king standing in front of a battle England's Happiness In a Lineal SUCCESSION; And the Deplorable Miseries Which ever attended Doubtful Titles TO THE CROWN, Historically Demonstrated, BY THE Bloody Wars Between the Two HOUSES OF York& Lancaster. LONDON: Printed by H. clerk, for John tailor, at the Globe in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1685. THE PREFACE TO THE READER. THE Wars between the two Houses of York and Lancacaster, present to thy view all the deplorable miseries which it's possible for any Nation to suffer; for, whilst that Quarrel between those two Illustrious Houses lasted, the Kingdom was seldom long at Peace, and therefore no man was ever safe either in Person or Estate: When the House of York prevailed, then those who took part with Lancaster were trampled under foot, and when Lancaster prevailed, then those who were friends to the former were sacrificed to the fury of the later. And their Executions were the most inhuman and Barbarous of any I have ever met withal; for the Conqueror would, in the heat of his fury, lop off the Heads of those of the Vanquished Party, whose misfortune 'twas to fall into his hands, as though they had been but so many Poppies, without affording them the formality of a trial, or the least respect to their Greatness or Honour: By which means, there was such a Prodigious effusion of Noble Blood in England, that had not the monstrous issue been happily stayed by the Healing-Union of the two Houses, in the Persons of Henry and Elizabeth, whereby both Claims were twisted into one, scarce any of it had remained. showing the least kindness, or so much as speaking in favour of the Vanquished Party, was a Crime great enough to ruin those who had either Lands or money to lose, and was often improved to High-Treason. War, at the best, is in itself no desirable thing, in regard it is ever the occasion of much mischief, and therefore Peace is always to be preferred before it; but a Civil War, wherein a Nation is divided against itself, is still more mischievous, and hath a thousand miseries always attending on it, which other Wars are strangers to. In other Wars we weaken our Neighbours, but in this ourselves, by wasting our Wealth and destroying our People, which are our strength; in other Wars we are gainers by Victory, but in this we are losers; he that Vanquisheth having the same cause of Grief in his Victory, as the Vanquished has in his Overthrow: In other Wars, we fight against our Enemies; but in this, our Friends; the Father against the Son, and one Brother against another, as though all Paternal affection and the very sense of Duty were razed out of our Natures; and it is almost incredible to believe, how many Bloody Battels were fought, what Multitudes of Men were slaughtered, how many Treasons and horrid Conspiracies were carried on and perpetrated, how much Noble Blood was spilled, how many Families were ruined, how many Barbarous Executions, how many unreasonable Fines, and perpetual Banishments happened, during this unfortunate War. And yet, as though they were now grown weary of Peace, and tired with that confluence of Happiness and Felicity which they had long enjoyed, as the consequence of it, the late Exclusioners endeavoured, might and main, to involve us in the same confusions again, and bring this Nation into the like, if not far greater and more deplorable, miseries: For the natural consequence of that Audacious Bill, had they been able to have brought the Monster to maturity and perfection, would have proved fatal to England, by opening a way to various pretences, and dividing of us into Parties. When thou hast therefore beholded all the Miseries and Calamities which this History presents to thy view, then consider with thyself, that this is the wretched state whereinto the Factious SHAFTSBITARIANS, those Enemies of the House of YORK, were endeavouring to involve their Native Country; for thou mayst assure thyself, that the same Bill, which should have Excluded our Sovereign from his Rightful Inheritance, would have Excluded England from its long enjoyed Happiness. Nothing sets off the Excellency▪ and Glory of things so much as their Contraries, and therefore my design, in writing this History, is, to make these Calamities, which their various and doubtful Titles to the Crown brought upon the Nation, serve as a foil to set off the happiness, which, in despite of Malice and Faction, we enjoy, in having but ONE CERTAIN and UNDOUBTED TITLE, and that devolved upon a Prince, in whom all the virtues of his Royal Predecessors meet. Thou wilt find this History, peradventure, as pleasant as any thou ever Readest, in regard it affords thee such variety of matter, and relates the particular methods they took in Undermining and Dethroning each other. In the Life of Richard, thou wilt find the ill effects of a Princes coming to the Throne in his Minority, the Insolence of Subjects when they have gotten any advantage of their Prince, the danger which Favourites generally involve those Monarchs into, who indulge them a too great familiarity, and permit them to use their Names and Authorities as a Property only to advance themselves to Wealth and Grandeur, together with the uncertainty of all Sublunary Enjoyments. In the Lives of the two succeeding Henries, we may see the advantages of Courage and Resolution in Princes, and how much it tends to the bettering the State of those Kingdoms over which they Reign: And in the Life of Henry the Sixth, we may inform ourselves of the disadvantages of Softness and want of Courage in Kings, and the opportunity it gives to aspiring Subjects, as well as Foreign Adversaries, together with the various Methods, whereby the House of York, which had been depressed and trodden down by Henry the Fifth, came to raise itself again in his Reign, so as to be able to contend with him for the Crown, who had in himself and his two Predecessors quietly enjoyed it for the space of Fifty eight Years. In the Life of Edward the Fourth, we may see the advantage of educating Princes in the School of Mars, and seasoning their younger years with Feats of War; for at nineteen Years of Age he kept the Town of Calice against King Henry; and at twenty won the battle at Northampton, wherein he took Henry Prisoner: Together with the sickleness of Fortune, in Edward's being thrust from his Throne by his too powerful Favourite, and Henry's being advanced to it from a Prison; And the changeable Humours of the Mobile, who sometimes Adored one and sometimes the other. In Richard the Third, we may see the danger and disquiet that ever attends those Princes who Usurp the Crown without a just Title, and the speed Heaven makes to Revenge the spilling INNOCENT and ROYAL BLOOD. And from the flourishing Condition we find this Kingdom blessed withal, under the Reign of Henry the Seventh, we may learn the happiness and advantage of a Nation's having such a Prince to Rule over them, whose Title to the Crown is so clear, that it is beyond all Exception, as his was, when united with that of his Wives, and thereby leaves no room for any Pretenders whatsoever, unless for such MOCK-PRINCES, and WOULD-BE-KINGS, as Symnel and Perkin. I have endeavoured, throughout the whole course of this History, to relate matter of Fact, just as it was acted in those times which it concerned, as near as I could inform myself, by comparing divers of the best Historians together, and have, to the utmost of my power, rendered the Pretences of both Houses as plain as possible, in hopes that the many miseries, which attended that Unfortunate Quarrel, may serve, at once, to show us their misery and our own happiness, under the Influence of the most Auspicious and Promising Reign of our present Sovereign, James the Second, who derives his Title from the happy Union of the two Houses, whereby that War was ended, and a sure Foundation laid for a lasting and advantageous Peace, whereby the Right of both Houses meet and concentre in him. And so I shall conclude, with my hearty Prayers that the Peace and Tranquillity, which we at present enjoy, may last for ever; And that his Majesty may survive all his Enemies, if there are any such to be found, who are so injurious to themselves, as to be Adversaries to Him, &c. THE HISTORY OF THE Civil Wars Between the two Houses of YORK AND LANCASTER. KING Richard the Second, in whose unfortunate Reign the flamme of this Unnatural and Bloody War, which is the Subject of this History, was first kindled, was the Son of that Brave and Walike Prince, Edward, commonly called the Black Prince, and Grand-Son to Edward the Third, King of England, whom he Succeeded in the Right of his Father, Edward the Black Prince who died before King Edward. He was of such a comely and graceful parsonage, that he is said to be the most Beautiful Prince, that ever wore the English Diadem; he had a Soul Noble and Generous, and his mind was Richly endowed, by God and Nature, with all those Qualifications which were requisite to, or could possibly be desired in, a person of his Birth and Fortunes, so that his Subjects promised themselves abundance of Happiness, under the influence of his Reign; nor would they have been deceived therein, if he had not suffered particular Persons to monopolise his Favour and Affections, to the injury and prejudice of the public. But being strangely infatuated by the smooth and subtle insinuations of his favourites, and enslaved to the humours of his Servants, he was easily prevailed upon to follow their advice, how hurtful and pernicious soever, and hate all Counsel which any way contradicted his Inclinations. So that he gave himself wholly up to the Guidance of those, who making too bold with the goodness of his Nature, and the weakness of his Youth, used his Power and Authority, only as a Property to advance themselves to Wealth and Grandeur. And with a profuse liberality, he bestowed Princely rewards on those whose only merit was a disloyal Silence, or a base and sordid Compliance, contrary to the dictates of their Judgments; the Consequence whereof proved fatal to him, and issued in his utter ruin. And the truth is, his Education was more to be blamed than his Nature, for there appeared in him many good Inclinations, which certainly might have been improved into great abilities and perfections, had they not been prevented by corrupt Flatteries in his Youth, for want of a better fixation under the more solid and aweful Tutorage of his Father, or Grandfather. He was crwoned January the Twenty first, in the Year one Thousand three Hundred and Seventy seven, being not full Eleven years old. No King, that ever Sate on the English Throne, was better beloved by his Subjects than he; nor had any Prince more wise and able Counsellors, several Noble men being appointed to Govern his Person, and Kingdom, during his Minority, which were afterwards reduced to the Person of Thomas Beauchamp Earl of Holland, who was chosen to the Office of Protector, by the Unanimous consent of Parliament. But the King, being rendered by the extravagant Counsels of those, who had insinuated themselves into his Favour, as unapt to be Governed, as his tender Years made him unable to Govern, quickly disliked this choice of the Parliament, and choose for Protector Richard S●rope, whom the Parliament had a little before chosen to be Chancellor; nor was it long ere he disliked and dismissed him also, because he refused to ratify some extravagant Grants, which he had made to several persons of mean and abject Fortunes, and had Loyalty and Courage enough to tell him the inconvenience, and evil consequences thereof; whereat Richard storming, and disdaining to have his Profuseness questioned by an Officer, took the Great Seal from him, and kept it for some time in his own Hands, until he had therewith authorised those Gifts, he had bestowed on his Creatures. Among the many fawning and flattering persons, whose ill advised Counsels precipitated this King into most of those rash and inconsiderate Actions, whereby he lost the love of his Subjects, and gave advantage to his Enemies, the Chief were Alexander Nevil Archbishop of York, Robert Vere Earl of Oxford, Michael pool Earl of Suffolk, Nicolas Bambridge Alderman of London, and Robert Tresillian chief Justice, who, having made the Law and the Seat of Justice a snare to ruin and destroy others, was at last served with the same sauce, by being put to a Shameful and Ignominious death. The first mention we find in History, of the Duke of Lancasters aspiring to the Crown, is an Information given in unto the King, by a certain friar, that the Duke did secretly conspire and plot his death; desiring, that his Information might be kept secret, and not be divulged to any person whatsoever, until he had by convincing Proofs made good the Accusation, and so he might be the more securely and warrantably Attached. Notwithstanding which, the King acquainted two of his Chaplains therewith, and they, suspecting their own safety in regard of the Dukes power and greatness, if they should conceal it and it should afterwards come to his knowledge, persuaded the King to acquaint the Duke therewith, which was presently done, and the Duke being somewhat surprised at this unexpected Discovery, in a most humble manner entreated his Majesty not to believe or give credit to the Accusation, assuring him, that he never entertained so detestable a thought, nor had so horrid and disloyal an intention ever entered his Breast; nor could such a design any way turn to his advantage. For if he should( which God forbid) intend any such thing, it would be impossible for him to effect it, since he should, by so wicked a Parricide, justly fall into the hatred and detestation of all men; and for the better fixing the belief of his innocency in the mind of the King, he offered to prove it by his Sword, as the Custom of those times did allow, and earnestly desired the friar might be put into safe Custody, and if it might stand with his Majesties Good liking, into the Custody of John Holland, a Person, though Brother to the King by the Mothers side, yet absolutely the Dukes Creature in hopes of marrying his Daughter Elizabeth; which being granted, the discovery was effectually stisted, for the friar, the night before it was to have been tried, was murdered by him who had him in Custody. Not long after this, the Duke retired in discontent to a Castle of his own at Pomfret in Yorkshire, and began to raise men, but the Princess of Wales, the Kings Mother, fearing the King might be in some danger, interposed between them, and and by her Mediation composed that difference. After which the Duke of Lancaster laying claim to the Kingdom of Spain, in right of his Wife, and designing to go thither to take Possession of it; the King furnished him with Shipping, Men and Pay for six Months, and so great was his desire of getting rid of him, that at his departure he honoured him like a King, presenting him with a Crown Royal, his Wife being presented with the like by the Queen, both of them being very Rich; many of the Nobility, and Gentry, attended the Duke in this Voyage, and being assisted by the King of Portugal, who had Married one of his Daughters, he Invaded Castile, and took several strong Towns, but at last a Peace was concluded between him and John King of Spain, wherein it was agreed, that King Johns Eldest Son should mary the Lady Catharine, another of the Dukes Daughters, and that the Duke should receive Two hundred Thousand Nobles in hand, and Ten thousand Marks yearly, during the Lives of him and his duchess, in consideration whereof he was to cease all further claim to that Crown. About this time that Lancaster went to Spain, the French King threatened England with a War, having made a vast preparations in order thereunto, which was not then in a very good condition to defend itself, by reason of the disagreement between the King and his People, upon the account of Richards Governing according to the Wills of those who Governed him, and suffering all things to pass under the hands of the Earls of Suffolk and Oxford, and some few more of his Favourites. However a Parliament was called, and great numbers of People raised out of each County, and lodged Twenty miles round London, to the end they might be ready upon all occasions, but want of Money occasioning a neglect of their Pay, which is the key of Military Discipline, there was none who did command, nor none who did obey, but they fell to pillaging the Country, whereupon they were dismissed, only they were enjoined to return, when commanded. When the Parliament met, one of the first things that were done, was the making the Earl of Oxford( one of Richards Chief Favourites) Duke of Ireland, which occasioned whispering and dislike in all men, so that Money, being afterwards demandded for the present occasion, it was denied, upon pretence that the Earl of Suffolks Treasure was enough to supply all the Kings wants, accusing him of many misdemeanours, and requiring to have his Accounts seen. The House of Peers, especially the Duke of gloucester, approved of this request of the Commons. Whereupon Richard, resolving not to lose his Favourites, nor suffer them to be oppressed, determined, as some Historians report, to put his Uncle the Duke of gloucester to death, that so, by taking revenge upon him, he might procure reverence and fear from others, supposing, that the best way, to make himself happy and to be obeied by his Subjects, was, by procuring himself to be feared. A Supper was therefore provided in the City, to which gloucester, and the rest who had declared themselves Enemies to Suffolk, were invited, that so they might have been there slain, when they least thought of any such thing. The Chief man, who was employed to manage this affair, was Nicholas Bambridge, who had been Lord Mayor of London the preceding year. But Richanrd ston, who was then Mayor, detesting so great a wickedness, gave the Duke notice of it, and he did the same to the rest, so that they thought it more convenient to content themselves with private Suppers at home, than to go to a public one, and pay the Charge of their entertainment, with the loss of their Lives; the Discovery of this design increased the disgust between the King and his Uncle, which was too great before. The King, finding the Parliament so averse in their proceedings, retired to Eltham, and being informed, that nothing would be done by them unless the Great Seal were taken away from Suffolk, he Commanded them to sand Forty of their Chief Members to him, that he might treat with them, and resolve on what was sit to be done; and they, thinking so great a number not convenient, sent only the Duke of gloucester and the Bishop of Ely, to beseech him that, since there had been great sums of Money expended, he would suffer them to take the Account, and that since his presence in Parliament was necessary, they entreated him to repair thither, and to remember, that there was an Ancient Law, which permitted the Parliament to return home, if the King, not being hindered by sickness, should absent himself forty days together from them. Being very much displeased with this Message, he told them, he saw plainly, that their designs tended to Rebellion, and therefore he should not do amiss, if he should call in his Cousin the French King to his Assistance, since it would redound less to his dishonour, to submit himself to a King, than to his own Subjects. The two Commissioners endeavoured to show him, that the Parliament had no such intention, and that if he would believe those who informed him otherwise, yet that which he had said would neither prove Honourable nor Advantageous to him, nor would it effect what his Passion promised him from thence, the People of England being strong enough to defend themselves against the French, whom they did so much abhor, that they would never endure to be Governed by them: Telling him moreover, that he ought to pretend to rule the French, and that the Evils, which were likely to ensue upon his doing as he had said, would fall only on himself to his present ruin, and perpetual infamy in after Ages. The King was hereby persuaded to return to London. Where Suffolks Misdemeanours were the first thing that was enquired into, and, some Historians say, the Judgement, which ensued thereon, was, that he would be Degraded, and have his Goods Confiscated, and to lose his Life if the King pleased; others say, it was only the loss of his Office, a fine of twenty thousand Marks, and the loss of his Pension, of three Thousand a year, which was paid him out of the Exchequer. The King was very much grieved at the misfortune of his Favourite, whose faults had brought such infamy upon him, that he could no longer be defended. Complaint was likewise made, that, by the Covetousness of the Kings Ministers, the public Revenu was vainly consumed, the King insufferably abused and defrauded, the Common People miserable impoverished, the Rents and profits of the Nobles and Great Men much impaired, and their poor Tenants in many places forced to abandon their Farms, and leave them empty and desolate. Whereupon the King consented, that fourteen Persons should be made Choice of to regulate those things, and took an Oath to stand to what they did, to encourage them in their proceedings, and not to revoke any Article of their power, but to confirm and hold good whatever they did, for such a time. And it was confirmed by Act of Parliament, that if any man should advice the King to revoke their Power, though he should not revoke it according to this advice, yet he should, for giving the advice, forfeit all his Lands and Goods, and for a Second offence be Drawn and Hanged as a Traitor. Whereupon the King, by his Commission under the Great Seal of England, confirmed them in their Power in the following words. Richard King &c. To all those, to whom these Letters shall come to be seen and heard, Greeting, We being duly Conscious of the grievous Complaints of the Lords and Commons of our Realm in this present Parliament Assembled, That our Profits, and Rents, and the Revenues of our Kingdom by Private and Insufficient Counsel, and the Ill Government as well of certain of our Great Officers as divers other Persons being near Our Person, are so much Consumed, Wasted, Embezeled, Given away, Granted, and Alienated, Destroyed, and evilly disposed of and Expended, that We are so much Impoverished and Stripped of Treasure, and Means, and the Substance of Our Crown so Diminished, and Destroyed, that We are neither able to sustain Honourably, as We ought, the State of our household, nor Maintain and Manage those Wars, wherewith Our Realm is environed, without great and outrageous Oppressions, and Charges on Our People, greater then they can bear. And also, that the good Laws, statutes, and Customs, of Our said Realm, to which We are bound by Oath and Obliged to maintain, are not, nor have not been duly Observed, nor Executed, Nor full Justice or Right done to Our said People, and many Disinherisons and other great Mischiefs and Damages have happened to Our People, and whole Realm. Now We, for the Honour of God, and the Good of Us and Our Realm, and for the Quiet and Relief of Our People, willing, against the said Mischiefs, to Establish a Good and Meet Remedy, as We have already of Our Free Will, at the request of the Lords and Commons, Ordained and Assigned such Persons for Our Great Officers, that is to say, Our chancellor, Treasurer, and Keeper of Our Privy Seal, as We esteem Good, Faithful, and Sufficient for the Honour, and Profit of Us, and Our Realm. So also of Our real Authority, certain Knowledge, Good Pleasure and Free Will, and by the Advice and Assent of the prelates, Lords, and Commons, in full Parliament, in Aid of the Good Government of Our Realm, and the well and due Execution of Our Laws, and for the Relief in time, of that Miserable Condition, under which both We and Our Subjects have long laboured, having confidence in the good advice, sense, and discretion of the Most Honourable Father in God William Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, Alexander Arch-Bishop of York, Our most dear Uncles Edmond Duke of York, and Thomas Duke of gloucester, the Honourable Fathers in God William Bishop of Winchester, Thomas Bishop of Exeter, and Nicolas Abbot of Waltham, Our Beloved and Faithful Richard Earl of Arundel, John Lord Cobham, Richard le Scroop, and John Devereux, have Ordained, Assigned and Deputed them to be of Our Great and Continual Council, for one whole Year next after the Date hereof, to Survey and examine together with Our said Great Officers and Ministers of whatever State, Degree, or Condition they be within Our household, or without, and to inquire, and take information by all such ways as they shall think meet, of all Rents, Revenues, and Profits belonging to Us, or which ought to appertain to Us, either within the Realm, or without. And of all Gifts, Grants, Alienations, and Confirmations, by Us made, of any Lands, Rents, Tenements, Annuities, Profits, Revenues, Wards, mortgages, Escheats, Forfeitures, Franchises, Liberties, avoidance of archbishoprics, bishoprics, abbeys, Priories, Farms of Houses, Possessions of Aliens &c. And also of all Revenues, and Profits as well of Our said Realm, as Our Lands, Lordships, Cities, Villages, and other Possessions beyond the Seas, and of the benefice, and Possessions, and other Revenues, of all that are in Rebellion against the Pope. And of the Carrying Money out of the Realm by the Collectors of the Pope, or the Procurators of Cardinals, Lumbards, or other Persons. And likewise of the profits of Our Customs, and all Subsidies Granted to Us by the Clergy and Laity, since the day of Our Coronation. And of all Fees, Wages, and Rewards of Officers and Ministers Great or Small, and of Annuities, and other Rewards granted, and Gifts made to any Persons in Fee, or for Term of Life, or in any other manner. And of Lands, Tenements, Rents, Revenues, and Forfeitures, bargained or sold to the Prejudice and Damage of Our Crown. And also concerning the Jewels and Goods which were Our Grandfathers, at the time of his Death. And of Charters, and General Pardons, and how general payments have been Levied, and Expended, how Garrisons and Forts have been Maintained, and of all defaults, and Misprisions, as well in Our Courts, as in all other Places of Our Realm. And by what Persons Our Revenues and the Substance of Our Crown have been withdrawn or Diminished, or the Common Law Interrupted, or Delayed, or any other Damage that hath happened to Us, Giving, and by these Presents Granting, of Our Authority, and by the Advice and Assistance of Our said Subjects, unto Our said Counsellors, or any six of them, and to Our Great Officers aforesaid, full Power and Authority, General and Special, to enter our Palace and household, and to call before them all Our Officers, and to Command all Rolls, Records and other Monuments, and Evidences; and all Defaults, Wasts and Excesses found in Our said household, and in other Courts and Places, and all Deceits, Extortions, Oppressions, Dangers, and Grievances whatsoever, that are to the Prejudice, Damage, and Distress of Us and Our Crown, and the Estate of Our said Realm in General( though not herein particularly name, Expressed or Specified) to Amend Correct, Repair, Redress, Reform and put into Good and due Order, and Establishment: And also to hear and receive the Complaints of all Our liege People, as well for Us as themselves, against Our said Officers and Counsellors; And Oppressions, Wrongs, and Injuries which cannot so well be decided in the Courts of Common Law. And to discuss and finally Determine all the matters aforesaid, and full Execution thereof, to award as to them shall seem most Meet, for the Honour and Profit of Us and Our Estate, and the Redintegration of the Rights and profit of our Crown, and the better Covernance of the Peace and Laws of our Kingdom, and the Relief of Our said People. In which Proceeding if difference of Opinion happen among Our said Counsellors, the same shall be concluded by Majority of Votes. And we Command and Charge all prelates, Dukes, Earls, Barons, Sheriffs, the Treasurer, and Controller, and all other Officers of Our household, Justices de Banco, and other Officers, Ministers and other liege Subjects whatsoever, That to Our said Counsellors, and Officers in manner aforesaid, they be Obedient, Aiding and Assisting. In Witness Whereof &c. Given under Our Great Seal, the Nineteenth day of November. This Parliament likewise gave the Duke of Ireland Thirty Thousand Marks, which was paid in by the Admiral Clisson, for the Ransom of John of Bretaign, Count of Pointivers, who was his Son in Law, and had been taken by the English in the battle of Antmoy 1364. This was the only thing they did, during the whole Sessions, which pleased Richard, and there was something in that too, that did not please him, for it was upon this condition, that he would go by Easter into Ireland, and take Possession of what the King had given him in that Kingdom. It was a prodigious Sum in those days, yet they willingly partend with so much Treasure, rather than have him still at Court, to Seduce and Infatuate the King. The Parliament was no sooner Dissolved, but Richard thought all that they had done was Dissolved likewise, at least De facto, accounting all their Complaints against Suffolk, and the rest, as mere trifles, and therefore he received them all into as much or greater Favour than ever, who being full of revenge for the Affronts, and Injuries, which they fancied they had received, by their Mischievous Whispers and fatal Suggestions they endeavoured to instill their destructive poison into the Royal Breast; and that their private Spleen might carry some show of public Respect and Loyalty, they insinuated to the King that he was not above, nay scarce, half a King, telling him, that he indeed bore the Sword, but others swayed it; he had the Title of a King, but the late Established Council had the Authority, who used his Name only as a pretext to colour their Illegal proceedings, and accounted his person but a bare Cipher, to make their Number the Greater by its addition; without which they would be nothing, but now all things are so much at their Devotion, that you can neither demand nor command without their Limitations, nay your very Bounty, which is the most Celebrate dand Necessary virtue in a Prince, is restrained, and your Affection confined to Frown, or Favour as they please to prescribe. By which suggestions, though he were not naturally of a Cruel disposition, yet they drew him into many violent and unprincely Courses, to support those, against all Opposition, whom he had at first advanced without merit, Resolving to use an absolute power in all things, and Give and Forgive at his Pleasure. Easter, the time prefixed by the Parliament for Irelands being gon, was now come, but he cared not for the Voyage, however to wheedle the People into a belief that he was repairing thither, he went to Bristol, and the King with him on pretence of seeing him take shipping. But when they got to Bristol they went not to Sea, but passed forward into Wales. Where the favourites resolved, that it was impossible for them to subsist any longer, without ridding out of the way those, who would otherwise undo them, the Chief whereof were, gloucester, Arundel, Warwick, Nottingham, and the Young Earl of derby, Eldest Son to the Duke of Lancaster, who afterwards laid the foundation of those unhappy Wars, which are the Subject of this History. Delays in a business of that consequence, they thought, were dangerous; and the Treacheries, formerly framed against gloucester, rendered it impossible for them to accomplish their ruin by the same methods, and therefore the Law was thought to be the safest and most likely means, in regard it was more Masked and Obscure from the penetration of the Vulgar. Whereupon as if Irelands Voyage had been quiter forgot, they repair to Nottingham, whither they summoned divers Citizens of London, the Sheriffs of the several Counties, and all the Judges of England. The Londoners were, in requital of some favours they had formerly received, to prove the Crimes they had contrived against them; and they enquired of the Sheriffs, what men they could raise against the Lords, and Commanded them, that they should suffer none to be returned to serve in the next Parliament, but such as should be Nominated by the King, and his Council; neither of which fully answered their expectations; but the Judges were more Compliant, for Tresilian, who was Chief Justice, indicted Two Thousand Persons at Coventry, and he and one black, an Apprentice of the Law, perused and approved under their Hands and Seals, the Inditements against the Lords. And the better to colour their proceeding with the appearance of Justice, he framed three Questions to be proposed to the Judges, two whereof were concerning the late Act of Parliament, which gave power to the Fourteen Lords to inspect into, and punish the miscarriages of the Kings Ministers; and the other, concerning the judgement against Suffolk, designing thereby, says a Modern Author, that what Ireland and the rest had resolved on, might, by being delivered as the Judges Opinion, pass current for Law; the Queries being so framed, and proposed, that it was more easy to understand thereby, what the Proposer would have to be Law, than what was really so. And it appears they proceeded therein against their consciences, since some of them and particularly Robert Belknappe Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, as Knyghton reports, strenuously refused to sign the Resolutions, till Ireland and Suffolk forced him to it, by threatening to kill him, if he did not comply; and when he had signed them, he burst forth into Tears, and said, I now want nothing but an Halter, to bring me to that Death I have deserved. The first Query was, Whether the King being forced to give his consent to the Acts of the last Parliament, to the prejudice of his Prerogative, he might not Lawfully revoke them? The Second, That if he might do so, what punishment did they deserve, who had forced his Consent? The Third was, Whether the judgement, given against Suffolk, were not erroneous, and therefore revokeable? To the First and Third, they answered they were revokeable; and to the Second, that, as Traytors, they ought to be punished with death. There were Ten in all, but they were all comprised in those Three. But this difficulty, of getting the Law cast in their own Mould, being over, yet remained a greater to be grappled with, viz. the Arming themselves with Power sufficient to enable