

Goldwin Smith. 


LORD BACON’S WORKS, 


; VOLUME THE THIRD. 


CONTAINING © 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS; Be 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 
THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, , 


ost . 


&c. &c. 


THE WORKS 


OF 


FRANCIS BACON, 


Hord Chancellor of England, 


A NEW EDITION: 


BY 


BASIL MONTAGU, ESQ. 


VOL. ITI. 


LONDON: a 


WILLIAM PICKERING. 
MDCCCXXYV, 


Thomas White, Printer, 
Johnson’s Court. 


aha 


PREFACE. 


Turis Volume contains— 


I. The Wisdom of the Ancients. 


II. Civil History. 


1. History of Henry VII. 
2. History of Henry VIII. 
3. History of Great Britain. 
4. The State of Europe. 


III. Biography. 


VOL, 3. 


1. Queen Elizabeth. 

2. Julius Cesar. 

3. Augustus Cesar. 

4. Henry, Prince of Wales. 


ll PREFACE. 


§ 1. 
THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


The first edition of this work was published in 
Latin in the year 1609. It is entitled— 
FRANCISCI 
Baconr 


EQVITIS AVRATI, 


PROCVRATORIS SE- 


CVNDI, JAcosr Reais 
Macon Britannik& 
DE SAPIENTIA 
VETERVM LIBER, 

AD INCLYTAM ACADEMIAM 
CANTABRIGIENSEM. 


LonDINI 
ExcupEBAT ROBERTUS BAR- 


KERUS SrrenissimMmz REGia2 
Marestatis 'TYPoGRAPHUS 


ANNO 1609. 

In February 27, 1610, Lord Bacon wrote “ To 
Mr. Martuew, upon sending his book ‘ De Sapien- 
tia Veterum.’ 

« Mr. Matthew, 

“ I do very heartily thank you for your letter of 
“the 24th of August from Salamanca; and in 
“yecompence thereof I send you a little work of 
“mine that hath begun to pass the world. They 
“‘ tell me my Latin is turned into silver, and become 
“ current : had you been here, you should have been 
“my inquisitor before it came forth: but, I think, 
“the greatest inquisitor in Spain will allow it. 


PREFACE. ill 


“ But one thing you must pardon me if I make no 
“ haste to believe, that the world should be grown 
“ to such an ecstacy as to reject truth in philosophy, 
** because the author dissenteth in religion ; no more 
“ than they do by Aristotle or Averroes. My great 
“ work goeth forward ; and after my manner, [ alter 
“ever when I add. So that nothing is finished till 
“ all be finished. This I have written in the midst 
“ of a term and parliament; thinking no time so 
“ possessed, but that I should talk of these matters 
“ with so good and dear a friend. And so with my 
“ wonted wishes I leave you to God’s goodness. 
*¢ From Gray’s-Inn, Feb. 27, 1610.” 

And in his letter to Father Fulgentio, giving 
some account of his writings, he says, “ My Essays 
“ will not only be enlarged in number, but still more 
“in substance. Along with them goes the little 
“ piece ‘ De Sapientia Veterum.’ ” 

Bacon’s sentiments with respect to these fables 
may be found in the “ Advancement of Learning,” 
and in the “ De Augmentis,” under the head of 
Poetry. 

In the “ Advancement of Learning” he says, 
“ There remaineth yet another use of poesy parabo- 
“ical, opposite to that which we last mentioned : 
“ for that tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that 
“ which is taught or delivered, and this other to retire 
“and obscure it: that is, when the secrets and mys- 
“teries of religion, policy, or philosophy, are in- 
“volved in fables or parables. Of this in divine 
“ poesy we see the use is authorized. In heathen 


iV PREFACE. 


“ poesy we see the exposition of fables doth fall out 
“‘ sometimes with great felicity ; as in the fable that 
“ the giants being overthrown in their war against 
“the gods, the Earth their Hes in revenge 
“ thereof brought forth Fame : 

‘¢ Tllam Terra parens, ira irritata deorum, 

“ Extremam, ut perhibent, Coco Enceladoque sororem 

“« Progenuit.” 
“ expounded, that when princes and monarchs have 
“ suppressed actual and open rebels, then the malig- 
“ nity of the people, which is the mother of rebellion, 
“ doth bring forth libels and slanders, and taxations 
“ of the state, which is of the same kind with rebel- 
“ lion, but more feminine. So in the fable, that the 
“ rest of the gods having conspired to bind Jupiter, 
« Pallas called Briareus with his hundred hands to 
“his aid, expounded, that monarchies need not fear 
“any curbing of their absoluteness by mighty sub- 
“jects, as long as by wisdom they keep the hearts 
“‘ of the people, who will be sure to come in on their 
“side. Soin the fable, that Achilles was brought 
“up under Chiron the Centaur, who was part a 
“ man and part a beast, expounded ingeniously, but 
“corruptly by Machiavel, that it belongeth to the 
“education and discipline of princes to know as 
“‘ well how to play the part of the lion in violence, 
“ and the fox in guile, as of the man in virtue and 
«justice. Nevertheless, in many the like encoun- 
« ters, I do rather think that the fable was first, and 
“‘ the exposition then devised, than that the moral 
‘‘ was first, and thereupon the fable framed. For I 


PREFACE. Vv 


“ find it was an ancient vanity in Chrysippus, that 
“ troubled himself with great contention to fasten 
“ the assertions of the Stoics upon the fictions of the 
“ ancient poets; but yet that all the fables and fic- 
“ tions of the poets were but pleasure and not figure, 
“T interpose no opinion. Surely of those poets 
“ which are now extant, even Homer himself, (not- 
“ withstanding he was made a kind of Scripture by 
“ the latter schools of the Grecians,) yet I should 
“ without any difficulty pronounce that his fables 
“ had no such inwardness in his own meaning; but 
“ what they might have upon a more original tradi- 
“ tion, is not easy to affirm; for he was not the 
* inventor of many of them.” 

In the treatise “ De Augmentis,” the same 
sentiments will be found with a slight alteration in 
the expressions. He says, “ there is another use of 
“ parabolical poesy, opposite to the former, which 
“tendeth to the folding up of those things, the 
“ dignity whereof, deserves to be retired and dis- 
** tinguished, as with a drawn curtain: that is, when 
“ the secrets and mysteries of religion, policy, and 
“philosophy are veiled and invested with fables, 
“ and parables. But whether there be any mystical 
“sense couched under the ancient fables of the 
“ poets, may admit some doubt: and indeed for our 
“ part we incline to this opinion, as to think, that 
“ there was an infused mystery in many of the an- 
“ cient fables of the poets. Neither doth it move 
“ us that these matters are left commonly to school- 
“ boys, and grammarians, and so are embased, that 


vi PREFACE. 


“we should therefore make a slight judgment, 
“upon them: but contrariwise because it is clear, 
“ that the writings which recite those fables, of all 
“ the writings of men, next to sacred writ, are the 
“ most ancient; and that the fables themselves are 
“ far more ancient than they (being they are alleged 
“‘ by those writers, not as excogitated by them, but 
“as credited and recepted before) seem to be, 
“ like a thin rarified air, which from the traditions 
‘“‘ of more ancient nations, fell into the flutes of the 
“ Grecians.” 

This tract seems, in former times, to have been 
much valued, for the same reason, perhaps, which 
Bacon assigns * for the currency of the Essays ; “ be- 
cause they are like the late new half-pence, which, 
though the silver is good, yet the pieces are small.” 
Of this tract, Archbishop Tenison in his Baconiana, 
says, “ In the seventh place, I may reckon his book 
“ De Sapientia Veterum, written by him in Latin, 
“ and set fortha second time with enlargement;} and 
“ translated into English by Sir Arthur Georges: a 
“book in which the sages of former times are ren- 
“ dered more wise than it may be they were, by so 
“ dextrous an interpreter of their fables. It is this 
“ book which Mr. Sandys means, in those words which 
“he hath put before his notes, on the Metamor- 
*‘phosis of Ovid. ‘Of modern writers, I have 


* See page vii of preface to Vol. I. 
+ In the year 1617, in Latin. It was published in Italian 
in 1618—in French in 1619. 


PREFACE. Vil 


“received the greatest light from Geraldus, Pontanus, 
“ Ficinus, Vives, Comes, Scaliger, Sabinus, Pierius, 
* and the crown of the latter, the Viscount of St. 
“ Albans.’ 

“Tt is true, the design of this book was instruc- 
“ tion in natural and civil matters, either couched 
“by the ancients under those fictions, or rather 
“ made to seem to be so by his lordship’s wit, in the 
“ opening and applying of them. But because the 
“ first ground of it is poetical story, therefore let it 
“ have this place, till a fitter be found for it.” 

The author of Bacon’s Life,in the Biographia Bri- 
tannica, says, “ that he might relieve himself a little 
“ from the severity of these studies, and as it were 

-“ amuse himself with erecting a magnificent pavi- 
_ “lion, while his great palace of philosophy was 
“building, he composed and sent abroad in 1610, 
“his celebrated treatise Of the Wisdom of the An- 
** cients, in which he shewed that none had studied 
“them more closely, was better acquainted with 
“their beauties, or had pierced deeper into their 
“meaning. There have been very few books pub- 
“ lished, either in this or in any other nation, which 
“ either deserved or met with more general applause 
“ than this, and scarce any that are like to retain it 
“ longer, for in this performance, Sir Francis Bacon 
“ gave a singular proof of his capacity to please all 
“ parties in literature, as in his political conduct he 
“ stood fair with all the parties in the nation. The 
“ admirers of antiquity were charmed with this dis- 
“course, which seems expressly calculated to justify 


Vill PREFACE. 


“ their admiration; and, on the other hand, their 
“ opposites were no less pleased with a piece, from 
“ which they thought they could demonstrate, that 
“ the sagacity of a modern genius, had found out 
“ much better meanings for the ancients, than ever 
“‘ were meant by them.” 

And Mallet, in his Life of Bacon, says, “ In 
“1610 he published another treatise, entitled 
“ Of the Wisdom of the Ancients. This work 
“bears the same stamp of an original and in- 
“ventive genius with his other performances. 
“ Resolving not to tread in the steps of those who 
“ had gone before him, men, according to his own 
“expression, not learned beyond certain common 
“ places, he strikes out a new tract for himself, and 
“enters into the most secret recesses of this wild 
*‘ and shadowy region, so as to appear new on a 
“ known and beaten subject. Upon the whole, if 
“ we cannot bring ourselves readily to believe that 
“ there is all the physical, moral, and political mean- 
“ing veiled under those fables of antiquity, which 
“he has discovered in them, we must own that it 
“ required no common penetration. to be mistaken 
“ with so great an appearance of probability on his 
“side. Though it still remains doubtful whether 
“the ancients were so knowing as he attempts to 
« shew they were, the variety and depth of his own 
“ knowledge are, in that very attempt, unquestion- 
“ able.” 

In the year 1619, this tract was translated by 
Sir Arthur Georges. Prefixed to the work are two 


PREFACE. ix 


letters; the one to the Earl of Salisbury, the other 
to the University of Cambridge, which Georges 
omits, and dedicates his translation to the High 
and Illustrious Princess the Lady Elizabeth of Great 
Britain, Duchess of Baviare, Countess Palatine of 
Rheine, and Chief Electress of the Empire. As this 
translation was published during the life of Lord 
Bacon, by a great admirer of his works, and as it 
is noticed by Archbishop Tenison, I have inserted it 
inthis volume. I am not certain that I have done 
right, as it is my intention, with the translation of 


all the works, to publish a new translation of these 


fables; for which I am indebted to a member of the 
University of Oxford, ‘who has lately so emi- 
nently distinguished himself for his classical attain- 
ments, and who will I trust forgive this expression of 
my affectionate respect for his virtuous exertions. It 
would be grateful to me to say more. 


§ 2. 
CIVIL HISTORY. 


At an early period of his life, Bacon was im- 
pressed with the importance of a History of England 
from the union of the Roses to the union of the 
Kingdoms. In the Advancement of Learning, pub- 
lished in 1605, he says, “ But for modern histories,* 
“ whereof there are some few very worthy, but the 
“ greatest part beneath mediocrity, leaving the care 
“ of foreign stories to foreign states, because I will 
“‘ not be * curiosus in aliena republica,’ I cannot fail 


* See vol II. page 110. 


X PREFACE. 


