would suffer himself to be overreached by so very Young a King as Charles: and that those reasons, to which he was bound by Honour and Gratitude, bore no sway with him: that he should do well to remember the Duke of Britanny had been in lieu of a Father t●… him, from his Childhood, till his promotion to the Crown; to the which (though Nature, Birth, and the Kingdom had played their parts) he had Never attained, had he not used that charity towards him, which obliged Henry to do the like for Him: that the present Mediation did not correspond with the business: that it was Destructive; but Useful for Charles; who thereby would gain time to do that which otherwise he could not: that Aid was expected from Henry worthy of the Greatness of his Mind, of his Tie of Friendship, and of the imminent Danger: the fair Appearances of France were nothing but Fraud and Cozenage; 'twould be too Late, Dangerous, and Dishonourable, to know it by the Event: that if Henry would believe Charles to be of as Candid a mind as was He himself, he might do well to believe it with his Sword in Hand; so that if it should prove Otherwise, he might be ready to Chastise him that had abused him: by doing this, he should acquit himself on All hands, nor could any one have just cause to complain of him: And if the reasons of Gratitude (which were the same with those of Honour) were not of force enough to persuade him, he ought to do it out of reason of State; and take upon him that defence in Time, without Offending Any One, which, should he undertake Unseasonably, would be offensive to All Three; to France, by opposing it in Open War; to Britanny, by giving it too Late succour; and to England, by permitting a Great King to Increase in Power, State, and Situation, hurtful to that Kingdom; who was set upon on all sides, subject to the discretion of England, upon whose pleasure he depended, having Seas, Ports, Commerce, and all that could accommodate, or incommodate; secure, or endanger England. Ursewick was ready to answer, That Princes could not choose but in some sort believe one another, especially where an Obliged friendship plays the part of a Surety; not that Wisdom may not have her Exceptions, but that she should too largely dispose of herself, if where there is Parity of Friendship, and Obligation, she should believe a friend to be what he ought not to be: that Henry's obligations to France arose from Britanny's failing him; which if it were not through any fault of the Duke, 'twas through the fault of Landois, Fortune, and Chance: 'Twas Chance, that when fleeing from England, he would have gone to France, brought him into Britanny: Fortune, when he would have stayed in Britanny, brought him into France; whither he would not have gone, nor have had any obligation to the King thereof, had it not been for danger of being sold to Richard by Landois: He did not accuse the Duke of this; but neither aught the Duke to accuse him, if Fortune bore him to Divide between Two, that obligation which was formerly due to Him alone: He could not but confess this without the mark of Ingratitude; neither could he take One of them into his consideration, and leave the Other neglected: More time was required to arm by Sea and Land, then to send an Embassy; the One did not hinder the Other: That an Ambassador served for a Soul to such businesses as were to be brought to Life; no resolutions of importance being taken between Prince and Prince, but by Mediation. But Ursewick not being suffered to say This, nor what more he would have said (for the Duke arose from him and would not hear him) he returned to Charles; who told him, He had rightly foretold that the Duke of Orleans would not, un-enforced, yield to any Pacification: that he would endeavour to force him to it, as his obstinacy required; in the mean time he desired Henry not to desist from doing good offices: for by continuation thereof that Peace would be effected which He desired; to which he, for his part, would Never be Averse: and that, under such conditions as Henry should prescribe him. Lewis, the father of this Prince, would never suffer this his son to be taught more Latin then Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare; wherein he so well profited, as not having his brains troubled with any Other lesson, and being thought by reason of his rough nature, to have but a blunt judgement, he deceived all men, especially Ursewick; whereby the King, his Master, was likewise deceived. Some think that Henry's credulity was but feigned, that he might have an Excuse not to intricate himself in a War he Hated, and which would be of great Trouble to him. But if he were not Deceived, he deceived Himself: for hoping it would be hard for Charles to make any Progress in this business (being unable at the same time to beat the Forces of Britanny, and Orleans his party) it proved clean Otherwise. The French Army being entered Britanny, and brought in by the confederate Barons, made them soon repent it. The Articles 'greed upon between them were instantly broken; Cities besieged, taken and Sacked; no difference being put between the grounds and territories of the Confederate, and Not confederate: whilst the Duke, abandoned by his Subjects, and not assisted by his friends, escaped narrowly being taken at Vannes, from whence with much ado he got to Nantes; where being besieged and destitute of hope, he sent the Count of Dunois and Viscount Coteman, to get aid from England: who having ridden by night thorough Forests and desert places in great danger, the Country being wholly possessed by the Enemy, got to S. Malo; where they unluckily put four times to Sea, and were as often driven back; so as they gave over their employment, believing the succour they went for would come too Late, and that therefore they must look for some from Elsewhere; but it was more than needed: For the Frenchmen, despairing to win the Town, gave over the Siege. Charles whilst he besieged Nantes, had sent Bernard of Aubeny into 1488 England to re-assure the King of his desire of Peace: and he either believing it, or seeming so to do, named the Abbot of Abington, Sir Richard Tunsdal, and the former Ursewick, his Commissioners, to treat thereof; giving them full Authority, though the circumstances afforded little hope. Which Edward Woodvile, Uncle to the Queen, a gallant Gentleman, perceiving, he desired leave to go to assist the Duke with a Troop of Volunteers, with which he would Privately steal over, so as the King of France should have occasion to complain of none but of Him. It is not known whether the King did Privately give way thereunto or no, but in Public he denied his request, charging him not to depart from Court: notwithstanding he went to the Isle of Wight, where of he was Governor, and raised there Four hundred fight men, with which he sailed into Britanny; causing thereby such an alteration among those of the Court of France, as the Commissioners would have been evilly entreated, had not Charles (whose conscience accused him) seemed to believe that Woodvile was come of his Own head, since the Reputation of England, and the Need of Britanny required Other manner of aid then Four hundred men. The Commissioners having discovered his mind, returned to England, and acquainted the King, that Charles his desire of Peace was but counterfeit, the better to gain time, and to make him lose the opportunity of hindering him from the Usurpation of Britanny. Whereupon Henry resolved to Call a Parliament; wherein succour being resolved upon, he raised Moneys and mustered Soldiers, sending word to Charles, that his Kingdom liked not this war with Britanny made by him; there having always been an uninterrupted Friendship between that Duchy and England; wherefore they could not now abandon it, since their Own commodity was concerned in the Loss thereof: that He therefore could not oppose his People, as Charles' himself might judge: that he thought good to give him Notice hereof, as well to the end that his Moving or Marching might not be News unto him, as likewise to entreat him that he would take away the Cause of his so doing; which if he would not, he assured him that his succour should only tend to the Defence of Britanny; from whence if the French would withdraw themselves, they should not be Pursued by his men, nor fought withal, Out of Britanny: so as their Friendship was not to go Less in the said War. The Ambassadors arrived when Charles had brought the business to such a pass, as he needed not greatly weigh the Late resolutions of England; having received news of the surrender of Ancenis, Fougeres, Saint Aibine di Cormier, and not long after, that the Armies had met, and that the Britons were discomfited. The Frenchmen thought that the Duke's Army would bend themselves for the Recovery of Saint Albine; as they did: whereupon following them, and coming up to them not far from thence, they fought with them, and had the Victory: they slew the Four hundred English, with Woodvile their Commander; took the Duke of Orleans, and the Prince of Orange, prisoners; who would not have purchased their Liberties at so Cheap a rate as they did, had it not been for their Wives; (Orleans his wife being the King's sister, and Orange's wife sister to the Duke of Bourbon) for after divers Removals from one prison to another, they, by the Intercession of their Wives, obtained Liberty and Pardon. Henry, understanding of this defeat, sent Eight thousand fight men into Britanny under the Conduct of the Lord Brook, which joining themselves with the Duke's Forces, marched towards the Enemy, who knowing they loved not to Encamp themselves, but to come to Blows, thought to cool their heat by Entrenching their Army, and sallying out with their Light-horse; which they did; but with more Loss than Gain. This mean while Francis the Second, Duke of Britanny, died, leaving Two Daughters behind him; the younger whereof died not many months after, and left the Inheritance wholly to Anne: but the subversion of her State was caused by her father's death. A month before this, the Duke was constrained to Compound with Charles, and subscribe to the Articles of Agreement, remitting the Difference to Arbitratours. Charles pretended to this Dukedom out of Two reasons: by the pretences of john de Brosse and Nicholas of Britanny, which were yielded up to his father Lewis the Eleventh; and by the rights of the Viscount of Rohan, descended from Mary of Britanny, sister to Margaret, the first wife of Francis the Second, the which right or claim the said Viscount had surrendered up to this Charles: and these Two sisters, being Daughters to Francis the First, would in succession have preceded Peter the Second, Arthur, and Francis the Second, had not Women been excluded from men of Name and Coat of Britanny, as were the Three abovenamed. The which being then brought into question, made the dispute more intricate; though it should not so have done: for the Former Two's grant was annulled in the Abbey de Victoire, by a Treaty made with Lewis himself: and the Viscount Rohan's relinquishment (made by him, not that he believed he had any Right thereunto, but to please Charles) was of no Validity, since he descended from Women, and the Nullification of such pretences appeared in his Contract of Marriage, in the Wills of the Dukes, and in the Decrees of the State of Britanny. Reasons which though they were all of force enough, yet were they not able to weigh against the force of the Weaker; for the weakest pretences are sufficient, so they have power enough to prove their right by force. The King was Young, and every one about him pretended to get an Armful of Wood by the fall of this Tree; the Sister, for her part had already, in her conceit, devoured the City of Nantes: the Britons, who were Partakers, pretended to participate therein; whilst the rest that saw their fortunes and welfare depend upon the Weakness of an abandoned Orphan Maiden, and under the Sword of a Powerful King, resolved to Declare themselves for him, before they were by force Constrained so to do. Whereupon the English, not able to Save what ran to so Headlong a Ruin, returned into England, after they had spent Eight months in Britanny, and done nothing. The Parliament had given certain Subsidies for the payment of these men; which were readily paid by all the Shires save Yorkshire and the Bishopric of Durham; which Two Counties flatly denied to pay any. They alleged that they had suffered great grievances the Last years past; and for the Present they had not backs to bear any More. This contempt proceeded from the Love they bore to the House of York, and their Hatred to the present King. The Commissioners for the Assessing and Gathering of the Subsidies wanting means whereby to enforce them, knew not what to do; for all and every one of these Two Counties agreed in a joined Negative to the Parliament's Decree. They went to advise about it with the Earl of Northumberland, who wrote thereof unto the King; and received answer, That the Subsidies were given by Parliament, and paid by all the rest of the Kingdom; and that he would have them of Them, without the Abatement of one Penny. The Earl, call together the prime Gentlemen of the Country, acquainted them with the King's answer; who believing he had framed it of his Own head, broke into his house, and slew him, together with many of his Servants. This being done, they chose Sir john Egremond for their Head; and appointed john à Chamber to him for Counsellor; both which were Seditious men. Their conceit was to meet the King, and give him Battle in defence of their Liberties; the which the King understanding, he commanded Thomas, Earl of Surrey (lately before taken out of the Tower) to compel them; which he did by Discomfiting them, and taking à Chamber prisoner. Egremont fled into Flanders to the Duchess Margaret; à Chamber was hanged upon a high Gallows at York; and some others of the Chiefest of them, were hanged round about him, but somewhat Lower. This was the end of this Rebellion. james the Third, King of Scotland, and friend to Henry, died this year; who was brought to a miserable Period, rather by evil Counsel, then evil Nature. He had naturally good inclinations, but they were poisoned by the practice of a kind of people which hath always been Ominous and Pestilential to Princes: an inconvenience which always hath been and will be whilst the World lasts. His thirst after Absolute Sovereignty, was as great as is the thirst of one sick of a Burning Fever, not to be quenched by all the water of Nilus. He valued not Legal authority, but sought for that which was not permitted by the Constitutions nor Laws of the Kingdom: His ruin arose from hating Liberty in such as gave him Good Counsel: and in loving Flattery in those who advised him Ill; the which they did, not to incur the danger of his Disfavour: and so made him fall upon his Own Ruin. Amongst the chiefest of his injuries to his Nobility, was his breach of Faith; so as they not believing any more in him, nor trusting him, there ensued a Rebellion; and wanting a Head for a business of so great Consequence, they thought to make use of the Prince, a Youth of about Fifteen years of Age; and under the shadow of the Son, to send the Father to eternal Darkness: but the Prince being endued with much Worth, would not accept so detestable a Charge: whereupon they made him believe they would give themselves up to England, deprive him of his Birthright, and possibly of his Life: so as, thus threatened, he gave way to their Will. james, this mean while, having made means to Pope Innocent the Eighth, and to his Two Neighbour-Kings of England and France, might have been succoured all in good time, had he had patience to expect them in the Castle of Edinburgh, a safe place: but he judging Strivelin to be a more convenient place to receive those in, whom he enpected from the Northern parts of his Kingdom, was in going thither, fought withal, and beaten; whereupon retiring to a Water Mill, with intention to save himself in certain Ships, which were not far off, he was miserably slain: and james the Fourth, his Son, by way of Penance girt himself with a Chain of Iron, to which he added one Link every year as long as he lived. Pope Innocent had dispatched away Adrian de Corneto, upon this occasion for Scotland, a man of noble conditions, who came to London Two days before the news of this unfortunate accident: he thought presently to have returned; but was detained by the King enamoured of his good parts, which were by Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, commended unto him. Neither were they any whit deceived; for being a man greatly Experienced in the affairs of the world, to boot with his Learning (Polydore gives him the attribute of the Restorer of the Latin tongue, and the most Eloquent next Cicero) he came to the highest degrees of Preferment. The King gave him the Bishopric of Hereford; which he refusing, he gave him that of Bath and Wells, and made use of him in all his businesses depending at Rome: which made him (being promoted to be a Cardinal) acknowledge his favours, and give him continual Advertisements of the affairs of Italy. This man afterwards through ambition of being Pope, ruined his Honour, his Fortune and Himself: it being verified in Him, that Learning is unprofitable if the End thereof be not how to lead a good life. The reason of his ruin was, that Cardinal Alphonso Petrucchio, having together with certain other Cardinals, his Confederates, plotted the death of Pope Leo the Tenth, there were Three that were not Of this Confederacy, but Knew of it; Riario, Soderini, and this Adrian: who not meddling in the business, did notwithstanding Wish it might take Effect; for each of them aspired to be Pope. Paulus jovius relating the causes which made Riario and Soderini hate the Pope, when he comes to speak of Adrian, says: But Adrian, not moved by Hatred, but by a vain Desire of Rule, wished Leo's death because he had conceived a hope to be Pope by reason of the words of a Woman-Soothsayer; who having long before this (being asked by him) told him many things touching his Own fortune, and the Public affairs of the World; told him for a truth, that if Pope Leo should die an unnatural death, an old man called Adrian, should succeed him, famous for his Learning, who building only upon Virtue, had without any Help from his Ancestors, gotten the highest Ecclesiastical preferments: and it seemed all this was found in Him. For being born at Corneto a poor Village in Toscany, of mean mechanical parentage, he by his Learning had arrived at all the preferment of Holy Orders. Neither did the Old woman foretell a Falsehood: for one Adrian an old Dutchman, son to a poor Artificer, famous for his Learning, was by much good fortune, made Pope after Leo. And a while after he says; Soderini by voluntary Exile withdrew himself to the Territories of Fondi; but Adrian being fearful and suspicious, not trusting to Leo's clemency, went from Rome in a Countrey-fellow's habit; and not being pursued by any, changed from place to place, still seeking to hide himself, till he died. And Guicchiardine speaking more clearly of him, says; Adrian and Volterra were not any ways troubled, save only that they underhand paid certain sums of money: but neither of them daring to trust their Safeties in Rome, as neither did it become their Dignities; Volterra with leave from the Pope went to Fondi, where he stayed till the Pope's death, under the protection of Prospero Colonna: As for Adrian, he privately stole away, it never being known what became of him. I was desirous to relate the entire History of this great man, for our instruction: for Two distinct species of ambition are therein comprehended; the one Praiseworthy, the other Not: which may be compared to Two Horses; the Praiseworthy is like a stately well-managed horse, which in due time doth all things by obeying the hand: the other like a hare-brained ill-ridden horse. Adrian rid both these: the first brought him Safely and without Danger to his old age; the second overthrew him, and lost him to the world. A rare example, and unparallelled in a man of so much Worth: for to perish and die in Persecution, is that which at all times befalls Many; but I have not heard of Any man that perished and for Fear of death Died, whilst Alive, save this alone. The affairs of Britanny after Duke Francisco's death were so encumbered, as no good was to be expected. The Duchess was Young, her governor's Unfaithful, the greatest part and best of the Barons Alienated, the Others upon designs respecting their Particular interests; and the State as it was by many pretended unto by Marriage, so was it by many Practised upon. The father had, at sundry times, promised the now-Dutchesse his daughter to Three several men: first, to Maximilian, who lost her through Negligence: after, to the Duke of Orleans (though he were married) who lost her, by being taken Prisoner: lastly, to Albert, who had her not because She would not have Him. But Charles, a tacit pretender, got her; who seemed not, till long after her father's death, to have any intention toward her. Her first inclinations were to Maximilian, to whom she was solemnly promised; her second, to Orleans, she being made believe that his First marriage was Invalid. She abhorred Charles as an Enemy and Perturber of her quiet, and the Destroyer of her State: a natural Antipathy, or rather Ambition to be Queen of the Romans, made her not regard Albert. Honour and Title are able to do much; and Albert, though he was very Noble and not a Subject, yet was he Vassal to the Crown of France. He was descended by the Mother's side from the House of Britanny. Margaret daughter to john the Fifth, wife to Alaine the Ninth Viscount of Rohan, had Three daughters, the Second whereof was Mother to this man, surnamed the Great Alaine: the Eldest was married into the House of Rieulx; and the Youngest to john of Orleans, Count d' Angoulesme, who was father to Francis the first, King of France. Duke Francis had offered him his daughter upon hopes of great succour; which proved but Small and Tardy: for he judging it necessary to interest Ferdinand and Isabel in this war, to the end they might not annoy his son the King of Navarre, (they being offended that in the marriage of the Queen, he was