them to execute, what they had so well designed. Wherefore they sent about privately to raise men, but they came in slowly, in regard the Lords were loved as much as they were hated, nor could they manage their design with such secrecy, but that the Lords heard of it. Wherefore, to take off all ill Impressions which were by Ireland, and the rest made against them in the Kings Mind, his Uncle, the Duke of gloucester, who was the Chief of those Lords who were thus Combinated against, voluntarily before the Bishop of London, and several of the Nobility, deposed upon Oath, that he had never designed any thing but the Service and Honour of the King and Kingdom, that his only Crime was, that he had hated and still did hate Ireland, with the contents of which Oath, the Bishop did, upon the Dukes request, acquaint the King, assuring him of the Dukes good intentions, and entreating his better opinion of him, and had prevailed, had not Suffolk, when he perceived the King inclining to a good opinion of the Duke, began to exasperate him against him, saying, the Dukes mind was full of Deceit, Ambition and Treason, to which the Bishop smartly repllyed, be silent, Sir, it becomes not you to talk, who stand condemned in Parliament, and are now alive only by the Kings Grace and Favour, whereat Richard was so offended, that he commanded the Bishop out of his Presence: whereupon the Lords thought it high time to provide for their own safety, and endeavour to obviate the ruin which was preparing for them, wherefore advising together, they resolved to stand upon their Guard, and with all imaginable speed raised great numbers of Armed Men. Richard, being informed thereof, intended to surprise them singly, and thereby prevent their Uniting, wherefore Arundel being farthest from the rest, and most exposed to danger, he commanded the Earl of Northumberland to apprehended him, who, in order thereunto, went with some Forces to Rigate in Surrey, but found him too well provided, and in a condition rather to offend than be offended, so that he thought it better to return without doing any thing, than by a rash attempt to discover the reason of his coming. However the King did not quit his design, but gave the like order to divers others, commanding that if they could not take him alive, they should bring him dead But he being informed thereof, by gloucester who had better intelligence, marched all night to Haringey Park, where he found the Duke and Warwick, with a great number of Soldiers. And Richard beginning now to fear they were too strong for him, sent the Bishop of Ely, who was then Chancellor, to persuade them to present themselves before him at Westminster, promising they should have their Grievances redressed, and have the King's safe Conduct, but they were hard to be prevailed upon, in regard they had little belief of, and therefore were unwilling to trust to their fair promises, since where there was neither shane of Infamy, nor fear of Punishment: breach of Promise and treachery might only have been looked upon as terms of Wisdom, and subtlety. But the chancellor, who was very Cordial, and upright in his Mediation, persuading them not to stick at that, since the Good of the Kingdom depended thereon, and passing his word that if there were any fraud intended, he would give them timely advertisement, they consented upon the security, and there being upon the day when they were to appear above a Thousand Armed Men, secretly placed in Ambush, about the Meers, to cut them off as they passed by the Chancellor, according to his promise, sent them word of it, and Richard wondering they did not come, the Chancellor told him, it was because he did not keep his word with them, he disowned his knowledge of it, and Commanded the men to be cut in pieces, but they upon notice despersed themselves. And Richard having promised the Lords a safe Conduct a Second time, they presented themselves before him on their knees, in the Great Hall at Westminster, where he sate arrayed in his Robes, of Majesty, and having his Crown on his Head, and the sceptre in his Hand, and there it was concluded, that all differences on both sides should be referred to the determination of the next Parliament, which the King told them should begin the next day after the Purification of the Blessed Virgin; and that then both parties should have Justice done them, according to the Laws, and in the mean time all of them should be in the Kings protection, without injuring each other. And so after some Friendly discourse, and drinking with the King, they departed; but knowing the Malice and Perfidiousness of the Favourites, they thought it not best to separate, but, with a Vigilant Eye, observe their Motions. However Ireland, and the rest had no mind to the Justice of the next Parliament, but rather choose to endeavour the securing themselves by Arms. To which end Ireland was all this while secretly raising Men in Cheshier, and Wales, by the Kings Commission, or Connivance at least, as appears by his commanding Sir Thomas Molineux, a Man of great Courage, and Valour, who was then Constable of the Castle of Chester, to accompany and forefeet him, with all the Forces he could make, into his Presence. When he had got together about Five Thousand fighting Men, he Marched towards London, concluding, that when he had joined those to the Forces, which were already there, he might be strong enough to make his Party good against the Lords: Who being informed of his Raising Men and that he was on his March towards London, with his new Raised Forces, they divided themselves, that they might hinder his passage. It was Derby's fortune to meet with him, and was first discovered by Ireland himself, who Marching with Standards Royal, and being puffed up with Pride and confidence, expected not to be interrupted, fancying that others were as full of Fear, as he was of Hope, but being come to Burford in Oxford-Shire, he saw Derby stand in battle array, to hinder his advance, which unpleasant and unexpected sight transformed him, who was before grown fierce upon his supposed advantage, into a perfect Coward, and filled his suspicious Breast with a Thousand apprehensions of impending danger: So that it was impossible for molineux, to infuse new Courage into him, or raise his fallen Spirits. He told him, the Enemies Forces were inferior to his, and that there were none of the Lords there, to command them, but only the Earl of Derby, who was but a Boy, and had no experience in War; but all to no purpose, for he fancied, that he was the only Man they aimed at, and that all their Bows were bent, and all their launces directed at him, and that the safety of his Men, consisted in his flight, since it was he, and not they, that the Enemy desired to destroy. However, molineux, being a Man of an undaunted Courage, gave them battle, which was no sooner begun, but Ireland, overpressed by his own fears, mounted a very Fleet Horse and fled, thereby demonstrating, that he had a better stomach to make Quarrels, than he had to maintain or stint them, by which means his men being disheartened, and molineux slain, Derby obtained the Honour of a cheap, but yet a full and entire Victory, and thereby laid the first foundation of his Succeeding Glories. Irelands flight was opposed by a River, wherefore to make himself the lighter, he threw away his armour, and his Sword, and took the Water, but his Horse being born down by the stream, he was forced to quit the Saddle, and swim, not without Eminent danger, to the other shore; and not fancying himself safe in England, he first fled to Scotland, and then to Holland, but not thinking himself safe enough, in regard Albertus Duke of Bavaria, who was Lord of that Country, was a Friend unto the King Uncles, he went to France, and from thence to lorraine, where he soon after dyed. The Victory was rendered the more complete, by some Letters falling into their hands, which were sent from the French King, purporting a safe Conduct for Richard, and as many as would accompany him thither, to drive a bargain about those places which the English enjoyed there. This unhappy disaster Thunder struck the whole Cabal, whose terror was the more increased, when they were informed the Lords were upon their March towards London, with Forty Thousand Men, whereupon they all fled, Suffolk into France, and the rest where they thought themselves most secure; and the King himself retired to the Tower of London, as a place least exposed to dangers. The Lords, being come to London, were after some debate, admitted into the Kings Presence, where in Justification of what they had done, they laid before him the Confederacy against their Lives at Nottingham, his Letters to Ireland, contrary to his Royal word, and his dishonourable Treaty with the French King, all which he heard with silence, and a dejected Countenance, and when they shewed him the French Kings safe Conduct, he burst forth into Tears. The Result of this debate was, the Kings promising to go to Westminster, and there to treat of these and other necessary affairs of the Kingdom. But no sooner were they departed, than those who knew their Crimes had rendered them Obnoxious, began to abuse the Royal Ear, telling him it was neither honourable, nor Safe for him to leave the Tower, and that the going to Westminster would bring upon him both danger and contempt. Which unseasonable suggestions made such impressions upon his easy mind, that he began to retract his word, and refuse to go to Westminster according to his promise. But upon the Lords threatening, that if he thus faltered with them, they would take other Measures, he consented to meet them according to agreement, where he yielded, although not without some reluctancy, to have several of his favourites banished the Court, and obliged to appear at the next Parliament, and to answer for their Misdemeanours, and others of them to be immediately taken into Custody, and committed to several Prisons. After Candlemas, the Parliament began at London, whither the Lords came well attended, that so they might be able to defend themselves, against any attempts of the adverse party. Their first work was to summon Ireland, Suffolk, the Chief Justice, and others who were fled, to surrender themselves, and answer the Treasons wherewith they were Charged, there being Thirty Four Articles of High Treason Exhibited against them, by gloucester and the rest of the Lords, but none of them appearing, they were all of them Out-lawed, and their Lands and Goods Forfeited, and Seized into the Kings hands; and it was Provided by common consent of Parliament, that they should never be pardonned, or suffered to appear in England again. And Tresilian the Chief Justice, being discovered by one of his own Servants, at an Apothecaries House, near the Gate going into the Old Palace at Westminster, whither he had retired the better to observe what was done, was by gloucester brought to the Parliament, who immediately awarded Execution against him, whereupon he was according to a judgement passed upon him, before he was found, drawn from the Tower, through the midst of the City of London to Tyburn, and there hanged; and the next day Sir Nicholas Brembridg, who had formerly been preferred by the King, to be Mayor of London, contrary to the desires of its Inhabitants, and had thereby brought many damages upon the City, was discovered, and Beheaded with a common Hatchet, which he had caused to be made for the cutting of the Heads of all that opposed his Illegal practices, a List of whose Names was then found about him, Eight Thousand Five Hundred, and upwards, whereof, he had already Indicted, but was now effectually prevented from prosecuting them any farther, or enjoying the Title of Duke of Troy, a name ( London was anciently called by) which Historians say was designed for him. After which, a general Pardon was passed, and so the Parliament broken up. May, 1389. Terminating King Richards Minority, he Commanded the Fourteen Lords, and the rest of the Nobility, to come to Court, and being all met in the Council Chamber, he repaired thither likewise, and taking his Seat, and looking about him on every side( which made them with much expectation long to hear, what he would say,) demanded, How old they thought he was? they answered, somewhat more than One and Twenty Years: Then replied he, I am of full Age, and Capable to manage the affairs of my Kingdom myself: whereat he stopped, as expecting their answer. But though the Lords, its probable, were unwilling to grant it, yet they could not deny the truth of what he had asserted, and therefore were silent, and returned no answer thereunto, which the King seeing, proceeded, 'tis well known, said he, I have hitherto lived under your Tutelage, and Governance, and for the Pains you have taken therein, We thank you, but now being arrived at Our full Age, We resolve to be no longer in Ward, but to take into Our own hands the Government of our Realm, and the appointing such Officers and Ministers as We shall think fit, and the removing other, at Our Pleasure. And accordingly he immediately displaced the Chancellor, and the Treasurer, and bestowed their Offices on others, and suspended his Uncle the Duke of gloucester, and several more from his Privy Council, admitting others in their stead, who humoured him more, but Honoured him less; a thing very incident to Princes, although nothing can be more injurious and pernicious to them. The Duke of Lancaster being now return'd out of Spain, and the King having given him the duchy of gascoigne, he went into France, to take possession of it, and Richard himself, passing over at the same time, into Ireland with an Army of Thirty Thousand Bow-Men, and Four Thousand launces, wan more in Nine Months time than ever his Grand-Father the Famous King Edward the Third, was able to do in his whole Life. Ireland was Governed by almost as many petty Kings, as there were Provinces; Four whereof submitted to him, and the rest had done so too, if his prelates had not importuned his return, before he had effected it, to put a stop to the spreading of Wicklifs doctrine. By which it appears, that he not been naturally inclined to listen to add advice and flattery, which is usually the ruin of Princes, he might have been a more happy and prosperous King. And not long after his return, Lancaster, who had been at a great charge to settle himself in Guascony, was presently recalled, and though he thought it as hard as it was expected, yet he willingly obeied it, and Soon after Lancasters return, King Richard himself, made great preparations for a Voyage into France, not of War, but of Gallantry, where between Calice and Arde, the place appointed for their Interview, the Two Kings met, and it was agreed between them, that there should be a Cessation of Arms, between the two Nations, for Thirty Year, and that Richard should mary Isabel, the French Kings Daughter, then not above Eight Years Old. gloucester being displeased at this Match, and the Treaty of peace with France, he spoken very slightly of them, which coming to the Ear of the Earl of St. Pauls, who was soon after sent by the French King, to compliment the new Queen, he in revenge contributed very much to the hastening of his Ruin, for the King and he discoursing about gloucester, and being told by the King, that he had been the only Man who had opposed his Match, and the Peace lately concluded with France, and complaining of him as a contumacious Person, the Earl, bending his Brows, replied, the Birth and Blood of such Subjects, allowing them more Authority than stood with the Kings safety, was dangerous, and that to temporize in Cures made Maladies, greater, but as one poison expels another, so was one danger to be prevented by another, with this advantage, that the first danger was certain, but the later not so: Adding, Clemency when it was looked upon as the Off-spring of weakness or fear, was always subject to Ingratitude, and was seldom ever thankfully received, so that Princes, who wanted skill to weigh Offences, and Power to Counter-poise them with condign Punishments, might esteem themselves already lost. Which intimations being received by Richard, as coming from one whom he accounted Wise, one who was his Friend, and withal had no particular interest to prompt him thereunto, they gave the Definitive Sentence against Glocesters Life: His Death being now resolved on, though not the manner, which required more mature Deliberation. But so soon as the Earl was gone, Richard, acquainted the Earls of Nottingham& huntingdon, the former whereof, was Earl Marshal, with his Design, and they rid out of London one Evening about supper time, with a great many Armed men, who were placed in Ambush near the Dukes House at Plashley, whither the King sent huntingdon to acquaint him of his coming, and the message was no sooner delivered, but by the sound of Trumpets notice was given of the Kings arrival, whereupon the Duke, who was then in Bed, threw his Night-Gown about him, and came down to receive him, taxing huntingdon of unkindness, for giving him no earlier notice; but their complimental quarrels were soon composed by the Kings smiling aspect who desired the Duke to go and dress him, because some Extroardinary business required his going presently to London with him. The duchess in her Night-Cloaths entertained the King, whilst the Duke prepared himself for his journey, little imagining he should never return more. As soon as he was ready, without staying to take his usual Train along with him, he got on horseback followed only by a few, and giving Order for the rest to follow after him, but that was needless, for when they came to the place where the Ambush was laid, Richard set spurs to his Horse, and the Earl Marshal appearing from the place where he was hide, took the Duke prisoner, who called to the King but to no purpose, for he rid forward and made as if he did not hear him; so that the unfortunate man notwithstanding all his wariness& caution, was by this stratagem taken and hurried away to the Thames and there hood winked, and against his will shipped for Calice, where he was Kept a close prisoner for some small time, and then was secretly strangled. Richard having had success in this Enterprise, the next day he invited the Earl of Warwick to Dinner, and entertained him with a pleasant Countenance, but at his return caused him to be apprehended and sent to prison, and sent the Lord Cobham and divers more likewise to the Tower; but fearing that these kind of proceedings would have Alarmed the Nation, he caused a Proclamation to be issued forth, wherein he declared, that they were not imprisoned for any former difference, but upon the account of new crimes, which should be made good against the next Parliament which was to meet at Nottingham, after the Feast of the Virgin Maries Nativity. Which Parliament was Chosen more according to the Kings mind than any of the former had been. Sir John Bushy was their Speaker and Sir William Baggot, and Sir Henry Green, were the greatest sticklers therein, three Gentlemen who were absolutely at Richards devotion. In this Parliament the King, upon the importunity of his favourites, protested that all his Charters of pardon, which he had formerly granted, were drawn from him against his own inclination, and his consent to them was rather forced than coming freely from his own Choice; and therefore desired, they might be revoked. The Temporal Lords were of the same opinion, but the Iudges and Lawyers were utterly against it; notwithstanding which, it was carried according to the Kings desire, and they were all Vacated and Annulled; which being done, and the new crimes, which the proclamation pretended, they were imprisoned for not being very easy to prove, there was no mention made, but they were Proceeded against for former offences. In order whereunto a command was sent to Calice to Earl Marshal to bring his Priosner the Duke of gloucester to the Parliament, the better to colour the business of his being murdered: Which was done for fear the Dukes innocency, policy and popularity might prevent their getting him condemned; but answer was return'd, that he was dead of a violent fever. All obstacles being now removed, they fall briskly upon the business, only the prelates, pretending a scrupulosity, that they might not be present at Iudgment of Blood, choose Sir Henry Peircy their Procurator and departed the House. Thomas Arch-Bishop, of Canterbury, was the first they began withall, who being accused of Executing the judgement against the Earl of Suffolk, had his Temporalities Seized, his Land and his Goods forfeited, and himself, being adjudged to perpetual Banishment, and was ordered to depart the Kingdom within six weeks; he offered to make his defence, but the Speaker desired the King, he might not be permitted to answer, least he should, by his great Wit and Cunning, delude People to believe him. The next they proceeded against, was the Earl of Arundel, who in vain pleaded his Pardon; notwithstanding which, he was Condemned to be Drawn, hanged and Quartered, which Sentence was mitigated by the King, into the favour of being Beheaded. When he saw the Earls of Nottingham and Kent( the first being his Son-in-law, and the Second his Nephew) to be very busy at his Execution, he told them, it would have become them at least to have been absent, but the time would shortly come, when as many should be Spectators of their Misfortune, as then beholded his. The Earl of Warwick was Banished, and so was the Lord Cobham, although accused of no other Crime, than his being one of the aforementioned Commissioners appointed by the Parliament. All things being now finished according to the Kings pleasure, he Adjourned the Parliament to Shrewsbury, where he Ordered them to meet after Christmas, where the Parliament being now met again, and grown more pliable than ever, upon the account of the late pretended Conspiracy, they Condemned and Annulled all the proceedings of the Parliament, which sate in the Tenth Year of Richards Reign. And so melted were they into an excess of Kindness, that upon his desire they granted, that after their Dissolution, their whole Power should revolve upon, and remain in certain Persons then name, or any Seven or Eight of them. Who did thereupon undertake to Act, and determine many things concerning the public State of the Nation, which were only proper for a Parliament to have done; General Pardon was likewise Granted, but was clogged with a strange kind of Clause: which exempted Fifty Persons from the Benefit of it, whose Names were not expressed, but left to the Kings own knowledge and Pleasure, that so if any of the Nobility should in any thing displease him, he might presently Nominate them to be of the Number, by which Reservation he kept them still within his danger, no Man being able to assure himself that he was included in it. And the better to fix himself in the Affections of his Friends, and oblige them to be firm and constant, and withall to Illustrate his Triumphs over his supposed Enemies, he Liberally bestowed new Honours and Estates upon divers Persons, creating Five new Dukes, one whereof was the Earl of Derby, whom he made Duke of Hereford, and another was Nottingham, who was preferred peradventure, in consideration of his good Service in ridding the King of his Uncle, the Duke of Glacester, to be Duke of Norfolk. He likewise created one duchess, one marquis, and four Earls, among whom he made distribution of the Estates of gloucester, Arundal, and Warwick, imagining, that by his double Bounty, in conferring Honour upon them, and giving them Estates to uphold it, he had tied them securely enough to his Interest, not considering, that hired and mercenary Friends are never satisfied, or Faithful longer than they are receiving continual Favours. However to bind all sure, and make the proceedings of this Parliament the more Solid and Durable, he Purchased the Popes Bull, containing heavy Censures and Curses, upon all Persons whatsoever, which should presume to Oppose or Break them: Which were solemnly Published at Pauls across, and at several other places in the Nation, so that he now thought he might do what he pleased, without fear of Danger, altho' he were just then entering upon the very Confines of his Destiny. And to show, that there is an over-ruling Providence, that can easily blast the most subtle and well laid projects, when they are not founded on Equity, and managed with Justice; and that too by the most unlikely and unthought of means, he was soon after forced, without striking one stroke, to surrender his Crown, and acknowledge himself unfit, and unworthy to wear it. One thing which seems to have hastened Richards approaching destiny, was Herefords complaining to the new made Duke of Norfolk, whom he knew was one of Richards greatest Confidents. That those actions of the King would certainly draw upon him many inconveniences, by exposing him to the suspicion and hatred of his People, and telling him, that he, being a counselor, and one whom the King did much confided in, was bound in duty to acquaint him, that by under valuing the Princes of the Blood, and the Ancient Nobility, and preferring others before them, who were new upstart Favourites, of mean Birth and base Qualities, who had no sufficiency either for Counsel in Peace, or Courage in War, and whose hated conditions had deservedly contracted the odium and contempt of the whole Kingdom bofore them. He obscured his own Honour, and endangered the safety of the Nation, and that it was therefore high time to provide some Redress therein, protesting that he mentioned this not out of any Pique to any Person whatsoever, but only out of a sense of Duty to his sovereign, and Love to his Country; Norfolk told him he was of the same mind, assuring him that in those apprehensions he had but copied his own thoughts, and that he would acquaint the King therewith, and use his interest to have it regulated, which if he had performed with as much Candidness, and Ingenuity as it seems to have been delivered by Hereford, many ensuing mischiefs might have been prevented. But either out of some private grudge to Hereford, and a design to work his ruin, or else from the consideration that such offices were unpleasing to the King, whose Favour was not to be obtained or preserved by giving him good advice, but by flattering him into a conceit that he had done all things well. He reported the discourse to the King, very different to what it was, and aggravated it as much as might be to Herefords prejudice: whereupon the King sent for him, and made Norfolk relate the same before his Face, as he had done behind his Back; upon which Hereford gave him the lie, which was returned again by Norfolk; whereupon Hereford Challenged him to the Combat, which the other accepted, and the King allowed of, assigning Coventry to be Place, and the following August for the time of Decision. And the time being come, the Duke of Albemarle was made High Constable, and the Duke of Surrey, High Marshal for that days Solemnity, who entred the Lists, Honourably attended with rich Liveries, suitable to their greatness, their Servants carriyng tipstaffs for the clearing the Field. Hereford, being Challenger, was the first that entered the Field, bravely mounted, and Armed cap-à-pie, with his Sword drawn. When he came to enter the Lists, the Marshal demanded who he was, he answered, I am Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, and am come hither to do my Devoir, against Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, as a false traitor to God, the King, the Realm, and me, and then taking his Oath that his cause was True, and Just, he desired leave to enter the List, which being granted, he put up his Sword, pulled down his Beaver, and Signed himself with the Sign of the across, and then taking his Spear, and passing the Barriers, he dismounted and sat down in a Chair of Blew Velvet, placed in a Travers of Green and Blew Silk at the end of the Lists. Then the King entred the Field with much Pomp, being accompanied by the Earl of St. Pauls, who came over on purpose to see the Combat, and attended by most of the Nobles of England, and a Guard of Ten Thousand Men in Arms. And so soon as he was Seated on a Chair of State, which was placed on a Sumptuous Scaffold, built for that purpse: Proclamation was made by one of the Kings at Arms, That none, unless such as were appointed to Marshal the Field, should touch any part of the Lists, upon pain of Death; which was followed by another, who cried, Behold here, Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, Appellant, who is entred into the Royal Lists, to do his Devoier against Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, upon pain of being counted False and Recreant. Immediately upon this, Norfolk appeared well Mounted, and having taken the like Oath, as Hereford had done, that his Cause was Right and Just, he entered the Field, crying aloud, God aid the Right; and then lighting from his Horse, he placed himself in a Chair of Crimson Velvet, opposite to Hereford, at the other end of the Lists; then the Marshal viewing their Spears, to see that they were of an equal length; he carried one of them to Hereford himself, and sent the other to Norfolk by a Knight, which being done they Mounted, and Addressed themselves to the Combat, and upon the Trumpets sounding Hereford advanced, but before Norfolk stirred, the King Commanded them to stay: and their Spears being taken away from them, they returned to their Seats, whilst he retired to Council, to debate what was to be done in that case, and after two hours debate their Doom was concluded on, without fighting; and Sir John Bouray, after silence Commanded, red their Sentence, which was to this effect, that, ●or as much as the two Dukes had Honourably Appeared, and Declared themselves ready and forward to decide the controversy, between them, by Combat; the King, for avoiding the shedding of Christian Blood, had, by the advice of his Council, Decreed, That Hereford should within Fifteen Days depart the Kingdom, not to return within the space of Ten Years, upon pain of Death, without the Kings Special Licence. And that Norfolk for having uttered Seditious words, whereof he could produce no proof, should be Banished during Life, and that the King should receive the Revenues of his Land, till he was satisfied all such Sums of Money as the Duke had taken out of the Kings Coffers, on pretence of paying the Garrison of Calice. And that no person from thenceforth should presume to Petition or Intercede on the behalf of either of them, on pain of the Kings displeasure. The Sentence being red, the King took an Oath, that they should never converse together beyond the Seas; Nor, willingly come into each others Company. Norfolk, with much grief and trouble of mind, went first into Germany, and then to Venice, where in a short time he died with Sorrow. It being observed by Historians, that his Banishment was pronounced that very day Twelve Month, that the Duke of gloucester had been by his Order murdered at Calice, so Just is Heaven in Revenging Crimes of that nature. Hereford, when he took his leave of the King, behaved himself so respectfully towards him, that he remitted Four Years of his Exilement. Which did not however pacify the Murmur of the People, who could not be persuaded that there was any cause for his being Banished at all; affirming, that it was against the Law of Arms, the Custom of the Realm, and the Rules of Justice, that he, who had so Honourably offered to maintain his Appeal, according to the Law of the Field, should be exiled. He directed his course from England to France, where he was Honourably received by the French King, who offered him the only Daughter of the Duke of Berry, who was the Kings Uncle, in Marriage, but Richard put a stop thereunto. He had not been gon many Months, before his Father, the Duke of Lancester, died, his Death being perhaps somewhat hastened by the Impressions of grief, which the disgrace of his Son made on his Spirits. By whose death, the duchy of Lancaster lineally descended to Hereford, but there being nothing more usual, than for Princes of his temper, to hate those whom they have once injured; the King presently seized on all his Lands and Goods, and endeavoured to perpetuate the Young Dukes Banishment, without any pretended Crime committed by the Father, or new Provocation given by the Son, which might afford any colourable pretence, for his being disinherited. In the mean while, Richards superfluous expenses rendered him continually Poor, and in a perpetual want of Money, which ran through his hands, as Water through a Sieve; and his Necessity, like a perpetual fever, caused an excessive thirst, which could not possibly be quenched by the ordinary Revenues of the Crown, nor yet the extraordinary helps of Parliament, so that he was forced to dig for new Springs, and find out new Methods to supply his craving Poverty. He borrowed Money of all his prelates, and Temporal Lords, by way of Privy Seal, which was never repaid again. And accusing Seventeen whole Shires of having formerly sided with the Duke of gloucester, they were all of them, notwithstanding his late General Pardon, looked upon as Guilty of High Treason, and thereupon compelled to compound for a great Sum of Money, and the Richest amongst them forced to Sign and Seal unto a blank, into which his Officers might insert what Sum they pleased; a thing able to undo whole Families, nay Counties at once, the like was practised in London likewise, to the great distaste of the Citizens. The Duke of York, disliking those Illegal practices, especially the seizing his deceased Brother, the Duke of Lancasters Inheritance, to the prejudice of his Nephew the young Duke, and thinking it no longer safe for him to stay at Court, he retired to his own House; but Richard resolving to go in Person for Ireland, to revenge the Death of Roger Mortimer Earl of March, who had been formerly by the Parliament declared Heir to the Crown, in case the King should die without Issue, and was now slain there by the Rebels, he sent for the Duke back to Govern the Kingdom in his absence: During which, the prelates, Nobles, and the Generality of the Commons, especially the Seventeen Counties, who thought themselves the worst dealt with, reflecting upon Lancasters being in the same condition with themselves, resolved to call him, not only to the Possession of his own Inheritance, but the Crown too; to which end they sent express messengers to Cullen, to desire Thomas Arundel late Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, who in