“ to represent to your majesty, the unworthiness of 
“ the history of England in the main continuance 
“ thereof, and the partiality and obliquity of that of 
“ Scotland, in the latest and largest author that I 
“have seen; supposing that it would be honour for 
“ your majesty, and a work very memorable, if this 
“island of Great Brittany, as it is now joined in 
“ monarchy for the ages to come: so were joined in 
“ one history for the times passed, after the manner 
“ of the sacred history, which draweth down the 
“ story of the ten tribes, and of the two tribes, as 
“twins together. And if it shall seem that the 
“ greatness of this work may make it less exactly per- 
“ formed, there is an excellent period of a much 
‘“‘ smaller compass of time, as to the story of Eng- 
“ land, that is to say, from the uniting of the roses, 
“ to the uniting of the kingdoms; a portion of time 
“ wherein, to my understanding, there hath been 
“ the rarest varieties that in like number of succes- 
“ sions of any hereditary monarchy hath been known: 
“ for it beginneth with the mixed adoption of a crown 
“by arms and title; an entry by battle, an esta- 
“ blishment by marriage: and therefore times an- 
“ swerable, like waters after a tempest, full of work- 
“ing and swelling, though without extremity of 
“ storm; but well passed through by the wisdom of 
“ the pilot, being one of the most sufficient kings of 
of all the number.. Then followeth the reign of a 
“king, whose actions, howsoever conducted, had 
“ much intermixture with the affairs of Europe, ba- 
“lancing and inclining them variably; in whose 
“ time also began that great alteration in the state 


PREFACE. xl 


“ecclesiastical, an action which seldom cometh upon 
“the stage. Then the reign of a minor: then an 
“ offer of an usurpation, though it was but as ‘ febris 
‘“ephemera:’ then the reign of a queen matched 
“ with a foreigner : then of a queen that lived solitary 
“ and unmarried, and yet her government so mascu- 
“line that it had greater impression and operation 
“ upon the states abroad than it any ways received 
“from thence. And now last, this most happy and 
“ glorious event, that this island of Britain, divided 
“ from all the world, should be thus united in itself : 
‘** and that oracle of rest, given to Aineas. ‘ Anti- 
“ quam exquirite matrem, should now beperformed 
“and fulfilled upon the nations of England and 
“ Scotland, being now reunited in the ancient mother 
“name of Britain, as a full period of all instability 
“and peregrinations: so that as it cometh to pass 
“in massive bodies, that they have certain trepida- 
“tions and waverings before they fix and settle; so 
“ it seemeth that by the providence of God this mo- 
“ narchy, before it was to settle in your majesty and 
“ your generations, (in which, I hope, it is now esta- - 
“ blished for ever,) had these preclusive changes and 
“ varieties.” 

And the same passage is repeated in the treatise 
“ De Augmentis,” which was published in the year 


1623, with the omission of the praise of the reign 
of Elizabeth. 


HISTORY OF HENRY VII. 


The history of Henry VII. was written in Eng- 
lish, and was the first book which he composed after 


Xll PREFACE. 


his retirement from active life.* In a letter to the 
king, dated 20th of March, 1621, he says, 
“ To the King’s most excellent Majesty. 
« May it please your Majesty, 

“ T acknowledge myself in all humbleness infi- 
“ nitely bounden to your majesty’s grace and good- 
“ ness, for that, at the intercession of my noble and 
“ constant friend, my lord marquis, your majesty 
“hath been pleased to grant me that which the 
“ civilians say is ‘ res inestimabilis, my liberty. So 
“that now, whenever God calleth me, I shall not 
“ die a prisoner. Nay, farther, your majesty hath 
‘“‘ vouchsafed to cast a second and iterate aspect of 
“ your eye of compassion upon me, in referring the 
“ consideration of my broken estate to my good lord 
“‘ the treasurer ; which as it is a singular bounty in 
“ your majesty, so I have yet so much left of a late 
“ commissioner of your treasure, as I would be sorry 
“to sue for any thing that might seem immodest. 
“These your majesty’s great benefits, in casting 


“« * His historical works are these:—the first is the history 
‘“‘ of Henry the Seventh, written elegantly, by his lordship in the 
‘«‘ English tongue, and addressed‘to his Highness the Prince of 
“© Wales; and turned afterwards into Latin. An history which 
‘« required such a reporter: those times being times both of 
‘‘ great revolution, and settlement, through the division and 
‘¢ union of the roses, 

“‘ This was the first book which he composed after his re- 
‘¢ tirement from an active life. Upon which ‘occasion he wrote 
“‘ thus to the Bishop of Winchester. Being (as I am) no more 
‘< able to do my country service, it remaineth unto me, to do it 
“ honour: which J have endeavoured to do in my work of the 
“ reign of King Henry the Seventh.”—Baconiana. 


PREFACE. © Xlil 


“your bread upon the waters, as the Scripture 
*« saith, because my thanks cannot any ways be suf- 
“ ficient to attain, I have raised your progenitor, of 
“ famous memory (and now, I hope, of more famous 
“memory than before) King Henry VII. to give 
“your majesty thanks for me; which work, most 
“ humbly kissing your majesty’s hands, I do present. 
“And because in the beginning of my trouble, 
“ when in the midst of the tempest I had a kenning 
“of the harbour, which [ hope now by your 
“majesty’s favour I am entering into, I made a 
“ tender to your majesty of two works, ‘ An History 
“of England, and ‘A digest of your laws;’ as I 
“have, by a figure of pars pro toto, performed the 
“one, so I have herewith sent your majesty, by way 
“of an epistle, a new offer of the other. But my 
“* desire is farther, if it stand with your majesty’s 
“ good pleasure, since now my study is my exchange, 
“and my pen my factor, for the use of my talent ; 
“that your majesty, who is a great master in these 
“ things, would be pleased to appoint me some task 
“‘ to write, and that I shall take for an oracle. And 
“ because my “ Instauration,” which I esteem my 
“ great work, and do still go on with silence, was 
“dedicated to your majesty ; and this ‘ History of 
“King Henry VII. to your lively and excellent 
“image the prince; if now your majesty will be 
“ pleased to give me a theme to dedicate to my Lord 
“of Buckingham, whom I have so much reason to 
“ honour, I should with more alacrity embrace your 
“majesty’s direction than my own choice. Your 
“ majesty will pardon me for troubling you thus 


XIV "PREFACE. 


“Jong. God evermore preserve and prosper you. 
« Your majesty’s poor beadsman most devoted, 


“ Fr. St. ALBAN. 
‘“* Gorhambury, 20 Mar. 1621.” 


“To the Right Honourable his very good Lord, 

“the Lord Marquiss of Buckingham, High- 

« Admiral of England. 

« My very good Lord, 

‘‘' These main and real favours which I have 
“lately received from your good lordship, in pro- 
“curing my liberty, and a reference of the consi- 
“ deration of my release, are such, as I now find 
“ that in building upon your lordship’s noble nature 
“and friendship, I have bullt upon the rock, where 
“ neither winds nor waves can cause overthrow. I 
“humbly pray your lordship to accept from me 
“ such thanks as ought to come from him whom you 
“have much comforted in fortune, and much more 
“ comforted in shewing your love and affection to 
“ him; of which also I have heard by my Lord Falk- 
“ land, Sir Edward Sackville, Mr. Matthews, and 
“ otherways. 

“ T have written, as my duty was, to his majesty 
“thanks touching the same, by the letter here put 
“into your noble hands. 

“ T have made also, in that letter, an offer to his 
“ majesty of my service, for bringing into better 
“ order and frame the laws of England: the decla- 
“ yation whereof I have left with Sir Edward Sack- 
“ ville, because it were no good manners to clog his 
‘“‘ majesty, at this time of triumph and recreation, 
‘‘ with a business of this nature ; so as your lordship 


PREFACE. XV 


“ may be pleased to call for it to Sir Edward Sack- 
“ ville when you think the time seasonable. 

“ [am bold likewise to present your lordship 
“‘ with a book of my ‘ History of King Henry the 
“ Seventh.’ And now that, in summer was twelve 
*‘ months, I dedicated a book to his majesty ; and 
“this last summer, this book to the prince; your 
“lordship’s turn is next, and this summer that 
“cometh (if I live to it) shall be yours. I have 
“ desired his majesty to appoint me the task, other- 
“ wise I shall use my own choice; for this is the 
“best retribution I can make to your lordship. 
“ God prosper you. I rest 

“ Your lordship’s most obliged friend 
“ and faithful servant, 
‘Fr. St. ALBAN. 
‘“‘ Gorhambury, this 20th of March, 1621.” 

On September 5, 1621, Bacon in a letter to the 
Marquiss of Buckingham, says, “ I am much fallen 
“in love with a private life ; but yet I shall so spend 
“ my time, as shall not decay my abilities for use.” 

On the 8th of October, 1621, he wrote the fol. 
lowing letter to the king. 

“It may please your most excellent majesty,— 
“ T'do very humbly thank your majesty for your 
“ gracious remission of my fine. I can now, I thank 
“ God and you, die, and make a will. 

“ T desire to do, for the little time God shall 
“ send me life, like the merchants of London, which, 
“when they give over trade, lay out their money 
“upon land. So, being freed from civil business, I 
“lay forth my poor talent upon those things, which 


xvi PREFACE. 


“ may be perpetual, still having relation to do you 
« honour with those powers I have left. 

« | have therefore chosen to write the reign of 
“ King Henry the Seventh, who was in a sort your 
« forerunner, and whose spirit, as well as his blood 
«ig doubled upon your majesty. 

«“ [ durst not have presumed to intreat your 
« majesty to look over the book, and correct it, or at 
“least to signify what you would have amended. 
« But since you are pleased to send for the book, I 
« will hope for it. 

“ God knoweth, whether ever I shall see you 
“again; but I will pray for you to the last gasp, 
“ resting * the same, your true beadsman, 


“o Br. St. ALBAN,” 
“ October 8, 1621.” 


During the progress of the work, considerable 
expectation was excited respecting the history. 
Rawley in his life of Bacon, says, “ His fame is 
« greater, and sounds louder, in foreign parts abroad, 
« than at home, in his own nation. Thereby verify- 
“ ing that divine sentence ; a prophet is not without 
« honour, save in his own country, and in his own 
“ house. Concerning which, I will give you a taste 
« only, out of a letter written from Italy, (the store- 
“ house of refined wits,) to the late Earl of Devon- 
«¢ shire ; then the Lord Cavendish. I will expect the 
« new Essays of my Lord Chancellor Bacon, as also 
« his history, with a great deal of desire ; and what- 
« soever else, he shall compose. But in particular, of 
« his history, I promise myself, a thing perfect, and 


* Note. This passage has a line drawn over it. 


PREFACE. XVI 


“ singular ; especially in Henry the Seventh, where 
“he may exercise the talent of his divine under- 
“ standing.” 

After the completion of the work, there seems 
to have been a demur with respect to its publication, 
in a letter from Sir Thomas Meautys,* he says, 
“May it please your lordship, I have been. at- 
“tending upon my lord marquiss’ minutes for the 
“ signing of the warrant.” 

The letter then continues, and, in the conclusion, 
says, “ Your books are ready, and passing well 
“bound up. If your lordship’s letters to the king, 
“ prince, and my lord marquiss were ready, I think 
“ it were good to lose no time in their delivery ; for 
“ the printer’s fingers itch to be selling.” 

It seems by the following letter, that there was 
another letter from Sir Thomas Meautys complain- 
ing of this demur. 

~“ Good Mr. Meautys, for the difference of the 
“ warrant, it is not material at the first. But I may 
“not stir till I have it; and therefore I expect it 
“ to-morrow. 

“ For my Lord of London’s stay, there may be 
“an error in my book; but I am sure there is none 
“in me, since the king had it three months by him, 
“‘and allowed it: if there be any thing to be 
“ mended, it is better to be espied now than here- 
“ after. 

“TI send you the copies of the three letters, 
“which you have, and, in mine own opinion, this 


* Birch, 310. 
VOL. 3, Cc 


XV1ll PREFACE. 


« demur, as you term it, in my Lord of London,* 
“ maketh it more necessary than before, that they 
“ were delivered, specially in regard they contain 
« withal my thanks. It may be signified they were 
“ sent before I knew of any stay; and being but in 
“ those three hands, they are private enough. But 
“ this I leave merely at your discretion, resting you 
“‘ most affectionate and assured friend, 


“« Fr. St. ALBAN.” 
“March 21, 1621”, 


It was published in folio, in the year 1622. The 
following is a copy of the title page. 


The 
Historie 
Of the Raigne 
Of King 
Henry 
The Seventh 
Written 
By the Right Honourable 
_ Francis 
Lord Verulam, Viscount 
St. Alban. 


London, 
Printed by W. Stransby for Matthew 
Lownes, and William 
Barret. 


1622. 


* Dr. George Mountain. 


PREFACE. Xix 


He sent copies of the history, to the Queen of 
Bohemia, and to the Bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Williams, 
his successor. 

“ To the Queen of Bohemia. 
“ It may please your Majesty, 

‘| find in books, and books I dare alledge to 
“your majesty in regard of your singular ability to 
“read and judge of them even above your sex, that 
“it is accounted a great bliss for a man to have 
“ leisure with honour. That was never my fortune, 
“nor is. For time was, I had honour without 
“Jeisure; and now I have leisure without honour. 
“ And I cannot say so neither altogether, consider- 
“ing there remain with me the marks and stamp 
“of the king’s, your father’s, grace, though I 

“go not for so much in value as I have dane. 
© But my desire is now to have leisure without 
“ Joitering, and not to become an abbey-lubber, 
“as the old proverb was, but to yield some fruit 
“of my private life. Having therefore written 
“ the reign of your majesty’s famous ancestor, King 
“ Henry the Seventh, and it having passed the file 
“of his Majesty’s judgment, and been graciously 
“ also accepted of the prince, your brother, to whom 
“it is dedicated, I could not forget my duty so far 
“to your excellent majesty, to whom, for that I 
‘“‘ know and have heard, I have been at all times so 
“much bound, as you are ever present with me, 
“ both in affection and admiration, as not to make 
“unto you, in all humbleness, a present thereof, as 
“ now being not able to give you tribute of any ser- 
“vice. If King Henry the Seventh were alive again, 


XX PREFACE. 