preferred before the Prince of Castille, for whom they would have had her) he went to them to Valencia; and complaining that Charles had seized on his State for having brought the interest of his son to the Crown of Navarre, against the Viscount of Narbonne, whom Charles favoured; he desired them to take him into their protection, and together with Him the aforesaid King; as likewise the Dukes of Orleans and Britanny, to defend them from the violence of such as abused the Authority of the King of France: offering in their names to cause the Territories of Rossillion and of Cerdagna, which john the King of Arragon had pawned to Lewis the Eleventh, to be restored to Catalonia. Having obtained what he demanded, and moreover certain Troops under the Command of Gralla, the Steward of their House, he returned to Guascoigne; and joining these Forces to his (which all together made about Four thousand men) he would not pass the River Garonne till the promise of Marriage was confirmed unto him: which if it had been done, the Reward had much exceeded the Service; the promise being made, with intent to have Forces able to Repulse the enemy, which he had not. whereupon Henry, considering that the King of France was likely by this Marriage to make himself master of Britanny, unless he should meet with some great obstacle, he counselled Maximilian to pursue it again; since, Orleans being excluded, Albert refused, and Charles (who seemed not to pretend thereunto, being already married) not likely to get her, His hopes might be good. There was none that more molested the Orphan Princess, than did her Governor the Marshal of Rieulx; for quitting his Obedience, to Force her to marry Albert, he had put the remainder of her estate, not yet possessed by the French, in confusion. But she (resolved rather to take a Cloister then to marry Him) sent into Flanders to Maximilian, and to Ferdinand of Spain for succour: she sent at the same time to Henry of England, who sent her the Eight thousand men; whilst Maximilian not able to pursue the Match, was less able to Succour her. For the Dutch had so shut him up, as he was not able to help Himself, much less to assist Her. His wife had left him Two children, Philip and Margaret: the inhabitants of Gaunt and Bruges had taken them from him; and had given Four Tutors of Their ordaining to Philip, and married Margaret, an Infant of Three years old, to Charles, during the life of his father Lewis the Eleventh: and contrary to all reason of good Government, they cut off Artois and the French County from the States of the Low-countrieses, and gave them in Portion with her: they likewise kept him Prisoner a long time; and granted him not his Liberty till he had Sworn to Pardon all Offences, and Never to take Revenge for them. And though his father the Emperor (not liking so Unworthy agreements) came to his Succour; yet did he not at all help him: for he returned to Germany, not having done any thing but irritated the more those people (of whom Monsieur de Ravestein had made himself Head, backed by the Governor of Piccardy, who went immediately to besiege Desmunde) and left him in case hardly able to Defend Himself, much less to Assist Others. But Henry not willing to Break with France, nor yet to let Flanders be lost; sent the Lord Morley to Monsieur Dawbeny, Governor of Calais with One thousand men, under pretence of a Supply for the Garrison on that side the Sea; but with secret order to succour Desmunde; the which he so well obeyed, that to those Thousand another Thousand being added, which he drew from the Garrison of Hams in Guisnes, he passed over the water of Gravelling by night, and got into Newport; where augmenting his Forces with Six hundred Germans which he found there, and led by a trusty guide into Desmunde, the Enemy (which lay on the other side) not perceiving it: he set upon them unawares, and was victorious; slew Eight thousand, and got all their Artillery and Baggage. The cause of so great slaughter, was this; Morley being the only man who amongst so many fought on Horseback, was unhorsed and slain; whereat his men were so enraged, that they slew their Prisoners, and together with them, all those that could not flee away: not above Two hundred of Them being slain. Monsieur Daubeny returned to Calais, having left his wounded men and the booty at Newport; affording thereby a thought of Recovering it to Monsieur Cordes who was at Ypre: he brought Twenty thousand men with him thither; played upon the Town, and gave an Assault. The Defendants did their parts Manfully, and were helped by such as were left Wounded there: after a long fight, they lost one Tower upon which Cordes planted the French Colours; and was likely to have won all the Rest, had not Fortune disfavoured him at that very Instant, by a Small Succour which entered the Town from Calais: for Dawbeny knowing the slenderness of the Garrison, had embarked Fourscore chosen Soldiers to Abet them, till such time as he might send Greater Forces to Free them Altogether. These men arriving in the Heat of the fight, whilst the Defeudants fought out of Mere Courage (for New wounds being added to what they had Formerly received, they could scarcely stand upon their legs) they ran to the Walls, drove back the Besiegers, regained the Tower, and this with such Forward Valour, as Cordes believing them to be a much Greater number, raised the Siege: whereupon this Personal Disgrace added to his former National Hatred, he swore, He would be content to be Seven years in Hell, so he might have the fortune to take Calais from the English. Henry, not contented to have assisted Maximilian with Arms, endeavoured to do the like with Counsel: he persuaded him to reassume the business of the Marriage, and to Conclude it with the Duchess, as hath been said. Which counsel he presently embraced, and sent Four Ambassadors to her, to whom he gave the Count de Nassau for their Chrief, with Commission, that when all things were agreed upon, the Count should marry her in His name, as he did; and used therein a Ceremony not accustomed in those times for aught I know: The Duchess being laid in her Bed, the Count (in the presence of many Lords and Ladies) put one of his Legs between the Sheets in sign of Consummation of the Marriage, holding, all the while, Maximilians Proxy in his hand. Belforest denies this Marriage by Proxy; and to boot with the reasons he alleadges for his opinion, one chief one is, That if it had been so, the Annals of Britanny would have made some Mention of it: I confess I have not read Them, nor do I know the Author's name: I have read Argentres, the last who hath written thereof, and he alleadges for his Testimony the Records of that Country: he says, That the Duchess after this Marriage assumed the title of Queen, and that the public Acts and Proclamations were made in the Names of Maximilian and Anne by the Grace of God, King and Queen of the Romans, Duke and Duchess of Britanny. But Maximilian did not pursue this his advantage with requisite effects; for believing he had so Consummated this Marriage as it could not be Broken, he neglected the sending of Aid into Britanny: so as leaving it to Fortune, which favours the Provident, it did frown upon Him, who Negligent in his affairs, did not almost ever do any thing, which, though it might Begin well, had a good End. He was endued with very Excellent qualities; but abounding with Bad ones likewise, by which his good parts being born down, all his undertake proved, for the most part, unfortunate. His Valour, Knowledge in Military affairs, and his good Understanding in matters of Counsel, became un-useful to him through his ill Government. He never raised Moneys for making of a War, but that he had Spent them before the War was Begun: he was one of those that can tell how to Propound, but not how to put in Execution: wise in Discourse, foolish in Action: so as if it had been possible to have furnished him with one to have Executed his Projections, nothing had remained to have been desired in him. I have sometimes thought it impossible, that the understanding Conceiving aright, should work Evil Effects; and that it being our Director, it should not be of force enough to make our Actions conformable to those Ideas upon which they depend: but daily practice shows me I was in an Error. He than not having done what he ought to have done, Charles 1490 believed it behoved him to do what became him: wherefore Charles betook himself to a double remedy: To the Duchess, in Countermining her Marriage with Maximilian, by endeavouring to marry her Himself; for so he was advised to do by those who bore the greatest sway with him: and to Henry, by sending Ambassadors to him, who were Francis Lord of Luxenburgh, Charles de Marignan, and Roger Gaguine the Writer of the French Story. Their Instructions were to treat a League or Peace with him; which was desired by him, not that he (Charles) might the more securely turn his Forces upon Italy, but out of an Affection that he bore unto him (Henry) from the first day he saw him, either out of Natural Sympathy, or Heavenly Constellation: He knew there was no Enmity between them, but that the casual encounters of their Subjects in Flanders, and in Britanny, did require a Confirmation thereof: that he did not accuse his actions in this behalf, it being a thing certain, that Frontire-wars draw Princes to them, as Wounds do Humours; so as such effects being Natural, they ought not to be esteemed the motives of Illwill: that for such he esteemed them, and so interpreted them; wherefore he likewise desired to be excused; for if he had made war upon Britanny, 'twas for that his Honour, and the Preservation of his due Prerogative, would not suffer him to do otherwise: and if upon Flanders, still out of the same considerations; because those of Flanders, being under the Sovereign Protection of France, oppressed by their Prince, and fleeing to Him for Succour, he could not choose but assist them: and though the casual encounters of the French and English Nations, had not thereupon raised a Formal War, yet a Consolidation of Friendship between those Two Nations was requisite, to the end that when he should have turned his Arms elsewhere, the World might not rest in doubt of it: that he would acquaint him with his more Secret designs, as an Earnest of the Confidence he would always use with him; that his intention was not to conquer the Kingdom of Naples, a Kingdom which of right belonged to him; and that from thence (by God's assistance) he would pass into Turkey and wage war with those Infidels; a thought worthy to be favoured by all Christian Princes, much more by a Christian King, and a Friend, as was Henry: and for that the war with Britanny might move some jealousies in him, the true Reasons whereof not being known, he gave him to understand, that, that Country being Feudatary to him, it became him in his reputation to preserve his rights therein; amongst which one was, that the Heir could not marry without his Consent: that the Duchess having done otherwise, in freely disposing of herself without the Consent of Him her Sovereign, it behoved him (with his good leave) to match her so as might not be prejudicial to his Crown; to the which he hoped He would give way, as to a thing becoming the reason of State and Justice. Henry, perceiving that the King of France would have him swallow up a bitter Pill wrapped up in Leaf-gold, caused answer to be made to the Ambassadors, That Peace ought not to be treated of thereby to make War upon one's Friends; that to Demand it was Unjust, Most unjust to Grant it: He had too much of interest with Britanny, to abandon it: That the proceedings held by Charles, were not like those of a Lord, who intends to keep his right of Fee-farm; but like those of an Enemy, which intends Usurpation: That his Correction (say it were just and necessary) needed not to be imposed by so Unjust means, and such Unnecessary Arms against a Maiden: That he did not dispute whether it were Charles his Right to marry her as he pleased or no; though he thought few Precedents could be given thereof: That Britanny's tenure in Fee was not subject to the Justice, Laws and Will of the Lord thereof, as were Other Common tenors: That Gascoigne and Normandy, in Former times, and Flanders, at the Present, were not under so Servile a Subjection: but say they were; Marriages ought to be Free, not made by Force, the parties not Constrained; otherwise they would be against the Laws, both Humane and Divine: and suppose his disposal of her did not contradict the Laws, it might yet be averse to the interest of Other Princes; who, peradventure, might be content he should marry her to some Other, and not unto Himself. As for Flanders; he wondered so Wise a King as Charles, should use such slight Arguments in so weighty a matter; that he should term the Oppression of the Prince, the People's Oppression; the Rebellion of the One, the Injustice of the Other: that after having so many months detained him prisoner, slain his servants, bereft him of his Son, and injuriously put him under their own Government, they should pretend by Injuring to be injured; being protected and confirmed in their Rebellion by Charles himself: A thing which had not formerly happened, and which now fell out opposite to the Interest and Dignity of All Princes; for in time that might happen to Each of them, which now befell This; so as all Princes were bound upon such like occasions reciprocally to Help one another; the which if it became Others, much more did it become Charles, who being Sovereign, aught to chastise Rebellion in the people; not to Authorise and Nourish it: He thanked him for his acquainting him with his Secret designs; which were So secret, as not only Italy, but the whole World knew of them: For his ends of Passing into Macedonia to make war upon the Turks, they were not only Christian, but Generous; so as if in stead of his demanding Peace, he would grant his request in accepting of Him for a Companion in so holy an Enterprise, he should think himself happy: but that his arguments were of too Repugnant a Construction; God did not command Evil to be done that Good might come thereof, nor that what is offered on His Altars should be taken from Another's flock: Yet if he thought he might with Justice, set upon the Kingdom of Naples, and that his pretended right thereunto was good, merely by the Renunciation of the House of Anjou; what might He think of himself, that was bereft of Normandy, Anjou, Gascoigne, and All France (which falling upon his person by natural Inheritance; not by Another's Renounsal, was his Legal Patrimony) if, being instructed by him, He should not do the like? He would therefore follow his example, and run the same career he had traced out to him: Therefore if he would have Peace, he might have it upon condition, either that he would Renounce that which by an unjust title he Possessed, or else pay such a Tribute as might be proportionable to what he should hold. The Ambassadors, not expecting such an Answer, said, They had no Commission to any such purpose; but that they were sure their King's Sword was able to defend his Crown from losing any the least of his Flower-de-luces': that for what concerned his marriage with the Duchess, he never had any such Thought, being already married to Maximilians daughter. To which the King replied, He looked for such an Answer; and that he would send Ambassadors to him, the better to be satisfied therein: whereupon he dismissed them; and Gaguine stayed in England till he had dispatched Thomas Earl of Ormond, and Thomas Goldenstone Prior of Christs-Church in Canterbury, Ambassadors into France for that purpose. Charles this mean while, laboured to remove from the Duchess Ann: all scruples and detestations which withheld her from taking him for her husband. He employed people of all conditions; Divines, Ladies, Lords, Counselors, and all such as had access unto her. The Duke of Orleans, and the Prince of Orange, newly freed from their imprisonment, pleaded for him; so did the Count Dunois, who after Orleans was ta'en prisoner, turned again to the King's party. The Marshal de Rieux, Chancellor Mountalban, the Ladies and Gentlewomen that were familiar with her, and almost the whole Counsel were his instruments herein: Madame de Laval her Governess and Lady of Honour took more pains herein then All the rest. Much ado there was to persuade the Duchess to forget how unworthily she had been dealt withal for Three years together; how the Agreements made with the Duke her father, and after with herself, had never been observed; that Charles had destroyed and sacked her Country; that he was married to the Daughter of the King of the Romans, and the King of the Romans married to Her: So that if the Divines were troubled to remove from her her Scruples of Conscience, Madame de Laval was no less troubled to rid her of the Hatred she had conceived against his Person. She at the last yielded thereunto upon the remonstrance of Peace, the Necessity of embracing it, and that there was no other way to compose it then by this Marriage; Maximilian being Far off, and reduced to such Poverty, as in a time of so great need, he could assist her with but Two thousand men: Charles on the contrary was Near at hand, Powerful, and not likely to give over, till he had bereft her of her Country, and brought her to Poverty and Misery; the which if it should so fall out, Maximilian would no longer care for her; whose end was to possess himself of Britanny, and not barely of her Person: that Promises of Marriage, yea, Marriage itself, were to be dispensed withal in cases of Necessity: that the Pope would not be found difficult herein, since Blood, War, and Desolation would otherwise ensue, which by Peace might be prevented; and Peace was to be had only by this Marriage: that Maximilians daughter was no impediment, since she was not of Years either to Consent or Dissent: For her Marriage with Maximilians Self, though Promised, yet was it not Consummated; the Solemnities used therein were mere Ceremonies invented to dazzle the World; they not being valid by whatsoever Law either Canon or Civil: And if nothing else would prevail with her, the Preservation of her State, her's and Charles his Proportionable Youth and Years, and her being to be the Chief Queen of the World, ought persuade her. Weary at last with so many Onsets, she gave way, though not yet freed of the Scruple of her Promise-breach to Maximilian; but he being accused of having failed in his Duty, and of not having kept any one whosoever near her (which he would not have done to the meanest Princess alive) she was likewise quitted of That. The Ambassadors which were sent to Charles being come to Calais, met with the Bishop of Concordia, sent from the Pope to reconcile the Two Kings; for through the molestation of their Wars, Christendom was in great danger of the Turks, who made daily further progress thereinto. The Bishop having dispatched his affairs with Charles (who feigned a willingness to Peace) came to England, where he did nothing; for the Marriage with Britanny being published, the Treaty was broken off, and each King sent for his Ambassador's home. Henry not in honour able to suffer any longer dissimulation, and being by Maximilian promised strong succours from the King of Spain, called a Parliament, and there propounded war with France; not to be made any more by Deputies, as was the war of Britanny, but by Himself in Person, to recover those Provinces lost under Henry the Sixth, against a Prince who for his Pride, and for his pretending over every one, was unworthy of All men's Friendship; since having possessed himself of Britanny by Force and Fraud, and maintained the Rebels in Flanders against their Prince, he pretended now to bring Italy to his Subjection; that he might aftewards trouble all the Princes of Christendom: honesting his thirst after Rule, and his conceived Usurpation of the Kingdom of Naples, by saying he did it with an intent to carry his Arms against the Infidels on the other side of the Adriatic Sea: he told them it would be dangerous to let him advance so much; for that England being already girt about with Piccardy, Normandy, and this new purchase of Britanny, it would be easy for him to molest her; if suffering herself to be Flattered as hitherto she had done, she should be abused, as she had been: that the French forces were not unknown to the English; as had been witnessed by their Battles, Victories, and the Imprisonment of one of the French Kings: and if the English had at last had unhappy success, 'twas not be attributed to Their Valour, but to Civil Dissension, which like tempestous Hail, had beaten down the Fruit, upon the very point of Ripening: that his claim to that Kingdom was manifest: that Fortune did second Justice, and Valour accompany her: that Their generous resolution would serve for an Invitation, and an Example unto Others; to Flanders, and Spain, for their Own Interests; and to Britanny, for that being won more by Corruption then by Arms, there wanted not such as were evilly affected; the People were discontented, and the greatest part of the Nobility not willing to subject themselves to a Prince whom they abhorred: the Pope would join with them; for detesting to have Italy molested, Diversion was that which would free him from Danger: All which were thus presented not as the Groundwork, but as the Adherences of an Enterprise which was not to be resolved on, upon hopes of Assistance from Others: that England was of itself sufficient; neither did it stand in need of any other Forces then her Own; it being to be supposed that by the Death of those Ancient warriors, the natural courage of those which Descended from them was not extinct, but that they would make it appear to the world they did not degenerate from their Predecessors: and though Honour have no reward worthy of herself but Herself, yet it was to be considered that this was a War to be made in a Country full of whatsoever Nature did afford; sufficient to maintain the Public expense; to adorn the Nobility with Lordships, Virtue with Employments, and to satisfy the Soldier with Booty and Riches: Riches which were to be shared out by sundry ways (as is the Blood from Vein to Vein) to England in general: and that those who