the time of his Banishment resided there, to repair forthwith to France, and persuade the Duke of Lancaster to comply with their desires. These offers, without doubt, were not unwelcome to the Duke, who looking upon himself to have been very severely dealt withall, in his first Banishment, but more especially the late seizure of his Inheritance, whereat he was very much enraged. Notwithstanding which, he was not without very great importunity brought to consent, nor had he at all been prevailed upon, as many did believe, had he not been reduced to such poverty, by being deprived of his Estate, that he was forced to live by borrowing Money, and out of hopes of ever recovering his Estate, by any other means. The thoughts whereof sometimes hurries men on to the doing of the most injurious, and unwarrantable Actions. Lancaster, having at last consented to return for England, he pretended to King Charles, who would not otherwise have suffered him to depart, that he was going to see his Cousin, the Duke of britain, desiring his Letters of safe conduct, which being granted, he there privately listed a few Soldiers, with which, in three Ships he hired of the Duke, he put to Sea, and set Sail for England, he had not above Twenty launces, and about Sixty Persons more in his Retinue, so that it is an equal wonder that he dared Attempt, and that he Succeeded in the Conquest of a Kingdom, with so inconsiderable an Army; when he arrived on the English cost, he did not presently Land, but lay Cruising up and down, sometimes appearing on one cost, and sometimes on another, thereby the better to discover how Peoples Inclinations stood, and to inform himself what Forces were ready to join with him, and being satisfied that all things were according to his desire, he landed about the beginning of June, at Ravenspur in York-Shire, whither divers prelates and Noble Men presently repaired to him, and in a few days he had an Army of Fifty Thousand Fighting men, and all places by which he passed yielding to him, he was received with great acclamations of Joy into London. As soon as Intelligence of his arrival was brought to London, the Duke of York, who was then made governor of the Kingdom, during the Kings absence, Levied what Forces could be got together upon so sudden an occasion, which were ordered to rendezvous at St. Albans. But when they were got together, many of them declared, that they would not fight against the Duke of Lancaster, in regard he pretended that he designed no more, than only the obtaining his own Inheritance, which was unjustly detained from him. Which refusal of the Soldiers being looked upon as a very ill omen to the Kings Cause, the Earl of Wiltshire, Sir John Bushey, who had been Speaker of the House of Commons, Sir William Bagot, and Sir Henry Green, forsook the Duke of York, and fled to bristol, intending to have gon into Ireland to the King. The Duke seeing their flight, and the general esteem which Lancaster had obtained, and being unwilling to run the hazard of a doubtful Resistance, gave over the Cause, and the rest of the Council either openly declared for Lancaster, or secretly held correspondence with him, resolving to swim with the stream, and not endanger themselves, by endeavouring to stem the impetuous Torrent, which bore down all before it. By that time he came to London, he had increased his Army to Sixty Thousand, however he thought it not convenient to stay there, but supposing the only danger, which could happen to him, would be from Richards return out of Ireland; to prevent that, and overtake those who were fled, he with speedy Marches pursued them to bristol, where he found the Castle Fortified against him, which he Stormed so briskly, that in Four days he forced it to a surrender, and therein took the Earl of Wiltshire, the Treasurer▪ Sir John Bushey, and Sir Henry Green, whom he the very next day Sacrificed to the importunate rage of the incensed People, by causing them to be Beheaded. It was Six Weeks, or more, after Lansters first Landing, before there was any News of Richards preparation to oppose him, either in regard that the Wind was so contrary, that he could not have news of it sooner, as some Historians writ, or else, because he slighted it upon the first Intelligence, according to the Humour of some mean Spirits, who laugh at dangers when remote, but are confounded by them when they approach too near them. However upon certain news, how hazardous his affairs stood, he caused the Sons of the Duke of gloucester, and Lancaster, who were then with him, to be imprisoned in Trim Castle, and prepared for his departure forthwith to England; but the Duke of Aumarl, who was his principal counselor, advised him to stay till his Ships, which were then scattered, could be gotten together, and other necessary prepacations made for the Fleet; which fatal Counsel it was Richards ill fortune to follow, yet he presently sent over the Earl of Salisbury to raise Men in Wales, and Cheshire, promising within Six Days at furthest to follow himself. The Earl, employed himself so well, that he soon got together Forty Thousand Men, wherewith Richard, if he had followed according to his promise, might, together with what Forces he had with him, have put such a stop to the progress of Lancasters Arms, that he would not have been able, at least so soon, to have rent his Kingdom from him. But having expected him fifteen days, and hearing no news of him in all that time, and there being a report raised, that he was dead, the Earl was able to keep them no longer, but they broken up in discontent, some of them going over to Lancaster, and the rest retiing to their own homes. Three days after which, and eighteen days after his sending away the Earl, he Landed at Milford Haven, and when he understood the irreparable mischief his delay had brought upon him, he lost all Courage, and abandoned himself to despair, being perplexed in uncertainties what to do, or whither to repair for safety. Some advised him to march further into the Country, before those Forces he had were likewise lost; telling him, that Fortune would attend Valour, and that he would in all places find some, who either out of a sense of Loyalty and Affection, or else for good Pay, would follow his Standard, which was Illustrated with Majesty, and Guarded with Right. Some persuaded him to return to Ireland, and others to go over to his Father in Law, the King of France, till the heat of the People was a little over, and he were better fortified against the impending danger. But, being not well acquainted with marshal Affairs, he rejected all those Counsels, and steered a middle course, which usually, in extremes of that Nature, are the worst, and prove most Fatal. He resolved to stay in Wales, to see to what Issue that revolution would tend, which resolution was contrary almost to all their opinions, who were with him. His Soldiers encouraged him to venture a battle, vowing they would die at his Feet, rather than suffer his Crown to be Usurped by Lancaster: all which could not raise his drooping Spirits, but contrary to that Magnanimity, and greatness of Spirit, which ought to fill the Souls of Princes, he resolved to lose his Kingdom, rather than hazard his Life in the defence of it, stealing away from his Army in the Night, with the Dukes of Exeter, and Surry, and about Twelve or Fourteen more, with whom he retired to a Castle at Conway, whither Lancaster, so soon as he heard of it, followed him, whilst his Army, discouraged by his departure, dispersed themselves, every one striving to save one. Whereupon finding himself straitned, so that he was unable either to resist or escape, he desired a conference with the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, and the Earl of Northumberland, two persons from whose Negotiations he could hope for little advantage, having formerly Banished the first, and Beheaded his Brother the Earl of Arundel, and Proclaimed the Second a traitor. However they were sent to him according to his desire, and told him, that if he would grant that a Parliament should be called, and in the same Justice done, and Lancaster and his Followers receive a General Pardon, the Duke would be ready to cast himself at his Feet, and as an Humble Subject obey him, in all Dutiful Service. But the King, knowing that all this was but compliment, and that Lancaster aimed at the Crown, and that he would not therefore, after having rendered himself so obnoxious to his displeasure, confided in his promises of Pardon; or to oblige them the more by an early and voluntary offer to surrender that, which he saw he could keep no longer, or else confounded in himself, and grown weary of wearing a Crown, he was not able to support, told them, that he desired no more, than that himself, and eight others, whom he would name, might have an Honourable allowance, and an assurance of a quiet private Life, and then he would willingly resign the Crown, which was readily granted; and the King, desiring to speak with the Duke, he, in order thereunto, removed from thence to Flint-Castle: Whither Lancaster being come with his Army, the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury; and the Earl of Worcester, who had been Steward of his household, were sent before to acquaint him of the Dukes coming; so soon as he saw them from the Walls, where he stood, he came down to meet them, and observing that they did their accustomend reverence, took them up, and entred into some private discourse with the Arch-Bishop. After a little space, Lancaster himself in his armor approached the Castle, and entering within the first Gate, he reposed himself, till the King, attended by the Bishop of carlisle, the Earl of Salisbury and Sir Stephen Scroop, who bore the Sword before him, came forth and sate down in a place prepared for him, which as soon as the Duke saw, he went towards him, bowing his knee three times, and then the King taking him by the hand, lifted him up, Saying, Dear Cousin, thou art welcome? to which the Duke returned his Humble thanks, and told him, That the cause of his coming was to have restitution of his Person, Lands, and Inheritance; to which the King replied, Dear Cousin, I am ready to accomplish your Will, so that you may enjoy what is yours, without exception. After which, coming forth of the Castle, the King called for some Wine, and having drank together, they mounted and rid to Chester, and afterwards to London, where, in pretence of State, but really for the better securing of him, he was Lodged in the Tower; which being done, a Parliament was called by the Duke but in the Kings name. Against the time of their Sitting, he consulted with his Friends, how to manage things so, that his affairs, which had hitherto succeeded, even beyond his hopes, might have as desirable and advantageous an Issue. And the Duke of York, who had been but a little before governor of the Kingdom under Richard, being now become Lancasters Chief dictatory, and his most admired Oracle, after several debates proposed it as the best Expedient, that Richards Voluntary Resignation should be accepted, and that he should likewise be solemnly Deposed, by the Estates of the Realm, that so the Resignation might not be imputed only to his fear, nor the Deprivation seem to be procured barely by Lancasters Force, affirming that they should thereby render the King so much less the subject of the Peoples Pity, and the Duke of their Envy. His advice being approved of, it was accordingly followed, and a Solemn Renunciation being tendered to the King, he Signed it, desiring the Arch-Bishop, in his Name, to desire the Parliament, to choose his Cousin, the Duke of Lancaster, for his Successor; to whom he presented a Ring, which he took off of his own Finger, and wherein his Arms were curiously engraven. All which was the next day reported to the Parliament, at their first opening by the Arch-Bishop, where it was Ratified, and Confirmed; and in the conclusion, Lancaster was crwoned in his stead, by the name of Henry the Fourth, altho' the Earl of March, who had formerly been declared Heir of the Crown, was then Living. Henry, having thus ascended Richards Throne, used all imaginable care to retain the hearts of those, who had appeared for his interest, and win over or at least weaken those who had opposed him, and withal sent ambassadors to the neighbouring Princes, to justify his unjust proceedings. But the French King, nor yet the People of Aquitain, who were then Subject to the English Crown, would not allow of his pretence, and the Citizens of bordeaux openly declared, that, since the World began, there never was so base, unreasonable, and wicked a thing done: affirming, that the good King was betrayed by faithless Men, and that all Law and Justice was thereby Violated. Nor were there wanting those in England, who still favoured the declining cause of the Deposed King, and secretly endeavoured to advance him to his Throne again; which, being discovered, proved the occasion of his Death, and their own Ruin. The first and main Contriver, and Manager, of this Conspiracy, was the Abbot of Westminster, moved thereunto as well by his fears, that Henry would prove no very great friend to the Clergy, as his love to Richard; and therefore concluding, that Henrys preferment was occasioned, rather out of hatred to Richards ill Government, than from any love to himself, and that therefore the one being Deposed, the other was not now so much desired, in regard he was only coveted to exclude the former, which being effected, and the People, who are naturally fickle, being usually greedy of what they desire, and soon weary of, and cloyed with, what they enjoy: He imagined that it would be a matter of no extraordinary difficulty, to destroy him, and inthrone Richard again. And looking upon the Dukes of Exeter, Surry, and Aumarl, the Earls of Huntingdon, Kent, Salisbury, and gloucester, and the Bishop of carlisle, to be fit persons to be drawn into the Conspiracy, he therefore invited them, and as many more as he thought convenient, to a great Feast, at which he began to bewail the deplorable Miseries of the times, the unjust Imprisonment of a King, to whom by Nature, their oaths of Allegiance, and many particular Favours they were obliged, together with their own loss in his fall, and finding that this Discourse had its desired effect, and that he had thereby prepared them for what he had further to impart to them, he proceeded, and told them, that he was resolved to endeavour the Re-Establishing Richard, by the Death of Henry, if they would but join with him, in the effecting of it: Affirming, that it would be a thing easy enough to effect, and that he was certain, the People would be well enough content therewith, since their heat was now over, and most of those Persons removed, whom they were most offended at, and in regard they should by that means free themselves from the fear of those Wars they were threatened with from France, Scotland, and Wales. The Abbot having represented the thing so easy to be done, they Unanimously promised their assistance, and fell to debating what method they should take for the effecting of it. The Duke of Exeter was for appointing a Tilting at Christmas following, wherein himself with Twenty Gentlemen more would challenge the Earl of Salisbury, with a like number, to which Tilting the King was to be invited, where he and all his Children were to have been slain. A business easy enough to have been brought to pass, had it not been discovered, in regard the King, being voided of suspicion, would have gon altogether unprovided to defend himself against their attempt, his ordinary Guards serving rather for Show than Service, and they, under pretence of Pomp, being attended with great numbers of Armed Men. The Project being liked by the whole company, they resolved to follow it, and every one having vowed to be Faithful and True to the Design, Six of the Principal men among them caused the form of their agreement to be drawn up in a Writing, to which they all Subscribed and Sealed, each of those Six Persons keeping a copy thereof, which afterwards brought the whole Conspiracy to light, by the miscarrying of one of those Copies. Exeter acquaints Henry with the Tilting, which was appointed between him and Salisbury, importuning him to afford them the Honour of his presence, and be their Judge, if any difference should rise; Henry, suspecting no Treachery, in so plausible a pretence, accepted the invitation, and promised to be there. Whereupon, every man providing himself with what number of men they could get together, under the pretence of Magnificence, they repaired forthwith to Oxford, the place where the Tilting was appointed to have been, expecting the King, and whole Court, would be there the next day. The only Person who was wanting was the Duke of Aumarl, who having sent his Men before, went himself to visit his Father, the Duke of York, who lived then at a Country-house of his in the way thither. And being importuned by his Father, to stay dinner, it fortuned, that, as they sat at Table, the old Man perceived part of the subscribed Paper to hang out of his Son's Bosom; where he had put it for the greater security; and wondering what it might be, suddenly snatched it away, and having viewed the Contents of it, and the six Seals, whereof one he knew to be his Sons, he was so enraged thereat, that, rising immediately from Table, he commanded his Horse to be made ready, and having first reproached his Son for having been first false to Richard, and then turning Traitor to Henry, telling him he was witty in finding out Inventions to ruin his Father, but to prevent it, he would now undo him. And that he should remember, how the last Parliament he had been bound for him Body for Body, and Goods for Goods: And assured him, that since he had hitherto made so little an account of his Father's Head, he would now make as small account of his. Which being said, he immediately mounted, and rid Post towards Windsor, where the King then was. Aumarl seeing it was impossible to draw his Father from his resolution of discovering the Plot to the King, and that he was gon towards Windsor in order thereunto, and considering, that the thing being discovered, it was unlikely to bring it to pass; but on the contrary, his Life was now in danger, he resolved to prevent his Father, and therefore mounted likewise, and rid so fast, that he got to Windsor before him; and as soon as he entred the Castle, he clapped to the doors after him, telling those who stood by, that his so doing was for the King's Service. As soon as he came where the King was, he presently threw himself down at his Feet, imploring his Pardon: who being astonished at the strangeness and unexpectedness of the Novelty, demanded what was his Offence? which when he understood, and heard him relate the whole story of the Conspiracy, he was still the more amazed; but however promised him Mercy, if the thing proved as he had related: but if otherwise, he threatened him with inevitable ruin. In the mean time came the Duke of York to the door, and finding it shut, he required it to be opened; which being done, he went forthwith to the King, and without any previous Circumstances, he put the Conspirators Contract into the King's hands: who finding thereby, that his Death was really contrived, as Aumarl had discovered, he therefore put off his Journey to Oxford, and resolved to stay at Windsor, there to attend the Conspirators new Resolutions. He immediately, by special Messengers, sent word of it to the Earls of Northumberland and westmoreland; the first being Lord High-Constable, and the second Lord Marshal of England; and to all his other Friends, whom he knew to be faithful and true to his Interest, to the end that they might immediately repair to the Court, and bring with them what Forces they could get together. The Duke of Exeter, notwithstanding he had married Henry's Sister, was more set upon the King's ruin than any of the rest, wherefore he made greater provision of Men and Arms than any other, insomuch that it was taken notice of by his Lady, who plainly told him, that those extrraodinary Preparations were designed for something more than their pretended Tilting, and that she feared they were designed to Kill the King, her Brother, than which nothing in the World could more trouble or distracted her mind, since thereby one of the two persons, whom she loved above all others in the World, must inevitably perish. He endeavoured to comfort her, telling her, that she had no reason to take it so much to heart, since by being the Wife of the one, and the Sister of the other, she was thereby secured of sharing in either of their good Fortunes, and against being involved in the Miseries of either of their Ruins, and thereupon giving her his last Kiss, he left her weeping, and went to Oxford. Where when they were all arrived, and found Aumarl wanting, and no Preparations made for the King, nor so much as any News of it, they concluded their Plot was discovered, and therefore since they could have but small hopes of a Pardon, many of them having been condemned, and pardonned before, they resolved in so desperate a Case, to take desperate Resolutions, and attempt that by Force, which they had failed of by Treachery. And the better to colour the business, they clothed Magdalun( who had formerly been King Richard's Chaplain, and did very much resemble him) in Royal Robes, reporting that being assisted by his Keepers, he had made his escape out of Prison. By which Artifice they deceived the ignorant, and amassed together about Forty Thousand Men, wherewith they intended to surprise the King at Windsor; but he, hearing of their coming, withdrew himself to London, whither they intended to pursue him, and take him unprovided. But Henry, hearing of their approach, went forth to meet them with Twenty Thousand Soldiers, being not at all disheartened at the small Number of his own Men, nor affrighted at the Multitude of the Enemy. But they on the contrary, notwithstandstanding their Numbers, were so distrustful of themselves, that they shunned the Encounter, and returned towards Reading, where the Queen was; to whom they affirmed, that Richard was at Pomfret in York-shire, with an Army of One Hundred Thousand Men, and that Henry of Lancaster, with his Children and Friends, had shut himself up in the Tower of London, not daring to come forth; and the better to persuade the Queen into a belief of it, they took Henry's cognisances from those of the Queens Servants, who wore them, as if Richard had already been repossessed of his Crown. So that now they made no further use of Magdalun's Pageantry, for fear of a discovery. When they went from Reading, they went to Cicester, a small Village, near which place Surry and Salisbury took up their Lodgings, and Exeter and gloucester theirs in another, leaving their Army in the field. Whereupon the Townsmen, who were now informed that things were not as they had reported them to be, got together about Midnight, and beset the House wherein the two former were lodged, and endeavoured to seize them; but they with great Courage defended themselves, near fifteen Hours; in all which time Exeter, who was advertised of their danger, was not able to relieve them, by reason his Men were all fled. For a certain Priest in the Town, where Surry was beset, fired several Houses, in hope thereby to withdraw them from their Assault; which was so far from succeeding, that the Countrymen, being but the more enraged thereat, resolved to revenge the Injury by quenching the Fire with the Blood of those who fought against them. And Exeter's Men seeing the Town on fire, concluded that Henry was come, and that it was he who had given battle and fired the Town; which possessed them with such a sudden panic fear, that they presently betook themselves to their heels, accounting him the happiest man who could run fastest. So that Surry and Salisbury being for want of Succour at last forced to yield, they were( altho' so mortally wounded, that they could not have lived long) presently beheaded, and their Heads sent up to London. And twenty nine Persons of Quality, who were taken with them, were sent to Oxford, whither the King was then come, where they were publicly executed. gloucester, endeavouring to escape, was taken in Wales, and sent to Bristol, where he was beheaded. Exeter, who endeavoured several times to have got over into France, but was still beaten back by contrary Winds, was forced to wander up and down unknown; but notwithstanding his disguise, he was at last taken, as he sat at Supper, and carried into the Duke of Glocester's Lands, whose Death he had had some hand in, and there beheaded. Besides those mentioned, there were great numbers executed upon the account of this Conspiracy, and the Highways filled with Men hanged and quartered, and with Heads set upon Poles. As for Magdalun, he fled into Scotland, but was afterwards taken and sent to London, where he was hanged, drawn and quartered. And the Abbot of Westminster, when he understood what miserable Effects his Counsel had caused, fled from the Monastery, and soon after died suddenly of an apoplectic Fit, whereby he escaped the Halter; and so did the Bishop of Carlisle, who died of a violent fever, as some writ; or was again pardonned by Henry, as others affirm. And thus this great Conspiracy came to nothing, but proved more fatal to Richard, whom it was designed to serve, than to Henry, who was to have been destroyed thereby; he being soon after this murdered in Pomfret-Castle; the manner whereof▪ is diversely reported by Historians. The French King had made great Preparations to second this Conspiracy, and the Forces, which he had raised, were just ready to take Shipping, being commanded by the Earl of St. Pauls,( who was a great friend of Richard's) when the News of their defeat arrived there; whereupon they were all disbanded. Charles, upon good advice, demanding only the restitution of his Daughter; which being a request that could not, without manifest injustice, be denied, it was granted, only Henry desired she might still remain in England, in regard her Birth and Years rendered her a fit Match for his Son Henry, Prince of Wales. But Charles, supposing that those different Pretences to the Crown would render an Alliance with England unfortunate, refused it; however, the Peace which Richard had formerly made, was by consent of both parties continued. But Wales and Scotland were not so easily pacified. The first, who ever had a profound respect for Richard, were extremely vexed at his Deposing, and much more incensed at his Death, and therefore they resolved to revenge both, by rebelling against the new King, before he was well established. To which end they made choice of own Glendor for their Prince and Leader: He was descended from the youngest Son of Baron Bromfield, and had some small Possessions in Wales, which lay near adjoining to the Lord Ruthens, between whom and own there arising a dispute, about the extent of their Possessions, they both betook themselves to Arms, resolving to decide the Quarrel by the dint of Sword; wherein own was attended with such success, that having burned the Houses, spoiled the Villages, and slain most of the Servants of the unfortunate Lord, he met with Himself in fight, and took him Prisoner. By which prosperous Success, and his new Promotion, being now grown bold, he ran like Lightning through the neighbouring Frontier Towns with Fire and Sword. But his new Condition requiring new Supports, he proposed to the imprisoned Baron, either to mary his Daughter, or else never enjoy Liberty: The Baron, grown weary of his Captivity, consented to mary her, that so he might procure his enlargement; but nothing being more usual with Tyrants, than breach of Faith, he was forced notwithstanding to remain a Prisoner, till freed by death. Henry not stirring all this while to chastise him for those Outrages, having his hands full elsewhere, he grew the more insolent, and advanced into Hereford-shire, in which County Edmond Mortimer, Earl of March, lived a kind of an obscure, private Life, that so by living at distance from the Court, without any splendour, he might avoid those dangers, which the present circumstances of things might render him liable to, as being, now Richard was dead, the true and rightful Heir of the Crown. own exercising his accustomend Cruelties there, as he had done in other places, so awakened the County, that assembling together, they resolved, under the Conduct of the Earl of March, to give him battle; both sides fought manfully, but Owen's Army being more numerous and better disciplined, he carried the Victory, after his having slain two thousand Men, and took the Earl Prisoner, whom he kept, without any respect to the greatness of his Birth, in a noisome place, at the bottom of a Tower; from which miserable Captivity, Henry was importuned by divers to endeavour his deliverance; but he wholly neglected it, accounting his Imprisonment one of the happiest things that could have befallen him. At the same time Scotland, supposing they had an advantage by Henry's being thus embroiled at home, denounced War against him likewise, upon pretence of his sheltering George Dumbar, Earl of the Marches, who had, upon some difference between that King and him, fled into England with his whole Family. Whereupon Henry resolving that since they would have War, he would make Scotland the Seat of it, and so save them the trouble of coming into England to meet with it, he suddenly invaded them with Fire and Sword, sparing no places, except those which were Holy, and those which had formerly entertained his Father, when he retired thither, but, the Winter drawing on, he was forced to return. Whereupon the Scots made two Incursions into the Countries adjoining to Scotland, wherein they met with little or no opposition, which encouraged them to return a third time; but having then entred Northumberland, and very much enriched themselves by Spoil and Prisoners, they were in their return set upon by the Earl of that County, and most of them slain, together with Patrick Heborne their Leader. To revenge which, Earl Douglass, accompanied with most of the Nobles of Scotland, and followed with a great Army, invaded England with flying Colours, and finding no Forces considerable enough to resist his Outrage, they loaded themselves with the Spoils of the Country; but being got as far back as Hamilton, when he least thought of any such thing, the Lord Percy, who was, for his valour and fierceness, called Hotspur, having with him Dumbar, the inveterate Enemy of the Douglasses, most of the Gentry of Northumberland, and about eight thousand Horse and Foot, issued out of a Valley, and set upon him with incredible fierceness, both sides being big with famed and desire of Victory: the Conflict was long and bloody, till at last Fortune, listing her self under St. George's Banner, thought it no Sacrilege, to trample down that of St. Andrew. Douglass,( who had in the battle lost an Eye) and several others of the Nobles of Scotland were taken Prisoners, and most of the Gentry, and ten thousand common Soldiers were slain. Upon this Success, Percy entred Scotland, which, being voided of defence, he miserable ransacked. And now King Henry found himself at leisure to chastise own Glendor, to which end he provided sufficient Forces; but the French King, hearing of it, resolved to assist him, hoping thereby in some measure to revenge the Injury done to his Daughter, by the Deposing and murder of Richard. And therefore he sent him two thousand Men, who, landing in the Night about Plymmouth, burnt and pillaged all the neighbouring Villages, not sparing the Abode or Boats of the poorest Fisherman, but having, by the violency of the Weather, lost twelve of their best Ships, and understanding that the Country-people, upon firing of the Beacons, were gathering together to give them battle, they with much difficulty reimbark'd themselves, and went to St. Maloes, which was so far from assuaging their French heat, that having provided a Fleet of Eighty Ships, and Twelve Thousand Soldiers, they once again put to Sea, and landing at Milford Haven they marched to Denbigh, doing all the Outrage as they went along by Fire and Sword, as is usually done in an Enemies Country. Where Glendor, who stayed there with Ten Thousand of his own Men, in expectation of them, having joined them, they directed their course towards Worcester, intending to besiege it, but being terrified with the News of the King's approach, they only fired the Suburbs, and so retired back again into Wales, where they fortified themselves upon a Hill. Henry pursued them, and encamped himself likewise upon another Hill, opposite to them, with a resolution to give them battle; but there being a Valley between the two Armies, which was disadvantageous to those who should first advance; they lay eight days in sight of each other, without fighting, only there happened some slight skirmishes, wherein some few were slain on both sides; but Henry having cut off their Supplies of Victuals, he thereby forced them either to pass the Valley and fight, or else to retire: But being fearful of tempting King Henry's Fortune, they thought that since they must either fight, or fly, the later was the safer course; wherefore about Midnight they raised their Camp, and marched away through woody and mountainous places. As soon as Henry understood it, he pursued them, but they, having the advantage of knowing those intricate ways better than he, intercepted his Supplies of Victuals, and thereby reduced him into the same necessity and want, which he before had brought them into; which, together with the approach of Winter, forced him to give over the enterprise till the ensuing Spring. In the mean while, the French gave him some disturbance, the Earl of St. Pauls, making a vain attempt upon the Isle of Wight, but being beaten off, they were more Successful in Gascony, where they took several strong Towns. Nor was he more quiet at home, where a great storm, raised by a strange and unusual accident, threatened his ruin; for commanding the Scotch Nobles, who were lately taken prisoners at Hamilton, should be delivered to him, the Earls of Northumberland, and Worcester, who were Brothers, and the Lord Henry Percy, Northumberlands Eldest Son, who had them in their keeping, told him, that they belonged not to him, being their Prey, won by them at the hazard of their Lives, and the expense of their Blood. The Earl of Worcester, who had been the Steward of Richards household, was the Person who gave the advice to his Brother