“ LT hope verily he could not be so angry with me 
“for not flattering him, as well pleased in seeing 
“ himself so truly described in colours, that will last 
“and be believed, I most humbly pray your 
“majesty graciously to accept of my good-will; 
“and so, with all reverence, kiss your hands, pray- 
“ing to God above, by his divine and most benign 
“ providence, to conduct your affairs to happy issue ; 
“ and resting 

“ Your majesty’s most humble and devoted servant, 


« Fr, St. ALBAN.” 
“ April 20, 1622.” : 


“ To the Lord Viscount St. Alban. 
“ My very good Lord, 

“ T have received, by this bearer, the privy seal 
“ for the survey of coals, which I will lay aside until 
‘T shall hear further from my lord steward, and 
“ the rest of the lords. 

“Tam ready to do as much as your lordship 
« desireth, in keeping Mr. Cotton off from the vio- 
“lence of those creditors: only himself is, as yet, 
‘‘ wanting in some particular directions. 

« | heartily thank your lordship for your book; 
“and all other symbols of your love and affection, 
« which I will endeavour, upon all opportunities, to 
‘¢ deserve : and, in the mean time, do rest 

« Your lordship’s assured faithful 
“ poor friend and servant, 


*° 10. IGINCOLN, C29... 
Westminster College, this ath of February, 1622. 
To the Right Honourable his very good Lord, 
the Lord Viscount St. Alban. 


PREFACE. Xxl 


In a letter, written in the year 1622, to the 
Bishop of Winchester, and prefixed, in the nature 
of a dedication, to his dialogue touching a holy 
war, he says, “ having in the work of my < Instaura- 
“ tion’ had in contemplation the general good of 
‘men in their very being, and the dowries of na- 
“ture; and in my work of laws, the general good 
“of men likewise in society, and the dowries of 
“ government ; I thought in duty I owed somewhat 
“unto my own country, which I ever loved; inso- 
“much as although my place hath been far above 
“my desert, yet my thoughts and cares concerning 
“the good thereof were beyond, and over, and 
“‘ above my place: so now being, as I am, no more 
“able to do my country service, it remained unto 
“me to do it honour: which I have endeavoured to 
“do in my work of the reign of King Henry the 
“ Seventh.” | 

Soon after the publication, he expresses his 
anxiety that the history should be translated into 
Latin. In a letter to Mr. Tobie Matthew, he says, 
“ It is true, my labours are now most set to have 
“ those works, which I had formerly published, as 
“ that of Advancement of Learning, that of Henry 
“ the Seventh, that of the Essays, being retractate, 
‘and made more perfect, well translated into Latin 
“ by the help of some good pens, which forsake me 
“not. For these modern languages will, at one 
“ time or other, play the bankrupts with books : and 
“ since I have lost much time with this age, I would 


> 


XXil PREFACE. 


“be glad, as God shall give me leave, to recover it 
“ with posterity.” 

In the year 1627, this history was published in 
French.* In 1629, there was a new edition in 
English. In 1638, an edition in Latin was pub- 
lished by Dr. Rawley; and the press has since 
abounded with editions.+ 

Such was the progress of the history of Henry the 
Seventh. 

In the composition, Lord Bacon seems to have 
laboured with some anxiety. 

Aubrey, in his Anecdotes, says, “ about his time, 
“ and within his view, were borne all the wits that 
“ could honour a nation or help study. He came 
“ often to St. John Danvers at Chelsey. Sir John 
“told me that when his lordship had wrote the 
« history of Henry the Seventh, he sent the manu- 
“script copy to him to desire his opinion of it 
“‘ before twas printed. Qd Sir John, your lordship 
“ knows that Iam no scholar. ’Tis no matter, said 
«my lord, I know what a scholar can say ; I would 
“ know what you can say. Sir John read it, and 
“ gave his opinion what he misliked (which I am 


* 8yvo. Paris, Par Holman, of which there is a copy in the 
British Museum. 

+ In 1641, and in 1647, and in 1662; and in the British 
Museum there is a MS. (Sloan’s collection, 84,) entitled Notes, 
taken out of his history of the reign of Henry Seventh : and 
another MS. Harleian, vol. 2, of Catalogue 300, entitled Notes 
of Henry Seventh’s reign, set down in MS. by the Lord Chan- 
cellor Bacon. 


PREFACE. XX 


“ sorry I have forgot) which my lord acknowledged 
“ to be true, and mended it. ‘ Why, said he, ‘a 
“ scholar would never have told me this.’” 
And it appears by a letter from his faithful friend, 
Sir Thomas Meautys, that the king did correct the 
manuscript. The letter is dated January 7, 1623, 
and directed ‘* To the Lord Viscount St. Alban.” 
It contains the following passage. 

“ Mr. Murray tells me, the king hath given your 
“ book to my Lord Brooke, and injoined him to read 
“it, recommending it much to him: and then my 
“ Lord Brooke is to return it to your lordship; and 
“so it may go to the press, when your lordship 
“ pleases, with such amendments, as the king hath 
“ made, which I have seen, and are very few, and 
“ those rather words, as epidemic, and mild instead 
“ of debonnaire, &c. Only that of persons attainted, 
“ enabled to serve in parliament by a bare reversal 
“ of their attainder, the king by all means will have 
“left out. I met with my Lord Brooke, and told 
“ him that Mr. Murray had directed me to wait upon 
“ him for the book, when he had done with it. He 
“ desired to be spared this week, as being to him a 
“ week of much business; and the next week I 
“should have it: and he ended in a compliment, 
“ that care should be taken, by all means, for good 
“ ink and paper to print it in; for that the book de- 
“serveth it. I beg leave to kiss your lordship’s 
“ hands.” 

But notwithstanding this labour and anxiety, 
the work is perhaps an illustration of Archbishop 

+ 


XXIV PREFACE. 


Tenison’s observation upon Dr. Playfer’s attempt 
to translate the “ Advancement of Learning.” 

«“ Men generally come short of themselves when 
“they strive to outdo themselves. They put a 
“ force upon their natural genius, and, by straining 
* of it, crack and disable it.” 

If however in the history of Henry the Seventh, 
it is vain to look for the vigour or beauty with 
which the Advancement of Learning abounds: if 
there is not such nervous language as “ the honest 
“and just bounds of observation by one person 
“upon another, extend no farther but to under- 
« stand him sufficiently whereby not to give him 
“ offence, or whereby to be able to give him faithful 
“counsel, or whereby to stand upon reasonable 
« guard and caution in respect of a man’s self: but 
“ to be speculative into another man, to the end to 
“ know how to work him, or wind him, or govern 
«him, proceedeth from a heart that is double and 
«« cloven, and not entire and ingenuous.” 

If there is not such beauty as “ men haveentered 
“into a desire of learning and knowledge, some- 
“times upon a natural curiosity, and inquisitive 
“ appetite; sometimes to entertain their minds with 
“ variety and delight ; sometimes for ornament and 
“reputation; and sometimes enable them to 
“ victory of wit and contradiction; and most times 
“ for lucre and profession; and seldom sincerely to 
“ give a true account of their gift of reason, to the 
“ benefit and use of men: as if there were sought 
« in knowledge a couch, whereupon to rest a search- 


PREFACE. XXV 


“ing and. restless spirit; or a tarrasse for a 
“ wandering and variable mind to walk up and 
“ down with a fair prospect ; or a tower of state, for 
‘a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or 
“ commanding ground, for strife and contention ; or 
“ a shop, for profit or sale ; and not a rich storehouse, 
“ for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of man’s 
“ estate.” 

If the intricacies of a court are neither disco- 
vered nor illustrated with the same happiness as 
the intricacies of philosophy, “ because the distribu- 
*‘tions and partitions of knowledge are not like 
“ several lines that meet in one angle, and so touch 
“but in a point; but are like branches of a tree, 
“ that meet in a stem, which hath a dimension and 
“ quantity of entireness and continuance, before it 
“come to discontinue and break itself into arms 
“and boughs; therefore it is good, before we enter 
“into the former distribution, to erect and consti- 
“‘ tute one universal science, by the name of ‘ Phi- 
“ Josophia Prima,’ primitive or summary philosophy, 
“as the main and common way, before we come 
“ where the ways part and divide themselves.” 

““« That it be a receptacle for all such profita- 
“ble observations and axioms a fall not within the 
““ compass of any of the special parts of philosophy 
“or sciences, but are more common and of a higher 
“stage.” Isnotthe precept of a musician, to fall from 
“a discord or harsh accord upon a concord or sweet 
“ accord, alike true in affection! Is not the trope of 


XXVI PREFACE. 


“‘ music, to avoid or slide from the close or cadence, 
“common with the trope of rhetoric of deceiving 
‘expectation? Is not the delight of the quavering 
upon a stop in music the same with the playing of 
“ light upon the water.” . 

If in a work written when the author was 
more than sixty years of age, and if, after 
the vexations and labours of a professional and 
political life, the varieties and sprightliness of youth- 
ful imagination, are not to be found, yet the pecu- 
liar properties of his mind may easily be traced, and 
the stateliness of the edifice be discovered from the 
magnificence of the ruins. His vigilance in record- 
ing every fact tending to alleviate misery, or to 
promote happiness, is noticed by Bishop Sprat in his 
history of the Royal Society, where he says “ I shall 
“ instance in the sweating-sickness. The medicine 
“ for it was almost infallible: but, before that could 
“be generally published, it had almost dispeopled 
“ whole towns. If the same disease should have re- 
“turned, it might have been again as destructive, 
“ had not the Lord Bacon taken care, to set down 
“ the particular course of physic for it, in his history 
“of Henry the Seventh, and so put it beyond the 
“ possibility of any private man’s invading it.” 

And his account of the same calamity * contains an 
allusion to his favourite doctrine of vital spirit, of 
which the philosophy is explained in his history of 
Life and Death, and illustrated in his fable of Pro- 


* Page 114 of this volume. 


PREFACE. © XXVii 


serpine in the Wisdom of the Ancients*, and which 
is thus stated in his Sylva Sylvarum : 

“The knowledge of man, hitherto, hath been 
“ determined by the view, or sight; so that whatso- 
“ ever is invisible, either in respect of the fineness of 
‘the body itself; or the smallness of the parts; or 
“ of the subtilty of the motion, is little inquired. 
« And yet these be the things that govern nature 
principally ; and without which, you cannot make 
“ any true analysis and indication of the proceedings 
“of nature. The spirits or pneumaticals, that are in 
* all tangible bodies, are scarce known. Sometimes 
“they take them for vacuum; whereas they are 
“the most active of bodies. Sometimes they take 
«“ them for air; from which they differ exceedingly, 
“as much as wine from water; and as wood from 
“earth. Sometimes they will have them to be 
“ natural heat, or a portion of the element of fire ; 
‘‘ whereas some of them are crude, and cold. And 
“ sometimes they will have them to be the virtues 
“ and qualities of the tangible parts, which they see ; 
“ whereas they are things by themselves. And then, 
“ when they come to plants, and living creatures, 
“ they call them souls. And such superficial specu- 
“Jations they have; like prospectives, that shew 
“things inward, when they are but paintings. 
“ Neither is this a question of words, but infinitely 
“material in nature. For spirits are nothing else 


* Page 90 of this volume. See note A at the end of this 
volume. 


XXVIll PREFACE. 


“ but a natural body, rarified to a proportion, and 
“ included in the tangible parts of bodies, as in an 
“integument. And they be no less differing one 
‘“‘ from the other, than the dense or tangible parts : 
“and they are in all tangible bodies whatsoever, 
“ more or less; and they are never (almost) at rest: 
“and from them, and their motions, principally 
“ proceed arefaction, colliquation, concoction, matu- 
‘ration, putrefaction, vivification, and most of the 
“ effects of nature.” 

One of his maxims of government for the enlarge- 
ment of the bounds of empire is to be found in his 
comment upon the ordinance. * “ That all houses of 
“ husbandry, that were used with twenty acres of 
~ “ground and upwards, should be maintained and 
“kept up for ever; together with a competent pro- 
“portion of land to be used and occupied with 
“them ;” and which is thus stated in the treatise 
‘‘ De Augmentis” which was published in the year 
1623. “Let states and kingdoms that aim at great- 
“ ness by all means take heed how the nobility, and 
“orandees, and that those which we call gentlemen, 
“multiply too fast; for that makes the common 
““ subject grow to be a peasant and base swain driven 
“out of heart, and in effect nothing else but the 
“noble man’s bond-slaves and labourers. Even as 
“ you may see in coppice-wood, if you leave your 
“ studdles too thick, you shall never have clean un- 
“ derwood, but shrubs and bushes : so in a country, 


* See page 235. 


PREFACE. XxI1x 


“if the nobility be too many, the commons will be 
“ base and heartless, and you will bring it to that, 
“that not the hundredth pole will be fit for an 
“helmet ; especially as to the infantry, which is the 
“nerve of an army; and so there will be great po- 
“ pulation and little strength. This which I speak 
“ of hath been in no nation more clearly confirmed 
“than in the ‘examples of England and France, 
“whereof England, though far inferior in territory 
“and population, hath been nevertheless always an 
“ overmatch in arms; in regard the middle-people 
“ of England make good soldiers, which the peasants 
“ of France do not. And herein the device of Henry 
“the Seventh King of England (whereof I have 
“ spoken largely in the history of his life) was pro- 
“ found and admirable, in making farms and houses 
“of husbandry of a standard; that is maintained 
“ with such a proportion of land unto them, as may 
“breed a subject to live in convenient plenty, and 
“ to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, or 
“ at least usu-fructuary, and not hirelings and mer- 
“ cenaries ; and thus a country shall merit that cha- 
** racter whereby Virgil expresses ancient Italy, 

“ Terra potens Armis, atque ubere Gleba.” 