for the present should contribute towards it, were to enjoy in the future, abundant Increase for what they should Now part withal: that the war was to be made, not as at the First, at the expense of the Kingdom, but at the cost of such Cities and Provinces as they should Conquer; it had been done so Formerly, and should be so Now: so as they that would contribute towards it, he wished they might do it Readily; for he was resolved not to have any thing from the Poorer sort, but from such as without any incommodity might expect the Re-imbursing of their Moneys. The War with France was with much cheerfulness approved of in Parliament: They thought the Honour of the King and Kingdom had suffered somewhat in the Loss of Britanny. But the King's intentions were not such as he made show of: he knew Maximilians Forces were not to be built upon, nor yet those of Ferdinand; for the Wars of Granada had exhausted his Coffers; and the recovery of Rossillion without Cost (which he aspired unto) was not to be effected by fight with Charles, but with Seconding him. He knew moreover the constitution of France was not Now as it had been Formerly; when divided into Two Factions, it made way for the advancing of the English Forces: it was now United; the Burgundian Faction was fallen to the ground, and the Orleanists depended upon the Regal authority; that she hath now brought herself to a custom of encamping Leisurely, and to fight no more with Violence, but upon Advice; so as he should Weary his people, Weaken his Forces, and Impoverish his Kingdom. Feigning notwithstanding the contrary, he seemed to Desire, what he Detested: he so wisely fitted himself for what might happen, as satisfying his Honour with the Appearances and Beginning of War, he was sure to make Peace when he listed: for Charles would be Desirous of it, that he might bring to pass his intended Designs; and he Himself would Accept of it, as not being deceived in his opinion of Maximilians Impotency, and the vain hopes from Spain. Yet he was sure to make Charles buy peace Dear, who had his mind so fixed upon the Conquest of Italy, as he did not care to part with a Certainty for an Uncertainty: so as getting Moneys from Him, and Benevolences from his Own Kingdom, he was likely to be a good Gainer by the bargain. Besides, his affairs were not so secure at Home, as to let him think on Foreign business; for he had discovered how the Duchess of Burgundy was hatching another Plot to trouble him: so as though Profit (whereunto he was Naturally inclined) had not been concerned, yet was he to have an eye to the Dangers wherewith he was threatened. Great store of Moneys coming in by the means of Benevolences (for he took a great care none should be exempted that were 1491 able to lend) he in a small time raised a mighty Army: and knowing that Charles had renewed his ancient Confederacy with james the Fourth, King of Scotland, with a reciprocal obligation to be assistant one to another, he proclaimed War against them Both; but not without fear that Maximilian would fail him at his greatest need: for though his Weakness and Wants were capable of remedy, if he should be succoured against his Subjects which molested him, yet his Nature was incapable thereof. It was impossible for him to maintain Ten thousand fight men, for Two years together, upon his Own Purse, according to his promise: though being Madded (as then he was) at the Double affront; of his Daughter's Repudiation, and the Usurpation of his Own Wife, he hoped to do Somewhat out of Nothing. That which did yet more weaken this Prince, was the Rebellion of Philip de Cleves Lord of Ravestein, who being upheld by Charles, had raised such Combustions in Flanders, as having possessed himself of Gaunt and Bruges, the chief Cities of that Country, he had forced such as favoured Maximilian to quit those Towns: and reaching further, he had made himself master of Sluice, and of the Two Castles which were its Security, seizing upon all Ships that went upon the Sea, hindering the Commerce of Antwerp, Brabant, Zealand and Freezland, and taking such as came from England and the Northern Countries; to the general prejudice of All Nations. Albertus, Duke of Saxony, Lantsgrave of Misnia, governed Flanders at that time, under Maximilian; it being left unto him by the Emperor his father, when he went from thence. This man foreseeing he could not force Ravestein unless he should get Sluice, nor that he could win Sluice, without having the Dam, by which succour came to it from Bruges, he feigned to make for Bruges, for matters concerning that Province; and not being to take such a journey, unless well followed, and in good Equipage (he being the man he was) he sent some Troops before, which entering peaceably in, went to the gate which looks towards Dam, as if they would quarter in the Neighbouring Villages, and not incommodate the City. Dam was not above a Flanders-mile from thence; the inhabitants whereof thinking these Troops had been sent from Bruges, let them in: and they making themselves Masters thereof, Bruges was in a manner besieged, and Sluice deprived of Succour. The Duke, for all this advantage, had no hopes to get Sluice without Forces by Sea: he sent news hereof to England; whereupon the King, who had had many complaints made him by the Merchants of the Insolences of Ravestein, and desired to uphold Maximilian, sent unto him Twelve Ships well furnished with Men and Ammunition under the Command of Sir Edward Poynings; who having shut up the Haven of Sluice, besieged the Town by Sea, whilst the Duke did the like by Land; and played with his Cannon upon the Two Castles wherein the Loss or Preservation of the Town consisted. They were valiantly defended for the space of Twenty days: the Earl of Oxford's brother was slain in a Sally which they made: and longer would they have held out, had not the Besiegers (in the dark of night) burned the Bridge which Ravestein had built between the Two Castles, which not being able to succour one another, he was enforced to surrender them, and together with them, Sluice. Bruges being reduced to its obedience, was the occasion of many Other Towns doing the like. Henry, this mean while, past the Summer in Ordering his 1492 men that were to go for France; and finding himself in a condition to pass over; he sent Sir john Risloy and U-sewick to Maximilian, to agree upon the place where they were to meet: but they found him so Unprovided, as having no hope, they were ready to return; yet they did not so, judging it fitter to advertise the King, and expect his Commands. The King, who feared the same, praised their discretion, and commanded them not to return till they had received new Directions, and that they should conceal that Prince's weakness, for fear of Disheartening his men. His Army was composed of Twenty thousand Foot, and Sixteen hundred Horse: the best men flocked thither; some to purchase merit, and some as thinking it not fitting to stay Behind when the King went in Person. He landed at Calais on the Sixth of October, the wiser sort marveling that he would undertake so difficult a War in so unfitting a time; for the Forerunners of Winter began already to be felt: but these difficulties served him to make men believe he desired that which indeed he did not: to wit, That being to begin a tedious War, the Season was of no importance, since he had Calais, from whence he might draw out his Army in the Spring without any manner of difficulty; and to transport it then from England, would be a long business, and, in respect of the Winds, uncertain. Assoon as he was Landed, he sent for his Ambassadors back, and Maximilians weakness was publicly made known, and that no Other help was to be expected from him than his goodwill; wherein he did as much abound, as he was defective in any other manner of assistance. At the hearing hereof, the Soldier's courage was somewhat Cooled, though not altogether taken Away; it served to dispose them beforehand, for Henry's designs: to work the same effect, there came Letters from Seignieur de Cordes, wherein was made an overture for Peace on Charles his behalf; which containing in it Reasonable conditions, it had been Unreasonable not to listen to it: From other parts it was confirmed that Ferdinand and Isabel were Agreed with him, having received from him the County of Rossillion, without repaying the Three hundred thousand Crowns for which it was pawned to him: this made all men see a Necessity of Peace. Henry notwithstanding, playing his game handsomely, deputed the Bishop of Exeter, and the Lord d'Aubeny to give Cordes a hearing; whilst he, without delay, on the 19 of October, planted his Camp before Boulogne; a Town well fortified, wherein was a great Garrison, and good store of Artillery; so as it was not to be taken but in a Long process of time, with the loss of many men, and much blood. He had hardly sat down a Month before it, when a Breach being thought fitting to be made, and the Soldiers ready to give the Assault, News came that Peace was concluded, to the great Dislike of the Army, and the Madding of such who having sold their possessions upon the hopes of this War, found themselves deceived. One cause which made Henry willing to accept of Peace (to boot with what have been already alleged) was for fear lest Charles might foment a New Duke of York; who began then to show himself. The substance of the Agreement was; That Charles should pay Seven hundred forty five thousand Crowns for divers considerations; for satisfaction of the Fifty thousand Crowns Yeerly, which ought to have been paid, but were not after the Death of Edward the Fourth; as also, for the Succours he had sent into Britanny, which the Duchess Anne acknowledged herself to stand indebted for; and for the Expenses he had been at in this Present war. The French Historians agree upon the same sum, but they do not specify the Causes why. Polydore affirming that the Peace was concluded by the payment of a great sum of money, adds Five and twenty thousand Crowns a year for Succouring of Britanny; which after Charles his death and Henry's, were paid to Henry the Eighth by Lewis the Twelfth and Francis the First, who durst not deny the payment of it, for fear of being set upon by him, whilst they made war in Italy. Charles did moreover, in imitation of his father, give Pensions and Presents to the chief of Henry's Court, that they might either favour him the more, or hinder him the less: whereat Henry connived; for it behoved him to interest the Greatest of the Kingdom in the Peace, which was but badly construed by the Rest. He endeavoured likewise to satisfy those who for their own particular respects were discontented; by showing them what Blood, and Loss of Lives, would have ensued in the assaulting of Bullein, together with the Small hopes they had to come off with Honour: and that if he had been Successful therein, yet had he deserved Blame; since what was to be gotten did not answer to the Loss of the Valiantest of his Army. He made use of the same arguments to make others persuade Him to make Peace, that it might be thought to have ensued from the Motion of Others, not from Himself. This Peace was good for Both the Kings: for Charles, by securing to him Britanny (which by occasion of this War was like to have Staggered) and opening a way unto him to agree with Maximilian, as he did: so as his Confines being secured on that side (they being formerly secured on all Other) he might with a quiet mind totally intend the getting of Naples: a resolution which proceeded not from Lodowick Sforza, who first incited him thereunto, but from his natural Genius, which compelled him to undertake it, (notwithstanding the many Difficulties he was to meet withal, especially the Want of Moneys) without any real foundation. Fortune, when she pleases, is able to make impossibilities possible. 'Twas good for Henry; for he thereby filled his Coffers, and was freed from the danger which the new Phantasm, representing the Duke of York, might have brought unto him, had it been so strongly backed by the King of France, as it was witnessed by the Duchess of Burgundy, and seconded by the King of Scotland. He feared some Insurrection from those which favoured the White Rose: for the love which the people had born him in regard of their Hatred to Richard, was grown less, so as he was now to subsist only by his Own worth: and his Wife's faction failed him, he having failed Her in those respects which his desire of being King in his Own Right, would not permit him to use unto her. His Camp being raised from before Bullein, he returned by Calais for England: having written to the Lord Maior and Aldermen of London, before he took Shipping, his reasons for Ending the War; not touching upon those we have spoken of, but such as he thought would Please; especially that the enemy had purchased Peace at so High a rate: this notwithstanding pleased not those who had been liberal to him in their Benevolences; 'tis true, their distaste was lessened by his returning with his Purse full; which made them believe he would not of a long time expect any thing from Them. Alphonso Duke of Calabria, eldest son to Ferdinand King of Naples, had entreated Henry to admit him into the Order of the Garter, 1493 believing the War between the Two Kings to be Endless. He thought that to have the Honour to be of the most famous Order of Christendom, would make him be respected amongst Princes, and reverenced by his Subjects; especially at such a time: he hoped that if France should stir against his Father, the King of England with opportune assistance would discharge the duty of the Fraternity: but he was deceived; it doth not dilate itself to so prejudicial an Obligation. Honour's are the Alchemy of Princes, which like Gamesters Tantoes, are worth as much, as they are made to be worth; they are not burdensome to the giver, every not the receiver: Mines are not digged up for them, treasure is not exhausted; neither have they any other Being then what Opinion gives them: he that hath not merit enough in himself to deserve them, is like a Sumpter-horse marked with the mark of a stately Courser. The King being come to London, sent him the Garter, and Robes belonging to the Order, by Ursewick. The Order was received by Alphonso, with the greatest Pomp that could be invented by any one who believes that Ostentations dazzle men's eyes, and bring things to their designed Ends: which happening but Sometimes, did not befall Him: for neither did This, nor any Other industry preserve him from ruin. But for that his success belongs not to Our Story, we refer the Reader to Guicchiardine's Relation. The King at his arrival in England heard that the Duke of York was not slain in the Tower, as he was believed to be; but that he was with his Aunt Margaret in Flanders: the which though Henry understood when he was in France, and, in his agreements, had made Charles, with whom he then was, send him away; yet he did not think the noise of this fiction was to be despised, since it might breed great troubles. We will relate the Beginning thereof, and the resolution which he thereupon took. The Duchess Margaret had, together with her Milk sucked in hatred against the Red-Rose-faction, enemy to the White, from whence She descended, insomuch as she spared not either for Injustice or Fraud, so she might oppress it; neither did Religion, or any other Scruple, withhold her from doing what in her lay to destroy it. She might have been contented that her Niece Elizabeth was Queen of England in default of her Two Nephews who should have inherited the Crown; since they failed therein, not through the cruelty of the Lancastrians, but of her brother Richard: yet was she not satisfied; but favoured Lambert Symnel, one unknown and Meanly born, by whose means she endeavoured to bereave her Niece of the Kingdom, so to deprive Henry and her Nephews begotten by him, (by her rather reputed Enemies than Nephews) her innate Hatred was of more power with her, than her Love to her Niece, and those that came of her: but failing in that design plotted by a Priest, she would contrive one Herself; and make thereof so hard and intricate a knot as that neither Henry's Wisdom, nor Sword, should be able to untie it or cut it in sunder. There are some that term her his juno: for as the ancient Fictions, one never ceased to persecute Aeneas, till fatal destiny made her aware that she vexed him but in vain; so this New and True one never ceased to persecute Henry, not perceiving that she contended with divine providence, which intending him for the Peace and Quiet of the Kingdom, did in despite of her, defend him from her malice. This new Duke of York was a poor lad, by whom she thought to effect that mischief, which she could not bring to pass. His father (who dwelled in Torney) was a Jew turned Christian, named john Osbeck, who necessitated by some occasions, went together with his Wife, to London, where she bore him this son; who being Christened by King Edward in his Own person, 'twas thought he would not have done so great a favour to so mean a child, had he not had some Secret interest in him; and (his mother being very fair) some were of opinion he had begotten him. He was named Peter, which according to the Custom and Diminutive of the Dutch Tongue, was converted to Perkin. Those who knew him not from his beginning, called him Warbeck, his true name of Osbeck not being known, till after enquiry had been made into it: so as the name of Warbeck, which was first given him out of Ignorance, by Custom continued to him. He was but very young when his father returned to Flanders; when he was somewhat Bigger, his father sent him to Antwerp, and from thence to Other parts: His travels and conversation with Divers Nations, had not only made him skilful in many Languages (English being his Natural tongue) but apt to fit himself to other men's Humours and Customs. This lad being met withal by some of Margaret's Officers, and by them judged very fit for what was to be done, they presented him to her: it cannot be said how much she was therewithal satisfied; for all conditions requisite for her purpose, were met together in him; Years, beauty, wit, comeliness of feature; I should say Majesty, but that was a quality of her Addition: She took an affection to him for his being Godson to her Brother; and the rather for that (being very fair) she thought him a by-scape of his: an opinion which made her form and transform him with the greater care and diligence. She bethought herself of all that she was either to instil into his mind, or affix in his actions: she omitted not any thing whereby to make him personate to the life the deceased Duke of York; she deciphered out unto him, as in so many well-drawn Pictures, the Delineaments, Semblances, and Behaviours of those of the Blood-royal: of the King, Queen, Prince, and Princesses; of the first he was to speak, as of his Father and Mother; of the rest, as of his Brother and Sisters: she bethought herself what Questions might be asked him; fitting him with Answers thereunto, such as might become his Youth: she did the like for what concerned such past businesses as might have fallen within his knowledge: she forgot not the particulars of the Sanctuary; how the Queen fled thither with the Duke of York; how he was taken from thence; how much Richard made of him when he had gotten him; his resorting to his brother in the Tower; the Manner of their living there; what Servants waited on them; their Fears; and the manner of his pretended Eseape; the names of the Lords, with each particularity, which to such a purpose had happened: she chiefly taught him how to counterfeit innate Nobility; in which he was so tractable, as he thought himself the very Duke of York whom he personated. She fitted the places of his peregrination with the times, to the end that when he should discourse of what had there happened to him, they might be believed. And finding him generally of a miraculous capacity, and in judgement much beyond his years, she took delight to instruct him, and was pleased in her Own work, happily invented, as she thought. She kept him continually in her most private lodgings, not trusting him to the air; for the chiefest article of this mystery was, to make the world believe she had never seen him. When she had brought her work to Perfection, she laid before him as his object the purchasing of the Crown of England; wherein if he should not prosper, than the chief place in her Court; for that he was to be reputed, not what in truth he was, but what for her honour he was to be believed to be: she being obliged to uphold him, to the end her favours might not be accounted the effects of Malice, but of Blood. When she afterwards perceived that Henry proceeded on in the affairs of Britanny (so as he must of necessity break with France) she would not keep him any longer with her. She sent him into Portugal, under the conduct of an English Lady, where he tarried for almost the space of a Year: and this she did, to the end that when he was to appear, it might be from a Third place: he had then directions sent him to pass into Ireland; for Henry having now declared War against France, 'twas a fit time to molest him: and the White-Rose saction being great in Ireland, he might get Assistants, and give a beginning to his Metamorphosis. He obeyed; he passed into Ireland: he made his abode in Cork; where at first sight, he was esteemed a man of great consequence: for his comely demeanour, and his plenty in all things (the Duchess having furnished him in great abundance for his better appearing) were sufficient to make the people take one thing for another. Having a while held them in suspense, he acknowledged himself (but as if he were enforced thereunto) to be the Duke of York, who having escaped out of the Tower, and run divers fortunes, was come to that Kingdom, hoping that the affection it had always born to his House, would now continue firm to him. Henry was not at this time passed into France, being retarded by the difficulties of so important an Expedition; so as Charles hearing of this apparition in Ireland, he thought it might make for his advantage to have him with him; that so he might trouble England if Henry should continue in Hostility; and if he should not continue therein, he might make his