and Nephew, and about the same time likewise he went to the King at Windsor, and told him, That in regard the Earl of March's being taken Prisoner by Glendor, was occasioned by his indeavouing to serve him, in defending his Subjects from his outrages, he ought to procure his freedom, either by Ransom, or some other means. The King, perceiving whither this request tended, after a little pause, answered, He was not taken Prisoner in his Service, but by his own consent, thereby to prevent his being forced to own himself an Enemy to Glendor. Which answer he reported to his Brother and Nephew, with what aggravations his Malice to Henry could suggest; who both stormed thereat, especially the Lord Percy, saying, That if he had been taken by his own consent, Glendor would have treated him better, and not have kept him in Fetters? But Henry, having usurped his Kingdom, thought not only his Imprisonment, but even his Life to, would redound to his advantage, if it could handsomely have been effected. And thereupon having first ransomed the Earl of March, and entred into a confederacy with Glendor, they raised a great Army, and prevailed with the Scotch Prisoners to join with them; likewise promising them their Liberty, and to Earl Douglass the Town of Berwick, and part of Northumberland to boot, with which young Percy drew into the Field; his Father, who was then sick, promising to follow him, so soon as he should recover his health. Worcester met him at Stafford, and from thence they marched towards Shrewsbury, giving out, that Richard was yet alive, and was then at Chester, and that their design was to invest him in his Throne, which was injuriously usurped by Henry. But Dumbar, who, detesting so great a villainy, had forsaken them and fled to the King, persuaded Henry to follow them close at the heels, thereby to prevent their joining with Glendor. And Henry, following his advice, pursued them to Shrewsbury, which Percy had a design upon; but being prevented by the King's approach, he resolved to adventure on giving battle, his Soldiers promising to die in his defence, and to free the Kingdom from being governed by a Tyrant, as he had made them believe Henry to be; in order whereunto he sent a Writing to the King,( wherein he only styled him Duke of Lancaster) the Contents whereof was, That notwithstanding he had, when he first returned to England, protested that he came only to recover his own Estate, and had no pretence to the Crown, he had acted quiter otherwise, and both seized on the Kingdom, and murdered the King, and that the Kingdom did of right belong to the Earl of March, whom he, for that reason, had refused to ransom, and because they had set him at liberty, he had proclaimed them Traitors. And that therefore they did defy him, as a perjured Man, and a false Usurper of the Crown, which properly belonged to the Earl of March; And that with him they defied all his Complices who took part with him, as false Traitors and Destroyers of the State. Which Writing was subscribed by Northumberland, Worcester, and young Percy. Henry, when he had red the Letter, without any discomposure, said merrily to the Messengers, That his Sword should answer the Scandalous Falshoods of that Imperious Paper. But yet wisely considering, that to hazard his Estate, Life, and Honour upon the Fate of one single battle, would be an act of rashness, if it could possibly be avoided; and that it was Wisdom in Princes, to prefer their own Safety, and their Subjects Lives, before revenging themselves upon the Injuries offered them by their Enemies, especially since a lost battle would prove so ruinous and irreparable a loss in a declining Fortune, He resolved to try if he could bring them to some reasonable Terms, rather than trust to the inconstancy of Fortune, which was not to be tried till the last extremity: In order whereunto, he sent them an offer of Pardon, if they would yield to reasonable Conditions. The Lord Percy, having received this offer of Pardon, and considering, as Henry had done, the uncertain event of War, accepted the Proposition, and sent his Uncle, the Earl of Worcester, to treat with the King about it, who entertained him with a more than ordinary submissiveness, and condescended to satisfy all his demands. Notwithstanding which, he was so inveterate in his Malice to the King, and so confident of Success, judging the King's Concessions were the effect of Fear and cowardice, told his Cousin, that the King stood upon high Terms, and would grant nothing which they required. Whereupon, thinking himself undervalued, he commanded the sign of battle to be immediately given by sound of Trumpet. The King's Forces sustained their first Onset with an undaunted Bravery; but the Welsh coming to their assistance, the vanguard gave ground, and had been routed, had not the King relieved them with his own Battalion; whereupon young Percy advanced his likewise, resolving, if possible, to kill the King, and thereby assure to himself the Victory; which Dumbar perceiving, by their falling with so much violence upon that Quarter, that they bore down the Royal Standard, and slay most of those who did defend it: He did, with much importunity, prevail with the King to remove to another place; which if he had not done, he had not in all probability survived that day. Henry having with his remove renewed his Courage and Valour, and being desirous of revenge, by fighting and commanding, performed the part both of a Wise and Valiant General, and a Courageous Soldier; And Earl Douglass, who sought after him, having at last found him fighting in one of the hottest parts of the battle, he bore him down to the ground with his Spear; But getting on Horseback again, and being enraged at the overthrow, he performed such heroic Actions, as almost surmounted all belief, slaying with his own hands, as Historians affirm, Thirty Six of his Enemies. Douglass, believing that he had slain Henry, pressed forward still, and meeting with a second and a third, whose upper Garments were like the Kings, he slay, or at least overthrew, them both, but knew not what to think of his having encountered so many Kings in one battle. Henry, Prince of Wales, was wounded in the Face by a Dart; notwithstanding which, altho' he were then but a very Youth, he could not be persuaded to withdraw from the battle, to have his Wounds dressed, but by his undaunted Courage gave sufficient proof, that he would be that valiant King he afterwards proved. The King's Forces being mightily encouraged, by seeing the valiant Acts of King Henry and his Son, pressed hard upon the Rebels; in the midst whereof young Percy, fighting according to his accustomend Valour and Bravery, was slain; upon which Henry's Men began to cry out Victory: which Douglass hearing, and finding that he was no longer able to withstand King Henry's Fortune, he set Spurs to his Horse, and sled, but stumbling upon the top of an Hill, he fell down, and, being much bruised with the fall, was taken prisoner, and so was Worcester, and several more, who were executed as Traitors, but Douglas, in regard he was no subject, but a professed Enemy, was by Henry, who thereby approved himself to be of a mildred and generous Nature, commended and admired for his valorous Attempts, and set at liberty, without Ransom. But own Glendor, and the Earl of Northumberland, remaining still as dangerous Enemies to Henry, he sent the Prince of Wales, against the former; who finding the welsh very much terrified and possessed with fear, upon the account of Henry's Victory at Shrewsbury. He chased them over the Mountains and through the Wood, till Glendor, being forsaken by all men, was reduced to that extremity, that, as some Historians report, he dyed of Hunger, ending his Life, his Hopes, and his Principality together. And the Earl of Northumberland, being destitute of succour, yielded himself to Henry, and was pardonned. But these Troubles were no sooner over, but a Priest, who hated Henry, contriving how he might get him destroyed, made a Catalogue of the Names of all such as he knew had been obliged by Richard, taking it for granted, that they would easily have been prevailed upon to undertake the Business, and therefore he adventured to set down their Names, as if they had really given their Consent. And the Priest being discovered and taken with the List about him, those, whose Names were found therein, were looked upon as Traitors, but by a free and voluntary Confession, that he had never treated with any one of them, but it was an Idea of his own, upon a bare presumption that some of them having been rewarded by Richard, and others injured by Henry, they would be willing to effect his ruin, he saved their lives and justly condemned his own. A Franciscan friar likewise, and Eight more of his Order, for being Authors of certain scandalous Libels against the King, and for saying, that if King Richard were alive, they would fight for him, as long as they could stand, against all men whatsoever, were condemned to be hanged; and so was Sir Roger Clarington( who was bastard Brother to King Richard) and two more. About this time, one shirley, who having been one of the Gentlemen of Richard's Bedchamber, had withdrawn himself to France, hearing that Richard was alive in Scotland, as he had divers times before been reported to be, he went thither, to know the truth. And notwithstanding, as soon as he saw the pretended Richard, he knew him to be an Impostor, yet, out of hatred to Henry, he resolved to lay hold of that pretence, and endeavour thereby, if possible, to deprive him of his Kingdom: And therefore, causing a Seal to be made, exactly like that which Richard was wont to use, and having written divers Letters to Richard's Friends in England, in his Name, he Sealed them with the same, by means whereof, many of those who received them did believe that Richard really sent them; and the old Countess of Oxford, mother to that Princes Favourite, the Duke of Ireland, confidently published the certainty thereof, and caused a great many Stags, which was Richard's Cognizance to be made in Gold and Silver, which she bestowed on those who depended on her, that they might wear them so soon as he should have entred England, and sent her Secretary into Essex to persuade people to take part with him: But by her too much boldness herein, it was discovered, and her self condemned to spend the rest of her daies in a close Prison, and her Secretary to end his journey in a Halter. And shirley understanding that his Plot took not its desired effect, and not having money to defray his Charge back again to France, he went to Berwick to Sir William Clifford, who being a friend to Richard, and the Earl of Northumberland, he thought he would have furnished him with money, to have carried him to France. But he having kept the place against the Kings Will, refusing to resign it upon his Command, and considering that his respect to Richard was now useless, and that being thereby guilty of High Treason, he was liable to be besieged, taken and executed; in which case he could hope for no relief from Northumberland, who was now depressed: He detained shirley, and sent him to the King, who, being condemned to Death, for his witty Contrivance, confessed himself to be one of them who had Strangled the Duke of Gloucester. Northumberland's hatred being but the more increased, by the Overthrow and Slaughter of his Son, and Brother, he resolved to venture upon another Rebellion, to revenge the miscarriage of the former. To which end, he together with Mowbray, Earl Marshal, and Richard le Scrope, Arch-Bishop of York, the Lord Bardolph, and the Lord Hastings, Conspired his ruin, agreeing among themselves to meet at an appointed time, with what forces each of them could get, which were all to have been united, under the Command of the Earl of Northumberland. But the Arch-Bishops being too forward therein, broken the neck of the Design: For as soon as he and the Earl Marshal were return'd to York, from the Consult, he thought to facilitate the Design, by making it appear honest and commendable; to which purpose, he drew up several Articles, wherein he gave an account of the Reasons of their taking Arms, and endeavoured thereby to justify their intended Proceedings. And having first sent several Copies of them into other Countries, he caused them to be set upon the Church doors; thereby inviting the People to take arms, and reform the abuses introduced by the ill administration of Henry's Government. And the Bishop being a man of much pretended Holiness, and having, till then, lead a harmless and unblamable Life, the People thought him free from any evil intention, and therefore Twenty Thousand men immediately slocked to him. Henry hearing of it sent the Earl of westmoreland, and one of his youngest Sons, against him, who finding when he came to York, that the Arch-Bishop had encamped himself in the field, and that he was not strong enough to give him battle, he encamped himself over against him, and sent him word, that he wondered to find a man of his Profession engaged in a Rebellion, and disturbing the Kings Peace. To which he answered, He did not design to infringe the Kings Peace, but to preserve it, and thereupon shewed the messenger the Articles, and for the Earls better satisfaction, sent them to him by a Gentleman of his own. The Earl pretended to be highly satisfied therewith, and therefore desired a meeting with the Arch-Bishop to treat about their mutual Agreement. The Arch-Bishop, being overjoyed to hear his actions applauded by him that was sent to oppose him, was confident, when they came together, he should win him over to their side, and therefore agreed to the meeting, without the least scruple, which was appointed in a place between the two Camps, each of them being to carry an equal number of men to attend them. The Earl Marshal, at first, disliked it, and refused to go to the meeting, but being overcome with the Bishops importunity, he at last consented. And being met, westmoreland, after some discourse of the business, pretended to be persuaded, and protested that he would venture his Life in so just a Quarrel, and thereupon, calling for Wine, they shook hands, and drank to each other, in sight of both their Armies; and then the Earl told him, that their Differences being now composed, and they mutually agreed, it would not be amiss for them to disband their Armies, that so they might likewise enjoy the benefit of their Agreement; to which, being altogether voided of suspicion, he consented; and the Armies being sent away, they went into the City together, both of them being extremely satisfied with what they had done, tho' upon different reasons. And whilst they were drinking and making merry, the Earl's Men, who knew what they had to do, stolen together again, and thereupon the Earl arrested the Archbishop, and the Earl Marshal, and carried them to the King, who was come to Pomfret: Whereupon Henry advanced to York, where they were both adjudged to lose their Heads; and having fined the City, he went towards Northumberland, and caused two Lords, and as many Knights, who were in the Conspiracy, to be executed at Durham. Northumberland, being informed of his Associates Misfortune, retired to Berwick; but not thinking himself safe enough there, he went to Scotland. When the King came to Berwick, he found it resolved not to yield, and therefore commanded a Piece of Cannon to be planted against the Castle, with which he made a very great breach at the first shot; whereat the Defendants being exceedingly amazed, it being a sort of Instrument that they had never seen before, and for ought I can find to the contrary, that was the first time, that ever any Cannon was used in England, they yielded themselves to the King's Pleasure, without any Conditions, who hanged some, and imprisoned others; and by this means got possession of all the Earl of Northumberlands Seats, and then returned home. Northumberland having in the mean time employed himself in going up and down to procure Aid against the King, going first to France, from thence to Flanders, and then to Wales; but having but small success therein, he at last returned again to Scotland, and having there gotten together some Forces, he fell with great violence upon Northumberland, where recovering several Castles, and having increased his Army, he marched into Yorkshire, inviting by Proclamation all those to side with him, that loved Liberty. Henry hearing of it, prepared to give him battle; but as he was on his march toward him, he understood that Sir Thomas Rookesby, High-Sheriff of York-shire, had given him battle, and slain him, and that he had taken the Lord Bardolf and several others Prisoners: Bardolf soon after died of his Wounds; and of the rest of the Prisoners, some were pardonned, and others executed. After which, Henry lived the remainder of his Reign in peace and quiet, having none to molest or disturb him: But having in the Year 1413. prepared to go into the Holy Land, and being just ready to embark himself, he was taken with a sudden Apoplexy, which compelled him to take a longer Voyage: In one of his fits, all men thinking he had been dead, Prince Henry took the Crown, which the King had, in his sickness, caused to be placed on a Pillow at his Beds-head, and withdrew himself into another Chamber; but recovering out of that fit, and missing the Crown, and being told who had taken it away, he presently commanded him to be sent for, and being come, he demanded, how he durst presume to meddle with that, which did not belong to him? To which the Prince replied, I know, Sir, the Crown is none of mine, whilst you live, and long may you live to wear it; but we did all think you had been dead, and I, being your eldest Son, and consequently your Heir, took it as the chief part of my Inheritance. The King, fetching a deep sigh, replied, You say well, my Son, but with what right I have enjoyed it, God only knows. Be it as it will, replied the Prince, you got it by the Sword, and by the Sword I resolve, when it is mine, to maintain it. The King, being pleased with his Son's resolution, commended him to the Protection of the Almighty, and giving him Directions how to live well, soon after died, March 20. 1413. in the Fourteenth Year of his Reign, being a Prince of such extraordinary Qualifications, say some Historians, that tho' he were not born a King, yet he deserved to die one. Henry, Prince of Wales, who was, in regard he was born at Monmouth, called Henry of Monmouth, succeeded him, who having been somewhat wild, when he was Prince of Wales, Charles, the Dauphin of France, sent him in derision, a Tun of Paris Tennis Balls, as a Present; in requital whereof, he sent him word, he would shortly sand him some London Balls, which should make Paris-Walls to shake; and having, in order to the performing of his promise, made great preparation for the Invading that Kingdom, and being, at Southampton, ready to embark himself, he discovered a Conspiracy to murder him, contrived by the Earl of Cambridge, who was Brother to the Duke of York, Cousin German to the two former Kings, Henry the Fourth, and Richard the Second, and Grandson to Edward the Third; he had married and, great Grandchild to Lionel, Duke of Clarence, and Sister to Edmond Mortimer, Earl of March, the true Heir of the Crown, whom he designed, when he had killed King Henry and his Brethren, to advance to the Throne, in hope, that he having no Children, nor likely to have any, the Crown would have descended to him and his Son, by the right of his Wife, who was next Heir to Edmond. There were two more, who were engaged with him in this Conspiracy, viz. the Lord Henry Scrope, and Sir Thomas Grey, who were all executed for the same. The manner of discovering this Treason is somewhat uncertainly reported by Historians, but that which seems most probable, is, That the Earl having thus contrived Henry's death, and the advancing Edmond, in hope, as I said before, to succeed himself, or his Son at least, he revealed his design to him, endeavouring to draw him to a consent, and, by many threatenings, compelled him to swear secrecy, and to promise, that within an Hour he would give in his Answer. Whereupon, March having no Children, and being himself of a peaceable nature, and voided of ambition, he resolved not to hazard his own Life to please his Brother-in-Laws aspiring Humour, and therefore repairing immediately to the King, he privately discovered it to him. The business of this Plot being over, the King set sail for France, with fifteen hundred Sail of Ships, and, at his very first arrival, took Harflew, a very convenient Port, and then marching further up into the Country, he fought and routed an Army six times, some writ ten times, his number, in which battle the Duke of York was slain. After this Victory Henry returned to England, and entred London in a triumphant manner, the Citizens presenting him with a Thousand Pound, and two Gold basins. And a Parliament, which he soon after called, granted him a Subsidy, and a Tenth, for carrying on his Wars; but that being too little, he pawned his Crown to Cardinal Beaufort for a great sum of Money, and his Jewels to the Lord Mayor of London for Ten Thousand Marks: And then with an Army of resolute Men he passed into France, where he won several strong Places, and obtained immortal Honour. Whilst he was in France, the Scots entred England, bringing with them one whom they pretended was King Richard, and that they came to re-establish him in his Throne. They laid close siege to Roxbrough and Berwick, but hearing that there was an Army of English upon their march, to give them battle, they retired with some hast and disorder. In the mean time Henry prosecuted his War in France with such vigour, that he carried all before him, and made most Places, where he came, to yield to him; so that in the end King Charles was forced to obtain Peace, by consenting that King Henry should mary his Daughter, the Lady Catharine, and that he should be acknowledged King of France, only Charles was to enjoy the Title during his Life; which Agreement being over, he returned to England: But soon after returned again to suppress the Dauphin, who endeavoured to maintain his Title. The Queen being, in the time of his absence, delivered of a Son at Windsor, who was likewise called Henry; the News thereof reaching the King, as he lay before Meaux, he was highly pleased therewith; but yet, displeased with the place of his Birth, he is reported to have said, I Henry of Monmouth have Reigned a few Years, and have got much, and Henry of Windsor shall Reign long, and lose all at last. Soon after this, the Queen went over to the King, and they kept the Feast of Pentecost in the Louvre, where they both sate in their Majesty, arrayed in their Royal Robes, and having their Imperial Crowns on their heads: But in the prime of his Days, and in the midst of his Victories, he was forced to submit himself to a greater Conqueror, dying August 31. 1422. Henry of Windsor succeeded him, in whose Reign the Civil Wars between the two Houses, which had by his Father's activity, and the Wars with France, been laid asleep, were revived again, after about Forty Years recess. King Henry was crwoned at Eight Months old; the Care of his Person being committed to the Duke of Exeter, his Diet to the Queen Dowager, and the Government of the Kingdom, and the Regency of France, to his two Uncles, humphrey Duke of gloucester, and John Duke of Bedford. The French King did not survive the King of England above a Month and some few Days; upon whose death the Dauphin was proclaimed King of France, by some few who cleaved to him; and altho' he then enjoyed little more then the Dukedom of Berry, yet he endeavoured to enlarge his Dominions, by the help of some Forces, which he received from Italy and Scotland; but the Duke of Bedford gave him battle, and overthrew him, the Constable and Lieutenant of France, and Five Thousand others, being slain. But in regard I design not to treat of matters in general, but only of the Wars occasioned by the different Pretences to the Crown, I shall omit the rest of Henry's Reign, till I come to the Affairs which immediately preceded and were the occasion of rousing that sleeping War, which proved so fatal to both Houses, and to the Nation in general. Edmond, Earl of March, being dead, he was succeeded in the Earldom of March, and his Title to the Crown, by Richard, Earl of Cambridge, Son to Richard, Earl of Cambridge, who was beheaded for conspiring to kill King Henry the Fifth, at Southampton, when he was embarking himself for his first Invasion of France. About which time an unhappy difference fell out between the Duke of gloucester, and the Cardinal of Winchester, who was the King's great Uncle, both of them Men of great Spirits, desirous to Command, but hating to Obey, but especially the Cardinal, whose Pride and Ambition was so exorbitant, that he affirmed, the Government of the King belonged more properly to him than to gloucester. And to such an height did this difference arise, that there was a great Guard kept night and day, for fear, lest their private difference should have broken out into public mischief among their Adherents; and Winchester knowing he could not ruin him, so long as he and the Duke of Bedford were united, he endeavoured to win him over to his side; wherefore, writing to him, he acquainted him with the difference, assuring him, that if he did not immediately come for England, his Brother would certainly be the occasion of abundance of mischief, which he prayed God to prevent. This News made such an impression upon the Duke, that leaving the Earl of Warwick, his Lieutenant in the Regency, he came to England, and repairing immediately to Lancaster, where the Parliament then sate, he blamed those Lords who had sided in this difference,( not naming his Uncle or Brother) telling them, that their folly had endangered the Peace both of the King and Kingdom, and very much damaged the English Affairs in France; exhorting them therefore to lay aside their Passions, and become more peaceable and moderate in their carriage to each other. Notwithstanding which, gloucester, in full Parliament, complained, That he was, by the Cardinal's advice, notwithstanding his being Governor of the Kingdom, denied entrance into the Tower; That he endeavoured to seize the King, and carry him from Eltham to Windsor, without his own or the Councils consent; That when he resolved to hinder him, he caused the Bridge to be shut, and the Chains to be drawn against him, endeavouring, by the assistance of armed men, to have slain him; And lastly, That in the time of Henry the Fourth, a Man being, by the barking of a Dog, discovered behind the Hangings of the great Chamber in Westminster; he confessed, upon being examined by the Earl of Arundel, that he was placed there by the Bishop of Winchester, to kill Prince Henry in his Bed. The Parliament were not inclined to believe this Accusation, which was most of it false and improbable, even before the Bishop made his defence; but when he had given in his Answer to the several Articles of his Charge, he thereby so justified his Innocency, that all men were satisfied: whereupon the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, the Dukes of Exeter and Norfolk, the Bishops of Durham, Worcester and Bath, the Earl of Stafford, the Lord Privy-Seal, and the Lord cromwell, were appointed, by the rest of the Peers, to decide the difference between them; who having made them promise, that both They and all their Adherents should stand to their Award, framed a certain set-form of Words for them to speak to each other, the King being present, at the same time, in the House of Peers; which being done, they shook hands, and seemed to be very good friends. Henry, who being of a very quiet and peaceable nature, and hating all kind of quarrels and differences, was highly pleased with this Reconciliation, and declared the pleasure he took therein, by Solemn Feasting and Mirth: To increase the splendour whereof, he Created Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Cambridge, Duke of York; his Uncle, who last enjoyed that Title, being slain at the first battle which Henry the Fifth fought in France, commonly called the battle of Agencourt, and, dying without Issue, his Title and Estate had fallen of course to this Richard, who, being his Brother's eldest Son, was his next Heir, had not his being tainted in Blood, by his Father's Treason, bebarred him thereof. But being now restored in Blood, and promoted to this and other Honours and Places of Trust, by Henry, he was thereby emboldened to attempt the pulling down him, by whom he was raised, and contend with him even for the Crown itself; which he and his Son Edward, by force and violence, rent from Henry and his Lancastrian Family, although, in all probability, he would not otherwise have arrived at confidence enough to have made Friends and Wealth, wherewith to have maintained his Claim. But Henry, by his Creation, and other Honours which he perpetually heaped upon him, chalked him out the way, and lead him by insensible steps to the Conquest of his Kingdom. And the first considerable step he made towards Sovereignty, was, his procuring himself to be made Regent of France, upon the death of the heroic Bedford, although the King had several nearer Relations, who looked to have been preferred before him, and finding themselves rejected, thought to revenge the supposed Injury, by finding means to delay his repairing thither; which proved more fatal to the King and Kingdom, than to him: for Paris, and all the chief Places the English held in France, were in the mean time lost, which, by impoverishing the King, and discontenting the Subjects, tended to the advancing his design: But having, at last, gotten what was necessary for his Voyage, he went to Normandy, and entred upon his Charge, which he managed with such Prudence and Justice, that although he were present at no one Action of War, during his whole Regency, except the taking of Fescampe, yet when he resigned it to the Earl of Warwick, who was sent thither to succeed him therein, he left behind him the reputation of a Wise, a Just, and Fortunate governor. And, upon the death of Warwick, who died in his Regency, he was sent over again, and thereby had an opportunity to scrue himself higher in the Peoples Affections, by rendering his Valour as much admired now, as his Wisdom had been before. For, upon his first coming over, the King of France, followed by most of his Nobles, attempting the recovery of Pontouse, York went, with Eight Thousand Men, to raise the Siege, offering, by his Heralds, to give him battle; which Charles refused, upon a presumption, that the River being between him and York, he could, by securing the Bridge, prevent his passing over, to force him thereunto. But the Duke commanding Sir John Talbot to advance toward the Bridge, as tho' he were resolved to force his way over, he, in the mean while, sent some of his Men over the River, in Boats which he had brought with him in Carts, who presently made a Bridge of Boats and Planks, fastened together with Ropes, over which he marched his whole Army, before Charles, who was busied in making good the Bridge against Talbot, had any notice of his design; so that finding himself reduced to a necessity of fighting or flying, he choose the later, not daring to run the hazard of battle, the loss whereof might have proved very fatal to him; and therefore, rising in the night, he retired to Poiesy. The Duke, who had by break of day, put his Men in battle-array, finding him gone, pursued him, but could by no means draw him to fight. After this, the Duke resolving to preserve what remained in the hands of the English, and recover as much as possible of what they had lost, he removed the War into the Enemies Country, that so he might, by assaulting them at home, prevent them from molesting the English Territories; to which end, he drew forth the best Soldiers out of all his Garrisons, and divided them into three parts: The Lord Willoughby Commanding the first, Sir John Talbot the second, and himself and Somerset the third, which entering Picardy, Anjou, main and Normandy, they did the French a world of damage, and reduced several Places to the Obedience of the English. Whilst things were thus managed in France, Glocester's ruin was contrived in England; who forgetting that the death of Bedford had lessened the Authority which was due to him, as Uncle and Protector of the King: And provoked by the Cardinals Pride and Insolency, whose ambition was now grown so high, that, he pretended the good of the King and Kingdom depended upon the sagacity of his advice. He preferred twenty four Articles against him, some whereof touched likewise upon the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury,( which procured him also to be his Enemy) the consideration whereof was referred to the Council; which, consisting chiefly of Ecclesiastical Persons, found means, in favour of the two great Prelates, to delude the Duke with fair promises, whereby the whole business was butted in silence, and no more heard of it: For the Duke, being of a temper more violent than revengeful, remained satisfied in having vented his Choler, though the Cardinals insolency was never punished. Whilst, on the contrary, the Cardinal was, notwithstanding his extraordinary Pride, more revengeful than hot, whereby he did the more secretly and securely accomplish the determined ruin of the Duke; wherein he proceeded gradually, lest, by attempting it at once, he might have failed in the performance, and endangered himself by the discovery of his intention: And therefore, he first caused his duchess to be accused of Treason and Witchcraft, for having made the King's Image in Wax, to the end, she might cause him to pine and waste away, that so her Husband might come to the Crown. Upon which Accusation, she, and four more, who were accused as her complices, were examined, in St. Stephen's chapel, before the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury; who, being engaged with the Cardinal, in endeavouring the Duke's ruin, Sentenced the duchess to do public Penance in three several places, and to suffer perpetual Imprisonment in the Isle of Man: One of her complices was pardonned; one, who was said to be a Witch, was burnt in Smithfield; another was hanged, Drawn and quartered, who protested, at his death, that there never was any such wickedness imagined by them, and the fourth died the night before he should have been Executed. This Crime was so scandalous, that the Duke, altho' he loved her