His love of familar illustration is to be found in 
various parts of the history ; speaking of the commo- 
tion by the Cornish men in behalf of the impostor 
Perkin Warbeck,* he says “ The course he held to- 
“ wards the rebels, it was utterly differing from his 


* Page 331. 


XXX PREFACE. 


“former custom and practice: which was ever full 
“of forwardness and celerity to make head against 
“ them, or to set upon them as soon as ever they 
“ were in action. This he was wont to do. But 
“ now, besides that he was attempered by years, and 
“ less in love with dangers, by the continued fruition 
“of acrown; it was a time when the various ap- 
“ pearance to his thoughts of perils of several na- 
“tures and from divers parts, did make him judge 
“it his best and surest way, to keep his strength to- 
“‘ gether in the seat and centre of his kingdom: ac- 
“ cording to the ancient Indian emblem, in such a 
“ swelling season, to hold the hand upon the middle 
“* of the bladder, that no side might rise.” And again, 
« All this while the rebellion of Cornwall, where- 
“of we have spoken, seemed to have no relation to 
“ Perkin; save that perhaps Perkin’s proclamation 
“ had stricken upon the right vein, in premising to 
“ lay down exactions and payments, and so had made 
“ them now and then have a kind thought on Perkin. 
“ But now these bubbles by much stirring began to 
“‘ meet, as they use to do upon the top of water.”* 
And his kind nature and holy feeling appear in his 
account of the conquest of Granada.} “ Some- 
“what about this time came letters from 
“ Ferdinando and Isabella, King and Queen of 
“ Spain ; signifying the final conquest of Granada 
“ from the Moors; which action, in itself so worthy, 
“ King Ferdinando, whose manner was never to lose 


* Page 266. + Page 345. 


PREFACE. XxXxl 


“ any virtue for the shewing, had expressed and dis- 
played in his letters at large, with all the particu_ 
“Jarities and religious punctos and ceremonies, that 
“were observed in the reception of that city and 
“kingdom: shewing, amongst other things, that 
“ the king would not by any means in person enter 
“the city, until he had first aloof seen the cross set 
‘up upon the greater tower of Granada, whereby 
*‘ it became Christian ground. ‘That likewise, be- 
“ fore he would enter, he did homage to God above, 
“ pronouncing by an herald from the height of that 
“ tower, that he did acknowledge to have recovered. 
“that kingdom by the help of God Almighty, and 
“ the glorious Virgin, and the virtuous Apostle Saint 
“ James, and the holy father Innocent the Eighth, 
“together with the aids and services of his prelates, 
“nobles, and commons. ‘That yet he stirred not 
“from his camp till he had seen a little army of 
“martyrs, to the number of seven hundred and 
‘«* more Christians that had lived in bonds and ser- 
“ vitude, as slaves to the Moors, pass before his eyes, 
“ singing a psalm for their redemption.” 


HISTORY OF HENRY VIII. 


Of this tract Archbishop Tenison says, “ the 
“Second is, the fragment of the History of Henry 
“the Eighth, printed at the end of his lordship’s 
** miscellany works, of which the best edition is that 
“in quarto, in the year 1629. This work he un- 
“ dertook, upon the motion of King Charles the 
“ First, but (a greater king not lending him time) 


XXxll PREFACE. 


“he only began it ; for that which we have of it, was 
“‘ (it seems) but one morning’s work.” 
This tract is thus noticed in his letters. 


To the Marquis of Buckingham. 


« Excellent Lord, 
“ Though your lordship’s absence fall out in an 
_ “ill time for myself; yet because I hope in God 
“this noble adventure will make your lordship a 
“yich return in honour, abroad and at home, and 
“chiefly in the inestimable treasure of the love and 
“trust of that thrice-excellent prince; I confess 
‘*T am so glad of it, as I could not abstain from 
“your lordship’s trouble in seeing it expressed by 
“ these few and hasty lines. 

“TI beseech your lordship, of your nobleness 

“ vouchsafe to present my most humble duty to his 
“ highness, who, I hope, ere long will make me leave 
“ King Henry the Eighth, and set me on work in 
“ relation of his highness’s adventures. 

«| very humbly kiss your lordship’s hands, resting 
“.Cver 

« Your lordship’s most obliged friend and servant.” 


“© February 21, 1622.” 


To the Prince. 


«It may please your excellent highness, 
“ T send your highness, in all humbleness, my book 
« of Advancement of Learning, translated into Latin, 
“ but soinlarged, as it may go for anewwork. It isa 


PREFACE. XXxiil 


“book, I think, will live, and be a citizen of the 
“world, as English books are not. For Henry the 
“ Eighth, to deal truly with your highness, I did so 
“ despair of my health this summer, as I was glad 
“to choose some such work, as I might compass 
“within days; so far was I from entering into a 
“work of length. Your highness’s return hath 
“been my restorative. When I shall wait upon your 
“highness, I shall give you a farther account. So 
“*T most humbly kiss your highness’s hands, resting 
“ Your highness’s most devoted servant. 
“TI would (as I wrote to the duke in Spain) I 
“could do your highness’s journey any honour with 
“my pen. It began like a fable of the poets; but 
“ it deserveth all in a piece a worthy narration.” 


HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 


The first letter upon this subject is 

“ To the Lord Chancellor, touching the History of 
“ Britain, 

“ It may please your good Lordship, 

“ Some late act of his majesty, referred to some 
“ former speech which I have heard from your lord- 
“ ship, bred in me a great desire, and the strength 
‘‘ of desire a boldness to make an humble proposi- 
“tion to your lordship, such as in me can be no 
“better than a wish: but if your lordship should 
“ apprehend it, it may take some good and worthy 
“effect. The act I speak of, is the order given by 
_ “his majesty for the erection of a tomb or monu- 
VOL. 3. d 


XXXIV PREFACE. 


«ment for our late sovereign Queen Elizabeth :* 
“ wherein I may note much, but only this at this 
“ time, that as her majesty did always right to his 
“ majesty’s hopes, so his highness doth in all things 
“ right to her memory ; a very just and princely re- 
“tribution. But from this occasion, by a very easy 
“ ascent, I passed farther, being put in mind, by this 
“ representative of her person, of the more true and 
« more vive representation, which is of her life and 
“ government: for as statues and pictures are dumb 
«< histories, so histories are speaking pictures ; where- 
“in if my affection be not too great, or my reading 
“ too small, I am of this opinion, that if Plutarch 
“were alive to write lives by parallels, it would 
“ trouble him both for virtue and fortune, to find 
“ for her a parallel amongst women. And though 
« she was of the passive sex, yet her government 
“ was so active, as, in my simple opinion, it made 
“ more impression upon the several states of Europe, 
“than it received from thence. But I confess unto 
“ your lordship I could not stay here, but went a 
“little farther into the consideration of the times 
«“ which have passed since King Henry VIII; 
«“ wherein I find the strangest variety, that in so 
« little number of successions of any hereditary mo- 
“narchy hath ever been known. The reign of a 
« child ; the offer of an usurpation, though it was 


«* The monument here spoken of was erected in King 
“’ Henry VII’s chapel at Westminster, in the year 1606. 


PREFACE. XXXV 


“ but as a diary ague ; the reign ofa lady married to 
“a foreigner ; and the reign of a lady solitary and 
“ unmarried ; so that as it cometh to pass in massy 
‘“ bodies, that they have certain trepidations and 
‘“‘ wavering before they fix and settle ; so it seemeth 
“ that by the providence of God this monarchy, be- 
“ fore it was to settle in his majesty, and his gene- 
“ rations, in which I hope it is now established for 
“ever, hath had these prelusive changes in these 
“barren princes. Neither could I contain myself 
“here, as it is easier for a man to multiply than to 
“ stay a wish, but calling to remembrance the un- 
“‘ worthiness of the history of England,* in the 
“ main continuance thereof; and the partiality and 


“* The unworthiness of the history of England hath been 
“long complained of by ingenious men, both of this and other 
“ nations, Sir Francis Bacon hath expressed himself much to the 
“‘ same effect, though more at large in his secod book of the 
“« Advancement of Learning: where he carries this period of re- 
‘*‘ markable events somewhat higher than in this letter, begin- 


‘ning with the union of the roses under Henry VII. and end- 


“‘ ing with the union of the kingdoms under King James. A 
“ portion of time filled with so great and variable accidents 
“both in church and state, and since so well discovered to the 
“ view of the world, that had other parts the same performance, 
“we should not longer lie under any reproach of this kind. 
“ The reign of King Henry VII. was written by our author soon 
“ after his retirement, with so great beauty of style, and wisdom 
“of observation, that nothing can be more entertaining; the 
‘truth of history not being disguised with the false colours of 
** romance. It was so acceptable to the P. of Wales, that when 
‘ he became king, he commanded him to proceed with the reign 
‘of King Henry VIII. But my Lord Bacon meditating the his- 


XXXVI PREFACE. 


“obliquity of that of Scotland, in the latest and 
“largest author* that I have seen: I conceived 
“it would be honour for his majesty, and a work 
“ very memorable, if this island of Great Britain, as 
«it is now joined in monarchy for the ages to come, 
“ so it were joined in history for the times past : and 
“that one just and complete history were compiled 
“of both nations. And if any man perhaps should 
‘think it may refresh the memory of former dis- 
“ cords, he may satisfy himself with the verse ‘ olim 
“hee meminisse juvabit:’ for the case being now 


‘ tory of nature, which he hardly lived to publish; his ill state 
«of health, and succeeding death, put an end to this and other 
‘ noble designs; leaving the ecclesiastical and civil affairs of 
“those times to be related by the learned pens of Dr. Burnet, 
‘‘ notwithstanding the objections of the avowed enemies, and 
‘¢ seeming friends to the reformation, and the Lord Herbert of 
“‘ Cherbury; that I think there is not much of moment to be ex- 
“pected from a future hand. And for the annals of Queen 
‘« Elizabeth compiled by Mr. Camden, the esteem of them is as 
«universal as the language in which they are written. Nor 
«‘ must I forget in this place to take notice of two fair and large 
“‘ volumes lately published in French by Monsieur de Larrey ; 
“where building upon the foundations laid by these gen- 
‘«¢ tlemen, and some other memoirs, he hath not forgotten to do 
“much honour to the English nation. beginning his history 
‘¢also with HenryVII.” Stephens. 

«© * This ] take to be meant of Buchanan’s history of Scot- 
«land; a book much admired by some, though censured by 
‘many, for his partiality in favour of the Lords, against Mary 
«¢ Queen of the Scots, and the regal power. In other respects, 
«« Archbishop Spotswood informs us that he penned it with 
“such judgment and eloquence, as no country can shew a 
“better.” Stephens. 


PREFACE. XXXVli 


“ altered, it is matter of comfort and gratulation to 
“ remember former troubles. Thus much, if it may 
“ please your lordship, is in the optative mood ; and 
* it is time that I did look a little into the potential ; 
“ wherein the hope which I conceived was grounded 
“ upon three observations. The first, the nature of 
“ these times, which flourish in learning, both of art 
“and language; which giveth hope not only that 
“it may be done, but that it may be well done. 
* Secondly, I do see that which all the world sees in 
“his majesty, both a wonderful judgment in learn- 
* ing, and a singular affection towards learning, and 
“ works which are of the mind more than of the hand. 
“For there cannot be the like honour sought and 
“ found, in building of galleries,* and planting of 
* elms along high-ways, and in those outward or- 
“ naments, wherein France is now so busy, things 
“rather of magnificence than of magnanimity, as 
“there is in the uniting of states,} pacifying of con- 
“ troversies,{ nourishing and augmenting of learn- 
“ ing and arts, and the particular actions appertain- 
“ing to these; of which kind Cicero judged truly, 
“ when he said to Cesar, ‘ Quantum operibus tuis 
“‘ detrahet vetustas, tantum addet laudibus.’ And 


“ * The magnificent gallery at the Louvre in Paris, built 
“‘ by Henry IV.” 

“+ The union of England and Scotland.” 

“*{ The conference at Hampton Court held between the 
‘‘ bishops and puritans, as they were then called, soon after the 
‘* king’s coming to the crown of England, and where his ma- 
‘‘ jesty was the moderator.” Stephens. 


XXXVI PREFACE. 