Peace upon better terms. One Steven Frion was Secretary to Henry for the French tongue, who being discontented, and holding Correspondence with the Duchess Margaret, fled into France, assoon as the War was proclaimed: this man gave Charles the first advertisement of Perkin: Charles sent Him together with another, as Ambassadors, to Perkin, inviting him to come into France, and offering to assist him in the regaining of England. An Invitation which augmented the hare-brained vanity of this Impostor: for being chosen by the Duchess of Burgundy, a wise Princess, to a business of this weight, received by the Irish (undoubted enemies to the House of Lancaster) and sent for by a King whose interests were concerned in His, he believed, That Fortune never undertook any great business without finishing it; not minding that Beginnings and End conform but Seldom; and that Prince's preserving themselves by their Own strengths, 'tis usual with Fortune to ruin such with the more certain precipice, whom she hath by unusual steps raised to the Highest point of her Wheel. When he had acquainted those whom he most trusted in Ireland with this Invitation, and thereby won more credit with them, he went to France, where he was by the King received with all honour due to the Duke of York: he called him by that Title; and according to that degree, fitted him with House, Servants, and Expenses; and with a Guard of Soldiers under the Command of the Lord Congreshal, to make him the more respected: Sir George Nevil and Sir john Taylor, with above a Hundred other Englishmen, waited continually upon him; and the Court itself, which follows the Prince's example, showed him the like respect, not but that the greatest part of the Courtiers, and especially the King, knew who he was; but because it was expedient for them not to know him. The Imposture was apparent, not by his ill governing himself, or through any default of his Person (for he abounded in Decency and Majesty) but by the true story of the true Duke of York; by the Unlikelyhood and Impossibility that he should escape the hands of a Crafty, Malicious, Dreaded Uncle: Yet did he not Long enjoy this glory; for the differences being ended between the Two Kings, it behoved him to be gone. Henry would have had him delivered into His hands; but Charles esteeming it an unworthy action, would not do it. He commanded him to depart his Kingdom; which he forthwith did: for he very much apprehended the being made the Offering in the Sacrifice of this Peace. He withdrew himself into Flanders, where the Duchess and he counterfeited their parts Strangely well: he seemed as if he had never been in those parts before; and she, as if she had never before seen him: He feigned to be fled thither as to a Sanctuary under the protection of an Aunt, who for the Nearness of Blood that was between them, aught to profess herself his Mother; She counterfeited Fears of being Deceived, being made cautelous by the example of Lambert Symnel; and this might be a counterfeit as well as He: She sent oftentimes for him, feigning to make an Exact scrutiny: at first, she seemed to be Doubtful; afterwards not Clearly satisfied; then more Inclining to Believe well: at Last, she broke forth into an Admiration, and Thanksgiving, praising the Divine Providence which had had commiseration on that innocent Blood, and had vouchsafed to preserve him so miraculously, showing the wonderfulness of his blessings to him: She then, with much seeming Passion, called him Nephew; the Bud of the White-rose; the Hope of the House of York; and the Restorer of the Honour and Justice of England: She assigned unto him a Guard of Thirty Halberdiers for his safety. Now every one began to think him Really to be what he personated, not imagining that a Woman could be capable of so much Cunning: insomuch as if he were respected in France as a foreign Prince, he was little less than Worshipped in Flanders, as Nephew to the Duchess, and almost as much as if he had been her Son. This news being brought into England, it was there greedily listened after; for men do naturally love to believe things unlooked for and incredible: Passions augmented this belief in such as were of that Faction, in those who desired Novelties, in the Discontented: as also in those who loved Equity: for the Crown had neither belonged to Henry, nor yet to his Wife, if her Brother had been alive. Hereupon arose Whisper, liberty of Discourse and Complaints: the present ill Government was in every man's mouth; the endless Impositions, the King's insatiable Avarice, which was the cause of a Shameful Peace, after Britanny had More shamefully been suffered to be lost: The Nobility were no less distasted; they were grieved at the small account the King made of them; so that All men's conceits fell upon the same point, That God being a just Judge, had preserved the True Heir to seat him again in his Throne, which had been Twice usurped from him: for Henry had no right thereunto of Himself, and had Waved his Wives right that he might reign Alone; that therefore it was not to be wondered at, if after so much injustice, God had raised up his Brother-in-law to punish him. Nor did this business end only in Discourse: for there were some personages of Great quality, who would sound the Bottom of it; amongst which were the Lord Chamberlain, William Stanley, brother to Henry's father-in-law (he who had assisted him in the battle against Richards, and may be said to have made him King) the Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Montefort, and Sir Thomas Thwaites: these made choice of some people of quality to send into Flanders, that upon their relation, they might ground their resolutions: but of many there were only Two that would hazard themselves to undertake the business which was shunned by all the rest; for if the business should prove fictitious, they were likely to lose their Goods and Country. Robert Clifford and William Barley, were the Two; both of them of good Families, especially the first. When they came to Flanders, the Duchess Margaret received them with much honour, and having discoursed long with Clifford, that she might the better inform herself of their intentions that sent them, she brought him to the sight of Perkin: with whom after he had discoursed many days, he wrote back into England, that he was the Duke of York; and that he knew him as well as he knew Himself. The King was troubled at these men's going, since it could not 1494 but produce dangerous consequences: but the greatness of his spirit being averse to fear, he forbore to make any extraordinaty provision against it, so not to augment the credit thereof, which his seeming neglect might lessen. Yet he forbore not to shut up the Ports, and to place such guards there, as he might know who came in and out; endeavouring to discover what correspondency the fugitives had. He feared not the Imposture, being certainly informed how the Duke of York was, together with his brother, put to death; but it behoved him that Others should likewise be certain thereof: wherefore he put, as prisoners, into the Tower, Sir james Tirrel, and his servant john Dighton, who were the only Two that remained alive of the Four which were conscious of this cruelty; for Miles Forrest (the Second rogue that slew them) and the Priest that buried them, were dead: they deposed, That Tirrel saw them Dead after they were Smothered; that he made them be buried underneath a stair, and covered them with a Stone; from whence, by order from Richard, they were afterwards ta'en, and reburied by the Minister of the Tower; but in what place they knew not, the Minister being Dead. But the King, not satisfied with these testimonies, that he might divert the danger, and satisfy the World, he bethought himself of some other means whereby he might discover the Impostors condition and descent. He made choice of some, and scattered them throughout all Flanders, directing them what they were to do: Those who were not to stay in any settled place, were ordered diligently to inquire after his Birth, and to give Him daily advertisement of what they should learn: which makes men believe he had some glimpse of it before: the other, who were to make their abode where He was, were (by his direction) to seem as if they were fled away, so to shun the danger they should incur, if they were discovered to be wellwishers to his party; and to profess they were come to run the like fortune with Him: they were, as the Other, to make Discovery, but more particularly to find out the Designs and Correspondencies; they were to grow familiar with those whom Perkin most confided in, and to show them the Vanity of the Undertaking, they having to do with a wise King; not easily to be beaten without extraordinary Forces; that the Dutchess' favours were not answerable to their need; that they wanted assistance, and were not certain of what they presumed to be Secure; which was the assistance of the party, and the people's inclination, both which were unuseful: for that such accurate and diligent provision was made, that all men would forbear to declare themselves, unless they might be encouraged by the sight of a Great army, which the Duke of York was not likely to show them; no not if all Flanders were to declare itself for him. But their chief care was to sound Clifford by tasting him with fair promises; for if they could win Him over, the deed was done, he being the Cabinet of secret Correspondencies between Flanders and England: neither were they much troubled to effect it; for, being come to the knowledge of this imposture, he was wrought upon by them; with promise of Forgiveness, and of Rewards, proper baits for such a fish. Henry, this mean while, had made all those whom he had sent, to be excommunicated in Paul's, and their Names to be registered in the Book of the King's enemies (according to the custom of those times) to the end that no man might suspect them: neither did he forbear to solicit the Confessors of the greatest men, that he might learn how they were inclined; not weighing the Profanation of Religion and holy things, since his particular interest was concerned, though in all Other things he was reputed a Pious Prince. At last they came to the perfect knowledge of Perkin's Birth, Name, Surname, Country, Employments, and Voyages, till coming to the Duchess, he was metamorphized into the Duke of York: they likewise won over Clifford, who gave them such proofs of his repentance, as the King was therewithal satisfied. Perkin's Genealogy was published in the Court, and throughout the Kingdom: and Henry not esteeming it fitting that a Mechanic should with such ostentation be protected in Flanders, under a false name, and which redounded to His injury, he sent Ambassadors to the Archduke Philip (Maximilian being gone into Germany) who were Sir Edward Poynings, and Sir William Warham Doctor of the Civil Law. The Council gave them audience, the Archduke being yet a Child: their Embassy was, That Flanders being confederate, and in friendship with England, the King could not but resent that she should nourish an Impostor who durst call himself Duke of York, and pretended unto his Kingdom: that such a Belief must needs admit of some Malignity, since the Duke of York's death was too manifest to the world; which were it not so, very Conjecture were sufficient to put it out of doubt: the Nature and Craft of Richard the Third was not such as would encourage the Executors of his cruelty to save One brother, and murder the Other: Mercy was not to be supposed in such Rascals; and if it were, not without Reward, and freedom from Punishment: Reward was not to be expected from a Child destitute of Hopes, and who getting out of prison, had not wherewithal to feed himself: but say that mere Compassion had moved them to save him; such compassion must be either in One or in All of them: it was impossible it should be in One of them, and the Rest not know of it; and it was incredible it should be in All of them, for that three such wicked ones could not so far trust one another, as not to live in perpetual Jealousy: And give this likewise granted, how could a child, ignorant of the ways, wanting direction and counsel, pass undiscovered, that the Night-guards which are usual in all the streets of London, should not stop him, should not take him? or that some other difficulty should not hinder him? 'twas impossible a tender child of Nine years old, alone, in Lordlike looks, and apparel, could pass on, unknown by any: Certainly this could not have befallen the True Duke of York, much less could it have happened unto the Counterfeit, whose true name was Perkin: that the King knew him well; knew his Country and his Extraction, that the Nurse or rather Mother of this, the Duchess of Burgundy, knew it well enough, who emulating the ancient Fables, had brought him forth (as jove did Mercury) out of her Brain, feigned him to be her Nephew, given him instructions and taught him how to lie: that she could not tolerate that her Niece should reign, being joined to the House of Lancaster; her hatred being thereunto such, as rather than to suffer her to be a Queen with such a Husband, she would bereave Her and her Children of a Kingdom, and give it to Perkin, begotten by a Jew turned Christian: They desired, that after the example of the King of France, they would chase him out of their Country; and that if the useful friendship which was between the two Nations, should persuade them (as well it might) to do More, they should do like true friends indeed, if they would deliver him up into Their Hands. The Answer was, That they desired to preserve friendship with the King; that they would not assist the pretended Duke of York: but that they could not hinder the Duchess (who was absolute in her Country) from doing what she listed. Henry was not pleased with this answer; knowing that Princess' Dowagers have not the like Prerogative over the Countries where they govern as had their Husbands: for if they were endowed with Absolute Sovereignty and Dominion, they might wage War, put the State into Combustion, and utterly lose it: but having learned that she had great power in the Council, and that the Archduke could do no otherwise; whilst the world would believe that Perkin was protected in Despite of Him; he recalled the English Merchants from Flanders, and banished the Flanders Merchants out of England, and transported the Staple of Cloth and Wool from Antwerp to Calais: the which though it were to the great loss of the People, and that Philip knew they would exclaim against it; yet did not he forbear doing the like, by driving the English out of his Dominions. The King moreover upon advertisements from Clifford, imprisoned the Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Montfort, and Sir Thomas Thwaites, William d'Aubeny, Robert Ratcliff, Thomas Cressenor, Thomas Astwood, William Worseley Dean of Paul's, and certain Friars, amongst which two Dominicans: he would have shut up More, but the scandal would have been too great. Montfort, Ratcliff, and d'Aubeny, were convinced of High Treason, and beheaded; the Lord Fitz-water being sent prisoner to Calais, not in despair of Life, by his endeavouring to escape, lost both his hopes and life: the rest were pardoned. The King had created his second son, Henry, Duke of York, in Westminster, where, as is usual at such Solemnities, divers Knights 1495 of the Bath were made: but when he heard that Clifford was landed in England, he withdrew himself to the Tower, that he might hear him There; to the end that if he should accuse any of extraordinary quality, they might be imprisoned without any great noise. Clifford being admitted to his presence, threw himself at his feet, and begged his pardon; the which being formerly granted, he again confirmed unto him: and being commanded to speak, if he had any more to say concerning the Conspiracy, he named the Lord Chamberlain Sir William Stanley: at whose name all the standers by were startled; it not being likely that a man of his quality, rich, the Favourite, nearest to the King, and the chief instrument of his Assumption to the Crown, should be a Traitor: whereupon being advised to think Better what he said; he without Haesitation or Altering his Colour, accused him as Before. Stanley was shut up in his Chamber, and was the next day examined by the Council: he denied some few Circumstances, but confessed the Fault; affying his Former actions, for which he presumed the King would pardon him: but he was deceived. Deserts and Misdeserts weigh not alike, when they are of a like Excess: though he had Put the Crown upon his head; by negotiating how to take it Away again, he nullified his Former deserts: his Repenting for the Service done, cancelled the Obligation; the which though it were very great, was in some sort rewarded: Recompense cannot be given for a Kingdom, by conferring Another Kingdom to the Donour; or by resigning over to him the Same: the Inequality of the Persons, equals the Disparity of the good turn: the Riches, and Honour he received from Henry, were equivalent to the Crown which Henry received from Him: (if it may be Formally said that he did receive it from him) the one was Born for It, the other for Meaner things. Yet was Henry in great doubt with himself, whether he should put him to death, or no: the love and reverence which he bore to his Father-in-law, pleaded for Clemency; Example, and the Condition of the Times, put in for Severity; but if it be true which some Authors write, his Riches bore down the balance: he being esteemed one of the greatest moneyed men in England. Neither were men deceived in this their opinion; for in his Castle of Holt were found Forty thousand Marks in ready money (his Jewels and Movables not therein comprehended) and in Revenues and Pensions he had Three thousand pounds a year; a considerable sum in those days. Whereupon after having deferred this business some Six weeks, to the end that his Brother and the People might have time to Examine it, he was condemned to die, and lost his head. His execution afforded matter of diversity of discourse: those that were not of the Court, who were ignorant of the Secrets of Government, and made their conjectures upon Circumstances, and doubtful Relations, esteemed the case, if not wholly void of Fault, at least not worthy of the Highest punishment: a belief which was occasioned by reason of a Rumour that was spread abroad, That in his discourse with Clifford concerning Perkin, he should say unto him, That if he should for certain know he were the Duke of York, son to Edward the Fourth, he would not take up Arms against him: A manner of Speech which though it did not Openly declare any ill-will to the King's Person, yet such was it as did not sound well in His mouth; his Example being sufficient to alter the whole Kingdom; and the words not admitting of any other interpretation, than his Opinion of Henry's unjust title to the Crown; which derogated from the Pretences of the House of Lancaster, and from the Authority of Parliament. The reason which alienated him from the King, is said to be, That he desiring the King to make him Earl of Chester (a Title, and County which the Kings of England do for the most part give to the Princes of Wales, their firstborn Sons) the King did not only Deny his request, but was Offended with him for it; thinking him now arrived to those pretences which did exceed the condition of a Subject, after he had rewarded his services with equivalent rewards: having made him Privy Counsellor, Lord Chamberlain, given him daily whatsoever he demanded, assigned Pensions to him, and in the day of Battle wherein Richard was slain, seemed not to take notice that he appropriated unto Himself the Prey and Booty of the whole Camp, of which He himself stood in Need, being but a New King: permitting all things to him, to the end that when he was grown Rich, he might satisfy his own thirst of having. This man's death put all the Court in a Quandary, one man durst not trust another; each one feared lest all his friends might prove Clifford's: Yet such was the spirit of Backbiting, that they made use of pen and paper, to utter what for fear of danger they durst not do with their tongues; Libels were written against some of the Council, and against the King himself, the authors whereof could not so well conceal themselves, but that Five of them miscarried, paying for their Error with the loss of life. Perkin's party this mean while decreased; no man durst so much as think any more of him, and they were but very few that tarried with him in Flanders: amongst which, Barley, Clifford's companion, was the chiefest, who notwithstanding, afterwards, altered his opinion, and together with his Pardon, got leave to return home. But the death of the Conspirators, and the dissipation of the Complices, were not sufficient to make Henry rest in quiet, unless he should destroy the Nest which was in Ireland; seeing that Lambert first, and then Perkin, had been so affectionately received there. It behoved him to settle his authority there in such manner as it should be undoubted: he made choice of Two to serve him in Two several Offices; the Prior of Langton with title of Commissioner, that he might look to the Civil Government of the Kingdom, making him Chancellor; and Edward Poynings, who was to have charge of the Militia, giving him a great many Soldiers, with Commission to be Marshal, and Lieutenant, to which the Deputy, which was the Earl of Kildare, was subordinate. The Prior met with no difficulty; the Laws being his Arms, and the peaceful people the matter of his jurisdiction: but Poynings, who was to deal with Stubborn men and Rebels, had not the like fortune: for Ireland being full of Woods, Boggs, and Desert places (the happiness of the poor people consisting in Idleness, in somuch as the ground is there for the most part unbroken up) he was to make War, just as men do Hunt; for those whose consciences and courages mis-gave them, retiring themselves into places inaccessible for strangers, and unknown unto them, he spent much time there to small purpose; killing some few, and taking some few prisoners, which made not much for the main enterprise; so as being angry with those, who having no intention to withstand him, had no cause to fear him, he laid