extremely, never concerned himself therein, but patiently endured the affront. And now King Henry being offered the Daughter of Count Armignack for a Wife, together with all those Places, which her Father possessed in Gascony, and money, and other Assistances, for the recovery of what was detained from him by the French King, which would have been a very advantageous Match for England: It was however rejected, and a Match proposed by Suffolk, with Margarit, the Daughter of Renatus, Duke of Anjou and lorraine. who was possessed, besides his two Dukedoms, with two imaginary Kingdoms, viz. Sicily and Jerusalem. This Match, altho' the most dishonourable and useless that could have been thought of, was soon concluded; in consideration whereof, Henry was to restore, to her Father, all that belonged to him in Anjou and main: which, besides the loss in itself, opened a way for Charles to possess himself of Normandy. gloucester was the only person who opposed this French Match, but all his reasons being too little to prevent it, he thereby procured to himself another Enemy, to assist the Cardinal the Bishop, and the Earl of Suffolk in effecting his ruin; being thought by her( besides the opposing her Marriage) the only Person, whose Prudence, Authority and great Birth, seemed to Impeach that Sovereignty, which she, and her partakers, pretended to settle in the King, but meant indeed, as it is usual under weak Princes, to Reign themselves in his Name. But his being so universally beloved rendering the attempting his Life any other way impossible, they made use of the Law for effecting their design, accusing him, at the Council-Table, of several Crimes, of all which he acquitted himself with Honour and Applause; whereat they, being grieved, procured a Parliament to be called at Berry, whither he repairing with the rest of the Peers, suspecting nothing, was Arrested of High Treason, by the Lord beaumond, High-Constable of England, the Dukes of Buckingham and Somerset, and others: And being committed to safe Custody, he was, within a few days, or, as some writ, the same night, found dead, the pretence being, that he died suddenly, either of an Apoplexy or an impostume in his Head; but all Men concluded he was murdered, although it was done so slily, that the manner, how they did it, is not certainly known to this day. Five of his Servants were, for the better covering the business, Condemned to die, upon pretence, as being engaged with him in his Treason: But, as they were lead to Execution, they had their Pardons brought them by the marquis of Suffolk. And thus fell this great Man, whose fall made the way more open for Henry's and the House of Lancaster's ruin, and the rise of the House of York: Nor did the Cardinal survive him above fifteen or sixteen days, to enjoy the supposed benefit of his wicked revenge. But the Queen, who hoped to reap the greatest advantage thereby, having, by so cruel a way, obtained her desire, and thinking, now gloucester was dead, none durst contradict her, she undertook to dispose and manage every thing as she pleased, to the disgusting of all Persons except her own Favourites. Whilst York, who saw that all those things tended to advance his Design, made use of them, as arguments, to persuade his friends, and others, who were disgusted at the Queens ill Government, to side with him in helping him to the Crown, which was usurped from him by the House of Lancaster; telling them, that besides the Justice they would thereby do to him, they should likewise free themselves from the exorbitant Rule of an Imperious Woman, and her proud Favourites, who Governed all things as they pleased, making use of the King's Name and Authority, only to procure obedience to their own Commands: Whereby, together with the reputation he had won in France, he prevailed with abundance to embrace his Interest, many whereof were Persons of greatest Quality, which was, however, managed with great secrecy. And, as if fortune itself had been of York's Council and Conspiracy, a Rebellion was raised in Ireland; and he being sent thither to appease it, not only increased his famed in England, where it was too great before, but likewise won so much reputation and friendship in that Kingdom, that, for his sake, they forsook the King to embrace the Interest of the House of York. But Suffolk being an obstacle in the way of York's Preferment, he was accused, to the Parliament, of several great Crimes, for which he was sent to the Tower; but being, by the Queens influence, set at Liberty about a Month after his Commitment, it so incensed the People, that, for fear of a Rising, the Places, which were enjoyed by his friends, were taken away, and himself was banished for five years: In order whereunto, as he was passing into France, he was set upon and taken by a Man of War, belonging to the Earl of Exeter, and being beheaded on Board the Ship, his Body was thrown upon the Shore, having very few to pity him, because most men believed it to be a Just revenge, from Heaven, for the murder of gloucester. Suffolk being removed, York's Creatures secretly began to endeavour the withdrawing the Peoples affections from the King, and render him despised and hateful to his Subjects, by aggravating the shameful loss of France, and the Kingdoms being Governed by an insulting Woman; and telling them, that they would do well to take example by Ireland, which they might see, in a short time, reduced to Discipline and Order, by the Wisdom and Valour of the Duke of York: Adding, that England stood in need of such a King. And lest those, whom he had procured to be his friends, should have been by degrees alienated again, he resolved, by drawing them into an Insurrection, to unite them the more firmly to his Interest, by their fear of being punished for their Rebellion; to which end, he prevailed with John Cade, an Irish Man, of a mean and obscure Birth, but a bold and a daring Spirit, to feign himself to be his Cousin, and of the Family of the Mortimers, to the end, that he might be thereby favoured by the true Mortimers, who did not know him, and seduce the common People, whom he was to work on, and incite to a Rebellion. Cade, having received his instructions, made choice of Kent for the Stage whereon to Act his Part, in regard, its being near London rendered it fitter for his design than any other County; where having inflamed the Inhabitants, and disposed them to a Rebellion, by aggravating the King's weakness, the Queens insolency, and the avarice of the Ministers, and by persuading them, that Kent was designed to be destroyed and turned into a foreste, to revenge the death of Suffolk: He offered himself to become their Leader, promising, that when he had possessed himself of the Kings Person, and driven away those who had Governed him amiss, all their Grievances should be redressed, and the Chain of their Servitude broken. Whereupon a great number of People flocked to him, with whom he marched toward London, styling himself the Captain of Kent; and having encamped himself on Surry side, he sent for Thomas Cook, a Woollen Draper, under a safe Conduct, and commanded him to sand him a certain number of Arms and Horse, and a thousand Marks of ready money, at the charge of the Merchants, strangers, that inhabited in the City: threatening, that if it were not performed, he would, when he entred the City, destroy them all. Henry, by Advice of his Council, sent to know the Reasons, which had moved him to take up Arms? To which he answered, To redress the Evils under which the Subjects groaned, and Chastise those who had almost ruined the Kingdom: And for a fuller Answer to their Demands, he delivered them two Papers; the first whereof he called the Commons of Kent's Complaints; and the second, their Demand from the King. Which being exorbitant, and not to be complied with, Henry in person marched against them with Fifteen Thousand Men, with a design to give him battle; but Cade, pretending fear, retired into a Wood near Sevenoak, hoping that the King, emboldened by his flight, would set upon him in disorder; but Henry, upon good advice, failed his expectation: However, the Queen, persuading her self he really fled for fear, sent Sir humphrey Stafford and his Kinsman against him, who were both slain, and most of those who followed them. Upon the News whereof, those of the King's Camp, being in their hearts offended at the Queen's Government, discovered their Inclinations, wishing that the Duke of York were with him to improve that opportunity to obtain his right. Which Whispers, coming to the King's ear, somewhat terrified him; wherefore, returning to London, the Lord Say, who was then Treasurer, was secured in the Tower, that so he might, if need should require, be sacrificed to the fury of the People. Cade, grown proud of his Victory, put on the Arms of Sir humphrey Stafford, and returned again to Black-Heath, being now grown much stronger, by the multitudes who flocked to him upon the account of his Victory. So that when the Arch-bishop of Canterbury was sent to him, to know what would satisfy him? they found him so puffed up with pride and insolency, that he refused to agree to any thing, unless the King would come himself in person, and grant what he demanded; whereupon the King and Queen retired to Killingworth, leaving no other Forces in London than what were necessary to guard the Tower, under the Command of the Lord Scales, and Sir Matthew Gough, one of the most ancient and reputed Commanders in the Wars with France. Cade's arrogancy increasing by the King's flight, he marched directly to London; but, not suffered to enter, he lodged in Southwark. The Commons of Essex, who, in imitation of him, had taken Arms likewise, having encamped themselves about Mile-end at the same time. The Lord Mayor, supposing it would be equally dangerous to permit or deny him entrance, called a Common Council to debate the matter, wherein Robert Horn, one of the Aldermen, affirmed, that he was by no means to be permitted entrance; which, when the Rebels understood, they raged exceedingly, threatening a speedy revenge: whereat the affrightned Mayor being terrified, he sent Horn to Newgate, and let Cade into the City; who, being entred, caused Proclamation to be made, in the King's Name, That no Man should steal, or take away any thing by force, upon pain of death; hoping thereby to gain the greater credit with the Citizens; and as he marched through Cannon-street, he struck his Sword upon the ston, commonly called London-stone, saying, Now is Mortimer Master of London. And the next day he caused the Lord Say to be arraigned and condemned, by the Lord Mayor and several of the King's Judges, whom he commanded to sit, for that purpose, in the Mayor's Court; the accused Lord demanded his lawful privilege, of being judged by his Peers, but all in vain; for being carried into Cheapside, he was beheaded, and his Head being carried upon the point of a Spear in Triumph, his naked Body was dragged at a Horses Tail into the Suburbs, and there quartered: He murdered many others; forced Horn to redeem himself from the like punishment, at the price of Five Hundred Marks, and at last fell to plundering the Houses of the richest Citizens; whilst others, terrified thereby, were glad to purchase their safety by large Sums of Money. Whereupon the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, advising about a remedy, resolved, when he was returned into Southwark,( which he did every Night, making that his Head-Quarters) to fortify the Bridge against him, to prevent his re-entering the City. The Lord Scales, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Sir Matthew Gough joined with them, the first promising to play upon them with his Cannon, and the second to be their Leader. About Midnight they began to barricade the Bridge, but the Rebels, being advertised thereof, endeavoured to prevent them, falling upon them with much fury; so that there was a cruel fight between them, which lasted till Nine of the Clock the next Morning, wherein Gough and many others were slain, and many Houses were burned by the Rebels. So that the clattering of the Weapons, the raging of the Fire, and the pitiful Outcries of Men, Women, and Children, who could not save themselves from its increasing flamme,( many whereof ran from one death to meet another, and threw themselves into the Water, to avoid the violence of the Fire) was a most wretched and deplorable sight, yet not sufficient to appease the anger of the Combatants, or make them give over the Fight, till weariness compelled them thereunto: Whereupon Cade caused the Prisoners in the Kings-Bench and Marshalseas to be let out, and armed them, thereby to increase his strength. But the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, who was then Lord Chancellor, having drawn up a General Pardon, and authorised it with the Great Seal, crossed the Thames about the Tower, and causing it to be publicly proclaimed in Southwark; it was so generally accepted by the Rebels, that they immediately departed to their own homes, without seeing or taking leave of their Captain. So that seeing himself suddenly forsaken, and those Forces which were promised him, from such as sided with York, not appearing, he fled disguised into Sussex, whither several were sent, in pursuit of him; and being found in a Garden, by one Eden, he was by him slain, fighting hand to hand, and his Body brought up to London. York being advertised of the death of Cade, and the miscarriage of that Enterprise, but withal, that the Losses abroad, and Discontents at home, rendered it a very fit time for him to put himself into action, he presently left Ireland, and went to raise Men in Wales; and having got together a good Army, he marched towards London, and passing the Thames, at Kingston, he encamped himself at Dartford, in Kent: The King marched thither likewise, and being of a very peaceable nature, he sent the Bishops of Winchester and Ely, to demand the cause of his appearing in Arms? To which York, who designed no more by this first Enterprise, but only to remove Somerset, to prie into the Peoples Inclinations, and procure more to favour his Pretences, by possessing the World with a good opinion of his Actions, answered, He did not take up Arms against the King, nor any of his Friends, but only against some ill men that were about him, the chief whereof was Somerset, who was equally an enemy to his felicity, and the public welfare; promising, that if the King would commit him to safe custody, he would presently dismiss his Army. Henry, having received this Answer, rather choosing to temporize and seem at least to gratify his desire, than run the hazard of reducing him to his obedience by force, and therefore gave order immediately for the taking Somerset into custody. Whereupon York, according to his promise, dismissed his Army, and came and threw himself at the King's feet, and by Protestations, of his Loyal Intentions, endeavoured to justify his own Actions, accusing Somerset of Treason, Oppression, and many other Crimes; whereupon Somerset, who was not far off, hearing himself wounded in his Honour, could no longer contain himself; but coming forth from the place where he was concealed, he not only justified himself against York, and proved that he was innocent of the Crimes wherewith he had charged him, but likewise accused his accuser of High Treason, for having conspired the Death of the King, and consulted with several of his complices, how he might, with the least danger to himself, wrest his Crown and sceptre from him. Whereupon York was detained as a Prisoner, and being conveyed to London, was presented, by Henry, before a great Council, which he had caused to be assembled, for that purpose; at Westminster: Where the two Dukes accusing each other of Treason, and both denying the Charge, and protesting their Innocency, nothing could be resolved on; so that altho' Somerset affirmed, that York had, long ago, resolved upon the ruin of Henry, and the House of Lancaster, that so he might set the Crown upon his own head, and transplant the Royal Dignity into the House of York, and desired to have him put to the Rack; yet he was released, and thereupon retired himself into Wales, to expect a more promising opportunity, and left Somerset to be the sole Moderator of the whole Government. But York concluding that he should never be able to wrest the sceptre out of Henry's hand, till he had, in order thereunto, first effected the ruin of Suffolk; whereby he should, at once, take revenge upon a hated Enemy, remove the greatest Obstacle to his Ambitious Designs, deprive the King of his best Support, and win the Love and Affections of all Men; of the Common People, by ruining a Man, who was generally detested by them, for the loss of Normandy; of the Nobility, by reducing him, whose too much Greatness and Authority they infinitely envied. He shortly after returned to London again, and being assisted by several great men, who favoured his Pretences, especially the Earl of Salisbury, and, his Son, the Earl of Warwick, he caused Somerset to be arrested, in the Queen's Lodgings, and carried to the Tower. In this Enterprise he met with little or no opposition, in regard Henry was then sick; but as soon as he was recovered, he not only restored him to his former liberty, but preferred him likewise to the Government of Calice, which was at that time the most consirable and important Charge the King could have possibly conferred upon him: Whereby he discontented his Subjects; who, attributing the loss of the greatest part of France to his ill management, concluded, that he was a person no way fit to be made Chief Governor of the only place that remained. And York, concluding that Somerset's Preferment, and the Peoples Discontent, naturally tended to the furthering his Designs, he resolved, a third time, to attempt his ruin; to which purpose he retired again into Wales, and having there, with the greatest speed and secrefie, got together a considerable Army, he marched towards London. But Henry being advertised of his march, would not wait his coming to London, but being accompanied by the Dukes of Somerset and Buckingham, the Earls of Pembroke, Stafford, Northumberland, Devonshire, Dorset, and Wiltshire, abundance of Barons and Gentlemen of Quality, and what other Forces he could get together, met him at St. Albans, and according to the peaceable instinct of his nature, sent to know his Pretensions? But just as the Messengers arrived at his Camp, the Earl of Warwick suddenly set upon the Royal vanguard, and disordered it, before Somerset was able to succour it; whereupon, the two Armies closing, a cruel battle ensued, each side making good their station, and no man recoiling; but every one fought with as much fierceness, as if they had taken up a resolution, that not a man in the whole Field should have survived the battle. York placed himself upon a rising ground, from whence he observed all Occurrences, and sent fresh Soldiers to supply the places of such as were slain or wounded; which Somerset could not do, being both inferior in number, and himself more busy in fighting than in making provision: So that he and almost all the Royalists were slain, and the King himself was taken Prisoner. York, having obtained this Victory, concluded, that now there remained nothing for him to do, but to assume the Crown; However, Somerset being dead, and Henry in his hands, so that he could, under colour of his Name and Power, govern all things as he pleased, he thought it the safest way, to ascend the Throne gradually, and therefore contenting himself, at present, with the Power, he deferred the assuming the Name of Majesty, till a more convenient opportunity. Having found Henry in a poor man's House, whither he had withdrawn himself, he carried him from thence, with all seeming respect, telling him that Somerset's death, had established his Throne, and settled his Crown the firmer upon his head. But as soon as they came to London, he began to exercise the Kingly Power, in Henry's Name, for he summoned a Parliament to meet at Westminster; wherein he procured all things that had been acted, from the very first day of Henry's Reign, to that time, to be reversed; himself, Salisbury, and Warwick, with the rest of their Associates, to be indemnified, from future punishment, for their late Insurrection. And, as the Foundation whereon he intended to raise the superstructure of his designed Monarchy, he caused himself, and his two chief Associates, Salisbury and Warwick, to be erected in a Triumvirate; whereby he left nothing remaining to Henry, but the bare Title of King, for the whole Power and Authority remained in those three: The Political in York, who was made governor of the Kingdom; the Civil in Salisbury, who was made Lord Chancellor; and the Military in Warwick, who was appointed Governor of Calice. This being done, he next proceeded to settle all things as himself pleased; all those, whom he thought, depended upon the King or Queen, he thrust from the Council, and benefit of all Authority: And, taking the Duke of Exeter from Sanctuary, by force, sent him Prisoner to Pomfret Castle, a sacrilege that none, before him, had ever adventured to commit. But this Triumvirate continued but a short time, for the young Duke of Somerset, the Duke of Buckingham, and divers other Noble Men, who still retained a Veneration of Henry's Majesty, perceiving that York's design was the Usurpation of the Crown, and that his delay only proceeded from his fear of danger; lest, if he should attempt it suddenly, Henry's being Beloved and Reverenced for his Piety, should render his attempt vain, and break the neck of his whole design, resolved, at once, to free both him and themselves from the impending danger; to which end, they consulted with the Queen( who being a Woman of a high Spirit, highly Stomached the forced Subjection) what was to be done: They Summoned a great Council to Assemble at Greenwich, wherein it was Resolved, That since the King was not a Child, he needed not a Protector, And that since he was not a Fool, there was no reason that he should be Governed at other Mens discretions: And that therefore York should be freed of his Protectorship, and Salisbury of his Chancellorship. But they left Warwick in possession of the Government of Calice; by which means, what they did, signified no more than if they had sate still and done nothing at all. York was so strangely surprised with this sudden and unexpected blow, that he was not able to guard himself from the force of it, and therefore pretended a willing compliance with the Order; but immediately thereupon left the Court, being rather confirmed, by this affront, in his resolutions, to push on his former Designs of assuming the Title of Royal Majesty, than any way discouraged from so doing. Which the Queen fearing, and concluding, within herself, that it was impossible to secure the Crown to Henry, and the House of Lancaster, any other way, but by the ruin of York, and the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick, which was impossible to be effected, but under the colour of some specious pretence; she resolved to try, if Feminine subtlety could not effect that which Masculine Power was not able to perform. And in order thereunto, having persuaded the King to go to Coventry, for change of Air, and to spend some time in Hawking and Hunting, she sent for them, by express Letters from the King, to come thither upon pretence of some extraordinary business; which they believing, had gone and been caught, had they not been, by their Spies at Court, advertised of their danger. Henry, when he understood the Queens Design, was highly displeased therewith, as a thing contrary to his good inclinations; and therefore, returning to London, he called a Council, wherein, having stated the condition of the Nation, he told them, That their Divisions at home, had given great advantage to their Enemies abroad, and encouraged both the French and Scots to invade them, and that therefore a reconciliatlon was absolutely necessary; assuring them, that it was a thing he so much desired, that, for his own part, he would forget the injuries offered to himself, and endeavour that his Kindred should do so to, and be willing to agree with those who had, in the late uproars, spilled their Blood: So that York, and his Faction, should have nothing to do but to demand. This Proposal of the King, being generally approved of by the Council, several Persons of Quality were chosen to go to the several Parties to acquaint them therewith; whereupon, York, Salisbury and Warwick, came to London, attended with 1500 Men, and Somerset, Northumberland and Clifford, whose Fathers were all slain in the battle at Saint Albans, waited on by the like number: Most of the Noble-men in the Kingdom repaired thither likewise, very well attended with Armed Men; different Lodgings were appointed them, thereby to prevent their encountering. The City was assigned to York and his Faction, the Suburbs to the Lancasterians, and the King and the Queen lay at the Bishop of Londons, that so they might be as a bar between them and the mayor; and other Magistrates of London, with five thousand Armed Men, supplying the place as a Guard, walked the streets, night and day, to prevent Tumults: The Yorkists used to gather together at Blackfryars, and the Lancasterians at Westminster. And, at last, through the Mediation of the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, a Reconciliation was agreed upon, and Signed by each Party; wherein they all obliged themselves to the obedience of the King, and to esteem those as Friends or Enemies, whom the King should account such: Which being done, a solemn Procession was made, wherein the Nobility, of both Factions, having intermingled themselves, walked before the King, who was arrayed in his Royal Robes, and his Imperial Crown on his Head. York followed the King, leading the Queen in his hand; so that all former differences seemed now to be wholly forgot and butted in Oblivion: But it was not long before their former Animosities revived again, upon occasion of the following accident. Things being thus seemingly composed, the Duke of Salisbury, left London, and went to York, but Warwick, in regard of his Charge of Calice, remained still at London; and, one day, whilst he was sitting in Council, one of the King's Servants having given some affront to one of his Men, a Quarrel arose thereupon, wherein Warwick's Man wounded the other, and then fled to Sanctuary: But the Guard, and others of the King's Servants, being intent upon revenging the supposed injury, they reflected upon his Master, and Assaulting him, as he went from the Council to take Water, they had certainly slain him, had he not leaped into a Boat and recovered the City. Whereupon, the Queen, either through malice or misinformation, laid hold of the pretence to bereave him of his life, commanding him to be detained( and if he had been so, he had been for ever lost) but being secretly advertised of it, he posted immediately to York, and brought the first news of it himself to the Duke and his Father; and having advised with them what was best to be done, they advised him to go immediately to Calice, and secure that Town: Which Henry might easily have prevented, and thereby have left them no place of safety to retreat to, had he not been blinded by his impending Fate. as soon as Warwick was gone, York sent Salisbury to London, with such Troops as he could get together, to complain of the violated Faith, and demand satisfaction for the injury done to Warwick; to the end, that if it were denied, as they supposed it would, their actions might thereby appear the more Justifiable: Whilst he, in the mean time, assembled a good Army, wherewith he promised to follow him. The Queen, being advertised of Salisbury's March, commanded the Lord Audley, through whose Territories he was to pass, to give him battle; who thereupon, met him near Drayton in Shropshire: Suffolk, seeing his March opposed, resolved to fight. And the two Armies being divided only by a small River, in the morning early, by break of day, he commanded his Bow-men to shoot into Audley's Camp, and at the same time Retreat, that so being provoked by the Arrows, and encouraged by his seeming flight, he might be alured to pass the River; which device succeeded according to his wish, for Audley enraged by the Arrows, and being desirous to execute the Queens Command, of taking him alive or dead, immediately passed the River, with the Vanguard of his Army, to stay his supposed flight: Which being the thing the Earl aimed at in his Retreat, he immediately turned about and furiously Assaulted him, and having slain the Baron, and two thousand four hundred of his Soldiers, he obtained a complete Victory, which heightened York's Credit, and procured him abundance of Followers. The Duke, being advertised thereof by the Earl, writ thereof to Calice; whereupon Warwick came thence, and brought with him a good Troop of old Soldiers, commanded by Trollop and Blunt, without acquainting them what it was he designed them for: The two Armies meet near Ludlow, upon the Confines of Wales. But when Trollop and Blunt saw that they were lead to fight against their own Sovereign, from whom they received their Commission, and by whom they were paid, they fled to the King's Camp, and acquainted him with the Duke's intention of giving battle the next morning; which so discouraged York, that he fled into Wales, and from thence into Ireland, with his second Son, the Earl of Rutland, and his eldest Son, the Earl of March, accompanied with Salisbury, and Warwick went to Calice. The King pardonned all that stayed, except some few whom he punished for example sake. He sacked the Town and Castle of Ludlow, detained the duchess of York and her Sister, the duchess of Buckingham, Prisoners; and having, by Act of Parliament, declared those, who were fled, to be Rebels and Traytors to himself, and Enemies to the Kingdom, he forbid their return, and seized their Estates, and disposed of their Commands, giving the Wardenship of the North Marches to Northumberland and Clifford, and the Command of Calice to Somerset: Which was a thing of that consequence, that had it been done before, it would, in all probability, have been a means to have ruined them, and preserved himself, but now it served to no other purpose than only to spur on his hastening destiny. For Somerset, believing he should get possession of his Charge, with as much ease as he obtained the Grant of it, repaired thither with such Forces as he had in readiness; and having sent to the Garrison, to acquaint them with the Kings Grant, and to show them his Letters Patents: The Captains, who were all at Warwick's Devotion, denied him admittance, and fired their Canon upon him, so that he was forced to retire into Guines, hoping by Skirmishes to bring them to obedience. But, in the mean while, his whole Fleet went into the Harbour of Calice, and delivered up their Ships, and those that Commanded them, to Warwick, who being his Enemies, were immediately Beheaded; by which means, and his continual Skirmishes, the number of his Soldiers were much decreased, whilst those of the Garrison was very much augmented by fresh supplies which resorted to them every day, unsent for: Whereupon, having advertised the King and Queen of the straits he was in, they dispatched away the Lord Rivers and Sir Anthony Woodvile his Son, with four hundred Men, who were forced to stay at Sandwich for a Wind, whereof March and Warwick being informed, they sent thither Sir John Denham with a small Company of Soldiers, who were more considerable for their Valour than for their Number. Denham, having the Wind as favourable to him as across to others, arrived there about midnight; when entering the Haven and Town of Sandwich, and finding it free from suspicion, and therefore altogether unguarded, he surprised the Lord Rivers and his Son in their Beds: And notwithstanding the Soldiers took the Alarum, and made Head, and wounded him, yet he carried them off, Plundered a good part of the Town, and being favoured by the Mariners, made himself Master of the King's best Ships, and so returned Triumphant to Calice, and presented his Spoil to the Earl of March, who sent Warwick with the Ships into Ireland, to acquaint the Duke with the state of affairs, and know his pleasure; which was, that they should, with all convenient speed, pass over into England, promising, to follow himself, with what Forces he could raise. Hereupon March and Warwick prepared for England, upon notice whereof Henry commanded the Sea-Ports to be fortified, thereby to prevent their landing. But there being nothing done at Court, whereof March had not notice given by those about the King, Sir Simon Monfort, who was ordered by the King to effect it, was no sooner arrived at Sandwich, but he sent the Lord Falconbridge thither, who took it the second time, and sent Monfort, and several other Prisoners, to Calis, advising March to across the Seas immediately, and march up to London, as to an assured Victory; which Advice being approved of by the three Earls, they caused the Heads of Montfort, and twelve more, to be cut off, and, having taken order for the managing the Garrison in their absence, they landed in Kent, where they were met by the Lord Cobham, with about 4000 Men, which still increased as they marched towards London; and being arrived there, Salisbury, Cobham, and Sir John Vanlock, stayed there, to secure a place of so much importance; and March and Warwick marched towards the King, who had gotten a good Army together about Northampton, where, being arrived, he offered the King battle, which being accepted of, each side fought with incredible fierceness; and when their Arrows were spent, they came to handy-blows, for five hours together, with an indifferent fortune: But, at length, the King, having lost 10000 Men, fell into his Enemies hands. The battle being lost, the Queen, the Prince of Wales, and Duke of Somerset, fled to the bishopric of Durham, and the Victor returned to London, where he inflicted such Punishments upon those of his Adversaries, whom he found in the City, as usually attend the injustice of Civil Wars. March, having advertised his Father of this Victory, immediately repaired to England, supposing that all things were now removed out of the way, that could hinder his possession of the Crown. And March having called a Parliament, in Henry's Name, just at the opening thereof, York entred London, followed by great Troops of Men, and having the Trumpets sounding, and the Sword born before him, alighted