“lastly, I call to mind, that your lordship at some 
“times hath been pleased to express unto me a 
“ reat desire, that something of this nature should 
“be performed; answerable indeed to your other 
“noble and worthy courses and actions: joining 
“and adding unto the great services towards his 
“majesty, which have, in small compass of time, 
“been performed by your lordship, other great de- 
“servings both of the Church and commonwealth, 
“ and particulars; so as the opinion of so great and 
“ wise a man doth seem to me a good warrant both 
“ of the possibility and worth of the matter. But 
“ all this while I asure myself, I cannot be mistaken 
“by your lordship, as if I sought an office or em- 
“ ployment for myself; for no man knows better 
“than your lordship, that if there were im me any 
“faculty thereunto, yet neither my course of life 
“ nor profession would permit it ; but because there 
“be so many good painters both for hand and co- 
“ lours, it needeth but encouragement and instruc- 
“tions to give life unto it. So in all humbleness I 
“ conclude my presenting unto your lordship this 
“wish; which, if it perish, it is but a loss of that 
“which is not. And so craving pardon that I have 
-“ taken so much time from your lordship, I remain— 

The next letter is 
“To the King, upon sending unto him a beginning 

“ of the History of his Majesty’s times. 
“ It may please your Majesty, 

“‘ Hearing that your Majesty is at leisure to pe- 

“yuse story, a desire took me to make an experiment 


PREFACE. XXx1x 


“ what I could do in your majesty’s times, which 
“being but a leaf or two, I pray your pardon, | 
“send it for your recreation; considering that love 
“ must creep where it cannot go. But to these I 
“ add these petitions: First, that if your majesty do 
“ dislike any thing, you would conceive I can amend 
“ it upon your least beck. Next, that if I have not 
“ spoken of your majesty encomiastically, your ma- 
“ jesty would be pleased only to ascribe it to the 
“ Jaw of an history ; which doth not cluster together 
“ praises upon the first mention of a name, but ra- 
“ther disperseth and weaveth them through the 
“ whole narrative. And as for the proper place of 
«‘ commemoration, which is in the period of life, I 
“ pray God I may never live to write it. Thirdly, 
“ that the reason why I presumed to think of this 
“ oblation, was because whatsoever my disability be, 
“yet I shall have that advantage which almost no 
“ writer of history hath had; in that I shall write 
“ of times not only since I could remember, but since 
“TI could observe. And lastly, that it is only for 
“ your majesty’s reading.” 

Of this tract Archbishop Tenison says, “ This 
‘“‘was an essay, sent to King James, whose 
“ times it considered. A work worthy his pen, had 
“ he proceeded in it; seeing (as he saith) he should 
“ have written of times, not only since he could re- 
“‘ member, but since he could observe ; and by way 
“ of introduction, of times, as he further noteth, of 
“ strange variety ; the reign of a child: the offer of 
“ usurpation by the Lady Jane, thoughit were but as 


xl PREFACE. 


“‘a diary ague; the reign of a lady married to a 
“ foreigner, and the reign of a Jady solitary and un- 
“ married. 

“ His lordship, who had given such proof of his 
“ skill in writing an History of England, leaving the 
“ world, to the unspeakable loss of the learned part 
“of it; his late majesty, a great favourer of that 
“* work, and wise in the choice of fit workmen, en- 
“ couraged Sir Henry Wotton to endeavour it, by 
“his royal invitation, and a pension of 500/. per 
“annum, This proposal was made to that excel- 
lent man, in his declining years; and he died after 
“the finishing some short characters of some few 
“kings; which characters are published in his 
“« Remains. 


STATE OF EUROPE, 


This tract is supposed by Mallet to have been 
the first work written by Lord Bacon, and to have 
been written about the year 1580, when he was be- 
tween 19 and 20 years of age :—because it states, 
“that Henry III. of France was then 30 years 
old: now that king began his reign in 1576, at 
the age of 24 years, so that Bacon was then 19.” 
How far this evidence is satisfactory, may be col- 
lected from other parts of the same tract. It says, 
“Gregory XIII. of the age of 70 years :’—but 
Gregory XIII. was 70 years old in the year 1572, 
when he was elected Pope, so that according to this 
reasoning, it might be inferred that it was written 
when Bacon was 12 years of age. In another part 


PREFACE. xli 


of the tract it states, “ The King of Spain, Philip, 
son to Charles the Fifth, about 60 years of age :” 
but he was born on the 21st of May, 1527, so that 
he was 60 years old in 1587, when Bacon was be- 
tween 16 and 17 years old.—The Author of Bacon’s 
Life in the Biographia Britannica, from these differ- 
ent dates, concludes that the tract was written at 
different periods of time, beginning, as he must sup- 
pose, when Bacon was quite a boy: but, as it was 
not necessary for the purposes of this tract that the 
ages of the different monarchs should be ascertained 
with great precision, it is, perhaps, not probable that 
they were accurately examined, and the only fair 
inference is that it was written at a very early period 
of his life.* 

The same author says, “ But what is extremely 
_ “remarkable in this small treatise, is the care and ac- 
“curacy with which he has set down most of the little 
“princes in Germany, with the state of their domi- 
“nions.” This minute observation, however, extends 
to all his works: and of all the extraordinary pro- 
perties of Bacon’s wonderful mind, his constant ob- 
servation of what, we, in common parlance, call 
trifles, appears to be one of the most extraordinary. 
“ See,” he says, “the little cloud upon glass or 
“gems or blades of swords, and mark well the dis- 
“ charge of that cloud, and you shall perceive that 


“«* The tract says, ““D. Antonio, elect King of Portugal, is 
‘¢ now in France, where he hath levied soldiers, whereof part are 
‘* embarked, hoping to be restored again.” 


xl PREFACE. 


‘‘it ever breaks up first in the skirts, and last in the 
“ midst. May we not learn from this the force of 
“ union, even in the least quantities and weakest 
“ bodies, how much it conduceth to preservation of 
“the present form and the resisting of a new. In 
“like manner, icicles, if there be water to follow 
“them, lengthen themselves out in a very slender 
«thread, to prevent a discontinuity of the water ; 
«but if there be not a sufficient quantity to follow, 
«the water then falls in round drops, which is the 
« figure that best supports it against discontinuation ; 
“ and at the very instant when the thread of water 
« ends, and the falling in drops begins, the water re- 
“ coils upwards to avoid being discontinued, So in 
« metals, which are fluid upon fusion, though a little 
‘ tenacious, some of the mettled mass frequently 
‘‘ springs up in drops, and sticks in that form to the 
«sides of the crucible. There is a like instance in 
« the looking-glasses, commonly made of spittle by 
« children, in a loop of rush or whalebone, where we 
«find a consistent pellicule of water.” Possessing 
this peculiar property himself, Bacon constantly ad- 
monishes his readers of its importance. “ The eye 
“of the understanding, (he says,) is like the eye 
“of the sense: for as you may see great objects 
« through small crannies or levels, so you may see 
“axioms of great nature through small and con- 
“ temptible instances.” And again, “ it should be 
“ considered as an oracle, the saying of the poor 
«woman to the haughty prince, who rejected 
“her petition as a thing below his dignity to 
“ notice—‘ then cease to reign: for it is cer- 


PREFACE. xiii 


“tain, that whoever will not attend to matters 
“because they are too minute or trifling, shall 


“never obtain command or rule over nature.” 


And again, “he who cannot contract the sight of 
«his mind as well as disperse and dilate it, wanteth 
“a great faculty: for certainly this may be averred 
“ for truth, that they be not the highest instances, that 
«“ give the best and surest information. This is not 
“‘ unaptly expressed in the tale, so common, of the 
“ philosopher, who while he gazed upward to the 
« stars fell into the water; for if he had looked 
« down, he might have seen the stars in the water, 


“but looking up to heaven he could not see the 


“ water in the stars. In like manner it often comes 
‘to pass that small and mean things conduce more 
“to the discovery of great matters, than great 
“things to the discovery of small matters; and 
“ therefore Aristotle notes well, that the nature of 
“ every thing is best seen in its smallest portions. 
« For that cause he inquires the nature of a com- 
“ monwealth, first in a family and the simple conju- 
“gations of society, man and wife; parents and 
“ children ; master and servant, which are in every 
“cottage. So likewise the nature of this great city 
“of the world, and the policy théreof, must be 
“ sought in every first concordances and least por- 
“tions of things. So we see that secret of nature 
“(esteemed one of the great mysteries) of the 
“ turning of iron touched with a loadstone towards 


*‘ the poles, was found out in needles of iron, not in 
“ bars of iron.” — 


xJiv PREFACE. 


BIOGRAPHY. 


Of the importance of biography, Bacon speaks 
in his Advancement of Learning ;* concluding his 
remarks by saying, “ Bona Fama propria possessio 
‘“‘ defunctorum,” which possession I cannot but note, 
that in our times it lieth much waste and that therein 
there is a deficience. This deficience with respect 
to Elizabeth he was anxious to supply by the pub- 
lication of his sentiments, “ in Felicem Memoriam 
« Elizabethe :” but this publication seems to have re- 
quired some caution, and to have been attended 
with some difficulty. In 1605, Bacon thus spoke: 
« But for a tablet, or picture of smaller volume, 
“(not presuming to speak of your majesty that 
“ liveth,) in my judgment the most excellent is that 
< of Queen Elizabeth, your immediate predecessor in 
“this part of Britain; a princess that, if Plutarch 
“ were now alive to write lives by parallels, would 
“trouble him, I think, to find for her a parallel 
“amongst women. This lady was endued with 
“ Jearning in her sex singular, and rare even amongst 
« masculine princes; whether we speak of learning, 
“ language, or of science, modern, or ancient, divi- 
“ nity or humanity: and unto the very last year of 
‘‘ her life she was accustomed to appoint set hours 
“for reading; scarcely any young student in any 
university more daily, or more duly. As for her 
“ government, I assure myself, I shall not exceed, 
« if I do affirm that this part of the island never had 


* Page 111. 


PREFACE. . xiv 


“ forty-five years of better times; and yet not 
“ through the calmness of the season, but through 
“ the wisdom of her regimen. For if there be con- 
“sidered of the one side, the truth of religion 
“ established, the constant peace and security, the 
“ good administration of justice, the temperate use 
“of the prerogative, not slackened, nor much 
“ strained, the flourishing state of learning, sortable 
“ to so excellent a patroness, the convenient estate 
“ of wealth and means, both of crown and subject, the 
“ habit of obedience, and the moderation of discon- 
“ tents; and there be considered, on the other side, 
“the differences of religion, the troubles of neigh- 
“ bour countries, the ambition of Spain, and opposi- 
“tion of Rome: and then, that she was solitary and 
“of herself: these things, I say, considered, as I 
“ could not have chosen an instance so recent and 
“so proper, so, I suppose, I could not have chosen 
“ one more remarkable or eminent to the purpose 
“ now in hand, which is concerning the conjunction 
“of learning in the prince with felicity in the 
“ people.”* So he wrote in the year 1605; but, about 
the year 1612, “ The King,” says Wilson, “ cast his 
thoughts towards Peterborough, where his mother 
lay, whom he caused to be translated to a magni- 
ficent tomb, at Westminster. And (somewhat 
suitable to her mind when she was living) she had 
a translucent passage in the night, through the 
city of London, by multitudes of torches: the ta- 


* See ante xxxiii. 


xlvi PREFACE. 


pers placed by the tomb and the altar, in the ca- 
thedral, smoking with them like an offertory, with 
all the ceremonies, and voices, their quires and 
copes could express, attended by many prelates 
and nobles, who paid this last tribute to her me- 
mory.”* Before this time Bacon had written his 
essay in “ Felicem Memoriam Elizabethe,” which 
he sent to Sir George Carew, whose death 
M. De Thou laments, in a letter to Mr. Camden, 
in the year 1613. The following is the letter to 
Sir George Carew.} ‘‘ Being asked a question by 
«“ this bearer, an old servant of my brother Anthony 
« Bacon’s, whether I would command him any 
“thing into France; and being at better leisure 
« than I would, in regard of sickness, I began to re- 
“member that neither your business nor mine, 
« though great and continual, can be, upon an exact 
“ account, any just occasion why so much good-will 
« ashath passed between us should be so much dis- 


* Wilson. 

«+ Sir George Carew, of Cornwall, was Master in Chancery in 
‘the time of queen Elizabeth; and in 1597 sent ambassador 
‘into Poland; and in 1606 went to the court of France with the 
“like character. After about three years continuance, he was 
« recalled by the king to make use of his services at home; but 
‘che survived not many years. M. De Thou ina letter to Mr. 
«‘ Camden in 1613, very much laments his death; as losing a 
« friend he much valued, and an assistant in the prosecution of 
“his history: having received helps from him in that part which 
‘‘ relates to the dissentions between the Poles and the Swedes in 
“the year 1598, as appears before the contents of book cxxi.”— 


Stephens. 


PREFACE. xivii 


*‘ continued as it hath been. And therefore, because 
“ one must begin, I thought to provoke your re- 
“‘membrance of me by a letter: and thinking to 
“ fill it with somewhat besides salutations, it came to 
“ my mind, that this last summer vacation, by occa- 
“sion of a factious book that endeavoured to verify 
“ Misera Foemina, the addition of the pope’s bull, 
“ upon Queen Elizabeth, I did write a few lines in 
“her memorial, which I thought you would be 
“pleased to read, both for the argument, and _be- 
“cause you were wont to bear affection to my pen. 
“«Verum, ut aliud ex alio,’ if it came handsomely to 
“ pass, I would be glad the president De Thou, who 


“hath written an history, as you know, of that fame 


“and diligence, saw it ; chiefly because I know not 


“whether it may not serve him for some use in his 
“ story; wherein I would be glad he did write to 
“the truth, and to the memory of that lady, as I 
“ perceive by that he hath already written he is well 
‘inclined to do. I would be glad also, it were 
“some occasion, such as absence may permit, of 
“some acquaintance or mutual notice between us. 
“ For though he hath many ways the precedence, 
“chiefly in worth, yet this is common to us both, 
“‘ that we serve our sovereigns in places of law emi- 
“nent: and not ourselves only, but that our fa- 
“thers did so before us. And lastly, that both of 
“us love learning and liberal sciences, which was 
“ever a bond of friendship in the greatest distance 
“of places. But of this I make no farther request, 
“than your own occasions and respects, to me 


xlviil PREFACE. 