the fault upon the Earl of Kildare, as if he had succoured them underhand. He sent him prisoner into England, without any other Proof against him, save his Own Suspicion: and the Earl did so fully justify himself, as that he was declared Innocent, and reestablished in his former Government. But if Poynings had no success with those which stood out against him, yet was his fortune such with the rest, as he persuaded them to accept of all Ordinances made in England till that day, which in former times were not of power in that Kingdom. This Declaration was and is called Poynings his Law. Ireland therefore is governed by the same Laws as is England; for so many as were made till the Tenth year of Henry: but such as have been made since are not admitted of, there. The Conspiracy thus unsuccessefully ended, did not so quell Perkin's spirit, but that he thought the affections of those of his Party, were rather Oppressed, then quite Dead; and that a new spirit would so revive them, as Henry should not be so fortunate in suppressing them, as he had been. Thus flattering himself, he assembled together certain Troops of men of desperate fortunes, who either for Debts, or other misdemeanours, durst not show their heads; and embarking them, he came to Anchor before Sandwich, landing some of his men to learn news, and to discover how the people in those parts were affected, giving out that he had great Forces which were coming in a Fleet after him. The King at this time was gone his Progress, and was now with his Mother in her house at Latham, whom he went to visit; and that by his coming thither, the world might know, that the death of Sir William Stanley had not made his father-in-law think the worse of him: here he heard of Perkin's arrival; whereby he received this advantage, that he having so behaved himself as his People esteemed him to be a politic Prince, they thought nothing befell him which he did not foresee: and that his retiring himself into the Northern parts, was one of his cunning fetches; for knowing he had left the South-parts free from danger, he intended to allure Perkin to land, that so he might be sure not to escape. But whatever the matter was, at the first news he resolved to return; and was not well pleased at the Second, which informed him that he was gone again; for he perceived this trouble would continue longer than he imagined. The cause of Perkin's departure was this; the Kentish-men had well observed the condition of those whom he had landed; and that there were but few English amongst them, and those few of no worth nor consideration; wherefore they took counsel with the Chief of the Shire, concerning their taking Arms; the which being agreed upon, they showed a part of their men upon the Sea shore, to invite him to land; and scattered the rest abroad, some here, some there, as if they were ready to run away: but Perkin perceiving their drift, budged not a foot; wherefore the Kentishmen gave upon them that were on the shore: slew some of them, took other some, very few of them getting back to their Ships. At this time died Cecilie Nevil, Duchess of York; who, born to be unfortunate, outdid the miseries of her daughter-in-law Queen Elizabeth, who was very unhappy: she bore to her husband Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, Eight sons, and Four daughters: all her Sons died during her life; Four of them died natural deaths, while they were Young; of whom we make no mention in our Genealogy, because our History speaks not of them: of the Other Four, the Three Last came to a violent end, and the First died not well; for King Edward died in the strength of youth consumed by disorder; Edmund; Earl of Richmond, was, together with his Father, slain at the Battle at Wakefield; George, Duke of Clarence, was put to death in the Tower by his brother; and Richard the Third was slain at Bosworth-field: She had been the less to be pitied, had the Funerals of her family ended in her Husband and Sons; but they extended themselves to her grandchildren male; all which she outlived, save Edward Earl of Warwick, son to the Duke of Clarence, who being shut up in the Tower, was not to expect any other death then Violent, but to share therein with the rest, as he did: so as being made unhappy by so many miseries (any One of which had been able to have made her so) fortune would yet render her fuller of calamity, by making her lose her Honour, her own Son declaring her to be an Adultress, thereby to make himself King: and though there were no true colour for it, yet was the stain true, wherewithal she was aspersed, by a Basilisk that issued out of her own bowels; which was a misery above all other miseries, and of all wounds the most sensible. Perkin, being retired to Flanders, if he should tarry there, he must needs be discovered for an Impostor; and the Duchess of 1496 Burgundy, should she detain him there, must be known to be fomentresse of the Forgery: so as it behoved him to be gone from thence, and her to send him away, to go on with the work which they had both so unluckily begun. This resolution was befriended by the distaste which Maximilian, and his son Philip took at Henry, for taking the Commerce of England from their States; and by the like distaste taken by Charles, King of France, for his having entered into league against him, concerning his affairs in Italy. But Perkin's missing of entertainment in Ireland, which he expected (for Poynings had an eye to the actions of the Rebels there) he met with it in Scotland; whither he went, grounding his hopes upon the natural enmity of those Two Kingdoms, and upon the recommendation of the Three abovewritten Princes: he had solemn audience given him by the King, in the presence of all the Lords that were then at Court. His Lordlike looks, which (together with his being thought the true Duke of York) were augmented by Art, and by the gifts of Nature, captivated the goodwill of the standers by. Having in a grave manner done his Obeisance to the King, he told him, That he was the unhappy Richard Plantagenet, son to Edward the Fourth, who drawn by fraudulent promises from his mother's bosom (she having taken Sanctuary at Westminster) was brought to the Tower of London, there to be smothered with his brother Edward; but that charity arising in the breast of those who executed that cruel office, they were contented with the death of his Elder brother, and saved Him, giving him life, liberty, and means how to scape away: he desired to be pardoned if he did not tell the Manner how, for that the interests of those that had saved him, who were yet alive, would not suffer him so to do: that Fortune had posted him into divers places, and God had given him the grace to conceal his condition, lest being known, the evil might have befallen him which the vigilancy of a wicked Uncle threatened, who having usurped his Kingdom from him, knew he could not enjoy it but by his death, which he thought had already happened: but that his Uncle being by divine justice rewarded according to his deserts, and he grown in years after many circumvolutions he had withdrawn himself from France, to his Aunt, the Duchess of Burgundy, who being a widow, and on the Other side of the Sea, could not give him such assistance as was requisite for the recovery of his Kingdom; which being fallen from One Tyrant to Another; from an unnatural Uncle, to a Kinsman who was naturally his Enemy, he stood in need of some to assist him; Arms being the only Tribunal whereat pretences to Kingdoms are disputed: that England knew very well his claim, and his being; which some of the chiefest there had witnessed with their bloods, betrayed by their false, corrupt friends: that Corruption was easily effected, where Jealousy and Suspicion made men, who were naturally covetous and sparing, (as was Henry) liberal and profuse: that Ireland was not ignorant of this, but that being grievously oppressed, her weakness was such, as she could not show her fidelity, and obedience to the House of York, and to Him the true heir thereof, as she formerly had done, and would again do; neither was it to be doubted, but that if he could find a place to take footing in, and any one that would protect him, he should, both from the one Kingdom, and the other, receive such assistance; as might make the regainment of his own an easy business: that the Duchess, Emperor, Archduke, King of France, and Himself, finding there was no other whereon for him to take footing, than Scotland, nor other Protector for him, than the magnanimous King thereof; they had advised him to present himself before his Majesty, they being afterwards ready to join with him in so just a cause, in defence of an Orphan, and to the assistance of a Prince betrayed, usurped upon, and driven out of this Country as was He. Here enlarging himself upon Henrye's illegal pretences, upon his base, ignoble descent, vilifying his Grandfather Tewder as descended from the Scum of the poorest sort in Wales; he said that his title was in no sort good unto the Crown, nor yet his Wife's title as long as He the Duke of York (and of right King) lived: that Henry had endeavoured to have him given up into his hands by Charles, when he was in France; but that being by Charles denied, he had not spared for Treachery, Arms nor poison to bereave him of his life, by the means of divers of his Ministers, more particularly by Robert Clifford the wickedest of them all; so as when all his diabolical designs failed him, his last refuge was to slanders, and to new inventions drawn from hell, thereby to obscure the splendour of his Birth; to the end that, being believed to be what he would have him to be, his tyranny and usurpation might not be withstood: that if he were such a one, King Charles, nor his aunt the Duchess would not have counselled him to have had recourse to the powerful tuition of the King of Scotland, with hopes that he would succour him, as his generous Predecessors had formerly done the afflicted Kings of England; whose name, worth, and Kingdom since he inherited, he hope he should inherit the like benefits as they had done; that he might show himself (having recovered his Kingdom) to be the most useful and truest friend, that ever did or shall deserve to be celebrated for gratitude. Perkins expressions, the compassion of his case, the recommendation of so many Princes, and their promises; or rather the Occasion to wage war with Henry (whereunto he had a great desire) moved the King to promise him his assistance: the which he readily effected, though many, who knew the Imposture, dissuaded him from him; & moreover he did not only appoint unto him an Attendance and Entertainment every way befitting a Duke of York, but that it might be believed he took him to be so, he gave unto him for wife his nearest kinswoman, Katherine Gordon, daughter to the Earl of Huntley, a Lady of excellent beauty. Such provisions being made as the enterprise required, he with a good 1496 Army entered Northumberland, where Perkin, under the name of Richard Duke of York, the true and lawful heir to the Crown of England, published a Declaration, the Contents whereof were; That being by the Grace of God, and Favour of james the fourth King of Scotland, entered into his Kingdom of England, he declared his coming was not to make war upon his subjects, but to free them from the tyranny wherewith they were oppressed: that it was known the Crown belonged to the Regal house of York, of which since after the death of Edward the fourth, there remained no other pretender than Himself, his Son; He and no other was the lawful heir thereof: that Henry Teudor had usurped the Crown from him, and by in humane ways sought to betray him, and bereave him of his life: that he had vaunted himself to have eased the subject of a Tyrant, but by excluding the Duke of York, their rightful King, he had made himself their Tyrant: that Richords tyranny was so much the more excusable, in that his Nephews being supposed to be dead, he had some Pretences to colour it with: the difference between them two was, that Richard, a true Plantagenet, had for his aim the Honour of the Nation, and the Subjects Tranquillity; Henry, meanly born, (not regarding the Honour of the Nation, nor the People's Tranquillity) had sold the Kingdoms best friends for ready money, made dishonourable peace, and not only oppressed the subject, but unjustly put to death the Lord Chamberlain Stanley, and divers others, who were likely to have withstood his oppressions. Ambition had moved Richard to tyranny, Henry, Avarice; Ambition had made use of cruel means; Avarice not only of Cruel, but Base, extortive means: his Cruelty was witnessed by the death of so many, and by the imprisonment of the Earl of Warwick, Son to the Duke of Clarence; his Baseness and Extortion, by such extraordinary grievances, Tenths, Subsidies, Taxes, and Impositions, under the name of Benevolences; and by the wars and peace he made, only that he might heap up treasure: and because his unjust possession of the Crown made him live in perpetual fear and suspicion, not only of Men, but even of Women, he had married Ladies of the blood Royal to people of mean condition, amongst which a sister of Him the Duke of York, and a sister of his Cousin the abovementioned Earl of Warwick, that he might have the less reason to fear: so that, as he now came to free them from violence by such forces as God should assist him withal, so by his plenary Regal authority, he did at that present free them from all Grievances, by Revoking and abolishing in perpetuity, All that had hitherto been imposed upon them, contrary to all Law and Custom; and to the end that the good will of his subjects might not be prejudiced by the Law, for having illegally obeyed the Tyrant he granted to them a General Pardon for all their transgressions, upon condition they would submit themselves to Him, and acknowledge him for their King; the which they that should be the Forwardest to do, should be the First that should enjoy the Maidenhead of his Regal favours: that he would maintain all that his Ancestors, more particularly his Father Edward of glorious memory, had sworn unto; which was the Preservation of their Privileges, and Liberty, the Franchise of the Clergy, Nobility and People: He promised a Thousand pound in ready money, and Five Marks a year of Inheritance for ever, whosoever should take or kill Henry: he declared that the King of Scotland's assisting of him was not done out of any Bargain or Promise made Prejudicial to the Kingdom of England, but out of the near love to Justice, a virtue wherein he excelled; and that when he should have put him in a condition or posture that he might be able to defend himself by the forces of his own English subjects, he would return to Scotland, pretending to nothing else but the Honour of having Raised Him up. This Declaration proved like seed sown on the sands: whereupon King james, after he had long in vain expected some Commotion, be took himself to plunder, and destroy with as little mercy as the Scots had wont to do in former times; and Perkin, who till now had played his part extremely well, failed in This, showing too much Affection therein. For having desired the King not to suffer his men, contrary to the Laws of Arms to commit such outrages, for that no purchase whatsoever could be acceptable to him, which was got with the Blood and Ruin of his own subjects: the King, who either had before informed himself of his being; or else began to suspect it by this his so Affected and Impertinent request, answered him, smiling; That he took too much care of what did not at all belong unto him; and that to endeavour the preservation of an Enemy's country, was the most that could be done by a Perfect Christian. Having enriched his soldiers, he returned back, knowing that great forces were coming down upon him, and that it would be dangerous for him to stay till they came, finding himself encumbered by that great booty he took along with him. Merchants were much troubled at the breach of Commerce between England and Flanders; insomuch as, meeting with a fit occasion, they began to treat thereof with their several Princes; since that the reducing it to the former condition, would make for the advantage of Both sides, and therefore was to be desired by Both: by the Archduke; for being informed that Perkin (the cause of the disorder) was a Cheater, he should have wronged his Reputation in favouring him any longer; and have much injured his Subjects and Himself, by the evil that might there hence have resulted, by Henry; for not valuing now Perkin any more, the breach of correspondence with Burgundy was not only prejudicial to Private men, but even to Himself; since that thereby his Customs (a principal arrow in the quiver of Princes) were diminished: notwithstanding though he did desire it, he would not seem to do so, but appear to be drawn by the instance of others. Commissioners were sent from both sides, who renewed their friendship, and reestablished the commerce in a better way then formerly: and to the articles touching this business, and the Freedom of Fishing, was added an Inhibition of either side to entertain the Rebels of one another; in which article the Lands belonging to the Duchess Margaret were by Name inserted, to the end that such as did adhere to Perkin might not be sheltered there. The affront offered by the King of Scotland, stuck yet in henry's stomach, which was not to be revenged but by war, war was not to be made without money, nor was money to be had without a Parliament: wherefore he called a Parliament, and therein acquainted them with the Losses he had suffered by the King of Scots in Northumberland; who having no cause of enmity with Him, had taken upon him for a Pretence, to protect Perkin, though he knew him to be an Impostor; how the injury was aggravated by the Affront; for finding that country unarmed and void of defence, after having ruined and burnt up the country, he had safely retired himself, laden with booty, into Scotland. This business was judged worthy of the King's consideration; (such injuries not being without shame to be put up) wherefore the Parliament decreed unto him good store of money, to be raised according to the usual wont; which being paid in all parts else, was only denied to be paid in Cornwall; the Inhabitants thereof thought this an unjust exaction; and that the Scotish Commotion was so far from Them, as they were not thereby to be obliged as were the countries thereby detrimented; asif when the Head aches, the Legs and Feet be not concerned, but may put over the execution of their duties to the Arms and Neck, as nearer thereunto. To make good this mutiny two mutinous heads appeared; the one a Farrier by his trade, the other an Attorney, each of which had their ends; Michael joseph the Blacksmith was moved by Ambition, believing such a seditious action would add lustre unto him, and that his clownish loquacity would procure him the first place amongst the Country people: Thomas Flammock, the Attorney, having gotten credit by his profession, had so far won upon their opinions, as they believed the denying of this Subsidy, and their mutiny thereupon to be Legal, and meritorious: his opinion was of authority sufficient to interpret the Power of King or Parliament: he had instructed them that they were not bound to the payment of any Subsidies for war with Scotland; that the Law had provided for it by other means, so as this Subsidy was invented to fleece the People: he therefore advised them to present a Petition to the King, who for the example of other men could not choose but punish the Inventors of it: they both offered themselves to lead them on, till they should find some man of Quality, under whom, they, with the hazard of their lives, would continue to serve them; but that for matter of Life, there was no Hazard at all, their demand being so Just, as it would be approved of by all the other shires; since the public good was treated of, from which the King's particular interest could not be separated. Hereby encouraged, they took up arms; and because they were not all provided of Bows and Arrows, they armed themselves with such Tools as belonged to their several Trades. They entered by Somerset-shire, and passed through Devonshire, not offering any manner of Outrage: when they came to Taunton, they slew one of the Commissioners for the Subsidy, who had showed himself more busy therein then the rest: at Wells they met with the Lord Audley, who having had former intelligence with their two Leaders, was chosen their General. They would go into Kent, out of an opinion that that country (which never having been conquered, was according to Flammock, the Freest part of England) was likely to join with them: but finding the contrary, some wondered at it, and other some were mad thereat: the former handsomely drawing their neck out of the Yoke, returned home; the others, passing forwards, thought, that since they had met with no opposition in so long a march, the King and the City would suffer them to make their Own Conditions: and with this foolish imagination they encamped themselves within sight of London, between Greenwich and Eltham. The King was troubled at the first news of this mutiny, fearing lest he should have Three Irons in the fire at once: the people of Cornwall, Perkins secret Intelligence, and the war with Scotland. He took up arms as soon as the Parliament was ended, thinking to go towards Scotland; but crossed by the other occasion, he suspended that resolution: and because he had sent the Lord d' Awbeny (whom he had made Lord Chamberlain in lieu of Stanley) with some forces to the confines of Scotland; he sent for him back, to take such counsel as necessity required, and sent in his stead the Earl of Surrey with order to defend the country, in case the Scots should fall in upon it: he moved not at the very First (as was his wont) against the Rebels; for the Country, not being by them endamaged, did not require it; and he was confident that wanting Money and Ammunition, they would, of themselves, Disband as they had already begun to do, when they failed in their hopes of the Kentish men: but when he saw them encamped, he resolved to fight with them; moved thereunto, by his apparent Advantages, by which foreseeing what might be effected, he