at the King's Palace, at Westminster; and, entering into the House of Peers, he laid his hand upon the Throne, as if he designed thereby to intimate, that he had, by that action, taken possession thereof. Whereat the Lords, being much amazed, sate speechless, for some time; but, at length, the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, standing up, asked him, If he would be pleased to go and see the King? Whereupon, changing countenance, he angrily replied, He knew no Man to whom he owed that Duty; but on the contrary, every Man owed it to him. Whereupon the Arch-bishop went forth, to acquaint the King with his Answer: which York seeing, went forth, and entred likewise into the King's Lodgings; where, finding several Doors shut, he caused them to be broken open: And then, returning again to the Parliament, he sat down, on the King's Throne, under the Cloth of State, telling them, That it did, of right, belong to him; and that it had been unlawfully usurped, by the three preceding Kings, from the House of Mortimer, who was lawful Heir to the Duke of Clarence, and from his House of York, who were lawful Heirs to Mortimer. And that being quiter out of hopes of ever enjoying what was his right by fair means, he was forced to make use of violence, not so much in respect to himself, and the restoring the Crown to his Family, as out of respect to the public Good, in hope thereby to restore Peace to the Kingdom, which he hoped, by their assistance, to restore to its ancient glory. This Declaration so surprised the Lords, that they sat looking on each other, as men struck dumb and bereaved of sense; but some of them having, at length, reassumed courage enough, to demand of him, If he would not go and see the King? answered, God only excepted, he knew no superior. A Crown, which hung for ornament, in the middle of the Room were the Commons met, and another on the top of Dover-Castle, fell down at that instant, which was thought to be an ill Omen to Henry. The Parliament, after many Debates, concluded the difference, by Enacting, That although since the Crown did of right belong to York, yet, to avoid the Inconveniencies which might attend the Deposing of Henry, after he had been King for Thirty eight Years and upwards, York should consent, that he should enjoy the Crown, during his own Life, and that, when he died, York, or his next Heir, should succeed him. The next day after this, being All-Saints, the King, in his Royal Robes, and the Crown on his Head, went in Procession to St. Paul's, accompanied with the Duke, who being proclaimed next Heir, and Protector of the Kingdom, desired Henry, for the better securing the new made Peace, and prevent future Jealousies, to sand for the Queen, and his Son, Prince Edward, which he did; but she refusing to come, and having gotten together a good Army, to endeavour the nullifying of all things which had been done, in prejudice of her Son, the Duke resolved to prevent her, and reduce her by force; in order whereunto, he committed the Custody of the King, and the City of London, to Norfolk and Warwick, and sent his Son, the Earl of March, into the West, to raise Men, wherewith he was to follow him with all imaginable speed himself, and Salisbury went to Sandals, a Castle of his near Wakefield, where he got together about Five Thousand Men; he intended to stay for the coming of his Son, with his Western Army: But the Queen, hearing of it, resolved to meet him before they should have joined their Forces together. To which end, being accompanied by Prince Edward, and followed by Somerset, Exeter, Devonshire, Wiltshire, Clifford, and almost all the Lords of all the Northern parts of England, she presented herself before the Castle-Walls; Salisbury and Sir David Hall, who where the Duke's chief Counsellors, advised him to keep within the Walls, till the coming of the Earl of March, since she had brought no Artillery with her wherewith to batter the Walls. But he being more apt to generous and daring, than to discreet, Resolutions, and thinking it a shane that a Woman should keep him shut up within a Wall, a thing which all the Powers of France, in his many years War in that Kingdom, were not able to pretend to, he sallied forth, and descended into the Fields beneath the Castle, which was built upon a pleasant Hill, to confront her; but the marshal Qúeen, having divided her Army into three parts, and laid two of them in Ambush, on two sides of the Hill, which were commanded by Wiltshire and Clifford, with the third, wherein was Somerset and Exeter, she met him in the Plain, and gave him battle; which was no sooner began, but the Duke was environed on all sides, and in less than half an hour, overthrown and slain, together with 2800 of his Men; and Salisbury, being wounded and taken Prisoner, was, with several others, beheaded at Pomfret. Robert, who was Chaplain to the Duke, and Tutor to his Son, the Earl of Rutland, a Child of about Twelve Years of Age, seeing the Duke's ill Success, endeavoured to escape with his Charge, but being observed by Clifford, he caused him to be stayed, and seeing the Lad to be Nobly attired, he demanded, with his Sword in his hand, Who he was? To which Question the unfortunate Youth, who was struck dumb with fear, returned no Answer; but with hands lifted up, and a submissive countenance, did tacitly beg for Mercy and Pardon. But having learned who he was, from his Tutor, who thought, by naming him, to have saved his Life, he presently stabbed him to the heart, and then, returning to the Duke, he cut off his Head, and having, in derision, crwoned it with a Crown of Paper, he presented it to the Queen on the point of a Lance, who caused it, together with the Heads of those who were executed at Pomfret, to be set on the Gates of York, where they remained till the Earl of March wrested the Victory out of her hands. The Earl of March, who was now, by the death of his Father, become Duke of York, received the News at gloucester, but being comforted by the Citizens, and those who lived along the River Severn, who being infinitely affectionate to the House of Mortimer, of which he was the Heir, promised to spend their Lives in his Quarrel, he thought more of Revenge than Mourning. But being informed, when he was just ready to set forward with an Army of 23000 fighting Men, that the Earls of Pembroke and Wiltshire, and own Teudor, who married King Henry's Mother, after the death of her first Husband, Henry the Fifth, was joined together to surprise him, and concluding it was no way safe to leave such potent Enemies behind him, he resolved to defeat them first, before he advanced towards the North, and meeting them, not far from Hereford, he gave them battle, and having slain 3800 of their Men, and own Teudor prisoner, whom he beheaded, he gave them a total overthrow. In the mean while, the Queen, with an Army of Irish, Scots, and People of the Northern parts of England, advanced towards London to set the King at liberty, and undo all that had, by the Duke of York's Authority, been acted in the preceding Parliament; but the Duke of Norfolk, and the Earl of Warwick, to whom the Custody of the King and the City was committed, having raised an Army, met her at Saint Albans, and forgetting that the King's Presence was always unfortunate, they carried him thither likewise, where, notwithstanding they fought with all imaginable Valour and Resolution, the Queen obtained the Victory, and recovered the King: But the news of Pembroke and Ormond's overthrow, and that the Earl of March was making towards her with a great Army, and that Warwick, with the Forces that were escaped, met and joined with him, made her retire back into the North, having first caused the Lord Bonnaveile, and Sir Thomas Terril, who might have escaped with the rest, if Henry had not promised them safety, to be Beheaded. The Duke of York, being advertised of her Retreat, did not pursue her presently, but choose rather to March directly to London, and secure that; where he was received with an Universal Joy, not only because the greatness of his Actions, and the sweetness of his Temper, had rendered him amiable and desirable to them, but also, because they looked upon those strange People, whereof the Queens Army was composed, to be their Enemies, and to design the Plundering of the City: From which design, they hoped to be defended by his Victorious Arms. When he arrived at London, he caused a great Council, of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and the Chief of the Commons, to be Assembled; wherein, having declared his pretences to the Crown, and the late Agreement made between Henry and the Duke of York, his Father, he desired, That since Henry had broken that Agreement, he might be Declared, not to enjoy any longer Right thereby to the Crown, and that He might be substituted in his Place, according to the Agreement. The Assembly, having considered of what he had said, and adjudging the Title of the House of York to be Legal and Just, Declared, That Henry having violated the Oath, and broken the Accord, made by Authority of the last Parliament, he had thereby rendered himself unworthy of the Crown: And that instead of him, Edward Earl of March, the Son and Heir of Richard Duke of York, ought to be acknowledged King. Which Declaration being joyfully received by the People, he went, the next day, to Saint Pauls, where, Te Deum being sung, he made the Offerings which Kings used to make, and then was Proclaimed King, by the Name of Henry the Fourth; and was, in the following June, crwoned at Westminster, so that there were, now, two Kings in England. The Queen, in the mean while, was busied in raising of Forces; with which, and some Aids she procured from France, she advanced towards London: But being overthrown by Ogle, whom Edward sent against her, she fled into Scotland. From whence, with some Assistance she procured there, she returned into Northumberland, took Bambridg Castle; and passing forward toward the bishopric of Durham, abundance of People flocked to her daily, so that her Army was very much increased: But, Edward meeting her at Hegley Moor, after a great slaughter of her Men, forced her to retire further North. And, shortly after, in another battle at Hexam, he gave her a second overthrow, wherein King Henry himself had like to have been taken, but escaping with much difficulty, he fled into Scotland; from whence, returning soon after into England, in a Disguise, he was betrayed, as he sate at Dinner in Waddington-Hall, and conveyed to London, with his Legs bound to the Stirrups, where, as soon as he was arrived, he was Arrested by the Earl of Warwick, and Committed to the Tower. Edward, thinking himself now at leisure to mary, sent Warwick to Treat with the Duke of Savoy, about a Match with his Daughter: But, whilst Warwick was managing the Treaty with the Duke, he advanced to the Royal Bed the Lady Elizabeth Grey, one of his own Subjects, and the Relict of his Mortal Enemy, Sir John Grey, slain at the battle of Saint Albans, on King Henry's side. This Lady waiting on the King to sue for the restoring her jointure, which was, with the rest of her Husbands Estate, seized into the King's hands; he was so taken with her Charming Beauty, that he presently became a suitor to her for a Nights Lodging, promising to Grant her more than she Requested, and urged her with much importunity to consent: She modestly replied, That although she was not so vain, in regard of the meanness of her Birth, to imagine her self a Person fit to be advanced to the Honor and Dignity of his Queen, yet she accounted her self too good to be his Whore. With which answer, the King being exceedingly pleased, raised her, from the Degree of an inferior Subject, to be his Royal Consort, causing her to be crwoned at Westminster, and Celebrating the Ceremony of her Coronation, with all imaginable Solemnity and splendour. Whereat Warwick, at his return, was so enraged, that he presently withdrew his affections from Edward, and resolved to revenge the slight, which he supposed to be thereby put both upon himself and the Duke of Savoy, by Deposing Edward, and placing Henry on the Throne again. And finding that George Duke of Clarence, second Son to Richard Duke of York, was likewise offended with him for Marrying the Lady Grey, and promoting her Relations, he drew him likewise into the Conspiracy against his Brother. And having, by his Agents, stirred up the People, in the Northern parts of England, to Rebel against Edward; about fifteen thousand of them got together under one Huldren at first, but he being slain, Sir John Coniers undertook the Leading of them: Who, Marching with them toward London, Proclaimed King Edward to be an Usurper. Edward, in the mean time, was not idle; but having got together what Forces he had in readiness, he sent them under the Command of Pembroke, who met them near Banbury, where he had given them a total Rout, had not one Clapham, a Servant of Warwick's, prevented it by a stratagem: Who, seeing the day like to be lost, suddenly displayed his Colours, wherein was the white Bear, which was Warwick's Cognizance, and cried, a Warwick, a Warwick. Whereat, Pembrook's Army, being most of them Welsh-men, fearing that Warwick had been come indeed, were so terrified, that they immediately betook themselves to Flight, leaving their General, the Earl of Pembroke, and his Brother, in the Field; who, fighting valiantly, were encompassed and taken, and carried to Banbury, where, with Sir Richard Herbert, and eleven more, they were Beheaded, one Green and Clapham being their Judges. From hence they Marched to the King's Mannor of Grafton, where the Lord Rivers, who was Father to the Queen, and High Constable of England, then lay; and having suddenly surprised him and his Son John, they carried them to Northampton, and there struck off their Heads. Edward, having prepared a mighty Army, marched towards them; they having, by this time, gotten Warwick among them, and meeting them at Wolney, incampt himself not far from them, both sides preparing themselves for battle. But, in the conclusion, a Treaty of Peace being agreed on, and Edward, thereupon thinking himself secure, was outwitted by politic Warwick, who surprised him, about the dead time of the night, and hurried him away, first to Warwick Castle, and from thence, conveyed him, by night, to Middlcham-Castle, in Yorkshire, where he Committed him to the Custody of his Brother, George Nevil, Arch-Bishop of York: Who, after a little time, granted him Liberty to ride a Hunting in the Parks and Forrests adjacent. But Edward stretching the Bishop's Commission, and making bold, one day, as he was a Hunting, to go beyond his appointed Bounds, very fairly rid away and made his escape; whereat Warwick, when he heard of it, stormed extremely: But seeing there was no remedy, he gave out, that himself had ordered his being permitted to escape. He procured likewise a Rebellion in Lincolnshire, where thirty thousand Men being gotten together, under the Command of Sir Robert Wells, an expert and valiant Commander, they Plundered King Edward's friends, and, in every place, Proclaimed King Henry: And meeting with Edward's Forces, set upon them without staying for the coming of Warwick, where was performed a most cruel and bloody Fight, each side strenuously striving for Victory; but, at length, Sir Robert being taken, the fortune of the Day fell to King Edward's Army: For the Lincolnshire Men, so soon as they saw their General taken Prisoner, threw down their Arms, cast of their upper Garments, and betook themselves to their Heels, which was the reason why that Fight was ever after called, the battle of Off-Coat-Fields. Upon this defeat, Warwick, and the Duke of Clarence, fled into France, with intent to take Sanctuary at Calice; but the Lord Vawclear, whom Warwick had substituted his Deputy there, denied them entrance, and bid them defiance with his great Guns: For which supposed good Service, he was himself advanced, by King Edward, to be governor of the Garrison. But, so soon as ever Warwick had gotten Aid from France, he discovered himself to be for him, having denied him entrance into the Garrison, only because he feared he would not be safe there, and that he might render himself the more serviceable to his interest. From Calice they went to Paris, where they were well received by King Lewis, and furnished with what Forces they desired; wherewith, Landing at Dartmouth, they marched towards London, Proclaiming King Henry, and enjoining all, from sixteen to sixty, upon great Penalty, to take up Arms against the Usurper, Edward Duke of York: And it is almost incredible, what vast numbers, of Armed Men, flocked to him, from all Parts, to maintain Henry's right to the Crown, who, but just before, had applauded, and cried up none but King Edward. The Bastard Faulconbridge in the West, and the Earl of pembroke in Wales, likewise Proclaimed King Henry; and the Lord montague, having raised six thousand Men for Edward, and brought them as far as Nottingham, drew them back again, and carried them over to the Enemy, upon pretence, that Edward was ungrateful to his Friends: So that, now, all Men cried out, a King Henry, a King Henry, a Warwick, a Warwick. And indeed, this Design, of restoring Henry to the Throne, obtained such an Universal Approbation, and was so unanimously Prosecuted, that Edward thought it the safest course to fly beyond Sea, to his Cousin, the Duke of Burgundy. His Queen stolen out of the Tower, and took Sanctuary in Westminster, where she was Delivered of a Son, which was, without all Pomp, baptized by the name of Edward, whose Exit was as obscure as his Birth, and much more Tragical: Most of the Sanctuaries, in England, being likewise filled with his Friends. And hereupon, the Kentish Men took the opportunity to do much harm in the Suburbs, and some in the City of London; and had done much more, had not the Earl of Warwick prevented it by his coming, which very much increased his famed, which was great enough before. The Earl, having freed the City from the fear of being Pillaged, entred the Tower, where Henry had been detained, as a Prisoner, almost nine years; and having brought him out from thence, restored to him the Title of King, and conveyed him, forthwith, through London, to the Bishop's Palace, where a Pompous and Splendid Court was, from that time, which was October the sixth, till the thirteenth of the said Month, when he crwoned him again, and caused him to go crwoned to Saint Pauls, himself bearing his Train, and the Earl of Oxford the Sword, the crowding Spectators, as he passed along the Streets, crying, God save King Henry. And in a Parliament, which began the twenty sixth of November, Edward was declared a traitor to his Country, and an Usurper of the Crown, and had all his Goods Confiscated, and the like judgement passed against his partakers, and the Earl of Worcester was adjudged to lose his Head. All the Statutes likewise, made by Edward, were annulled, and the Crowns of England and France entailed to Henry, and his Heirs Male; and, for want of such, to the Duke of Clarence: And Warwick was made governor of the Kingdom. But, whilst these things were doing in England▪ Edward was making Preparations in Burgundy to undo them again. And, having received Aids from the Duke, and and promises of more in England, he Landed at Ravenspur in Yorkshire, pretending to lay aside his pretences to the Crown, but only claim his Right as a private Man; upon which Protestation he was received into the City of York: But having gotten Possession of York, and increased his Army, he Marched, in an Hostile manner, till he came to Warwick, where the Duke of Clarence, who now turned his back upon Henry and Warwick, brought in to his assistance four thousand Men; and, having reconciled himself to his Brother, endeavoured to bring over Warwick likewise, who was then at Warwick Castle. But he, disdaining the Message, bid the Messengers go tell the Duke, from him, That he had rather be an Earl, and always like himself, than a wavering and a perjured Duke; and that before he would falsify his Oath, as the Duke had done, he would lay down his Life at his Enemies feet, which he doubted not but would be bought very dear. Which resolute Answer made Edward the more wary, and hasten immediately to London, to secure that: And finding the Gates, as soon as he came there, thrown open to him, peaceable Henry once more became his Prisoner. And, having drawn out his Forces to meet Warwick, who advanced likewise towards London, he took the Captive King with him. Upon Gladnor-Heath, near Barnet, on Easter-day in the Morning, the two Armies met, and joined battle; the Victory, at first, inclined to Warwick, but, at length, the thickness of the Air occasioning the Stars, worn by the Earl of Oxford's Men, who was in the left Wing of the battle, to be mistaken for the Sun, which the Yorkists wore, lost Him, and obtained Edward, the Victory. For, upon that mistake, Warwick's Battalion let fly at Oxford's, when they were in a very fair way of gaining the Victory; and Oxford, being ignorant of the mistake, and judging himself betrayed, immediately left the Field, and carried off about a Thousand Men with him. Whereupon Warwick, being enraged, animated his Men, and, with the best of his Soldiers, rushed, with abundance of fury, into the midst of his Enemies Camp, so far, that he could not be rescued, but was there slain; and so was his Brother, the Lord montague, in endeavouring to rescue him. On Edward's part, died the Lord cromwell, the Lord Bourchier, Lord barns, and Sir John less. Of both sides about Ten Thousand were slain. And shortly after this, was the last battle fought between King Edward and the undaunted Queen Margaret, at Tewksbury; wherein was slain, on the Queen's side, John, Lord Somerset, the Earl of Devonshire, Sir John Devils, Sir Edward Hampden, Sir Robert Whittingham, and Sir John Lewkner, with three hundred others, and the rest put to flight; among whom was Edward, Prince of Wales, the only Son of King Henry, who being overtaken by Sir Richard Crofts, he brought him back again, and presented him to the King; who, after having for some time beholded him with an austere countenance, demanded of him, How he durst, with Banner displayed, disturb the Peace of this Kingdom? To which the Prince bravely answered, That what he did, was to recover his Father's Kingdom, and his own most rightful Inheritance: And therefore how durst thou, who art his Subject, display thy Colours against him, who is thy Sovereign? At which Answer Edward was so enraged, that he dashed the Prince on the Mouth with his Gauntlet; and thereupon Richard, Duke of gloucester, assisted by some of the King's Servants, shamelessly murdered him at the King's feet. The Duke of Somerset, the Prior of St. Johns, and many Knights and Gentlemen, were forcibly taken out of Sanctuary, and executed at Tewksbury. And the unfortunate Queen having, upon this fatal Loss, got into a Religious House, was taken out thence, and committed to safe Custody; in which Restraint she remained, till ransomed by her Father. Edward, having now put an end to the difference between himself and Henry, returned victorious to London, and, within a few days after, Crook-back'd Richard stabbed innocent Henry to the Heart. And his murdered Body, being put into an open Coffin, and carried first to St. Paul's, and then to Blackfryers-Church, and exposed to public view, thereby to prevent any from attempting his deliverance, his Body was afterwards butted at Chertsey in Surry; but was removed, by Henry the Seventh, to the chapel of Windsor. And, in the Year 1474, the Duke of Clarence was, by the procurement of his crookbacked Brother, condemned for Treason, and, after he had offered his Mass-Money in the Tower, was downed in a Butt of Malmsey. In the Year 1483, King Edward falling into a dangerous and deadly sickness, he caused the Lords to be called into his presence, and raising his sick body on the Pillow, he begged of them, for the Love they had ever born to him, and the Love that our Lord bore to them all, that from thence forward they would forget all former Injuries, and love each other, since the Glory of God, the Honour of their King, the Good of their Kindred, the Welfare of their Country, and the Safety of their Persons depended upon it. And, having said this, he departed this Life, April the Ninth, and was butted in the New chapel at Windsor, whose Foundations himself had laid: He left two Sons, Edward and Richard. Edward being dead, his eldest Son succeeded him, by the Name of King Edward the Fifth, being about Twelve Years of age, and was therefore committed to the Government of his Uncle, the Lord Rivers, and some others of the Queen's friends, which was laid hold on by the Duke of gloucester, his Crook-back'd Uncle, as a means whereby to effect his design of snatching the Crown from his Head, and placing it on his own; which design of his had been projected by him even in the time of his Brother's life, as appears from several passages that happened afterwards; and particularly, one Mistelbrooke going, before day, to speak with one Potior, a Servant of Glocesters, so soon as he came to his Presence he acquainted him, that King Edward died the Evening before; to which Potior replied, By my truth, if it be so, my Master, the Duke of gloucester, will now be King, and that you will see, ere long, I'll warrant you. Wherefore, as soon as he heard of the King's death, he repaired towards London, being then in the North. And Henry, Duke of Buckingham, sent one Persival, a Servant of his, to meet him at York, where he kept the King his Brother's Funeral, who, desiring to speak with the Duke in private, told him, That the Duke of Buckingham, his Master, would, in this new Scene of Affairs, take such part and interest as he should direct him, and would, if he thought fit, wait upon him with a Thousand Men. The Duke, having received this Message, returned the Messenger with great Thanks and secret Instructions to his Master; who, thereupon, went, attended with Three Hundred Horse, to meet the Duke at Northampton, and from thence went with him to London, and never left him till he saw him crwoned. So soon as they came to London, gloucester represented the Queen's friends, who were about the King, to be Enemies to the ancient Nobility, and Persons who would, under pretence of the King's Authority, endeavour to effect their ruin; by which means he drew in the Lord Hastings, and several other Noblemen, who always hated them, to join with him in endeavouring to destroy them. And, being informed, that the Lords about the King were about to bring him up from Ludlow, where he resided at the time of his Father's death, with a strong Guard, in order to his Coronation, he procured some to insinuate to the Queen, that it would be very prejudicial, both to her and the King, to bring him up to his Coronation with a great Guard, lest the Lords of her Kindred should thereby give occasion, to the Lords of the contrary Faction, to suspect, that it was not done so much out of respect to the King's safety, whom no man opposed, as with a design of ruining the ancient Nobility, in revenge of their former Quarrels, and so put them upon raising Men also for their defence, and thereby bring all the Nation into an uproar. By these specious Pretences the Queen was( altho' a subtle Woman) so far over-reached, that she instantly sent to the King and her Brother, to inform them, that she thought there was no occasion to assemble people together to bring the King to his Coronation, and that therefore it were much better to let it alone. And, at the same time, gloucester himself, and, by his procurement, all the Lords of his Party writ with so much reverence and veneration to the King, and love and friendship to the Queens friends that were about him, that they became altogether without suspicion. By which means, and the Queen's desire, they set forward, with the King, without those Guards they had designed to have raised. gloucester, having succeeded well in his designs hitherto, went with Buckingham, and the other Lords of his party, to meet the King; but when they met him at Stony-Stratford, finding that the Lord Rivers was not there, they passed on to Northampton, pretending that Stony-Stratford was so filled with the King's Train, that there was no room for them: They carried themselves very friendly to the Earl that Night, but in the Morning early, having first caused the Doors of the Inn to be locked, and the Keys to be delivered into their own hands, and gotten all their Servants in readiness, before any of the Earls were awake, or knew any thing of the matter, they seized his Person, and made him their Prisoner, upon pretence, that he went about to set the King against them. Having effected this, they posted away to Stony-Stratford, and arriving there, just when the King was going to Horseback, they saluted him on their bended knees, and he received him as graciously, knowing nothing of what they had done. But so soon as they were mounted again, the Duke of Buckingham said aloud, On afore, Gentlemen, and, Yeomen, keep your places; and therewith picked a Quarrel with the Lord Richard Grey, the Queen's Son, and half Brother to the King, saying, That he, the marquis, his Brother, and their Uncle, the Lord Rivers, had taken upon them to rule the King and Kingdom, and endeavoured to abuse the King's Power and Name, to destroy those of the Royal Blood, &c. The King told them, they had been misinformed, for he was certain there was nothing of truth in their Charge. My Liege, said Buckingham, we do believe, that they have kept the knowledge of their designs from your good Grace, but yet they have secretly carried on such a design. And thereupon they arrested him, Sir Tbomas Vaughan, and Sir Richard haul, in the King's presence, and carried the King, and all his Train back to Northampton, and there displaced and placed his Servants as they pleased; whereat the poor young King wept, but that availed him nothing. And having made this alteration among the King's Servants, and sent the Prisoners to several Prisons in the North, they conveyed the King to London, with abundance of seeming reverence. The Queen, being by this time informed how things went, was extremely confounded, and cursed her own credulity, in being so easily persuaded to advice the bringing up the King with his ordinary Guards. Several of the Nobles met together to consult what was to be done in that case; but their Fears and Jealousies being removed by the Lord Hastings, of whose Loyalty to the King no man doubted, they broken up, without coming to any Conclusion. Soon after gloucester brought the King to London, and lodged him in the Bishops Palace, where a great Council was held, in which all the Lords were sworn to Edward, and gloucester was chosen Protector of the King and Kingdom; who thereupon, to the end that he might finish his designed Project at once, resolved to get his Brother, the D. of York, into his hands likewise, pretending that he only was a fit Associate for the King, in regard both of his Age and Quality. The Arch-Bishop of York was thought the fittest person to persuade the Queen to deliver him, declaring that it was his opinion, that if she would not be persuaded to deliver him, they ought to take him out of Sanctuary by force. The Arch-Bishop undertook the business, altho' somewhat unwillingly, but the Queen, suspecting Glocester's mischievous design, pleaded his Infancy, his being very subject to Sickness, &c. as Reasons why she could not part with him, in regard none knew so well how to order him as her self, who had been always with him, nor was it likely that any would be so tender of him as the Mother that bore him. But yet, when she understood that gloucester would fetch him out by force, if she persisted in her refusal, she consented to deliver him to the Arch-bishop and the Lords that were with him, telling them, that she delivered both him and his Brother to their Faithfulness and Care, and that of them she would demand them both before God. And then, taking her leave of the Child, she said, My dear Babe, let me kiss thee once, before thou goest from me, for I am afraid I shall never kiss thee more. And then she Blessed him, saying, farewell my own sweet Son, God sand thee good keeping; and so went away from them weeping. The Lords having received the Duke, who wept as fast as his Mother, they carried him to the Protector, who received him with abundance of joy, and taking him into his Arms, gave him a traitorous kiss. And having now effected his desire, and gotten them both into his own hands, altho' he was their Uncle by Nature, their Protector by Office, infinitely obliged to their Father, in point of gratitude, for advancing of him, and to them by Oaths and Allegiance, yet he contrived, with the rest of his complices, to bereave not only the King of his Crown, and the Duke of his Dukedom, but both of their Lives, with as much speed as might consist with his own safety; and that he might effect it with the less suspicion, he caused all the Lords, which he knew to be faithful to the King, to assemble at Baynard's-Castle, to consult together about his Coronation, whilst himself and his Confidents met at Crosbies Palace, to contrive the contrary; to which Council he admitted very few, and they very secret and inward Friends, one of them being Catesby, a Creature of the Lord Hastings. The more intelligent of the King's friends began to suspect the truth, and the Lord stanley, who was afterwards Earl of Derby, told the Lord Hastings, that he did not like those two separate Councils, for whilst we talk of the Kings Coronation at one place, who knows what 'tis they are consulting at the other. To which Hastings replied, My Lord, never doubt it, for you may assure yourself, that while one Man is amongst them, who hath never been from them, there can be nothing spoken, to my prejudice, but it will be brought to me as soon as it is spoken by them, meaning Catesby. But he lost himself and the King both, by his overmuch confidence in the supposed Faithfulness of that ungrateful and perfidious man, who, to ingratiate himself with Crook-Back, and procure from him the Lord Hastings's Command, he did, upon his desire, try, by words cast out at a distance, if there were any possibility of winning the Lord Hastings to their designs. And finding there was not, he told the Protector, That he found him so tight to Edward's interest, that he durst move him no further. Whereupon the Protector removed the Council from Baynard's-Castle to the Tower, where the business of