“known, may further or limit; my principal pur- 
“ pose being to salute you, and to send you this 
“ token: whereunto I will add my very kind com- 
“ mendations to my lady; and so commit you both 
“ to God’s holy protection.” 

It seems probable that this tract was intended 
for publication during the life of the king. It 
says, “ Restant felicitates posthume due, lis que 
‘‘ vivam comitabantur fere celsiores et augustiores : 
‘ una successoris, altera memorize. Nam successo- 
“ rem sortita est eum, qui licet et mascula virtute et 
“‘ prole, et nova imperii accessione fastigium ejus 
“ excedat et obumbret; tamen et nomini et honori- 
“ bus ejus faveat, et actis ejus quandam perpetuita- 
“tem donet: cum nec eX personarum delectu, nec 
“ ex institutorum ordine, quicquam magnopere mu- 
‘‘ taverit: adeo ut raro filius parenti, tanto silentio, 
“ atque tam exigua mutatione et perturbatione suc- 
“ cesserit.”* But it was not published during the life 
of the author; and the praise of Elizabeth, in the 
Advancement of Learning, is wholly omitted, and 
certainly not for its want of beauty, in the treatise 
«De Augmentis,” published in 1623, where he also 
omits the passage already cited in this preface.+ 
«Then the reign of a queen matched with a 
“foreigner: then of a queen that lived solitary 
“ and unmarried, and yet her government so 
“masculine that it had greater impression and 


* See page 468 of this volume. 
+ Ante page xi. 


Soa ae 


PREFACE. xlix 


“ operation upon the states abroad than it any ways 
“ received from thence;” merely saying ‘ Rursus 
regnum femine solitaria et ccelibis.. Whatever 
were the motives by which he was induced to sup- 
press, for a time, the just praise of Elizabeth, he 
ordered the publication in a will, which, he after- 
wards cancelled, but, in all probability, after some 
understanding with Dr. Rawley, that the publication 
should appear, as it did, soon after his death. This 
appears from Rawley’s account.* “I thought it 
“ fitting to intimate, that the discourse, within con- 
“ tained, entitled, A Collection of the Felicities of 
“ Queen Elizabeth; was written by his lordship 
“ in Latin only: whereof, though his lordship had 
“his particular ends then; yet in regard that I 
“ held it a duty, that her own nation, over which 
“she so happily reigned for many years, should 
“be acquainted and possessed with the virtues 
“‘ of that excellent queen, as well as foreign na- 
** tions, I was induced, many years ago, to put 
“the same into the English tongue; not ‘ad 
“ verbum, for that had been but flat and inju- | 
“dicious; but, (as far, as my slender ability 
“‘ could reach,) according to the expressions which 
“I conceived his lordship would have rendered 
“ it in, if he had written the same in English: yet 
“ever acknowledging that Zeuxes, or Apelles’ 
“ pencil could not be attained, but by Zeuxes, or 


* Preface to the Resuscitatio. 
VOL. 3. e 


PREFACE. 


“ Apelles himself. This work, in the Latin, his 
“lordship so much affected, that he had ordained, 
“ by his last will and testament, to have had it pub- 
“ lished many years since: but that singular person 
‘entrusted therewith, soon after deceased. And 
“therefore it must now expect a time to come 
“ forth amongst his lordship’s other Latin works.” 
And Archbishop Tenison says, “ the third is, a memo- 
‘rial, entitled The Felicities of Queen Elizabeth. 
“This was written by his lordship in Latin only. A 
“person, of more good will than ability, translated 
“it into English, and called it in the singular, Her 
“ Felicity. But we have also a version, much more 
“accurate and judicious, performed by Doctor 
“ Rawley, who was pleased to take that labour upon 
“ him, because he understood the value his lordship 
“ put upon this work; for it was such, that I find 
“this charge given concerning it, in his last will 
“and testament. “ In particular, I wish the eulogy 
“ which I writ, in ‘ Felicem Memoriam Elizabethe, 
“‘ may be published.’” 


LIVES OF THE CAESARS. 


Of these tracts Tenison says, “the fifth is, 
“ “the Imago Civilis Julii Cesaris.’ The sixth, 
“¢ Imago Civilis Augusti Cexsaris.’ Both of them 
“short personal characters, and not histories of 
“ their empire: and written by his lordship in that 
“ tongue, which in their times was at its height, and 
“ became the language of the world. A while since, 


OE 


PREFACE. li 


“they were translated into English, and inserted 
“into the first part of the Resuscitation.” " 

In the few lines upon the character of Augustus 
Cesar, there is a maxim well deserving the deep 
consideration of every young man of sensibility, apt 
to be 


Misled by fancy’s meteor ray, 
By passion driven: 

And yet the light that leads astray, 
Is light from heaven. 


Bacon says, “ those persons* which are of a tur- 
“ bulent nature or appetite, do commonly pass their 
“ youth in many errors; and about their middle, 
“and then and not before, they shew forth their 
“ perfections; but those that are of a sedate and 
** calm nature, may be ripe for great and glorious 
“ actions in their youth.” The very same sentiment 
which he expresses in his Essay on Youth and Age: 
“ Natures that have much heat, and great and 
“ violent desires and perturbations, are not ripe for 
“ action till they have passed the meridian of their 
“ years: as it was with Julius Cesar and Septimius 
“ Severus; of the latter of whom it is said, ‘ juven- 
“ tutem egit, erroribus, imo furoribus plenam ;’ and 
“ yet he was the ablest emperor, almost, of all the 
“ list : but reposed natures may do well in youth, as 
“it is seen in Augustus Cesar, Cosmus, duke of 
“ Florence, Gaston de Foix, and others.” 


* Page 489 


hii PREFACE. 


HENRY PRINCE OF WALES. 


ae 


I have selected this piece of biography from the 
letters, and restored it to what appears to me to be 
its proper place. Of this a MS. may be found in 
the British Museum. 


THE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


Tue WispoM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
Cassandra, or Divination 
Typhon, ora Rebel - - 
The Cyclops, or the Ministers of Terror 
Narcissus, or Self Love - 
Styx, or Leagues - 

Pan, or Nature a 
Perseus, or War - 
Endymion, or a Favourite 

The Sister of the Giants, or Fame 
Acteon and Pentheus, or a Curious Man 
Orpheus, or Philosophy - 
Colum, or Beginnings 

Proteus, or Matter - 

i Memnon, or Youth too Forward 
Tithonus, or Satiety - 
Juno’s Suitor, or Baseness 
Cupid, or an Atom - 
Diomedes, or Zeal - 
Deedalus, or Mechanic 
Ericthonius, or Imposture 
Deucalion, or Restitution - 
Nemesis, or the Vicissitudes of Things - 
Achelous, or Battle 
Dionysius, or Passions 
Atalanta, or Gain - 
Prometheus, or the State of Man 
Scylla and Icarus, or the Middle Way 
Sphynx, or Science - 
Proserpina, or Spirit - 

Metis, or Counsel eh. 
The Syrens, or Pleasures - 


liv CONTENTS. 


Civit History. 


History of Henry VII. - 


of Henry VIII. 
History of Great Britain 
State of Europe = 


BioGRAPHY 
Queen Elizabeth - 
Julius Cesar | =e 
Augustus Cesar - 
Prince Henry - 


THE 


WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


(Sh 
- 


A 


ca 


es 


- 


ee 
ey 
a 


ae 


" 


po 


the 


ee 
eee 
oo ee 


ae 
ri 
ae 


ere 


eo 
i" ene 


in 


- ig 
oe Spee i _ ee 
: 7 eee Cee 


a 


a 


ee 
hae 


- 
ee Onto 
eee 
ee 


: 


he 
es 


a 
eae, 


<2 
Be 


ae 
es 


oe 
as 
- 


PL: 


aes 
a 
Oo 


os 


cee 


ee 


aoe 
Tate! 


7 


ere: 


Be 
a 


ae 


oe 


_ 


Dae 


ee 
a 


a 


a 
So 


Pa 
ee 


Bas 
Pa ae 
‘ 


ee 
Caine om 
, a 1 


ey et oe 
are ne 


aoe 


a 
2 


hs 
ws 


* 


. 


THE PREFACE. 


THE antiquities of the first age (except those we 
find in sacred writ) were buried in oblivion and 
silence: silence was succeeded by poetical fables ; 
and fables again were followed by the records we 
now enjoy: so that the mysteries and secrets of an- 
tiquity were distinguished and separated from the 
records and evidences of succeeding times, by the veil 
of fiction, which interposed itself, and came between 
those things which perished and those which are 
extant. I suppose some are of opinion that my 
purpose is to write toys and trifles, and to usurp the 
same liberty in applying, that the poets assumed in 
feigning, which I might do (confess) if I listed, 
and with more serious contemplation intermix these 
things, to delight either myself in meditation, or 
others in reading. Neither am I ignorant how fickle 
and inconstant a thing fiction is, as being subject to 
be drawn and wrested any way, and how great the 
commodity of wit and discourse is, that is able to 
apply things well, yet so as never meant by the first 
authors. But I remember that this liberty hath 
VOL. 3. B 


ll PREFACE. 


been lately much abused, in that many, to purchase 
the reverence of antiquity to their own inventions 
and fancies, have for the same intent laboured to 
wrest many poetical fables; neither hath this old 
and common vanity been used only of late, or now 
and then: for even Chrysippus long ago did, as an 
interpreter of dreams, ascribe the opinions of the 
stoics to the ancient poets; and more sottishly do 
the chemists appropriate the fancies and delights of 
poets in the transformations of bodies to the experi- 
ments of their furnace. All these things, I say, I 
have sufficiently considered and weighed; and in 
them have seen and noted the general levity and 
indulgence of men’s wits above allegories; and yet 
for all this, I relinquish not my opinion. 

For, first, it may not be that the folly and loose- 
ness of a few should altogether detract from the re- 
spect due to the parables; for that were a conceit 
which might savour of profaneness and presump- 
tion; for religion itself doth sometimes delight in 
such veils and shadows; so that whoso exempts 
them, seems in a manner to interdict all commerce 
between things divine and human. But concerning 
human wisdom, I do indeed ingenuously and freely 
confess, that I am inclined to imagine, that under 
some of the ancient fictions lay couched certain mys- 
teries and allegories, even from their first invention; 
and I am persuaded, whether ravished with the re- 
verence of antiquity, or because in some fables I 
find such singular proportion between the similitude 
and the thing signified, and such apt and clear cohe- 


” PREFACE. ill 


rence in the very structure of them, and propriety of 
names wherewith the persons or actors in them are 
ascribed and intituled, that no man can constantly 
deny but this sense was in the author’s intent and 
meaning, when they first invented them, and that 
they purposely shadowed it in this sort : for who can 
be so stupid and blind in the open light, as (when he 
hears how fame, after the giants were destroyed, 
sprang up as their youngest sister), not to refer it to 
the murmurs and seditious reports of both sides, 
which are wont to fly abroad for a time after the 
suppressing of insurrections ? Or when he hears how 
the giant Typhon having cut out and brought away 
Jupiter’s nerves, which Mercury stole from him, and 
restored again to Jupiter ; doth not presently per- 
ceive how fitly it may be applied to powerful rebel- 
lions, which take from princes their sinews of money 
and authority ; but so, that by affability of speech 
and wise edicts (the minds of their subjects being in 


time privily, and as it were by stealth reconciled) 


they recover their strength again? Or when he hears 
how, in that memorable expedition of the gods 
against the giants, the braying of Silenus’s ass, 
conduced much to the profligation of the giants, 
doth not confidently imagine that it was invented to 
shew how the greatest enterprises of rebels are often- 
times dispersed with vain rumours and fears. 
Moreover, to what judgment can the conformity 
and signification of names seem obscure? Seeing 
Metis, the wife of Jupiter, doth plainly signify coun- 


sel; Typhon, insurrection ; Pan, universality ; Ne- 


1V PREFACE. #& 


mesis, revenge ; and the like. Neither let it trouble 
any man, if sometimes he meet with historical narra- 
tions, or additions for ornament’s sake, or confusion 
of times, or something transferred from one fable to 
another, to bring in a new allegory ; for it could be 
no otherwise, seeing they were the inventions of 
men which lived in divers ages, and had also divers 
ends, some being ancient, others neoterical; some 
have an eye to things natural, others to moral. 
There is another argument, and that no small 
one neither, to prove that these fables contain certain 
hidden and involved meanings, seeing some of them 
are observed to be so absurd and foolish in the very 
relation that they shew, and, as it were, proclaim a 
parable afar off; for such tales as are probable they 
may seem to be invented for delight and in imitation 
of history. And as for such as no man would so 
much as imagine or relate, they seem to be sought 
out for other ends: for what kind of fiction is that 
wherein Jupiter is said to have taken Metis to wife, 
and perceiving that she was with child, to have de- 
voured her, whence himself conceiving, brought forth 
Pallas armed out of his head? Truly, I think there 
was never dream, so different to the course of cogi- 
tation and so full of monstrosity, ever hatched in the 
brain of man. Above all things this prevails most 
with me, and is of singular moment ; many of these 
fables seem not to be invented of those by whom they 
are related and celebrated, as by Homer, Hesiod, 
and others: for if it were so, that they took be- 
ginning in that age, and from those authors by whom 


PREFACE. V 


they are delivered and brought to our hands, my 
mind gives me there could be no great or high mat- 
ter expected, or supposed to proceed from them in 
‘respect of these originals. But if with attention we 
consider the matter, it will appear that they were 
delivered and related as things formerly believed and 
received, and not as newly invented and offered unto 
us. Besides, seeing they are diversely related by 
writers that lived near about one and the self same 
time, we may easily perceive that they were common 
things derived from precedent memorials ; and that 
they became various by reason of the divers orna- 
ments bestowed on them by particular relations ; 
and the consideration of this must needs increase in 
us a great opinion of them, as not to be accounted 
either the effects of the times or inventions of the 


~ poets, but as sacred relics or abstracted airs of bet- 


Re 


ter. times, which} by tradition from more ancient na- 
tions, fell into the trumpets and flutes of the Gre- 
cians. But if any do obstinately contend, that alle- 
gories are always adventitially, and as it were by 
constraint, never naturally and properly included in 
fables, we will not be much troublesome, but suffer 
them to enjoy that gravity of judgment which I am 
sure they affect, although indeed it be but lumpish 
and almost leaden. And, if they be worthy to be 
taken notice of, we will begin afresh with them in 
some other fashion. 