freed himself from all the hazards of Fortune: He divided his forces, which far exceeded Theirs, into three great Battalions: he assigned the First over to the Earls of Oxford, Essex and Suffolk; the Second, to the Chamberlain; and he commanded the Third, Himself: he appointed the First to place themselves behind the Hill where They were encamped, and to secure all the Passages save that towards London, that being enclosed like wild beasts in a toil, they might not know how to escape: he ordered the Chamberlain to give them battle in the Front, having given unto him the Best and most Experienced Soldiers in all the Army, being it was on Them that the greatest burden lay; he Himself stayed with the Third between London and Them, to supply them, if it should be needful, and to fight with them that should dare march towards the City, as the citizens apprehended: The fear hereof had caused much confusion in London; citizens were seen to run armed through the streets, some to the Walls, some to the River, minding what they had to do: for they could not think they were come from Cornwall, the uttermost bounds of England, with other intention then to enrich themselves by the sacking of that opulent City; and they did not hold that their having passed quietly through all other parts, aught to be taken for an argument to make them believe the like upon This occasion: but understanding the good order which the King had taken, how that he had interessed his own Person in the danger; that the enemy was to win Three battles, before they could come to the City; and that the Commanders were not only Faithful and valiant, but such as they confided in, they laid aside their fears. The King had caused it to be noised abroad (to the end that he might take them the more unprovided) that he would not fight with them till the Monday following; but towards the Saturday Evening, the Lord d' Awbeny set upon some troops, which (not looking to be fought withal till Monday) were upon the side of the Hill, who though they resisted valiantly, yet being but Few in number, they could not make good their Station; so as quitting it, it was easy for the King's Forces to climb the Hill, make themselves Masters of the Plain, and give on upon them: they (though taken thus at unawares with their troops out of order) received the assault so handsomely, as the Lord d' Awbeny, fight in the Head of his men, and playing the part rather of a Common Soldier, than a Commander, was taken Prisoner; but was presently rescued: for the Rebels being ill armed without Commanders, Artillery, or Horse, they could not so far resist, but that in a short time, two Thousand of them were slain, and a great many taken Prisoners. The General Audley, and the two Seducers, (the Attorney, and the Blacksmith) suffered themselves basely to be taken alive. Three hundred of the King's side were slain, all of them almost by Arrows; for the Cornish had strong Bows, and very long Arrows. The King came thither to make many Knight's Bannerets; and others he made in St. George's fields where he was encamped: he gave the goods of such as were taken, to those that took them, to be disposed of as they listed. Audley was beheaded upon Tower-hill, having on him a Coat of paper torn, with his Arms painted thereon, the wrong side upwards. The Attorney and the Blacksmith were brought to Tibourn, where they were Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered; the Blacksmith not ceasing to show his vanity and vainglory at the very last; believing in future times his name would be big in story. The King would not have their quarters be sent into Cornwall, as he had appointed; for, hearing that they were not totally appeased, he thought it was not good to incite them any further. To all the rest he gave a General Pardon; so as in so scandalous a rebellion, there were but Three that suffered: those not being cast into the number which were slain in the Battle, who perished rather by Fortune, then by way of Punishment. The King of Scotland, hearing of this rebellion, made use of it: he went to besiege Norham Castle, plundering the country. This Castle belonged to Fox, the Bishop of Durham; who foreseeing it would be besieged, had doubly furnished it with all sorts of Munition, causing the herds of Cattle, & what else might be helpful to the Enemy, to be withdrawn into the greatest strengths. The Earl of Surrey, who was ready, upon all occasions, in Yorkshire, not far from thence, hasted thither, accompanied with good store of Soldiers: the which when King james understood, he withdrew himself, and was pursued by the Earl; who not able to overtake him, sat down before Hayton Castle, one of the strongest Castles between Barwick and Edinburgh; the which he quickly took: and not meeting with any opposition, he returned to Yorkshire, not doing any more; these two actions having produced no matter of Note, but the Preservation of One Castle, and the winning of Another. At this time came Pedro d' Aiala, a man of praiseworthy conditions, to Henry; being sent Ambassador from Ferdinand, and Isabel, King, and Queen of Castille. The pretence of his Embassy was, to compound the differences between Henry, and the King of Scotland: but the true cause was to negotiate a marriage between Katherine, their second daughter, and Prince Arthur. My opinion is; that these two wise Princes were cautious of entering into a business of this nature, till by this peace they might see Henry's state settled: for considering him to be a New King, they did not a little weigh the machinations of an Impostor, which being grounded upon the appearances, though but of a False name, were upheld by the King of Scotland; who if he should forsake him, they would soon vanish. Henry willingly embraced the Offer, being no way inclined to the unprofitable wars with Scotland; by the cessation whereof, two great advantages were to redound to him: the one; he would unkennel Perkin from out the Kingdom, with hopes to get him into his power; or else, that, wanting that leaning stock, he might easily end the business Himself: the other; his desire to reign in Peace, being weary of so many molestations, which rising one in the neck of another, had always troubled him. So as agreeing to whatsoever d' Aiala should treat of (his Honour, and all wherein it might be concerned, always preserved) he suffered him to go into Scotland: where having rough-cast the business, and persuaded the King to listen to Peace, (for his endeavours were seconded by the Counsel, who favoured England) he writ to Henry to send some discreet man, who, together with Him, might end the business with the Commissioners of Scotland. The King gave his Commission to Fox, Bishop of Durham, who was then at Norham, and sent him. When they met together in jedworth they could not agree, by reason of many difficulties that arose: Henry demanded to have Perkin delivered up unto him; and james could not do it, without a great aspersition to his Honour: for, though he knew he was but a juggler, yet having called him the Duke of York, made war in his name, and married him to a near kinswoman of his own, the doing of it would injure his own Faith and Reputation. On Henry's behalf, was likewise demanded satisfaction for the Loss he had suffered, and the Restitution of such Booty as had been taken from England; which was impossible to be had: the booty was dispersed amongst the Soldiers; and the King had not of his Own wherewith to give satisfaction for the Losses suffered: it was more possible for the one to suffer the Loss, then for the other to Repay it. But all of them being met together with a Desire of Peace, 'twas easy to find a way to accommodation; wherefore leaving off the Treaty till another time, they agreed on a Truce, upon condition that Perkin should be dismissed Scotland. The Kings were here withal contented: Truce working the same effect. King james, calling Perkin to him, showed him; that, according to his promise, he had done what lay in His power for him; which He had not correspondently done, in any thing he promised: for having made him believe, he had a Party in England, not so much as one man had appeared to side with him after Two attempts made: that he (the King) had together with his person hazarded his Kingdom to a perpetual war: The Scots would none of it; neither would his Occasions permit it: that he had reason to complain of none but of Himself, who in a business of so great importance, had not cast up his accounts aright: that the Emperor, Archduke, Duchess of Burgundy, and the King of France, had been faulty both to Himself, and Him, that he could not do all of Himself, whilst they, far from Danger, looked on from safe places, without either damage or expense: though this were a sufficient cause, yet should it not have been of force enough to have made him change his former resolution, had there been any one that would have acknowledged him for the Duke of York, as there was none that would acknowledge him for so much as an English man: He would no farther examine his Genealogy, nor make himself Judge of another's pretences whilst there is not any one that dreams, much less believes him to be Son to Edward the fourth: that he had given him for wife a Noble Lady, his near kinswoman, to the end the Scocs might be moved to favour him, and the English might take courage to own him; and if the second design which depended on Him, (Perkin) did not succeed well; the first which depended on Him (the King) failed not: that his Kingdom would have Peace; which they could not have so long as He stayed in it: that therefore it behoved him to be gone; for having denied to Deliver him up to the King of England, as was by the said King Demanded, he could not deny to send him out of Scotland; which should he not do, it would be contrary to the interests of One of them, and repugnant to the affairs of the Other: He told him; Times did alter; so as if he were the man he gave himself out to be, it was impossible but the Time would bring the Truth to light: that though Fortune were Powerful, yet was she not able to prevail against a certain Truth; if therefore his Pretence were such, he could not want Friends, and Furtherers; if otherwise, it behoved him to look to himself, and to put on apparel fitting his condition. Perkin, though convinced, seemed not to be so; casting all his bad success upon the Averseness of Fortune. And assuring the King, he would never be unmindful of the favour he had received from him, he embarked himself together with his Wife, and such whose desperate condition necessitated them to follow him, in three ships which the King gave him, and made for Ireland, for he had no hopes in Flanders, by reason of the new friendship between the Archduke and Henry. The Cornish men understanding that he was come into Ireland, entreated him to come over to them; professing their obedience, their Lives, and Livelihoods, for the advancing of his pretences to the Crown. They who were taken Prisoners in the last Battle, were returned home; having ransomed themselves at small rates from such as had taken them: and the King's clemency had wrought contrary effects in them, making them more enraged; for they did not interpret it as proceeding from Kindness, but Fear: so as falling upon new conceits, believing that all the other shires would follow them, they received Perkin with great applause; who Landed there with four little Barks; in September, having with him not above a Hundred and Forty men. Three Thousand of the Cornish presented themselves before Him in Bodmin all armed: from whence he sent forth a Declaration under the name of Richard the fourth, King of England, promising great matters for the ease of the present Tyrannical government. He had with him Three chief Counselors come with him; a broken Mercer, a Tailor, and a Scrivener: Secretary Frion had left him, when he saw none appear for him in England: these three, seconded by the rest, were of opinion, the first thing which was to be done, was to win some good Town, which might make for his Safety and Reputation, and might encourage the rest. They pitched before Exeter, which being a great and rich City, the hope of Booty invited other to come unto Perkin. They made fair promises to the Citizens; amongst which, That King Richard would make their City a new London, in recompense of their Fidelity, and for their being the First that did acknowledge him for their King: but wanting Artillery to force them, bare words were not sufficient to persuade them. The City sent news of the siege to the Court, and demanded succour; the which Perkin feared, and therefore did all he might to make himself Master of it before the succour could come: He assaulted it by Scaling Ladders, and set fire on one of the Gates, endeavouring to enter by one way or other; but the walls being well defended, the fire quenched, and many of the Assaillants slain, the danger passed over. The King, when he heard of Perkins arrival, and that he had besieged Exeter, was exceeding glad, hoping to free himself from rather a Troublesome then Dangerous molestation. He suddenly dispatched away forces to relieve it under the Conduct of the Lord Chamberlain, accompanied by the Lord Brooke, and Sir Rice ap Thomas; with directions that they should make it be given out that he was following himself in Person. But the Lords that lived in those parts, knowing they should do an acceptable service, if they should come into the field unrequested, assembled many troops. The Earl of Devonshire, with his Son, and the chief Gentlemen of the County on the one side; and the Earl of Buckingham on the other; so as being joined together before the Chamberlain began to march, they advertised the King of what they had done, desiring to receive his commands. Perkin, understanding these preparations, raised his siege and went to Taunton, though the Cornish did much encourage him, promising not to leave him whilst they had a drop of blood in their bodies. But, were it either through fear, or that Wariness had taught him not to trust to such promises, he would be gone; having about seven Thousand men with him, and seeming howsoever to be courageous: But forsaking all these the next night he fled, with Threescore and Ten horse, to Beaulieu; where with some of them he took Sanctuary. The King, hearing of his flight, sent five hundred Horse after him, fearing lest he might escape away by Sea; but finding he had taken Sanctuary, they used no other violence, but to keep a good Guard over him till they should receive new Commands. The troops which remained in Taunton, yielded themselves to the King's mercy; who pardoned them all, save some Few, which being the most seditious amongst them, were put to death. And because the Lady Gordon, wife to Perkin, was left by him in Cornwall, at Saint Michael's Mount, as in a safe place, the King sent to take her from thence; not so much out of Civility to so Noble a Lady, as fearing lest she might be with Child; which should she have proved, it might have been a new occasion of farther trouble: but it was God's goodness to them both that she was not. She was with all possible Honour received in Exeter; the King did much compassionate her excellent Beauty, which, deserving a true Prince, was fall'n into the hands of a cheating Impostor, whom she notwithstanding loved, as not believing him to be so. He sent her to the Queen, and assigned her a good Pension, the which she enjoyed during his life, and many years after. He made a solemn entry into Exeter, where having thanked the Citizens for their Loyalty, he took off his sword he wore, and gave it to the Major, with power to have it carried before him. He sent express Messengers to the Sanctuary, to Perkin, with promise of Pardon, who seeing himself destitute of all hopes of safety, yielded himself; and coming forth of Sanctuary, put himself into their hands; and was brought to the Court, but not to the King's Presence, though ofttimes, for Curiosities sake, he would see him out of the Gallery window. Divers Commissioners were named to proceed against such as had sided with Perkin; who were Punished with Pecuniary mulctes: the world not being deceived in their opinion, that he was better satisfied to let the Purses blood, than the Veins. The Scorn and Mockery which Perkin received from the Courtiers, and from such as ran to see him, as if he had been a Monster, would have been a greater punishment to a man of Honour then a Thousand Deaths. When he came to London, he was led on Horseback through all the City, to the Tower, and from thence brought back again to Westminster; suffering by the way a world of opprobrious and injurious Language. For his greater ignominy, they led another bound near unto him, who was Farrier to the King's stables, and who, next to the three abovenamed, having been one of his chief Counselors, had in his running away put on the habit of an Hermit, hoping to escape better thereby, then by Sanctuary: but being known, taken, and brought to London, he was hanged, after he had accompanied his New Master in this Procession. Perkin, upon examination, declared at full his whole Genealogy; his Father, Mother, Grandfathers, Uncles, Cousins, their Occupations, & Country; his voyages, together with many other superfluous things: concealing, or not setting down in writing, what was most Essential; as, that his Father was a Jew; that he himself was born in London, held at the Font by King Edward; and the Duchess of Burgundy her practices. He confessed his going to Portugal; but not, that he was sent by Her: In like manner he confessed his journey to Ireland. Whereupon the Confession, being first written with his own hand, and afterwards Printed, did not satisfy the People's curiosity; since they saw the name of the aforesaid Duchess (the chief Actor in this Comedy) purposely concealed. But the King would not irritate her any farther, thinking it sufficient punishment for her to be so diversely spoken of as she was; together with her own vexation, that her inventions not succeeding should be made evident to the world. The Civil wars whereof I write, aught to end with the death of Richard the 3. without any further progress: but the fire thereof though quenched, having left hot ashes; and caused the alterations of those two Impostors, Symnell and Warbeck; it was requisite for me to write This life likewise, though with intention to end it (according to the Object, and Title propounded to myself) with the Imprisonment of the Later of the two; the last exhalation of all these Heats: But it would have misbecome me to have left it abruptly off (there remaining so Little of it) without discovering the fountains head from whence the Kings of Scotland derive their lawful succession to the Crown of England; and without setting down the punishment of Warbeck, and of the Earl of Warwick, the last Male of Plantagenets race, whose death freed the Kingdom from Pretenders. I will then proceed, with the greatest Brevity that may be. The truce between England and Scotland was no sooner made, but that an unexpected accident happened, which had well nigh broke it, and turned all things to their former troublesome condition. The Castle of Norham is parted from the confines of Scotland by the river Tweed: so as neighbourhood having caused conversation and friendship between some young men of Scotland, and of England, the young men of Scotland had wont to pass over the River, and come to drink and sport with those of Norham: the Soldiers of the Garrison growing mistrustful of this custom, (their grudges not being totally extinguished by the Truce) did not think their coming proceeded from Friendship, but out of a desire to pry into the Fortifications; whereupon falling first to Words, and then to Blows, the Scotchmen by the disadvantage of place, and odds in number, were hardly treated; and some of them were slain. King james, taking this as done purposely to injure Him, dispatched away an express Herald to complain thereof; and, in case the King should not give good satisfaction, to denounce War. Henry, who minded nothing but his quiet, answered; That he was sorry for the Accident, which he neither knew of, nor did allow of: that he would inquire into the Actors of it, and give them such punishment as there should be no occasion to break the Truce. But, time passing on, and nothing done, james, thinking this was but his Dissembling, with intention that Delay working Forgetfulness, might exempt the faulty from Punishment; was more offended then formerly: and certainly, somewhat of mischief would have happened, had not the Bishop of Durham, who was Lord of Norham, wisely taken order in it. For, knowing that the injury was done by His men, he wrote in so civil a manner to james about it, as that he rested satisfied, and desired the Bishop to come unto him, that they might treat upon the present occasion, and upon certain other things that concerned both the Kingdoms. The Bishop acquainted Henry with this, who gave him leave to go: he therefore went to the Abbey of Melrosse where the King then was; who at their first meeting complained of the injury done. The Bishop answered; that could not be called an injury, where there was no intention of Offending: He confessed the too much Rashness of his men occasioned by misfortune; not out of any intention to offend Him: the offence, (if any there were) must needs proceed, either from the King, or the Garrison; not from the King; for he was not of such a nature; which if he were, it was not likely he would make a Truce, to Break it immediately, without any Advantage or Occasion: nor did it proceed from the Soldiers, who were sure to be Punished for it: a chance, unthought of, caused by suspicion, could not be termed an Injury; not, that he did not confess the Author's Guilty of it; but with the Distinction allowed of by the Laws, between Accidental, and Premeditated faults: that, as the Later were worthy of severe Punishment, so were the Other of Clemency and Pardon; obtainable upon request from so generous a Prince as was His Majesty. The King being pacified, said; He pardoned the offence, in respect of the Friendship contracted, the Continuance whereof he desired. And then, drawing him aside, pursued to say; His desire was to have a Long and Good peace: the which if Henry likewise desired, the