ordering the Coronation( for the solemnity whereof, Pageants were making night and day at Westminster, and Provisions killed) was seriously debated. About Nine of the Clock came the Protector, saluting them courteously, and excusing himself for coming so late; and turning to the Bishop of Ely, My Lord, said he, you have very good Strawberries at your House in Holborn, I wish we had a Mess of them. That you shall have, my Lord, immediately, said the Bishop; which being fetched and eaten, and he having engaged the Lords in discourse, he departed; but, about Eleven, returned again, knitting his Brows, and gnawing his Lips; in which posture he sat down in his place, to the astonishment of all the Lords, who very much wondered at so sudden a change: But, having sat a while, he angrily demanded, What Punishment they deserved, who imagined his destruction, since he was so near of Blood to the King, and Protector of his Royal Person and Kingdom? At which Question the Lords were all astonished, musing, within themselves, who he should mean thereby, since every man knew himself innocent. But, at length, the Lord Hastings, thinking, that in regard of the familiarity that was between them, he might be the boldest with him, said, They deserved to be punished as Traitors; and all the other Lords declared the same thing: That is then, said he, yonder Sorceress, my Brother's Wife. Which words were very displeasing to all the Lords, except Hastings, who, hating the Queen, only disliked that he was not made of the Protectors Council in this Matter, as well as he was in the taking up her Relations, whom he knew were that day to be beheaded at Pomfret; but little thought that the same fate, that he had devised for others, was at the same time devised against himself, by those whom he designed to be friend thereby: From whence we may learn, how usual it is with God to svit Mens Punishments to their Crimes. Then the Protector, stretching out his left Arm, plucked up his Doublet-sleeve, and shewed them a wasted, withered Arm, saying, See how that Sorceress, together with Shore's Wife, and others of their Council, have, with Sorcery and Witchcraft, wasted my Body. Which Speech made every Man's mind to misgive him, for in regard they all knew the Queen to be too wise to engage her self in so foolish a design, or if not, yet they were certain, that she would never make Shore's Wife of her Council, whom she hated implacably, and that his Arm was never otherwise since the day of his Birth. Hastings having kept Shore's Wife, ever since Edward's death, and being grieved to hear her joined with the Queen in this Accusation, which he knew to be false,( altho' he was willing to admit it to be true against the Queen) he said, My Lord, if they have so done, they are worthy to be punished. Whereat, the Protector storming and frowning, said, Dost thou serve me with ifs and And's, I tell thee, they have done it, and that I will make good on thy Body, Traitor. And therewith, as in a rage, strook his hand hard on the Table; at which sign, one, whom he had planted for that purpose without the Room, cried, Treason: whereupon a Door immediately opened into the Room, and as many Men, in Arms, came rushing in, as the Chamber would hold. Which done, he said to him, I Arrest thee, Traitor. What me, my Lord? said he. Yes, thou, Traitor, said he. One of the armed men struck at the Lord stanley likewise, and had cleaved his Head to his cannoners, had he not shrunk at the blow, and fallen under the Table; for, notwithstanding his being ware of it, yet it reached him so, as to make the Blood run about his Ears. Then was the Arch-bishop of York, Dr. Morton Bishop of Ely, the Lord stanley, and divers others, taken and committed to safe custody in several Chambers, and the Lord Hastings commanded to speed and shrive him apace, swearing, by St. Paul, That he would not go to Dinner, till he saw his Head off. Who, seeing that there was no remedy, called for a Priest, and, having made a short Confession,( for he could not be permitted to make a long one) he had his Head chopped off, upon a long piece of Timber that lay in the Tower-Green. But, to put the better colour upon this Barbarous murder, so soon as he had dined, he sent, in all hast, for several substantial Citizens to come to him in the Tower; and, against their coming, he, and his chief Agent, Buckingham, harnessed themselves in old rusty armor, as though some sudden and imminent danger had necessitated them thereunto, for their own defence. And, when they came, he told them, That the Lord Chamberlain, and others of his Conspiracy, contrived to destroy him, and Buckingham, suddenly, that Forenoon, as they sat at Council, and that he had not the least notice of it till Ten of the Clock the same day, and that was the cause why he had caused his Head to be struck off. And, the better to persuade People into a belief of it, he caused an Herald of Arms to proclaim it thoughout the City: And commanded the Sheriff of London to repair to Jane Shore's House, and spoil her of all that she had, and afterward procured the Bishop to make her do open Penance, for her former dalliance with King Edward. The Queen's Brother and her two Sons were executed at Pomfret, about the same hour that Hastings was at the Tower. The persons whom he most feared being thus removed, by death or imprisonment, or else discouraged by what had befallen their fellows, he caused Proclamation to be made, that the Coronation should, for several great and weighty Reasons, be deferred till the Second of the following November, hoping, that by setting the Common People a musing what the matter should be, and by keeping the Lords of the contrary Faction at London, remote from their strength, so that they should not know what to think, or whom to trust, he might the more securely carry on his designs, and transport the Crown to his own Head, before men should have time or means to resist. But the mischief on't was, he knew not how to break the Matter to the People, so as it might be well thought of by them, since it was of so heinous a nature. Wherefore he took several other persons, whom he thought he might trust, into his black Council, whereof Edmond show, who was at that time Lord Mayor of London, was one of them; for, being a man of a proud, aspiring mind, he hoped, by complying with the Protector, and endeavouring to model the City, according to his desire, to advance himself: And he drew in his Brother likewise, Dr. Ralph show, whom he procured to break the matter first to the People, in a Sermon at St. Paul's across, and endeavour, by the Authority of his Preaching, to induce them to approve of the Protector's wicked and ungodly purpose, and accept him for their King. The Protector gave him several directions, but the chief was, that he should lay Bastardy to King Edward the Fourth, whereby he accused his own Mother of Adultery, and to the young King and the rest of his Children, because their Father, King Edward, was privately married, as he pretended, to Dame Lucy, before he was to the Queen, and that she was his real Wife, that he might thereby prove, that there was a double disability in any of the Children to inherit the Crown. Which he undertaking, took for his Text, Spuria vitulamina non dabunt radices altas: Bastard slips shall never take deep root. And having, from this Text, shewed the Graces and privileges which God bestows on and infundeth in right Generation, the genuine Issue of a Matrimonial Contract: And that illegitimate Children, especially those begot in Adultery, seldom ever enjoyed those privileges, but usually were, for the punishment of their Parents, very unsuccessful and unfortunate in their Lives; and altho' they do sometimes inherit what they are not Heirs to, yet it seldom continues long in their Blood; for the truth being discovered, the Bastard-slips are plucked up before they take deep root. And then, having confirmed his Proposition by several Examples taken out of Sacred and Civil Stories, he began to set forth the Praises of the Protector, saying, He only was the right and legitimate Heir of Richard, Duke of York, Edward and the Duke of Clarence being both of them accounted spurious, by those who were of privacy in that Family. Besides which, King Edward was never lawfully married to the Queen, but his Wife, before God, was the Lady Elizabeth Lucy, and therefore his Children were Bastards, and so could be no Inheritors of the Crown: But the Lord Protector, that Brave and Noble Prince, who was a Patron of all Knightly Powers, as well in all Princely Behaviour, as in the Beauty and Comeliness of his Person, represented the very Face of the Noble Duke his Father; He is, said he, his Father's own Figure and Image. And now it was agreed, that, at the uttering of these words, the Protector should have come in amongst the People to the Sermon, that so the Words, meeting with his Person, might be taken by the Hearers, as if the Holy Ghost had put them in the Preacher's Mouth, and might thereby have been moved to cry out, King Richard; whereby it should be thought that he was chosen by God himself, as it were by a Miracle. But the Protector delaying his coming, for fear he should come before the person came to that part of his Sermon, and the person hastening over the rest of his Matter, for fear he should not come to it time enough for it to meet with the Duke's presence, at his first approach, the contrivance was spoiled, and the Duke came too late: But, at length, he and Buckingham came, and the Doctor thereupon shamelessly broken off from the Matter he was then speaking of, and, out of all order and method, repeated the villainous harangue, saying, This is the very Noble Prince who is the especial Patron, &c. But the People were so far from answering their expectation, and crying out King Richard, that they stood like so many lifeless figures of Men. The shameless Sermon being thus unsuccessful, the Preacher went home with an heavy heart, and, in a few days, died of grief. This Sermon having done them no kindness, they resolved to try another method; wherefore, on the Tuesday following, Buckingham, and divers Lords and Gentlemen, went to Guild-Hall, attended with the Mayor, and sate down at the East end of it, where the Hustings is kept, together with all the Aldermen: And having all the Commons of the City assembled, and standing before them, after silence commanded in the Protector's Name, the Duke, who was a Man of much Eloquence, stood up, and told them, That, for the Zeal and hearty Love they bore to the Honourable City of London, they were come to speak to them, of a matter of great weight and concern; which would be very advantageous to you, said he, pleasing to God, and profitable to the whole Kingdom: A thing that you have long stood in need of, and greatly desired: A thing that you would have gone far to fetch, and would have accounted no Price too great, or Labour too hard, that could have obtained. But now we bring it, and offer it to you, without your exposing yourselves to any Labour, Charges, Adventure or Danger; which thing, is the safety of your Lives, the security of your Wives, Daughters, and Estates, and the securing you the quiet possession of them all: Which, you could not promise yourselves in the time of the late King's Reign, when so many Traps and Snares were laid for them, and so many Taxes and Tallages Imposed, when there was no need, or if there were, it proceeded only from Riot and unreasonable waste, and not from any necessary Honourable Charge. You were daily Pillaged, that so unthrifts might be enriched with your Wealth, insomuch that Fifteenths, nor, indeed, any term of known Taxes sufficed not, but, under the easy Names of Benevolence and good Will, the Commissioners took more of every Man than they were willing to give, as though the importance of Benevolence and good Will had signified so much, that every Man should pay, not what he of his own good Will pleased to bestow, but what the King, of his good Will, list to demand: Whereby light things were made heavy, and easy things hard, and amercements were turned into Fines, and Fines into Treason. I suppose, it is altogether needless, that I remember you of examples by Name, since Burdel is so fresh in your memories, who was, as you all know, for an innocent word, spoken in jest to his Child, and saying, he would make him heir to the Crown( meaning his own House, which had the Crown for its Sign) cruelly Beheaded: Nor can you have forgotten Sir Thomas Cook, Alderman and Mayor of this Noble City, who was spoiled and ruined, only for happening to favour some whom the Prince did not. But, what need I to multiply instances, since, I am certain, there are many of you, that are here present, who were great sufferers in your own Persons, or your near Relations, either by devised Quarrels, or at least by small Offences, called by heinous Names, and thereby aggravated into Capital Crimes. For, the King coming to the Crown by battle, it was Crime enough, in a rich Man, to have been related to, or had familiarity with any Man who was, or ever had been, the King's Enemy, which was, first or last, more than half the Kingdom; whereby your Lives, Goods and Estates, together with your Wives and Children, were in perpetual Jeopardy: Besides the common Peril of open War, which is ever the occasion of much mischief, especially when the War is between ourselves. And never was a War so fatal, in regard of its long continuance, and the multitude of Battels which were fought, and Lives that were lost therein; as in the King's days that is dead, whose getting and keeping the Crown, and losing and winning it again, cost more English Blood than was spent in the twice winning France: Besides, many good Towns ransacked and spoiled by those who were going to, or returning from the Field; and whoever got the Victory, you were sure of Peace no longer than till the other side were able to recruit. And when Edward had at last overcome all his Opposers, and freed you from danger that way, yet, who was there, among you, that was out of peril, upon the account of your Riches, or some surmised and groundless fear of your Fidelity, or some displeasure taken against you, for imaginary, or, at least, but trivial Offences; for whom would he trust or spare, that would not trust or spare his own Brother: And so great an interest had his Favourites over him, that all things were managed as they pleased; insomuch, that there was more svit made in his days to Shore's Wife, a base and abominable Strumpet, than to all the Lords in Enggland, except those who made her their Protectress: Which simplo Woman was reputed to be an honest and virtuous Wife, till the King took her from her Husband, who was an honest and substantial Man among you, to satisfy his Lust and sinful Desires. And, the truth is,( although I am sorry to speak it, did I not think it a vain nicety, to keep Counsel in that which is known to all Men) the King's greedy desire after Women was insatiable; for, to what part of the Nation soever he went, he could not set his eyes upon any Woman, whom he fancied, for Make, Beauty, Speech or Gate, but he would, in defiance of the fear of God, his own Honour, or his Subjects murmur, pursue her with importunity, till he obtained her Consent, to the destruction of many good Women, and the grief of their Husbands or other Relations. And, though the Nation was in every place oppressed, by these and the like Practices, yet were you more especially subject to his Avarice, both because there is, among you, more plenty of such things as minister matter to such injuries, and because you were nearer at hand. Although you are a People, whom he had all imaginable reason to treat well, in regard London is the Metropolis of the Kingdom, and, through her means, the Prince receiveth great Honour and famed among Foreign Nations; besides which, you always, to your great Cost and Danger, assisted him in all his Wars: For which kindness of yours to the House of York, since he hath but ill requited you, there is one of that House, which shall now, by Gods Grace, make you full recompense, which is the thing we are come to acquaint you with. I hope, I need not remember you of what you heard on Sunday last, from him that can better tell it, and of whom, I am sure, you will better believe it, for I am not so vain to expect you should give as much credit to my words, as to the Preachers of Gods Word. You know, that after he had shown you, that the Children of King Edward were Illegitimate, and had no right to the Crown, he acquainted you with the undoubted Title of the Lord Protector; which thing, well considered, together with the extraordinary virtues that abound in his Royal Person, the Nobles and Commons of this Kingdom, especially those of the Northern Parts, being unwilling that any Bastard Blood should any longer Reign over them, and exercise the same abuses, their Progenitors had done before them, have Resolved to make our Humble Petition to the Puissant Prince, the Lord Protector, that it may please his Grace, upon our Humble Desire, to take upon him the Government of this Kingdom, according to his just right& title. I know he will not be willing to accept it, in regard he knows the difficulty in the well discharging that Office, which is not fit to be exercised by a Child, and that the Great Wise Man well knew, when he said, Vae Regno, cujus Rex puer est: Wherefore, we have great reason to thank God, that this Person, who is so righteously entitled thereunto, is of so solid an Age, and that he hath so much Wisdom joined to his great Experience. But, although he may be loth to take the Government upon him, yet, if ye, who are the Citizens of the Chief City in England, will join with Us the Nobles, in our Request, which we doubt not but you will for your own good, yet we pray you so to do; and, assure yourselves, that, in making choice of so good a King, you will oblige his Majesty ever to bear you the more tender favour: And therefore, if you intend to join your hand with us, then declare it to us. But the People, who were all amazed at the Duke's Discourse, stood still and mute, and answered not a word. At which, the Duke, who expected the People had been before-hand prepared by the Mayor to comply with what he had to say, often whispered to the Mayor, to know the reason of that profound silence; who told them, That probably it might be, because they did not well understand him; if that be it, said he, I shall soon mend that: And, thereupon, rehearsed much of the matter of what he had said to them in different words, and with a louder voice, but effected no more than before. Whereupon, the Mayor told him, They had been always used to be spoken to by the Recorder, who was the Mouth of the City, and probably to him they would answer. Whereupon, the Recorder, who was, at that time, Sir Thomas Fitz-William, was desired to speak; but he being a sober honest Man, and but newly come to the Office, and had never spoken to them before, was very unwilling to begin with such an Ungodly& Treasonable business: But, being pressed thereunto, he, at last, made a rehearsal of what the Duke had twice before proposed to them, but he delivered all as the Duke's Words, and no part of it as his own, but it made no alteration on the People. Whereupon, the Duke said to the Mayor, This is a marvellous obstinate silence; and therewith, turning to the People again, he said, Dear Friends, we come to move you to a thing, which peradventure we needed not to have done, since the Lords and Commons, of other parts, might have done it without you, were it not that our Love to you, and our desire of your Good, is such, that we would not willingly do that without, wherein to be Partners, would be every way so advantageous to you, and yet it seems to us as if you regarded it not: Wherefore, we require an Answer what you intend to do, and whether you do desire to have this Noble Prince, the Lord Protector, to be your King? At which words, the People began softly to whisper, to each other, about the matter. Whereupon, some of the Dukes Servants, and others, who depended upon Buckingham and gloucester, being gotten together, for that purpose, at the lower end of the Hall, cried out, with a loud Voice, at the Citizens backs, A King Richard, God Save King Rlchard, and therewith threw up their Caps for Joy. The Citizens, hearof it, looked back to see who they were, but said never a word; which, when the Duke and Mayor saw, they made use of it to their advantage, and said, it was a Blessed and Joyful cry, to hear every Man, with one Voice, declaring their unanimous Choice of the Protector to be their King, and no Man saying nay, whereof we shall, said the Duke, make his Grace so well acquainted, that it shall redound much to your advantage: Wherefore, we desire you to go with us to morrow, and we with you, to make our Humble Request to his Noble Grace, that he would take it upon him. Accordingly, on the morrow, the Mayor, Aldermen, and the chief of the Commoners, appareled after their best manner, resorted to the Protector, at Baynard's Castle, whither also repaired Buckingham, and many other Persons of Quality, according to Agreement. And when they were met together, Buckingham desired the Protector's Pardon, and Licence to acquaint his Grace with the intent of their coming,( as if he had not been acquainted with it before) and having obtained it, he told him, It was to make their Humble Petition to him, to accept of the Crown and Government of the Realm, according to his Just Right and Title; at which words, he began to look angrily, and told them, He could by no means yield thereunto. Whereupon Buckingham threatened, That, if he would not, they would find out some other that would, for they were resolved, that King Edward's Lineage should no longer Reign over them: Upon which threatening, he was pleased to take the Crown as his Just Right, whereat the People Shouted, and cried, King Richard, King Richard. Richard, being thus chosen, and shortly after established King by Act of Parliament, took his Seat in the King's-Bench-Court, and pronounced Pardon of all Offences that had been at any time committed against him: And, at the Tower, Created Estates, Ordained the Knights of the Bath, set at liberty the Arch-Bishop of York, and the Lord stanley, for fear of his Son, the Lord Strange, who was said to be in Lancashire, raising of Men; he was likewise made Steward of his household, but the Bishop of Ely was delivered to the Duke of Buckingham, who sent him to his House at Brecknock, to be kept in safe Custody. July the sixth he was crwoned at Westminster, in greater state than any who had been before him: But knowing, that while his two Nephews lived, the Crown could never stand firm upon his head, he resolved to dispatch them; in order whereunto, taking his way to gloucester, to visit, in his new Honour, the Place from which he derived his former Title, he sent one Green, a man whom he thought he might trust, back to Sir Robert Blackenbury, Constable of the Tower, with a Letter; wherein he desired him to dispatch the Children before he returned. But Blackenbury told the Messenger, He would not meddle with so bloody a thing, if he were sure to die for his refusal. Green, having received this Answer, overtook the King at Warwick, in his way to gloucester, and acquainted him therewith; who was so grieved thereat, that, as he sat easing himself the same Evening, he said to a secret page. of his, Ah! who shall a man trust, since those whom I have brought up, and thought would most surely have served me, have failed me? Sir, quoth the page., there lieth one in the Pallet Chamber without, that I am certain will do your Grace's pleasure, meaning James Tirel. Whereupon, rising from the place where he sat easing of himself, he went directly to that Chamber, and finding him in Bed, with his Brother, Sir Thomas Tirel, he said merrily, Sirs, be you in Bed so soon? and desiring James to rise, acquainted him with his murderous Design; who readily undertook it, without any hesitation: Whereupon Richard dispatched him the next Morning, with a Letter to Blackenbury, wherein he commanded him to deliver the Keys of the Tower to Tirel for one Night, to the end that he might there accomplish the King's Pleasure, in such things as he had given him in charge. Tirel, having delivered the Letter, and received the Keys, resolved to dispatch them that Night. Now you must know, that when Edward was told, that his Uncle had left the Title of Protector, and taken that of King, he answered, I would to God my Uncle would let me have my Life, tho' I lose my Kingdom. To which, he that told him answered, There was no doubt of it. But, however, he and his Brother were both shut up, and all their Attendants, except six; two whereof were set to serve them, and the rest to see them kept secure. After which he never tied his Points, nor regarded himself in the least, but, with his Brother, lingered out the short remainder of his Life, in a sorrowful expectation of Death, till Tirel's villainy delivered them of that wetchedness. Tirel, having contrived that they should be murdered in their Beds, and no blood shed, he sent one Miles foreste, who was one of the four that kept them, and John Dighton, his own Horse-keeper, into their Chamber, about Midnight, to execute his bloody Contrivance; who, finding them asleep in their Bed, lapped them up in their Bed-clothes, and, by main force and strength, kept down the Feather-bed and Pillows upon them, till they were stisted and gave up their innocent Souls into the hands of him, from whom they received them, and were butted by the Murtherers under the Stairs; by Richard's Order they were taken up again, and, being enclosed in led, were thrown into a place in the Thames-mouth, called the Black Deeps. So soon as the murder was over, Tirel hastened to the King, and told him all the Circumstances wherewith it was performed: Who gave him great thanks, and made him a Knight. But the Justice of God overtook all that had any hand in this Treasonable murder; for Miles forest, at St. Martins le Grand, rotted away by piece-meals, and Dighton lived afterwards at Calice, where he was hated and pointed at by all men, and died miserable; Tirel was beheaded, under Henry the Seventh, for Treason; and King Richard himself was slain in the Field, and his Body being first hacked and mangled by his Enemies, and then disdainfully thrown naked across a Horse, like a Calf, and carried to Leicester, and there as disdainfully butted. So soon as the Children were murdered, Richard caused the report of their Death to be spread abroad, affirming, that they died suddenly, to the end that when all men knew that there was no Heir-Male of King Edward left alive, they might the more willingly obey him. But there was none who believed any other, but that they were murdered, altho' they knew not the manner how it was done, and, greatly bewailing their untimely death, cried to God for vengeance upon the murderer, especially the Queen and her Friends. When King Richard went to visit Glocecester, the Duke of Buckingham went with him, and, all the time he stayed there, they seemed to be the same intimate friends that they had ever been before; but when the King left gloucester, Buckingham went not with him, but repaired to his own House at Brecknock, having conceived such a displeasure against the King, that he entred, from that time, into a deadly Conspiracy against him; the cause whereof I could not find out, but the most probable story that is alleged for it by Historians, is, the Kings denying to restore him to part of the Duke of Hartford's Estate, to which he said he was Heir, together with Richard's murdering the Children; for although he was for deposing them from the Crown, yet he would have had them maintained in an honourable state. As soon as he came home therefore he began to discourse with his Prisoner, the Bishop of Ely, concerning the state of Affairs, and desired him to speak his mind to him freely; but the Bishop told him, He loved not to talk with Princes, in regard it was not very safe so to do, since the words that are spoken, though they be innocent in themselves, yet they may be wrested, and taken in the sense the Prince pleases to construe them in, to the destruction of the speaker. But, although he was very shy, at the first, to talk with the Duke of State Matters, yet when, by often discourse, and other circumstances, he perceived the Duke to have conceived a perfect and an irreconcilable enmity to the Usurper, he spake his mind freely enough, rendering the Tyrant as odious as possible, and commending him as a person of such rare virtues, that he merited to wear the Crown himself; which he begged of him; for God's and his Country's sake, to do, or else to device some other way to rid the Nation of a Tyrant, and restore it to its former Peace and Tranquillity. To which the Duke, after he had pondered a while upon this discourse, answered, That although he did at first think to have pretended to the Crown himself, yet, finding he had but a slender Title, and that his Cousin, the Earl of Richmond, had a better than himself, he would therefore prefer him; and that he would conclude a Marriage between him, who was the undoubted Heir of the House of Lancaster, and the Lady Elizabeth, eldest Daughter to King Edward the Fourth, who was now the only Heir of the House of York, and so put a final end to that fatal difference, which hath been so long maintained between the two Houses. Which contrivance being highly approved of by the Bishop, they first acquainted the Mothers therewith, and employed divers trusty Messengers to interest the Gentry therein; and then, together with the Countess of Richmond, sent to inform the Earl with their contrivance; who, liking it extremely, presently prepared for conveying himself into England. Which the King hearing of, and knowing Buckingham to be the first contriver of the Conspiracy, sent for him to come to Court, because he stood in great need of his Counsel. But the Duke mistrusting his smooth words, sent him word, That he was sickly, and not well able to travail, and therefore humbly desired to be excused. Richard therefore sent again, and commanded him to come, threatening him, if he refused. To which Letter, seeing there was no putting him off any longer, he sent this resolute Answer, That he would not come to his Mortal Enemy: And thereupon immediately prepared to make War against him. Then came Thomas, marquis of Dorset, out of Sanctuary, and raised an Army in the North: And Sir Edward Courtny, and his Brother, the Bishop of Exeter, raised another in Devonshire and cornwall: And Sir Richard guildford, and other Gentlemen, another in Kent; all which was done in a moment. But the Usurper marching against Buckingham, whose Forces were most of them Welsh, they, for want of Pay, and other Provisions, broken up their Camp, and left the Duke to shift for himself; which, when the rest of the Confederates understood, they likewise dispersed themselves. And the Duke, in disguise, repaired, for security, to a Servant of his, near Shrewsbury, whose Name was Banister; who, hearing of a Thousand Pound Reward, promised in a Proclamation by the Usurper, for the taking of the Duke, betrayed him, in hope of obtaining it. And the Duke, being thus taken, was carried from thence, with a great Guard, to Salisbury; and there, without Arraignment or trial, lost his Head. However, Banister not only lost his promised Reward, but was likewise most remarkably punished from Heaven, for his Treachery to his Master; for his eldest Son ran man, and died in a Hog-sty; his second Son became deformed and lame in his Limbs; his eldest Daughter was struck with a leprosy; and himself, in his old Age, was found guilty of murder. Divers of Richmond's partakers were at this time put to death, and so jealous was the Usurper of his ill-gotten greatness, that he sored the Sea-coast with armed Men, thereby to prevent the landing of the Earl of Richmond. And he called a Parliament, wherein he procured the Earl, and such as had fled the Land in his behalf, to be Attainted, and declared Enemies to their Native Country, and their Goods and Possessions condemned to the King's use. Moreover, he sent his Agents, laden with Gold and large Promises, to the Duke of Britain, to persuade him to deliver him up, or commit him to safe custody in Britain. Which the Duke not only refused to do, but also assisted him in the Preparations he was making to recover his Kingdom. Whilst Richmond was preparing to invade the Usurper, he endeavoured to make his Title as strong as he could, and devised how he might mary with the Lady Elizabeth, his Brothers Eldest Daughter, but his Queen and stood in the way; however, it was not long-e're she was removed out of it by death, which some suspected to be hastened: After which, he Courted this Lady Elizabeth, but in vain, for she abhorred the thoughts of being espoused to such a villainous and Unnatural Tyrant, who had, in so gross a manner, abused her Parents, and murdered her Brethren. However, when the Earl heard of his Attempts therein, and not knowing what time and flattery might do upon the Princesses good Nature, he hastened his Preparation, and put to Sea five thousand Britains, and forty Ships well furnished; but, before they were got far, the Wind changed, and blew so high, that with the strength of the Storm, his Ships were all dispersed, some of them being driven into Normandy, some back again into Britain, and that wherein himself was, together with a small Bark which still kept with him, was cast, the next morning, on the cost of England, near the Haven of Pool, in Dorsetshire: And perceiving that there were Soldiers placed all along the Shore, to prevent his Landing, he charged his Men, that none of them should go on Shore till the whole Fleet were arrived. But while he tarried there for them, he desired to inform himself of a certain, whether those Men, which stood Armed on the Shore, were his Enemies or his Friends; in order whereunto, he sent some to see if they could discover the truth, who were, as soon as they came near the Shore, desired by them to Land, affirming, according to their instructions, that they were, by Buckingham, and others of Richmond's Friends, ordered to wait for his Arrival, and Conduct him, as soon as he was Landed, to a Place about two or three Miles distant, where the Duke lay encamped, with a numerous Army, to join with him in the obtaining his Right: But Richmond suspecting the truth, that this was but a pretence to ensnare him, Commanded his Men, that none of them should dare to go on Shore till the