There is found among men, and it goes for cur- 
rent, a twofold use of parables, and those, which is 
more to be admired, referred to contrary ends, con- 


vl PREFACE. 


ducing as well to the folding up:and keeping of 
things under a veil, as to the enlightening and lay- 
ing open of obscurities. But, omitting the former, 
rather than to undergo wrangling, and assuming 
ancient fables as things vagrant and composed only 
for delight, the latter must questionlesss till remain 
as not to be wrested from us by any violence of wit, 
neither can any (that is but meanly learned) hinder, 
but it must absolutely be received as a thing grave 
and sober, free from all vanity, and exceeding pro- 
fitable and necessary to all sciences. This is it, I 
say, that leads the understanding of man by an easy 
and gentle passage through all novel and abstruse 
inventions which any way differ from common re- 
ceived opinions. Therefore, in the first ages, (when 
many human inventions and conclusions, which are 
now common and vulgar, were new and not gene- — 
rally known,) all things were full of fables, enigmas, 
parables, and similes of all sorts; by which they 
sought to teach and lay open, not to hide and con- 
ceal knowledge, especially seeing the understandings 
of men were in those times rude and impatient, and 
almost incapable of any subtilties, such things only 
excepted as were the objects of sense; for, as hiero- 
glyphics preceded letters, so parables were more an- 
cient than arguments : and in these days also, he that 
would illuminate men’s minds anew in any old mat- 
ter, and that not with disprofit and harshness, must 
absolutely take the same course, and use the help of 
similes. Wherefore after all that hath been said, 
we will thus conclude, the wisdom of the ancients, 


PREFACE. Vil 


it was either much or happy: much, if these figures 
and tropes were invented by study and premedita- 
tion; happy, if they, intending nothing less, gave 
- matter and occasion to so many worthy meditations. 
As concerning my labours, if there be any thing in 
them which may do good, I will on neither part 
count them ill bestowed, my purpose being to illus- ~ 
trate either antiquity or things themselves. Neither 
am I ignorant that this very subject hath been at- 
tempted by others: but to speak as I think, and that 
freely, without ostentation, the dignity and efficacy of 
the thing, is almost lost by these men’s writings, 
though voluminous and full of pains, whilst not 
diving into the depth of matters, but skilful only in 
certain common places, have applied the sense of 
these parables to certain vulgar and general things, 
not so much as glancing at their true virtue, genu- 
ine propriety, and full depth. I, if I be not de- 
ceived, shall be new in common things; wherefore, 
leaving such as are plain and open, I will aim at fur- 
ther and richer matters. 


a a 


, 


THE 


WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


CASSANDRA, OR DIVINATION. 


The poets fable, that Apollo being enamoured of 
Cassandra, was, by her many shifts and cunning 
sleights, still deluded in his desire; but yet fed on 


with hope until such time as she had drawn from him 


the gift of prophecying; and having by such her dissi- 
mulation, in the end attained to that, which from the 
beginning she sought after, at last flatly rejected his 
suit: who, finding himself so far engaged in his pro- 
mise, as that he could not by any means revoke again 
his rash gift, and yet inflamed with an earnest desire 
of revenge, highly disdaining to be made the scorn of 
a crafty wench, annexed a penalty to his promise, to 
wit, that she should ever foretel the truth but never 
be believed ; so were her divinations always faithful, 
but at no time regarded, whereof she still found the 
experience, yea, even in the ruin of her own country, 
which she had often forewarned them of, but they 
neither gave credit nor ear to her words. 

This fable seems to intimate the unprofitable 
liberty of untimely admonitions and counsels: for 


2 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


they that are so overweened with the sharpness 
and dexterity of their own wit and capacity, as 
that they disdain to submit themselves to the 
documents of Apollo, the god of harmony, where- 
by to learn and observe the method and measure 
of affairs, the grace and gravity of discourse, 
the differences between the more judicious and 
more vulgar ears, and the due times when to speak 
and when to be silent; be they never so sensi- 
ble and pregnant, and their judgments never so 
profound and profitable, yet in all their endea- 
yours either of persuasion or perforce, they avail 
nothing ; neither are they of any moment to ad- 
vantage or manage matters, but do rather hasten on 
the ruin of all those that they adhere or devote 
themselves unto; and then, at last when calamity 
hath made men feel the event of neglect, then shall 
they, too late, be reverenced as deep foreseeing and 
faithful prophets : whereof a notable instance is emi- 
nently set forth in Marcus Cato Uticensis, who as 
from a watch-tower discovered afar off, and as an 
oracle long foretold, the approaching ruin of his 
country, and the plotted tyranny hovering over the 
state, both in the first conspiracy, and as it was pro- 
secuted in the civil contention between Cesar and 
Pompey, and did no good the while, but rather 
harmed the commonwealth and hastened on his 
country’s bane; which M. Cicero wisely observed, and 
writing to a familiar friend, doth in these terms 
excellently describe, “ Cato optime sentit, sed nocet 
“interdum Reipublice : loquitur enim tanquam in 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 3 


a * Republica Platonis, non tanquam in fece Romuli.” 
Cato (saith he) judgeth profoundly, but in the mean 
_ time damnifies the state, for he speaks as in the com- 
monwealth of Plato and not as in the dregs of 
Romulus. 


TYPHON, OR A REBEL. 


Juno, being vexed (say the poets) that Jupiter 
had begotten Pallas by himself without her, earnestly 
pressed all the other gods and goddesses, that she - 
might also bring forth of herself alone without him; 
and having by violence and importunity obtained a 
grant thereof, she smote the earth, and forthwith 
sprang up Typhon, a huge and horrid monster. 
This strange birth she commits to a serpent, as a 
foster-father, to nourish it; who no sooner came to 
ripeness of years but he provokes Jupiter to battle. 
In the conflict, the giant getting the upper hand, 
takes Jupiter upon his shoulders, carries him into a re- 
mote and obscure country, and (cutting out the sinews 
of his hands and feet) brought them away, and so left 
‘him miserably mangled and maimed; but Mercury 
recovering these nerves from Typhon by stealth, re- 
stored them again to Jupiter. Jupiter being again 
by this means corroborated, assaults the monster 
afresh, and at the first strikes him with a thunder- 
bolt, from whose blood serpents were engendered. 
This monster at length fainting and flying, Jupiter 
casts on him the mount Aitna, and with the weight 


_ thereof crushed him. 


This fable seems to point at the variable fortune 


4. THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


of princes, and the rebellious insurrection of traitors 
in a state. For princes may well be said to be mar- 
ried to their dominions, as Jupiter was to Juno ; but 
it happens now and then, that being deboshed by the 
long custom of empiring and bending towards 
tyranny, they endeavour to draw all to themselves, 
and, contemning the counsel of their nobles and sena- 
tors, hatched laws in their own brain, that is, dispose 
of things by their own fancy and absolute power. 
The people, repining at this, study how to create 
and set up achief of their own choice. This project, 
by the secret instigation of the peers and nobles, doth 
for the most part take his beginning ; by whose con- 
nivance the commons being set on edge, there fol- 
lows a kind of murmuring or discontent in the state, 
shadowed by the infancy of Typhon, which being 
nursed by the natural pravity and clownish malignity 
of the vulgar sort, (unto princes as infestuous as ser- 
pents,) is again repaired by renewed strength, and at 
last breaks out into open rebellion, which, because it 
brings infinite mischiefs upon prince and people, is 
represented by the monstrous deformity of ‘Typhon : 
his hundred heads signify their divided powers, his 
fiery mouths their inflamed intents, his serpentine 
circles their pestilent malice in besieging, his iron 
hands their merciless slaughters, his eagle’s talons 
their greedy rapines, his plumed body their con- 
tinual rumours, and scouts, and fears, and such like; 
and sometimes these rebellions grow so potent, that 
princes are enforced (transported as it were by the 
rebels, and forsaking the chief seats and cities of the 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 5 


_ kingdom) to contract their power, and, being de-~ 
_ prived of the sinews of money and majesty, betake 
_ themselves to some remote and obscure corner within 
their dominions ; but in process of time, if they bear 
j their misfortunes with moderation, they may recover 
their strength by the virtue and industry of Mercury, 
] that is, they may, by becoming affable, and by re- 
' conciling the minds and wills of their subjects with 
‘ grave edicts and gracious speech, excite an alacrity 
to grant aids and subsidies whereby to strengthen 
their authority anew. Nevertheless, having learned 
to be wise and wary, they will refrain to try the 
chance of fortune by war, and yet study how to sup- 
press the reputation of the rebels by some famous 
action, which if it fall out answerable to their expec. 
tation, the rebels, finding themselves weakened, and 
fearing the success of their broken projects, betake 
themselves to some sleight and vain bravadoes like the 
« hissing of serpents, and at length in despair betake 
themselves to flight, and then when they begin to 
break, it is safe and timely for kings to pursue and 
oppress them with the forces and weight of the 
kingdom, as it were with the mountain A¢tna. 


THE CYCLOPS, OR THE MINISTERS OF 
TERROR. 


They say that the Cyclops, for their fierceness 
and cruelty, were by Jupiter cast into hell, and there 
doomed to perpetual imprisonment; but Tellus per- 
suaded Jupiter that it would do well, if being set at 
liberty, they were put to forge thunder-bolts, which 


6 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


being done accordingly, they became so painful and 
industrious, as that day and night they continued 
hammering out in laborious diligence thunder-bolts 
and other instruments of terror. In process of time 
Jupiter having conceived a displeasure against 
ZEsculapius, the son of Apollo, for restoring a dead 
man to life by physic, and concealing his dislike 
because there was no just cause of anger, the deed 
being pious and famous, secretly incensed the Cyclops 
against him, who without delay slew him with a 
thunder-bolt; in revenge of which act, Apollo, 
Jupiter not prohibiting it, shot them to death with 
his arrows. 

This fable may be applied to the projects of 
kings, who having cruel, bloody, and exacting 
officers, do first punish and displace them: after- 
wards, by the counsel of Tellus, that is of some base 
and ignoble person, and by the prevailing respect of 
profit, they admit them into their places again, that 
they may have instruments in a readiness, if at any 
time there should need either severity of execution 
or acerbity of exaction. These servile creatures be- 
ing by nature cruel, and by their former fortune 
exasperated, and perceiving well what is expected at 
their hands, do shew themselves wonderful officious 
in such kind of employments; but being too rash 
and precipitate in seeking countenance and creeping 
into favour, do sometimes take occasion, from the 
secret beckonings and ambiguous commands of their 
prince, to perform some hateful execution. But 
princes abhorring the fact, and knowing well that 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 7 


they shall never want such kind of instruments, do 
utterly forsake them, turning them over to the friends 
and allies of the wronged, to their accusations and 
revenge, and to the general hatred of the people ; 
so that with great applause and prosperous wishes 
and acclamations towards the Prince, they are 


brought rather too late than undeservedly to a mi- 
serable end. 


NARCISSUS, OR SELF LOVE. 


They say that Narcissus was exceeding fair and 
beautiful, but wonderful proud and disdainful; 
wherefore despising all others in respect of himself, 
he leads a solitary life in the woods and chases with 
a few followers, to whom he alone was all in all ; 
amongst the rest there follows him the nymph 
Echo. During his course of life, it fatally so 
chanced that he came to a clear fountain, upon the 
bank whereof he lay down to repose himself in the 
heat of the day; and having espied the shadow of 
his own face in the water, was so besotted and 
ravished with the contemplation and admiration 
thereof, that he by no means possibly could be drawn 
from beholding his image in this glass; insomuch, 
that by continual gazing thereupon, he pined away 
to nothing, and was at last turned into a flower of 
his own name, which appears in the beginning of the 
spring, and is sacred to the infernal powers, Pluto, 
Proserpina, and the Furies. 