true way to effect it would be, by henry's giving him for wife his Eldest daughter Margaret; for that thereby, the friendship between the two nations would be perpetual: that this was the reason why he had desired him, to come into Scotland, hoping that by his wisdom he might bring the business to a good end. The Bishop, after having modestly answered for what concerned Himself, promised him all the Furtherance his service could do him, in effecting his desire. Being returned to England, he acquainted Henry with the King of Scotland's desire, wherewith King Henry was much pleased. The business being long debated in Counsel, the match was agreed upon, so as Peace might precede it; which was done; Peace being concluded during the lives of the two Kings, and for one Year after: and the Marriage was to be celebrated, but not Yet; the Bride, who was born the 29. of November, 1689. being too young. Charles the eighth King of France, died this year, on the 7. of April; whose Funerals were with great pomp celebrated in London; the King being very sorrowful for his death, as calling to mind the Favours he had received from him. Perkin was this mean while in Prison, but so carelessly looked unto, as, cozening his Keepers, he made an Escape. Not knowing 1498. whether to fly for safety, being followed, and diligently sought for, he returned to London, & presented himself before the Prior of the Monastery of Bedlam, a man of great esteem, desiring he might be received into that Sanctuary; the Prior acquainted the King with it, desiring him to pardon his life: the Counsel were, for the most part of a contrary opinion; desirous that he should be taken from the Sanctuary and executed, so to end their fears; but the King, at the Prior's intercession, pardoned him his life; being contented that he should stand in the Pillory, from whence he was brought with Irons upon his feet to Westminster yard, where he again read his former Confession, the which he likewise did at Cheapside. He was again put into the Tower to be better looked unto, but he could not forbear relapsing into his former error. For, growing great with four of his Keepers, who were servants to Sir john Digby, Lieutenant of the Tower, and making them believe he was the true Duke of York, he so far prevailed with them, as that they persuaded the Earl of Warwick to escape away with Perkin; which by their means he easily might do, when they should have killed the Lieutenant, and taken from him his Keys, Monies, and best Movables. But the plot was discovered, and he again put over to Commissioners. At this time an other Earl of Warwick appeared in Kent, in imitation 1499 of Lambert Symnell. Lambert took upon him the person of the Earl of Warwick, by the direction of a Priest; and Ralph Wilford (for so was this second supposititious Earl called) by the direction of an Augustine Friar named Patrick: but this was soon ended; for the Friar puffed up with a foolish confidence, and believing that businesses of this nature ought to be fomented in the Pulpit, he by inciting the People destroyed the building before the Groundwork was laid; so as they were both taken; Wilford was executed, and the Friar, in respect of his Habit, was condemned to perpetual imprisonment. This accident gave the King occasion, to rid the true Earl of Warwick out of the world: whereupon it was thought that Perkins first flight, and this his second endeavour to do the like, were wrought by His cunning; he giving way to the First, that he might put Perkin to death; and stirring up means to plot the Second, so to rid his hands of the Earl, and Perkin, both at once. But, howsoever it was, Perkin being convinced of this second business, and judged to die, was hanged at Tyburn; where, by word of mouth, he confessed his Imposture. The rest, who were involved in the same fault, suffered likewise with him. And Warwick, being accused before the Earl of Oxford (who, for this occasion was made High Constable of England) to have conspired together with Perkin, against the State and Person of the King, being proved guilty by his own Confession, was beheaded upon Tower-hill. And thus in him ended the Male Line of the Plantagenets. This caused the King to be blamed, and hardly thought of, as having no reason to condemn him: for, having been Prisoner from the Ninth year of his age till the Twenty-fourth, and always in fear of Death, he was kept in so great Ignorance, that he did not know a Duck from a Capon; and therefore so little capable of the fault, that he was altogether incapable to Dream of it: and his Confessing it, was out of a belief he was persuaded to, that by so doing he should be pardoned. Henry endeavoured to lay the cause of this death upon the King of Spain, showing his Letters, wherein he said; He could not resolve to marry his Daughter to Prince Arthur: since as long as the Earl of Warwick lived, he was not certain of the Kingdom's succession: which might be a reason of State, but not of Justice; in so much as God would not give a Blessing to that match; the which that virtuous Princess, Katherine, Knew very well; for Prince Arthur dying shortly after, and she being repudiated by King Henry the Eight after Twenty years' marriage, she said. It was no wonder if God had made her Unfortunate in her Marriages, since, they were sealed with Blood: meaning thereby, the Death of this Earl. The King, though he were no longer subject to the Apparitions which the Duchess of Burgundy had raised up by her Enchantments in the Transformation of People, yet was he not free from Influences common to other men; the Plague raged so terribly in London, that it forced him to quit the Town; and afterwards by reason of its Universal dispersing of itself over the whole Land, to go over to Calais; together with the Queen. The Archduke Philip, hearing of his being there, sent Ambassadors to him, to congratulate his Arrival, and to know if he would be pleased that he Himself should come to visit him: upon condition notwithstanding that he might be received in some Open place; not for that he durst not Trust himself in Calais, or in what ever other Town; but for that having refused to speak with the King of France, within any Walled place, he would not by this Difference give him any occasion of Offence; nor that the example might prove prejudicial to him in the future for any thing that might happen either with the same King, or with any other. The Ambassadors were graciously received, and the Condition fairly interpreted, and St. Peter's Church, not far from Calais, was appointed for the place. He likewise sent Ambassadors to the Archduke, who appeared at Mass in the midst between them, all of them kneeling upon the same cushion. As he was coming towards Calais, the King went out to meet him; and he alighted suddenly from Horseback, as if he would have held his stirrup: the King likewise alighted, and, having embraced him, led him to the Church which was appointed for their parley. The causes which brought this Prince thither, were two; his own Good nature, for that he had offended him by Protecting an Impostor; which fault though it was not His (he being then a Child) yet was it the fault of his Counsel, depending upon the Duchess Margaret's passion: so as he omitted nothing whereby to give the King satisfaction: the other; the Advise of his Father, and father in Law, who counselled him to make firm friendship with Henry, for the advantage of the Low-countries, and for his own Safety against the Violences of France; but most for that they both hating that King (which was Lewis the Twelfth, who succeeded Charles the Eighth) they hoped for many Advantages by his Friendship. The Archduke failed not to use all the art he could, though by nature he was not given to Dissembling: terming him his Father, his Protector, his Leaning-stock. The things agreed on between them were; the Confirmation of the former Treaties, and two reciprocal Marriages; the one, of the Duke of York, the King's Second Son, with the Archduke's Daughter; the other, of Charles, the Archduke's Eldest Son, with Marry, the King's Second Daughter: but all of them being either Children, or Infants, these marriages ensued not, but did evaporate through Time and Interest. The Archduke was hardly gone, when the King of France sent the Governor of Picardy, and the Bailiff of Amiens to visit Henry, acquain thing him with his Victories, together with his getting of the Duchy of Milan, and his imprisonment of Lodowick Sforza, the Duke thereof. The Plague being, by this time ceased, Henry returned to London, well satisfied with the Testimony he had received, of how good esteem he was held by the confining Princes. At the same time jasper Pons, a Spaniard born, a learned, and well bred man, came into England, being sent by Pope Alexander the Sixth, upon the occasion of the year of Jubilee; for since they only received the benefit thereof, who went to Rome, he thought it fit that it should be commuted for by Remote countries, the inhabitants whereof could not make so Long a journey: in so much as they staying at Home, might receive the same indulgences which those did that went on Pilgrimage to Rome, if they would give a certain sum of money to be employed in the wars against the Turks, whose advancing Hungary, Germany, and Italy, did much apprehend. This man did so wisely negotiate this of fair, as he thereby got a great sum of money, without any manner of grudging or murmuring, save against the King's Person; who being naturally given to Extort from his People, it was thought he would not have suffered these moneys to have been gathered, had not he Himself had a share therein. An opinion which was known to be false in the time of julius the Second; who making it a difficult business to grant Prince Henry a Dispensation to marry Katherine, who had been wife to his brother Arthur, Cardinal Adrian de Corneto, who endeavoured the obtaining of it, alleged amongst the rest of the merits of King Henry, his Father, that he had not pretended to share in the moneys raised by Pons in that kingdom. Neither was there any dissimulation used in this, by Alexander, at least there Appeared none: for he propounded this war in the Public Consistory, in the presence of as many Emssadours as were then resident in that Court; with design to set upon the Turkish territories in Three several places: in Thracia; by the Hungarians, Bohemians, and Polanders: in Greece, by the French and Spaniards; and at Constantinople by him Himself, accompanied by the King of England, and the State of Venice: and he sent Nuntios to All Princes, that they would join their Forces and Monies according to their Abilities, in so pious a work. The Answer which the King gave to Pons, was; That he was ready to Accompany his Holiness, but that it was impossible for him to do it in that manner; the remote Distance of his country would put him to Double the charge of any of the rest: that the Kings of France, and Spain, were first to be made Friends; which if it should not be effected, all other designs would prove but vain: that when they should be made friends, 'twas they that best might accompany him, as being Nearest him, which if they should Refuse to do, He would wait upon him, Himself, not considering either Expense, or other incommodity: upon Condition he might have some Cities upon the Seaside in Italy, delivered into his possession, to make use of what ever chance might happen. This answer, and, it may be, the Like of other Princes, made this undertaking vanish away to Nothing; when the Proposition was such as might very well have been effected. Cardinal Morton, who was likewise Archbishop of Canterbury, and Chancellor of England, died this year. We have spoken of him formerly. He was a man of great Integrity, yet somewhat given to grippleness, which made him be ill thought of, for it was believed he had nourished in the King his humour of Impositions. But, time proved the Contrary; and had he left no other laudable memory behind him, his being the First agent in the uniting of the two Roses, is a merit whereby to render him Glorious to all Posterity. john, Earl of Lincoln, (he who was slain at the battle of Stoke) left his brother Edmund, Earl of Suffolk, heir to his Humour, and his Misfortune: in so much as calling to mind that he was Son to Elizabeth, who was sister both to Edward and Richard, he thought he might be as bold under This King, as he had been under the Other two his Uncles. He had slain a man; in such a manner notwithstanding, as the Circumstances did not Aggravate the fault. Henry gave him his Pardon: but so, as he was to pass all the course of Law, and Justice, and to appear before the judges, and receive Sentence of Condemnation. This manner of proceeding against him did so touch him to the quick, as reputing the Favour that was showed him, Ignominy, he suddenly left the Land, and went into Flanders, to his Ant Margaret: at which though the King was offended, yet was he resolved to apply Lenitive salves, giving order to his Agents in those parts to offer him his Pardon at the very First; so as he would return; knowing that Despair in banished men begets thoughts in them of Little service to Themselves, and of much Trouble to Others. It succeeded according to his imagination; for accepting the Pardon, he returned to England; the Duchess not opposing him therein, either for that she thought his Genius inferior to the Kings; or else that she was satisfied that in Perkins public Confession, her name was concealed. But arrogant and proud natures (such as was that of this Earl) leading men into Dangers, brought this man at Last to his Ruin, under Henry the Eighth. The match between Prince Arthur, and the Infanta Katherine of 1501 Spain, which had been treated on for the space of seven years; received this year its maturity; the King her Father sending her, nobly attended into England. The tediousness of this negotiation proceeded from Both parties: for the two Kings being endued with equal wisdom, before the establishing of the Affinity, would see each others fortune established, the Infanta had for her Portion 200000 Ducats, without any covenant of Restitution either to Herself, or her Family; and in lieu thereof she had set out for jointure, the third part of the Principality of Wales, of the Duchy of Cornwall, and of the County of Chester: and if she should come to be Queen, she was to have as much as any other Queen before her had had. The marriage was solemnised in Paul's: the Bridegroom was Fifteen years of age; the Bride, Eighteen. The Festivals being ended, they returned to keep their Court at Ludlow in Wales; but their abode there, was but for while: for the young Prince died there, on the second day of April in the year 1502. five months after he was married; having lived 15. Years, 6. months, and 13. Days. Nothing more is to be said of him: Authors write nothing of him; since he lived not long enough to be known. All that is related of him, is: That being naturally given to study, he was learned beyond his Age, and the Condition of a Prince. This his death did much molest the King: the Infanta Katherine was left upon his hands; and if Prince Henry were to marry Another wife; he was to find out a second Jointure; a thing repugnant to the merit of State, and to his Frugal honour: whereupon, resolving to marry him to the same Katherine, he wrote concerning it, to Spain and Rome. Ferdinand was contented; but he met with Difficulties, in procuring a Dispensation from the Pope, and in getting his Sons goodwill; who, though he was then but Twelve years old, had courage enough to oppose his Father therein a Good while. It proved an unfortunate marriage: miserable Changes, and Troubles arose from the Divorce which thereupon ensued. The marriage of the King of Scots with Princess Margaret, which was treated of some years passed by the means of Bishop 1503 Fox, was celebrated this year; which together with the preceding year, was remarkable for two Marriages, and two Deaths: for the marriage of Prince Arthur, and his Death, the Preceding year; and for the marriage of the King of Scotland, and the Death of Queen Elizabeth, this Present year: the Queen dying in Childbed; and the Child dying likewise, not long after. This marriage was published in London, in january, for which Te Deum was sung in Paul's, and great Joy was had in the City. The cause of this long Dclay was by reason of the Princess her tender age; who at the Consummation thereof, which was in August, was not above Fourteen years old, Besides; many of the Counsel had opposed it; for if the Second Prince should die as did the First, England was to fall under Scotland; which they much abhorred: but the King cleared this opinion; for if it should fall out as was proposed the clean Contrary was like to happen: the King of Scotland would live in England; the Lesser being to give way to the Greater: which would not have happened, if this Princess should have been married to France, and the succession should have fallen to her Children. Every one being satisfied with this reason, there was not any that opposed it. And this is the match which hath given the lawful succession of England to the Kings of Scotland, which hath happened without any opposition, in these our days. The King now finding himself at quiet on all sides, his Neighbours being his Friends, and having extinguished all Intestine broils, he fell to be exceeding avaricious: so as those virtues, which placed before in a Benign aspect, gave forth happy beams, were by the Interposition of this vice found to be in the shadow of a prodigious Eclipse. Princes meet easilier with fitting Ministers for what is Bad, then for what is Good. Henry met with two pernicious instruments who Nourishing Covetousness in him, did Increase it in him by unjust means, and by drawing blood from the Purse-veins of Thousands of Innocent people. These were Edmund Dudley, and Richard Empson; the first being borne a Gentleman, did by his wickedness obscure the splendour of his Blood: the other, being the Son of a Shoemaker, made good, that from Filth and Mire, nothing but Pollution and Stinch can be expected. They were admitted to the Court, being both of the same profession, Lawyers; and they by alike means got alike Preferment, being Both made Privy Counselors: so as their Ambition being satisfied, their Avarice remained to be so likewise; which is the drift of Ambition, in Basely-minded men: but because Ingenuity and Justice, though they may nourish the moderate, cannot satisfy the Insatiate, they would not make use of Them, but of their Contraries; that from the Rivers of Gold which sprung up in the King's Coffers, they might derive some Channels of the same metal, which might run into Their Purses, at the charge of King and Subject. The Laws, at that time, either by reason of the Civil Wars, or through the Negligence of the judges, were either Forgotten, or grown out of Use; and the Patrimony of the Crown, enjoyed by many, by virtue of Long-Leases, being become almost as good as Fee-simple to the Enjoyers, moved the King to look into them; and these two, who were thought the most Learned, and best Practised in the Law, were by him chosen to this purpose, and had full Authority given them. But there was never any so Good or Wholesome Law, which hath not been profaned by Malice and Corruption. They raised up many Accusers; and the Accused being put in Prison, and there kept (the time appointed for their justification, being maliciously Prorogued) they were enforced to Purchase their Liberties, with Great sums of Money: Others, being cited by Them, or their Delegates, the usual course of Law not being observed, were Condemned; they abounded in False Witnesses, and False Pretences, whereby they impoverished the wealthy: Wards was not suffered to enter upon their Lands without vast disbursements: Such judges, as, swayed by Integrity, resisted Their wills, were either better Taught by Imprisonment, or Ruined by Amercements: Laws which had at sundry times been enacted by Parliament, more for Terror then Punishment, (a great part whereof were Repealed too) were without any manner of remission, rigorously put in Execution: in so much that the King himself, being a little before his Death told by conscionable men; what Injustice had been done; he left it in his Will, that such as had unjustly suffered should have Ample Satisfaction made them; Which he Himself ought to have done in his Life time; but did not: for when Covetousness hath once taken possession of a man's heart, the Offices of Conscience have no Power; the Law of the Flesh which opposeth the Law of the Mind, doth captivate us under the Law of Sin; where withal being ensnared we cannot get loose again. I recount not All that is written to this effect; I will only relate One passage, which may serve for all the Rest. The King as he came to Henningham, a Castle belonging to the Earl of Oxford (one whom he was wont to make use of, both in War and Peace) he was there received and feasted with much Splendour, and Magnificence: all that, by whatsoever title, held any Land of the Earl, came at that time to give their Attendance on him; of the which many were Gentlemen, many Yeomen: these and the Gentlemen likewise, wore, all of them, the Earl's Blue-coats, and Feathers in their hats, of the Earls colours: for the rest of their apparel, they were all richly clad, every man according to his Condition: when he King came forth, they placed themselves in two Rows, making a gallant show in the Great Hall: He, looking wistly upon them, asked the Earl, if they were All his Servants? who smiling, answered; No; for than he should be thought an Ill husband; but that they were all his Tenants, who were come, upon this occasion, to wait upon His Majesty: the King having thanked him for his Good Entertainment, said unto him; that the Report of hospitality came short of the Truth; but that he could not suffer his Laws to be broken in his Presence, without resenting it: and that his Attorney general should talk with him about it. The Lords were then to give but a Certain number of Liveries, or Blew coats; which Law whether it stand still in Force, or no, I know not. This business cost the Earl Ten Thousand Pounds (for for so much was he compounded with the King's Officers) besides the Charge he had been