rest of his Fleet was Arrived. But when he had continued there for some time, and saw none of his Ships appear, he directed his Course to Normandy, to refresh his Men; and having obtained a safe Conduct from the French King, he went from thence to Britain by Land, where he met those who were fled out of England, and learned from them the Fate of the Duke of Buckingham. Richard, hearing that he was returned to Britain, resolved to try, once again, if it were possible to get him detained there; and therefore sent ambassadors to the Duke, who were ordered to offer a large sum of money in hand, and a promise, that Richard should Yearly pay to the Duke, all the Revenues and Profits arising from the Earl's Estate, and from the Estates of all those Noble-men which were in his Company, if he would commit them to perpetual Imprisonment. And when they, who were employed in this embassy, arrived in Britain, they found the Duke sick, so that they could not Treat with himself; but seeing Peter Landoyse, his chief Treasurer, managed and disposed of all things as he pleased, as though he had been Duke, they made their Applications to him, offering him what they should have offered the Duke, if he would be so friendly, as to gratify their King's Request: Which great offer so blinded the eyes of the covetous Wretch, that Richmond had been lost for ever, had not the Bishop of Ely, by some Letters which he happened to see in Flanders, where he then resided, discovered it, and immediately sent away Christopher Urswick, to advertise him of his danger, and to fly with all speed into France. Whereupon, being very much surprised, he presently sent away some from Vannes, where he then sojourned, to desire of the French King, that he would Licence him and his Friends to pass into France; and having obtained it, he sent all his Noblemen before-hand, under the Conduct of the Earl of Pembroke, as if they were only going to visit the Duke, who then lay on the Confines of France, for the benefit of the Air, but directed them, when they came at the Marches and Limits of Britain, that they should take their next way into France, which accordingly they did, riding all the way as swiftly as their Horses Legs were able to move: And two days after, he likewise departed from Vannes with five Servants only, that so, who saw him might think he went to visit one or other of his Friends in some adjoining Village; and being gotten about five Miles from the City, he went into a solitary Wood, and there changed clothes with one of the meanest of his Servants, whom he made Leader of his small Company, and waited on him as a page., and then advanced forward on his journey, never resting or refreshing themselves till they were got safe into France. Four days after the Earl's departure from Vannes, the Treasurer came thither with a crew of Soldiers( whom he had got together, under pretence of serving the Earl in his passage to England) to have seized on him, and finding him gone, he stormed extremely, and sent after him several Light-Horsemen into all the Roads, and those who took the right, were so near over-taking of him, that he was not entred into France above an hour before they came to the Confines: But Duke Frances being recovered, and hearing how basely the Earl had been Treated in his Dominions, was extremely enraged against the Treasurer, and sent into France to excuse it to the Earl, and to assure him of his continued Friendship. From Anjou he went to King Charle's Court, which was then at Langes, where he was kindly received and had large promises made him of great Assistance in his Enterprise. And, while he was there, the Earl of Oxford, who was sent to the Castle of hams by King Edward, upon his getting the Crown, and had remained a Prisoner there till this time, came to him, together with James Blunt, who was Captain of the Castle, and Sir John Fortescue, Porter of Calice; who were both persuaded by the Earl, not only to set him at Liberty, but to forsake their gainful employments, and go with him to the Earl of Richmond: Blunt, when he left the Castle, in regard he could not take his Wife and Family with him, he Fortified it with new strength. After the French King had spent some time at Langes, he returned to Paris, and Richmond followed him thither, soliciting him to hasten the promised Aids; in answer whereunto, he received Answers which very much encouraged and pleased him for the present, but, in the end, he found nothing but French performances, which were no way suitable to the necessity of his Condition. When Richard heard that the Castle of hams was delivered into Henry's hands by Blunt, he commanded the governor of Calice to reduce it; upon the Report whereof, they within prepared for their Defence, and sent the Earl of Richmond word, desiring he would relieve them: Whereupon, the Earl sent a select Company of Soldiers, under the Command of the Earl of Oxford, to raise the Siege, who, at his first Arrival, pitched his little Camp just by the Besiegers, and, whilst they had a watchful eye upon him, lest he should attempt something against them, he sent Thomas Brandon, with thirty stout Men, to enter the Castle by a Marsh which lay on the other side of it; which he performed, and thereby so much encouraged the Soldiers of the Garrison, that they immediately began to Fire more furiously than ever upon the Besiegers, which Oxford perceiving, he assaulted them likewise: Whereupon, they immediately offered to let all that were in the Castle, to march out with Bag and Baggage, nothing excepted; which being as much as they came for, the Earl accepted the Conditions, and those within marched out of the Castle, carrying with them, all the Provisions and Artillery, and were conveyed, by the Earl, to the Earl of Richmond. About which time, Richard hearing that the Aids, which were promised to be raised, for Richmond, in France, were delayed from time to time, and were never like to be obtained by him, he sent home the greatest part of the Soldiers, which Guarded the Sea-Coast, only charging them, to be in readiness upon the least warning; and charging those, who lived on the cost, to fire the Beacons, if they should see Richmond approach, and so resolved to give himself over to more pleasure than he had been able to take, since the first News of Richmond's pretending to the Crown. The marquis of Dorset likewise, who was Son to Queen Elizabeth, by her former Husband, being alured by the enticing Letters which his Mother sent to him, after her mutable mind was reconciled to King Richard, stuffed with large promises, of great Preferments by the Usurper, if he would forsake the Earl of Richmond, and come over to him; and withal, being discouraged by seeing how ill things were carried in the French Court, stolen out of Paris in the night, and posted with all speed toward Flanders: But Richmond being informed of his departure, and being much amazed thereat, desired of the French King, that it might be lawful for him, in his Name, and by his Order, to seize on him, in any part of his Dominions, where they should find him. Which being granted, he sent some of his Friends to follow him through all the Roads in Paris, and being overtaken, by humphrey Cheiny, near Campaign, he was brought back to the Earl, to his no small joy; who, fearing that his delay might prove further disadvantageous to him, he resolved, with what Aid he could get, to adventure into England: And therefore, having gotten some small relief from the French King, for which he left, as a pledge, the marquis of Dorset, whom he now more than half mistrusted, and Sir John Bourchier, he departed from the French Court to rouen; where, while he was making Provision, and getting all things in readiness, he was advised to make all imaginable speed, in regard Richard prosecuted the business of marrying the young Lady with more eagerness: Wherefore he weighed Anchor, and departed from Harfleet, and in seven days arrived in Wales, where he was promised some assistance. And Landing at Milford-Haven, he came to Dalle, and from thence marched to Harford-West, where he was joyfully received; and whilst he was there, Arnold Butler, a Valiant Captain came to him, and assured him, that the Inhabitants of Pembroke were ready to march under their Earl's Command, to take part in his Quarrel: Upon the receiving of which News, he marched to Cardigan, and as he lay there refreshing his Men, he heard that Sir Walter Herbert, lay encamped with a great Army at Carmarthen, with a resolution to give him battle; which report greatly troubled him, and those that were with him, so that they began presently to put themselves into a posture of defence, and sent out several Horsemen to observe his Motion, who returned in a little time, and affirmed, the Country to be all still and quiet, and no news of any Army to be heard: Which was likewise confirmed by Sir Richard Griffeth and John Morgan, who came to him with their Men. The Earl, being now satisfied that the report was false, marched forward, and took in all the Places which Richard had Garrisoned against him, very few whereof made any resistance. And hearing another false report, that Sir Walter Herbert, and Rice ap Thomas, were preparing to encounter him, he resolved to set on them first; but when he drew near Shrewsbury, Rice ap Thomas came over to him with a good Band of Welsh-men, and was made governor of Wales, by Henry, for his being the first Welsh-man that came to help him to recover his Kingdom: Then he sent to his Mother, and the rest of his friends, to acquaint them where he was, and how things were with him, desiring they would meet him, as soon as possible, with what Aid they could get together, which they promised to do. Whereupon, he marched from Shrewsbury to Newport, whither Sir Gilbert Talbot brought him two thousand Men from the Earl of Shrewsbury; and when he was arrived at Stafford, Sir William Stanley came to him privately, and having debated with him what was to be done, he departed to his Soldiers, which he had raised to serve the Earl, at the day of battle, but, in the mean time, pretended them for Richard: The Earl went from thence to Lichfield, and was there received like a King. King Richard, who then kept his Court at Nottingham, being told that Henry was landed in Wales, with so inconsiderable a company, and unprovided of all things necessary for such an Enterprise, he was so infatuated, that he looked upon it as a mere trifle, not worthy to be minded, saying, The Earl was innocent and childish, to attempt the Conquest of such a Kingdom, with so thin and despicable an Army, and that when it came to the point, that he should be compelled to fight against his will, he would be either taken alive, or slain upon the place. But being told, by those about him, that great things were often effected by small beginnings, that this War, which he thought so inconsiderable now, might, if neglected, grow greater, and prove more fatal than he imagined; he writ to the Duke of Norfolk, and several other Noblemen whom he thought he might trust, to raise what Men they could among their Servants and Tenants, and commanded Sir Robert Brakenbury to bring with him Sir Thomas Bourchier, and Sir Walter Hungerford, and divers other Persons of Quality, whom he suspected, the better to secure them from going over to the Earl. But whilst he was thus preparing an Army to impede the Earl's farther progress, he received the mushroom tidings, that he had, without any opposition, passed the Severn, and was advanced as far as Shrewsbury, with a design to march directly to London; and he was so grieved and enraged thereat, that he imprecated Vengeance upon those who, contrary to their Oaths and Promises, had thus deceived him, and became so distrustful of others, that he resolved, the same day, to advance against his Rival himself, and immediately sent away some to learn where he was, and observe his motion. And understanding by them, that the Earl was encamped at Litchfield, he advanced towards him in the following order: First he caused his Battales to advance four and four in a rank, after them Carriages, followed by his Satellites and Yeomen of the Crown, who being all passed, himself, with a frowning countenance and dreadful aspect, mounted on a stately white Courser, followed with his Footmen, the Wings of Horsemen coasting and ranging themselves on every side of him; in which manner he came to Leicester about Sunset, and entred the Town in great pomp and splendour. Henry, hearing of Richard's resolution, raised his Camp, and marched towards him: Whereupon Sir Thomas Bourchier, Sir Walter Hungerford, and the rest of the Gentlemen, whom Brakenbury had brought with him from London, according to Richard's command, forsook him, and went to Henry; who, in his march to Tamworth, met with a strange Adventure, for being extremely troubled, that he could not be secure of his Father-in-Law, Thomas Lord stanley,( who fearing if he should declare himself for the Earl, before the day of battle, his Son, the Lord Strange, whom he left with Richard, as an Hostage, would be cruelly put to death, still pretended for Richard) he became melancholy and pensive, and musing with himself what was best to be done, he lingered so long behind, that by reason of his distance from the Army and the darkness of the Night, he could not see which way to follow them; whereupon, after having in vain wandered several ways, in hope of finding them, he went to a little Village, about three Miles from his Army, being accompanied with three Horsemen only, where he tarried all Night, not daring to ask any Question, for fear of being discovered and betrayed. Nor was he less perplexed in the Morning, for fear of being intercepted by some of Richard's Scouts, in his return to his Army, which was as much amazed and troubled, at his absence, as himself. But being return'd to them, in safety, he pretended he went out of the way, on purpose to hear some glad tidings from his Friends, and the same Evening he stolen away privately and went to Anderstone, where he understood his Father-in-Law and his Brother, Sir William stanley, then resided with their Men, who came to him in a little Field near the Town, and, after mutual embraces, consulted with him how to give King Richard battle. The same Evening Sir John Savage, and divers other Persons of Quality, forsook Richard's Camp, and came and submitted themselves to him. King Richard departed from Leicester to Market-Bosworth, and encamped himself in an adjoining Field, which was convenient for the battle; whereupon the Earl removed thither, and pitched his Camp just by his Enemies. In the Morning early, Richard brought his Men out of their Camp, and placed them in battle-array, and disposed his Van-guard of a wonderful length, in which he placed both Horse-men and Foot-men, hoping thereby to strike a sudden terror into the heart of his Enemies, and in the fore-front he placed his Archers, like a strong fortified Trench or Bulwark, all which was commanded by the Duke of Norfolk. After this followed King Richard himself, with a strong Body of chosen Men, having Horsemen on both sides of his battle. After which the Earl prepared to give him battle, and supposing the Lord stanley( who then lay in an indifferent place between both Armies) to be better acquainted with marshal Affairs than himself, he desired him to come to help him in ordering the battle: But he made answer, That he would have him do it himself, and he would not fail to come to him in time convenient, when it might be most for the Earl's service and his own safety. The Earl was not well pleased with this Answer, but seeing there was no remedy, he undertook it, and disposed his battle in the following order: He ordered his Van-guard, commanded by the Earl of Oxford, single and slender in regard of the small number of his Army, in the front whereof he placed his Archers, the Right Wing he gave to Sir Gilbert Talbot, and the Left to Sir John Savage, and himself commanded the Main battle. And when he had thus ordered his small Host, not exceeding 5000 Men, he rid from Rank to Rank, and Wing to Wing, to encourage his Men, being armed at all points, except his Helmet, and mounting himself upon a Hill, so that all his Army might see him, he bespoke their Courage and Valour, in Words to this effect: Brave Friends and Followers, If ever God gave Victory to Men, fighting in a Just Quarrel, or aided those who fought for the Welfare of their Country, and adventured their Lives for the relief of the innocent, then I am confident he will this day give us a triumphant Victory, for nothing can be more honest and commendable, than to fight against one who is a Homicide and murderer of his own Blood and Progeny, an Usurper and a Tyrant. Tarquin was bereaved of his Kingdom for his Tyranny, altho' his fault was not so detestable as the inhuman fact of cruel Nero. But behold yonder Tyrant, against whom we are to fight, is both Tarquin and Nero; nay, is worse than either, than both of them; For he hath not only murdered his Nephew, who was his King and Sovereign, bastardized his Noble Brethren, defamed the Womb of his virtuous and Religious Mother, but also endeavoured, by all imaginable ways, carnally to know his Niece, under the pretence of a cloaked Matrimony; which Lady I have promised, and sworn to mary and make my Wife, as you all know. Now, if this Cause be not Just and Godly, let God, who is the only giver of Victory, judge and determine. We have passed the Dangers of the Seas and the Snares of our Enemies, and are now come to the place which we have so long sought for, and have found the furious Boar, whom we have so long enquired after; let us therefore set on him with an assurance of Victory, since we have with us both God and good Fortune. If we had come to Conquer Wales, and had achieved it, our Honour had been great and our profit more; but if we win this battle, England, with all its Dependencies, will be ours. Remember with yourselves, that before us are our Enemies, on each side of us such as we know not how to trust, so that we are environed by our assured Enemies and our doubtful Friends; Therefore lay aside fear, and let us all resolve to make this the end of our Hope and the Reward of our Valour, either in an honourable Death or a triumphant Victory: Remember, that Victory is not gotten by the multitude of Men, but by the courage of Hearts and valiantness of Minds, and therefore the smaller our Number, the more glorious will it be to us if we vanquish, and the more honourable if we die. And this one thing I assure you, that in so just a Quarrel, I resolve this day to be left as a dead Carrion upon the ground, rather than to be a free Prisoner on a Carpet in a Lady's Chamber. Let us therefore fight like invincible giants, set on our Enemies like enraged tigers, banish fear like ramping lions; And let us advance forward like true Loyalists against a company of base Traitors, rightful Inheritors against false Usurpers; And, like the Scourges of God against Tyrants, display my Banner with Courage, march forth like strong and robustious Champions, and begin the battle like hardy and invincible Conquerors: The battle is at hand, and Victory approaching to us; and if we shamefully recoil, or cowardly fly, both we and all that belongs to us will be destroyed and dishonoured for ever. Gain or Loss, Victory or Slavery, is this day offered to your choice; therefore overcome and be Conquerors, or lose the day and be Villains: Let us therefore advance with an undaunted Courage, and set upon that haughty Army before us, with a resolution to Conquer: And God give us Success. Between both Armies there was a great Marsh, which the Earl left on the left-hand, that so it might defend him on that side, and that he might have the Sun on his Back, and in the Face of his Enemy; which when Richard saw, he commanded those in the Front of his Army to set upon them: Whereupon the Trumpets blew, the Soldiers shouted, and the King's Archers courageously let fly their Arrows; Nor did the Earl's Bow-men stand idle, but paid them home again with equal fury: which being once over, the Armies joined, and came to handy-strokes, wherein neither Sword nor Bill were spared. The Earl of Oxford, fearing lest whilst his Company was fighting, they should be enclosed, and circumvented by the multitudes of his Enemies, gave command, that no man should stir above ten Foot from the Standard; whereupon they knit themselves together, and ceased a little from fighting; which being perceived by their adversaries, who knew not the reason of it, they began to fear it was done out of some fraudulent design to entrap them, and therefore forbore fighting also: But the Earl, having thus gotten his Men together, set on his Enemies afresh, who made but a faint resistance. Richard being in the mean time advertised, that Henry was but slenderly guarded with Men at Arms, immediately left his battle, and, like an enraged Lion, with his Spear in Rest, ran towards him, bearing down and overthrowing his Standard, and slaying his Standard-Bearer, Sir William Brandon, Father to Sir Charles Brandon, who was afterwards Duke of Suffolk. Then he overthrew Sir John Cheiny, a Gentleman of great Courage and Strength, who endeavoured to resist him; whereby he made an open passage to the Earl of Richmond, who kept him at the Sword's point, without giving him any advantage longer than was expected either by his Friends or Enemies. At which time the Lord Stanley, observing. Henry's Men began to flag, as tho' they despaired of Victory, he thought it the fittest time to declare whose side he intended to take; and therefore sent three thousand stout Men to the Earl's assistance, under the Command of his Brother, Sir William Stanley, who entred the Fight with such Fury and Courage, that they forced the Usurper's Forces to fly; whereupon some of Richard's Friends, seeing how things went, brought him a swift Horse, and persuaded him to save himself by flight. But he answered, No, I will not fly, for I am resolved this day shall finish all Battels, or else I will finish my Life: And so, closing his Helmet, and thrusting himself forward into the thickest of his Enemies, he died fighting, and left the Victory and his Crown, as the consequence of it, to Earl Henry. There died in this battle, on both sides, about 4000 Men, whereof not above one hundred of them were on the Earl's side, the chief whereof was Sir William Brandon. The Earl, having thus obtained the Victory, kneeled down and returned Thanks to God, begging of him, that he would give him Grace to defend and advance Religion, and maintain Justice and Concord among his Subjects. Then the People rejoiced and clapped their hands, crying out, King Henry, King Henry. And the Lord stanley set King Richard's Crown, which was found among the spoils of the Field, upon his Head; after which they removed to Leicester, whither the Body of the slain Usurper was likewise carried, being thrown across a Horse, behind a Pursuivant at Arms, naked, without so much as any thing to cover his Privy-Members, his Head and Arms hanging on one side of the Horse, and his Legs on the other. From Leicester, Henry marched to London, where he was gladly received, and was, on the 30 of Aug. 1485. crwoned King at Westminster. And, that he might the better secure the Crown to him and his Posterity, he sent the Earl of Warwick, who was Son and Heir to George Duke of Clarence, and the only Heir Male of the House of York, to the Tower. Then he instituted a Guard for his Person, consisting of a Company of choice Archers, whom he called the Yeomen of his Guard. And presently after, a Parliament was called, wherein Richard, and divers of those who were most firm to his Interest, were Attainted, and a free Pardon granted to all such, except those excepted by name, as should presently submit themselves to the King's Mercy: And all former Acts, which were any way prejudicial to the King or his Friends, were likewise repealed, and the Crown established upon the King and his Heirs for ever. And, in the January following, he was married to the Lady Elizabeth, and thereby put a final period to that unhappy and fatal War, between the two Houses of York and Lancaster; but although all pretences of War were now removed, yet there were some, who, under feigned ones, somewhat disquieted those serene days: For, the Lord Lovel, one of Richard's chief Favourites, Sir humphrey Stafford, and some others, assembled Men together against the King, but upon the report of an Armies coming against them, they dispersed themselves, and Stafford fled to Sanctuary, from whence he was taken, and Executed at Tyburn. Which Storm was no sooner over, but the Yorkists raised another, and that they might the better delude the ignorant to take part with them, they procured Lambert Symnel, a Man of a mean and obscure Birth, to Personate one of King Edward's Sons; who being conveyed by them into Ireland, the Irish, who had always affencted the House of York, espoused his Quarrel, as the true Heir of that Family, and, in Christ-Church in Dublin, crwoned him King of England. Upon which, the duchess Dowager of Burgundy, who was Sister to Edward the Fourth, although she knew Lambert to be an Impostor, and not her Brother's Son, yet, out of hatred to the House of Lancaster, sent him two Thousand Soldiers, under the Command of Colonel Swart; with which, and those English and Irish that joined him, he Landed at the Pool of Fowdray in Lancashire, and from thence marched through York-shire towards Newark, every where Proclaiming himself King: But at Stoke, a little Village near Newark, King Henry gave him battle. The Fight continued doubtful for about three hours, but, at length, Victory placed her self under the Royal Banner. On Lambert's part were slain the Earl of Lincoln, the Lord Lovel, Sir Thomas Broughton, Colonel Swart, and Maurice-Fitz Thomas, with about four Thousand Soldiers. On the King's side, fell not any Man of Honour, but almost all his vanguard was cut off, so that he obtained not the Garland without having it first dipped in Blood. Among those who were taken, was the Counterfeit King, and Richard Simon, a Priest, who had been his Tutor when a Scholar in Oxford. Lambert, being thus taken, was examined by the King, and having confessed the whole Contrivance, and acknowledged himself to be but of a mean Parentage, had his Life spared, and was only Condemned to the King's Scullery; but, at length, advanced to be one of his falconers, in which condition he continued till he died: His Tutor was Condemned to perpetual Imprisonment. The duchess of Burgundy, whose hatred to the House of Lancaster would not endure that Henry should enjoy a quiet possession of the English Crown, hearing how ill the late Project had succeeded, provided another Counterfeit King to disturb his peaceful Reign▪ which new Counterfeit, was Peter Warbeck, or, as some call him, Perkin, the Son of a Converted Jew: He was a Youth of a Brave and Princely parsonage, and being sent, by her, to the French King, under the Name and Title of Richard Plantagenet Duke of York, second Son to Edward IV. he had great Honour given him by the King. And divers Persons of Eminence, in England, were so deluded, that they believed him to be the true Richard; and thereupon sought to advance him to the Crown for attempting it, and among the rest, Sir William stanley, Lord Chamberlain. The King likewise, caused the Sea-Coast to be strongly guarded, and sent new Officers into Ireland, who punished those who had given any assistance to the Mock-King, and endeavoured to restrain those who were likely to do so in time to come. But Perkin having obtained private assistance from the French King, and from Maximilian Emperor of Germany, he departed into Scotland, having special recommendations from the French King, and the duchess of Burgundy to the King of Scotland, who gave him Royal entertainment; believing him to be the true Richard. When he was first introduced to the King's presence, he did, with a right Princely Gracefulness, assure him, That Edward the Fourth, King of England, leaving two Sons, Edward and Richard, both very young, their unnatural uncle Richard, to obtain the Crown, resolved on, and accordingly commanded the murder of them both; but the instruments of his Cruelty, having murdered his elder Brother, the young King, were moved with pity to spare his Life: And, that being thus saved by the mercy of God, he was conveyed beyond the Seas, where he lived so privately, that all men supposed him to have been murdered with his Brother. And that therefore, Henry Teuder, Earl of Richmond, having, by base and subtle methods obtained the Crown, endeavoured, by all imaginable means, to procure the final destruction of him the Rightful Heir, falsely affirming him to be a feigned Person, and giving him many idle and ridiculous Nick-names, thereby to abuse the World into a belief of his being a more Impostor. And, that fearing all this might not be sufficient to deprive him of his Right, he had likewise offered large sums of money to corrupt the Princes, by whom he was entertained, and had employed some of his own Servants to murder him; whereby, every Man of reason might easily perceive his pretence to be real, since Henry would have had no need of using those shifts, if he had been only a feigned Person. Adding, that his cause was so evidently Just and True, that it had moved the King of France, and his most dear Aunt, the duchess of Burgundy, to yield him their assistance. And that the Kings of Scotland, being always wont to help and support those who were spoiled and deprived of the Kingdom of England; and that he having given sufficient demonstration that he was of the Noble Quality and Temper, he a poor, distressed and oppressed Prince, had adventured to put himself into his hands, hoping that he would, according to the accustomend Goodness of Himself and Ancestors, Aid and Assist him in the recovering of his Realms, promising, that when he was possessed of his Kingdom, he would do him, all the pleasure that should lie in his utmost Power. The King of Scots was so influenced by this Impostors confident Speech, his comely Person and Princely Port, and deluded by the recommendation of Princes, the Aids he had received from the Irish, and promises of more from the English, that he gave his consent, that this pretended Duke and Heir to the Crown of England, should mary the Lady Katharine Gourdon, Daughter to the Earl of Huntley; which accordingly he did, and also prepared to Invade England in his Quarrel: Although many of his Nobles opposed it, and advised him to repute this pretended Duke only as a Cheat. King Henry, that he might prepare for the Scots, called a Parliament, which granted him a Subsidy of Sixscore Thousand Pound, the Levying whereof kindled a dangerous Fire in England; for when the Collectors came among the Cornish-men, they refused to pay it, and assembled together, after a tumultous manner, under the Leading of Thomas Flammock a Lawyer, and Michael Joseph a Blacksmith, who lead their Rout towards Kent; at Wells the Lord Audley joined with them, from whence they marched to Black-heath, where they were overthrown by the King's Forces, and Audley, Flammock, and the Smith, were all taken: the first whereof was beheaded on Tower-hill, and the other two were quartered, the Smith comforting himself, as he went towards the place of Execution, with the hopes of having, by this means, made his Name everlasting. This Rebellion being thus stilled, Henry sent away the Earl of Surrey with an Army to invade the Scotch Borders, who pursued the revenge with great vehemency: But in a short time a Truce was concluded on between the two Nations, by the Mediation of the King of Spain; one Article whereof was, That Perkin should be no longer fostered in Scotland; who thereupon withdrew into Ireland; from whence the Cornish-men invited him to come over to them, promising to venture their Lives and Fortunes in his Cause; whereupon he landed at Whitesand-Bay in cornwall; and had, upon his arrival, some Thousands of People resorted to him. Which Henry hearing of, smiled; and said, Lo, we are once again provoked by this Prince of Rake-Hells; But, lest my People ignorantly be drawn into destruction, we will endeavour to take this Perkin by the easiest way we can: and thereupon sent away the Earl of Devonshire, who relieved the City of Exeter, which was besieged by him, and driven him from those parts. Whereat the Rebels being discouraged, and hearing withal what other Preparations were making against them, began to drop away from their new King; whereat Perkin was so possessed with fear, that he likewise fled and took Sanctuary at Beaulieu in New foreste. But, upon the King's Promise of Life and Oblivion of his Crimes, he came forth and yielded himself into the King's hands, by whose order he was conveyed to London; where the King, by curious enquiry and often examination of him, learned all the contrivance of the duchess of Burgundy, which he caused to be published. But Perkin soon after, endeavouring to make his escape from those who had the charge of him, after undergoing of some public shane for his attempt, was committed to the Tower; where he endeavoured to corrupt his Keepers, to set himself, and the Earl of Warwick, at liberty; to which design of escaping, the Earl of Warwick was said to have consented. Perkin was tried for his Conspiracy, and, being condemned, was hanged, drawn and quartered, at Tyburn. And Warwick being publicly arraigned, for endeavouring to escape out of the Tower, that so he might raise Rebellion against the King, and deprive him of his Crown and Dignity: All which the Earl was persuaded by some, who pretended themselves his Friends, to confess; for which he lost his Head upon Tower-hill. He was the last Heir-Male of the House of York. And the Spaniards, with whose Daughter Henry desired to match his eldest Son, Arthur, were of the opinion, that there could be no ground of Succession whilst he lived; which was verily thought to be the chief cause of his death. And Queen Catharine, when Henry the Eighth, to whom she was afterwards married, upon the death of Arthur, sued out his Divorce against her, said, It was the Hand of God upon her, because that, to clear the way to the Marriage, the innocent Earl of Warwick was put to an unworthy death. And thus ended that Bloody, Unnatural and Fatal War, which had lasted about 106 Years, being first commenced by Henry Earl of Derby and Duke of Lancaster, in the Year 1398, and received its final period from Henry Earl of Richmond, in the death of the aforesaid Earl of Warwick about the Year 1504. FINIS.