at, in his Entertainment, which was very Great; and which might have Freed him from the Punishment he was run into, had the King's Gratitude been answerable to his Covetousness, in emptying the purse of one of the Noblest and Best deserving subjects he had. We related a little before, how the Earl of Suffolk returned to England, where he tarried all this time, the King treating him Well, and he not having any occasion of Discontent: but, were it his own Misfortune which would be his Overthrow, or the Expenses he had been at, at Prince Arthur's marriage which had dipped him deep in Debt, or the Hatred he bore unto the King, which could not suffer him to see him reign in Peace; he fled away into Flanders with his brother Richard; to the People's great Discontent, who thought that certainly some great Disorder must ensue thereupon: many of the Nobility being ill affected, and which already began to propose New hopes unto themselves, and to plot Insurrections. The King being accustomed to such like passions, and seeming as if he minded it not, wrote to Sir Robert Curson, Captain of Hams Castle, that, feigning to Rebel, he should pass over into Flanders, to the Earl of Suffolk. He, forsaking his Command, seemed to steal away; he went unto the Earl, who with much joy welcomed him; discovering unto him all his Designs, and who they were that sided with him in England. Curson advertised the King hereof; who imprisoned them, putting the Chiefest of them in the Tower: amongst which, William Courtney, Eldest Son to the Earl of Devonshire, (who, having married Katherine, Daughter to Edward the fourth, was become his Brother in Law) William de la Poole, brother to the Earl of Suffolk; the Lord George Abergavenny, Sir james Tirrell, Sir john Windham, and Sir Thomas Green. The issue was; William Courtney was detained Prisoner during the King's Life: not for that he was Guilty, but, for that, having Relation to the house of York, he might serve as an Instrument, if there should be any design of Troubling the State. William de la Poole was likewise kept Prisoner though not so strictly: Abergavenny and Greene were set at Liberty: Tirrell and Windham were Beheaded: the rest of inferior quality were Hanged. This was that Tirrell, who had his hand in the Death of the two Princes that were smothered in the Tower, by commission from Richard the Third. He came to too good an end; Fire and Torture was not sufficient for him: but he died not for That, 'twas for this Last fault that he suffered death. The Earl was grieved at the punishments his Complices under went; and at the Imprisonment of his Friends and Kindred, who were fallen into this captivity, not for any Fault of His, or of Themselves: but merely out of Suspicion; for otherwise they should have walked the Same way as did the Rest. The King, that Cursen might be the better believed, and that he might the better pursue His Directions, made him, together with the Earl and Others to be proclaimed Traitor at Paul's Cross; but he having no more to do in Flanders, returned almost presently into England; where he was well liked of by the King, but not by the People. Such offices though of Trust, for what concerns the King, are in respect of Others, Detestable. His departure much abated the Earl's courage, who now saw he was Betrayed: he therefore endeavoured to procure help from Foreign Princes; he went into Germany; from thence into France: but his Labours proving Vain, he returned to Flanders, under the protection of the Archduke Philip: which was the Last of his Misfortunes. Many Laws were made in the Parliament, which was this year called; and an Entire Subsidy was given unto the King, who had 1504 no Need of it: he being Rich, Frugal, without War; having no cause to Demand it, nor to have it Granted him. Not herewithal contented, he required a General Benevolence, which brought in Much money unto him; as did also the Alteration of the Mint; for certain coins: the City paid him 5000. Marks for the Confirmation of their Liberties; and Ferdinand paid him Last payment of the Portion: so as all other Casualties, too long to number up, being comprehended, his Extraordinaries did much surmount his Ordinary Revenue; wherewithal his Coffers being filled, he might have been contented: whilst his subjects, who wished him of Another humour, could not alter the Constitution of his Nature. He was much troubled at the Death of Isabella, Queen of Castille, 1505 which happened in the month of November, the year Before; by reason of the Resemblance that was in the Government of their kingdoms, between Ferdinand and Him; both of them reigning in the right of their Wives. And though he never admitted of his Wives Right (having obtained the kingdom under the title of the house of Lancaster, having won it by the Sword, and having it Confirmed unto him by Act of Parliament) yet he could not but fear, that Ferdinand's yielding up the Crown to his Daughter, might by way of Example prejudice Him, and make for his Son Prince Henry: the case was the same, and the formerly alleged reasons were of no weight, in comparison of Natural Extraction; which is to be preferred before all other claims. Isabella left the Administration of the Kingdom to Ferdinand during his life; though jane were the immediate Heir which distasted the Archduke Philip, for being become King of Castille in right of his Wife, he thought he was injured, as being reputed unfit to govern without his Father in Laws Assistance, and superintendency: he pretended the Mother could not dispose thereof to the Prejudice of the Daughter; that the Authority of Predecessors ended with their Deaths; else seldom or very Late, would their Heirs come to Reign: that the Reverence and Respect to Parents, did not amongst Private men, bereave their Children of enjoying their Private Inheritances; much less ought it to do so with Kings, for what concerns Kingdoms: that the government of Wives, and all that belonged unto Them, belonged to their Husbands, when they were of Years, as He was; the interest of Children that are Heirs, belonging to their Fathers, who are nearer in degree unto them then are their Grandfathers. He took offence at his being Forbidden to come into Spain, without his Wife, as knowing the cause thereof: for he kept her from the sight of All men, the more to conceal her Infirmity, (which was a spice of Lunacy) so as it was believed he would not Bring her along with him, lest her weakness being made Known, might not give force to the Will: wherefore he resolved to carry her thither the sooner, pretending to take Possession of what Nature, and the Laws, had given him: for having married upon hopes of that Kingdom, it would be imputed to Recklessness in him, if it now being Fallen to him, he should not obtain it. But, Ferdinand, having called together the States of Castille, and caused the Will to be read, joan was sworn Queen, and Heir to her Mother; Philip was sworn King as her Husband; and Ferdinando as Administrator. The Queen's disabilities sufficiently appearing, they entreated Ferdinand, that He would Govern them as he had done Before; in which respect All the Kingdom concurred, except some of the Nobility, who had greater hopes under a New Young King then under an Old and Ancient one; who being sufficiently informed of their Humours, knew they were given rather to Tyrannize, then to be contented with Respect from their Inferiors. These Disputes caused great jealousies on all sides; specially in Ferdinand: for, Philip following the advice of his Father, the Emperor, he feared lest if they should happen to corrupt Consalvo (as they had endeavoured it) they might take from him the Kingdom of Naples: wherefore he recalled 2000 Spaniards from that Garrison, under pretence of sending them into Africa, and making the Germans be dismissed, he weakened the forces thereof, that he might have the less cause of fear. Amongst divers rumours which were spread abroad to discredit him with the castilians, one was; that he intended to marry joan, who was thought to be Daughter to the last King Henry who had been a Competitrress for the Crown with his Wife Isabel; that so he would undertake the Defence of Her claim, which formerly he had oppugned, and thereby make himself King of Castille: which he never Dreamt of, 'tis true; he pretended the claim of a Father, to whom the Guardian-ship of children under Age belongs, of which number though joan were none, in respect of Years, yet in respect of her weakness, she was to be accounted one: The very self same thing was granted in the Kingdom of Navarre, to john, King of Arragon, this man's Father. The rumour of his intention of marriage was not vain; for he Himself had caused it to be spread abroad, from the first Beginning of the distastes, that he might thereby mortify Philip; for in case she should have any Sons, he deprived him of all the Kingdoms wherein He had any Propriety, especially of Naples: He pretended likewise to the Kingdom of Granada, or at least to Half of it, having gotten it with his Wife. These conceits proceeded from the Dislike he had, that during the Life of Isabel, Maximilian and Philip should make Peace with the King of France, without His knowledge: & that of the Articles, These were some; The Marriage of Claudia, Daughter to Lewis, with Charles, Philip's eldest Son: the investing of Milan upon Lewis and his heirs male, if he had any; and in case he should have none, upon Claudia and Charles; and if Charles should happen to Die, upon Philip's second Son, marrying with the same Claudia, so as willing to pay them with the same coin, he, not making Them acquainted therewithal, made his Peace with Lewis; who gave unto him for wife, Germana de Fois, his sister's Daughter, and by title of Dowry, renouncing unto him that part of the Kingdom of Naples, which belonged unto Him; with this obligation on the other side, that Ferdinand should pay unto Him 700000 Ducats within ten years, for the expenses he had been at in that Kingdom, and should give in Dowry to his Wife 300000. more. A business which incensed Philip, and made him undertake his voyage into Spain. The first contentions begat both Fear and Hope in Henry: Fear; that the Emperor, Arch duke, and King of France joining in League together against Ferdinand, he should not only fall from being Arbitrator between those Princes as till then he had been: but also (to boot with the Prejudice that might redound to Him, by their Confederacy) from the advantage of his friendship with Arragon, which now being left Single, might be to his disadvantage: Hope; for that intending to marry joan, Queen of Naples, Dowager to the last Ferdinand, he believed, that Kingdom would be assigned over to Him, as a Feoffee in Trust; whilst the other two were in contention. There were at this time in Naples two Dowager Queens, the Mother and the Daughter; both of them but young. The first, who was sister to Ferdinand King of Arragon, was second Wife to Ferdinand the first, King of Naples; by whom she had this second joan, who was both Wife and Ant to Ferdinand the Second; for she was sister, by the Father's side, to King Alphonso, who was his Father. Hereupon Henry built his Design. He sent Ambassadors, by way of Compliment, unto them Both; and Katherine, who was Widow to Prince Arthur, being Niece to the One of them, and Cousin to the Other, he gave unto them Letters from Her; giving them particular Instructions to examine the conditions well, and see what, by virtue of such a Match, might be hoped for in that Kingdom: from thence they were to pass into Spain, as they did. But when they returned, he gave over that Design, having learned that she lived merely upon Pensions from Ferdinand, without other Lands or jurisdictions. The advantage he got by this Embassy was, to know how he might keep the friendship both of Ferdinand and Philip, and to free himself from fear of Philip's joining with France, and of the Marriage of Charles, the Son of Philip, to the Daughter of Lewis; as was formerly a greed upon; for Ferdinand's Secretary had secretly treated with the Ambassadors, that the Princess of France being taken from Charles, contrary to the First capitulation, that she might be married to the Duke of Angonlesme, heir apparent to the Crown; their king should give Mary, his Second daughter, for wife to Charles: A business which he was much pleased with, for Charles was the Greatest match of Christendom, being to inherit all that his Father, Mother, and Grandfather possessed: and to this purpose, he endeavoured as much as in himlay, that there should be no breach between them in the future. Amongst so many of their relations, he liked not to hear that Castille desired Philip, and detested Ferdinand, by reason of the great Taxes and Impositions which he put upon them; it being his Own very case: so as, upon the like reason, he thought his Son might be desired and He abhorred; the grievances imposed by Him, much surpassing those of Ferdinand. Those who took part with Philip did much importune him to come into Spain, before Ferdinand should be settled in his pretended 1506 Administration; but he desirous to come thither unexpected, took shipping together with his Wife, in january, when 'twas thought he would not have ta'en his journey till the next Summer. He had hardly quitted the coast of Flanders, when, taken by a sudden tempest his Navy was dispersed upon the coast of England: he himself lighted upon Waymouth, and was brought a shore in a little Frigate: His Counsel would not have had him landed, since by loss of Time, he would miss of his design of coming unexpected unto Spain; but he being sea-sick, would by all means come on shore. The great number of his ships had given an Alarm to the Country, so as many troops of armed men came to Waymouth, not knowing what his Fleet was, nor what he would do: Sir Thomas Trenchard, and Sir john Carew, who were their Leaders, understanding the reason of his coming, desired him that he would rest himself in Sir Thomas Trenchards house till such time as they might advertise the King of his being there; to which he gave way, being certain that otherwise they would not have suffered him to depart. When Henry heard hereof, he sent the Earl of Arundel by way of compliment unto him, and to let him know that he Himself would presently come and visit him. But Philip, fearing, lest, if he should wait his coming, his stay would be too long, resolved to go Himself to Henry, making his Queen come at leisure after him. He was met six miles from Windsor, by Prince Henry; and One mile from thence, by the King: who received him with all terms of Honour and Friendship. He treated with him of the marriage of their Children; and of his own marrying with Margaret the Dowager of Savoy, Philip's sister: he renewed all Confederacies made between them the preceding years which were Then made with him by the name of Archduke Philip, Duke of Burgundy; Now, by the name of King of Spain: they had better success for the English, then had the former, especially in the Fishing-busines; at which the Flemings were much offended: he with much ado obtained the person of the Earl of Suffolk, who lived under the protection of Philip; Henry knew so well how to persuade him, by passing his Word he would not put him to Death, that Philip sent for him into Flanders: the one desiring to have him before the other departed; and the other not to depart, till he were arrived; that it might be believed he had been Enforced to deliver him up. Assoon as the Earl was come and put in the Tower, Philip departed England; and was received in Spain, without any manner of Resistance; Ferdinand totally quitting the Government to him: but he enjoyed it but for a while, for he died soon after. The Englishmen will have it that his death was Prognosticated by the Fall of a golden Eagle, which standing upon the top of Paul's steeple, was blown down by the same wind, which drove him into Waymouth, and broke down a sign in the Churchyard, wherein was a black Eagle. Ferdinand, being called for, and entreated by the Kingdom, returned to the Government thereof; this Death of her Husband, having so oppressed the fancy of the Queen, his daughter, as she was never after good for any thing: not without suspicion, that her Father did not greatly endeavour her Recovery, that so he, of Himself, and without Trouble, might manage the Sceptre of Spain. The Earl of Suffolk being in the Tower, Henry was now freed from all manner of Trouble and Molestation: so as betaking himself to Domestical affairs, he sent Thomas Wolsey (he who was Cardinal, and of so great Power under Henry the eighth) to Maxi milian, to treat of the marriage with the forenamed Dowager of Savoy: but it took no effect by reason of Henrye's indisposition of health which shortly ensued. The marriage of Charles King of Spain, with Mary, daughter to Henry, stirred up some jealousies in Ferdinand: for though He was the first that had mentioned i●…, yet his Son in Law being Dead, and Charles being come to the Crown, he feared he should meet with Two Competitors in the Government; with Maximilian as Grandfather, and Henry as Father in Law; which though neither of them dreamt of, yet did He fear it: but This match had no better effect than had the Other; the tender years of the young couple, and the alteration of affairs in following times broke it quite off. The expectation hereof, nevertheless, made Henry live contented the little while he lived: for having married One of his daughters to the King of Scotland, and the Other to the King of Castille, Duke of Burgundy, he thought himself more safe, then if his Kingdom had been compassed about with a wall of Brass. He, the mean while, began to draw towards his End: the Gout, a disease more Troublesome than Mortal, was the Forerunner of a Distillation, which falling upon his Lungs brought him into a kind of Consumption, which perceiving he began to give himself totally to Pious Works. He set all Prisoners at Liberty, who were in for Debt of not above Forty shillings, he himself paying the Creditors: he 1507 gave Alms in greater measure than he had done formerly: but though he felt great Remorse at the daily complaints made against Empson and Dudley, for their Oppressions; yet did he not seek to Remedy them. His Conscience and his Covetousness wrought contrary effects in him: many for very slight causes were troubled in their Estates and in their Lives: one died in Prison, before his cause was heard; another, being imprisoned for denying to pay what Contrary to the Laws he was adjudged at, was not let out till Henry the eighths' time; and than Empson was put in his place. To make good the usual custom of promising obedience to 1508 New Popes, he sent Sir Gilbert Talbot with two other Ambassadors to Pope julius the second, which he had not formerly done, though he were created in November 1503. They pressed much for the Canonization of Henry the sixth; but could not obtain it for the reason formerly given, in the life of Edward the fourth. Being dismissed by the Pope, they carried the Garter, and Robes of that Order to Guido Ubaldo, Duke of Urbin, whose Father, Frederick, had likewise had it. This Prince sent into England to be installed for him, according to the Institutions of that Order, the Count Balthasar Castillion, he to whom the noblest Courtiers owe so much. The finishing of the Hospital in the Savoy, was one of the last of Henry's actions: he would not alter the name of it, this fabric having been, in former times, the habitation of Peter of Savoy, Uncle to Eleanor, the Wife of Henry the third; by whom Peter of Savoy was created Earl of Richmond: but he resigned the Earldom, when Savoy fell, by inheritance to him. The Lancastrians lived in this house, and King Henry converted it into an Hospital. Besides this, he built three Monasteries for the conventual Friars of Saint Francis order, and three for the Observantines of the same order in divers places. When he knew he he must die he disposed himself thereunto. He had lived almost all his time in Troubles; but always with prosperous and happy success: he found the Kingdom involved in Civil wars, he left it in a settled Peace: his subjects, who were impoverished by the past disorders, were (notwitstanding his Taxations) by reason of his good Government, become Rich: he did not only free the Crown out of Debt, but left it rich in Treasure; his son found in Richmond house, a Million, and eight Hundred Thousand pound sterling; so as he was thought the richest Prince in Europe. He granted out a General Pardon; and ordered by his Last Will and Testament, that all such moneys should be Repaid as had unjustly been levied by his Officers. He died at Richmond, the twenty second day of April, in the year of our Lord 1509 and was buried, by his wife, in the sumptuous 1509 and stately Chapel built by Himself, in the Abbey Church at Westminster. He lived two and Fifty years, and Reigned three and Twenty Years, and Eight months. The Children which he left behind him, were Henry the Eighth his Heir and successor in the Crown; Margaret, Queen of Scotland, from whom the Kings of Great Britain do descend, and the Prince and Princesses of the Electoral house Palatine; and Mary married to Lewis the twelfth, King of France; by whom having no issue, she, after his death, married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, by whom she had Henry Earl of Lincoln, and two Daughters, Frances and Eleanor. The Earl died without issue in his Father's life-time: Frances was married to Henry Grace Duke of Suffolk, and by him had the Lady jane Grace; who being married to Guildford Dudley, son to the Duke of Northumberland, and constrained to call herself Queen, was beheaded in Queen Mary's time: she had by him moreover two Other daughters, Katherine, and Mary; who died without issue. Eleanor was married to Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, by whom she had a daughter, named Margaret; who was married to Henry Stanley, Earl of Derby, and had by him two sons; Ferdinando and William: both of them, in succession one of the other, Earls of Derby. Earl William died this present year 1642. leaving his son james behind him, to inherit his Honours and his Estate. The End of the Second and Last volume of the Civil Wars of England, between the two Houses of York and Lancaster. FINIS