This fable seems to shew the dispositions and 
fortunes of those, who in respect either of their 


8 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


beauty or other gift wherewith they are adorned 
and graced by nature, without the help of industry, 
are so far besotted in themselves as that they prove 
the cause of their own destruction. For it is the 
property of men infected with this humour not to 
come much abroad, or to be conversant in civil 
affairs; specially seeing those that are in public 
place must of necessity encounter with many con- 
tempts and scorns which may much deject and trou- 
ble their minds; and therefore they lead for the most 
part a solitary, private, and obscure life, attended 
on with a few followers, and those such as will adore 
and admire them, like an echo, flatter them in all 
their sayings, and applaud them in all their words ; 
so that being by this custom seduced and puffed up, 
and as it were stupified with the admiration of them- 
selves, they are possessed with so strange a sloth and. 
idleness, that they grow in a manner benumbed and 
defective of all vigour and alacrity. Elegantly doth 
this flower, appearing in the beginning of the spring, 
represent the likeness of these men’s dispositions, 
who in their youth do flourish and wax famous ; but 
being come to ripeness of years, they deceive and 
frustrate the good hope that is conceived of them. 
Neither is it impertinent that this flower is said to 
be consecrated to the infernal deities, because men 
of this disposition become unprofitable to all human 
things. For whatsoever produceth no fruit of itself, 
but passeth and vanisheth as if it never had been, like 
the way of a ship in the sea, that the ancients were 
wont to dedicate to the ghosts and powers below. 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 9 


STYX, OR LEAGUES. 


The oath by which the gods were wont to oblige 
themselves when they meant to ratify any thing so 
_ firmly as never to revoke it, is a thing well known to 
j the vulgar, as being mentioned almost in every fable, 

which was, when they did not invoke or call to wit- 
ness any celestial majesty or divine power, but only 
the river Styx, that with crooked and meandry turn- 
ings encircleth the palace of the infernal Dis. This 
was held as the only manner of their sacrament, and, 
besides it, not any other vow to be accounted firm 
and inviolable, and therefore the punishment to be 
inflicted, if any did perjure themselves, was, that for 
certain years they should be put out of commons, 
_and not to be admitted to the table of the gods. 
This fable seems to point at the leagues and pacts 
of princes, of which more truly than opportunely 
may be said, that be they never so strongly confirmed 
with the solemnity and religion of an oath, ‘yet are 
for the most part of no validity ; insomuch, that they 
are made rather with an eye to reputation, and re- 
port, and ceremony, than to faith, security, and 
effect. Moreover, add to these the bonds of affinity, 
as the sacraments of nature, and mutual deserts of © 
each part, and you shall observe, that with a great 
many, all these things are placed a degree under 
ambition and profit, and the licentious desire of 
domination; and so much the rather, because it is 
an easy thing for princes to defend and cover their 
3 unlawful desires and unfaithful vows with many out- 
VOL. 3, C 


10 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


wardly seeming fair pretexts, especially seeing there 
is no umpire or moderator of matters concluded 
upon, to whom a reason should be tendered. There- 
fore there is no true and proper thing. made choice 
of for the confirmation of faith, and.that no celes- 
tial power neither, but is indeed necessity (a great 
god to great potentates) the peril also of state, and 
the communication of profit. As for necessity, it is 
elegantly represented by Styx, that fatal and irre- 
meable river ; and this godhead did Ipichrates, the 
Athenian, call to the confirmation of a league, who, 
because he alone is found to speak plainly that which 
many hide covertly in their breasts, it, would not be 
amiss to relate his words. He observing how the 
Lacedemonians had thought upon and propounded 
divers cautions, sanctions, confirmations, and bonds, 
pertaining to leagues, interposed thus: “ Unum 
<¢ Tacedemonii, nobis vobiscum vinculum, et securi- 
“ tatis ratio esse possit, si plane demonstretis, vos ea 
“ nobis concessisse, et inter manus posuisse, ut vobis 
“ facultas ledendi nos si maxime velletis minime 
“‘ suppetere possit.” There is one thing, oh Lace- 
demonians! that would link us unto you in the bond 
of amity, and be the occasion of peace and security, 
which is, if you would plainly demonstrate that you 
have yielded up and put into our hands such things 
as that, would you hurt us never so fain, you should 
yet be disfurnished of means to do it. If, therefore, 
the power of hurting be taken away, or if, by breach 
of league, there follow the danger of the ruin or di- 
minution. of the state or tribute, then indeed the 


ag 
te 
4 
be 
ie 


Od 
i 
sh 


art 


ae 


5 
4 
A 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. ll 


leagues may seem to be ratified and established, and 
as it were confirmed by the sacrament of the Stygian 
lake ; seeing that it includes the fear of prohibition 
and suspension from the table of the gods, under 
which name the laws and prerogatives, the plenty 
and felicity of a kingdom were signified by the 
ancients. 


PAN, OR NATURE. 


The ancients have exquisitely described Nature 
under the person of Pan, whose original they leave 
doubtful; for some say that he was the son of Mer- 


' eury, others attribute unto him a far different be- 


ginning, affirming him to be the common offspring 
of Penelope’s suitors, upon a suspicion that every one 
of them had to do with her; which latter relation 
doubtless gave occasion to some after writers to en- 
title this ancient fable with the name of Penelope; a 
thing very frequent amongst them when they apply 
old fictions to young persons and names, and that 
many times absurdly and indiscreetly, as may be seen 
here: for Pan, being one of the ancient gods, was long 
before the time of Ulysses and Penelope. Besides, for 
her matronal chastity, she was held venerable by an- 
tiquity. Neither may we pretermit the third con- 
ceit of his birth: for some say that he was the son of 
Jupiter and Hybris, which signifies contumely or dis- 
dain: but howsoever begotten, the Parce, they say, 
were his sisters. He is pourtrayed by the ancients 
in this guise; on his head a pair of horns to reach to 
heaven, his body rough and hairy, his beard long and 


12 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


shaggy, his shape biformed, above like a man, below 
like a beast, his feet like goats’ hoofs; bearing these 
ensigns of his jurisdiction, to wit, in his left hand a 
pipe of seven reeds, and in his right a sheephook, 
or a staff crooked at the upper end, and his mantle 
made of a leopard’s skin. His dignities and offices 
were these : he was the god of hunters, of shepherds, 
and of all rural inhabitants; chief president also of 
hills and mountains ; and, next to Mercury, the am- 
bassador of the gods. Moreover, he was accounted 
the leader and commander of the nymphs, which 
were always wont to dance the rounds, and frisk 
about him: he was accosted by the satyrs and the 
old Sileni. He had power also to strike men with 
terrours, and those especially vain and superstitious, 
which are termed panick fears. His acts were not 
many, for ought that can be found in records; the 
chiefest was, that he challenged Cupid at wrestling, 
in which conflict he had the foil. The tale goes, too, 
how that he caught the giant Typhon in a net, and 
held him fast. Moreover, when Ceres, grumbling 
and chafing that Proserpina was ravished, had hid 
herself away, and that all the gods took pains, by 
dispersing themselves into every corner, to find her out, 
it was only his good hap, as he was hunting, to light 
on her, and acquaint the rest where she was. He 
presumed also to put it to the trial who was the best 
musician, he or Apollo; and by the judgement of 
Midas was indeed preferred : but the wise judge had 
a pair of asses’ ears privily chopped to his noddle for 
his sentence. Of his love tricks there is nothing re- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 13 


_ ported, or at least not much ; a thing to be wondered 
at, especially being among a troop of gods so pro- 
_fusely amorous. This only is said of him, that he 
loved the nymph Echo, whom he took to wife; and 
. one pretty wench more called Syrinx, towards whom 
: Cupid, in an angry and revengeful humour, because 
: so audaciously he had challenged him at wrestling, 
inflamed his desire. Moreover, he had no issue, 
which is a marvel also, seeing the gods, especially 
those of the male kind, were very generative, only he 
was the reputed father of a little girl called Iambe, | 
that with many pretty tales was wont to make 
strangers merry: but some think that he did indeed 
beget her by his wife Iambe. | 
This, if any be, is a noble tale, as being laid out 
_ and big bellied with the secrets and mysteries of na- 
ture. Pan, as his name imports, represents and lays 
open the all of things or nature. Concerning his 
original there are two only opinions that go for cur- 
rent; for either he came of Mercury, that is, the 
Word of God, which the holy Scriptures without all 
controversy affirm, and such of the philosophers as 
had any smack of divinity assented unto, or else 
from the confused seeds of things. For they that 
would have one simple beginning, refer it unto God : 
or if a materiate beginning, they would have it 
_ various in power; so that we may end the contro- 
_versy with this distribution, that the world took 


beginning, either from ‘abil or from the seeds 
| of all things. 


14 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


VIRG. ECLOG. 6, 

‘“‘ Namque canebat uti magnum per inane coacta. 

“« Semina, terrarumque, animeeque marisque fuissent. 

** Et liquidi simul ignis: Et his exordia primis 

‘¢ Omnia et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis.” 

For rich-vein’d Orpheus sweetly did rehearse 

How that the seeds of fire, air, water, earth, 

Were all pact in the vast void universe : 

And how from these, as firstlings, all had birth, 

And how the body of this orbick frame, 

From tender infancy so big became. 

But as touching the third conceit of Pan’s ori- 
ginal, it seems that the Grecians, either by intercourse 
with the Egyptians, or one way or other, had heard 
something of the Hebrew mysteries; for it pomts to 
the state of the world, not considered in immediate 
creation, but after the fall of Adam, exposed and 
made subject to death and corruption ; for in that 
state it was, and remains to this day, the offspring 
of God and sin; and therefore all these three narra- 
tions concerning the manner of Pan’s birth may seem 
to be true, if it be rightly distinguished between 
things and times. For this Pan, or Nature, which we 
inspect, contemplate, and reverence more than is fit, 
took beginning from the word of God by the means 
of confused matter, and the entrance of prevarication 
and corruption. The destinies may well be thought 
the sisters of Pan, or Nature, because the beginnings 
and continuances, and corruptions, and depressions, 
and dissolutions, and eminences, and labours, and 
felicities of things, and all the chances which can 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 15 


happen unto any thing, are linked with the chain of 
causes natural. 

Horns are attributed unto him, because horns 
are broad at the root and sharp at the ends, the na- 
ture of all things being like a pyramis, sharp at the 
top. For individual or singular things being infinite 
are first collected into species, which are many also ; 
then from species into generals, and from generals, 
by ascending, are contracted into things or no- 
tions more general; so that at length Nature 
may seem to be contracted into an unity. Neither 
is it to be wondered at that Pan toucheth heaven 
with his horns, seeing the height of nature or uni- 
versal ideas do in some sort pertain to things divine ; 
and there is a ready and short passage from meta- 
physic to natural theology. 

The body of nature is elegantly and with deep 
judgement depainted hairy, representing the beams 
or operations of creatures ; for beams are, as it were, 
the hairs and bristles of nature ; and every creature Is 
either more or less beamy, which is most apparent in 
the faculty of seeing, and no less in every virtue and 
operation that effectuates upon a distant object ; for 
whatsoever works up any thing afar off, that may 
rightly be said to dart forth rays or beams. 

Moreover, Pan’s beard is said to be exceeding 
long, because the beams or influences of celestial 
bodies do operate and pierce farthest of all; and the 
sun, when his higher half is shadowed with a cloud, 
his beams break out in the lower, and looks as if he 
were bearded. 


Nature is also excellently set forth with a 


16 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


biformed body, with respect to the differences be- 
tween superior and inferior creatures. For one part, 
by reason of their pulchritude and equability of mo- 
tion, and constancy and dominion over the earth and 
earthly things, is worthily set out by the shape of 
man ; and the other part in respect of their pertur- 
bations and unconstant motions, and therefore need- 
ing to be moderated by the celestial, may be well 
fitted with the figure of a brute beast. This descrip- 
tion of his body pertains also to the participation of 
species ; for no natural being seems to be simple, but 
as it were participated and compounded of two; as 
for example, man hath something of a beast, a beast 
something of a plant, a plant something of inanimate 
body, of that all natural things are in very deed 
biformed, that is to say, compounded of a superior 
and inferior species. 

It is a witty allegory that same, of the feet of the 
goat, by reason of the upward tending motion of ter- 
restrial bodies towards the air and heaven; for the 
goat is a climbing creature, that loves to be hanging 
about the rocks and steep mountains; and this is 
done also in a wonderful: manner even by those 
things which are destinated to this inferior globe, as 
may manifestly appear in clouds and meteors. 

The two ensigns which Pan bears in his hands 
do point, the one at harmony, the other at empire: 
for the pipe, consisting of seven reeds, doth evidently. 
demonstrate the consent, and harmony, and dis- 
cordant concord of all inferior creatures, which is 
caused by the motion of the seven planets: and that 
of the sheep-hook may be excellently applied to the y, 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, 17 


order of nature, which is partly right, partly crooked ; 
this staff therefore or rod is specially erooked in the 
upper end, because all the works of divine Provi- 
dence in the world are done in a far fetched and 
circular manner, so that one thing may seem to be 
effected, and yet indeed a clean contrary brought to 
pass, as the selling of Joseph into Egypt, and the like. 
Besides, in all wise human government, they that sit 
at the helm do more happily bring their purposes 
about, and insinuate more easily into the minds of 
the people by pretext and oblique courses than by 
direct methods: so that all sceptres and masses of 
authority ought in very deed to be crooked in the 
upper end. 


—_ Pan’s cloak or mantle is ingeniously feigned to be 


a skin of a leopard, because it is full of spots : so the 


heavens are spotted with stars, the sea with rocks 


and islands, the land with flowers, and every parti- 
cular creature also is for the most part garnished 
with divers colours about the superficies, which is as 
it were a mantle unto it. 

The office of Pan can be by nothing so lively con- 
ceived and expressed, as by feigning him to be the 
god of hunters; for every natural action, and so 
by consequence motion and progression, is nothing 
else but a hunting. Arts and sciences have their 
works, and human counsels their ends, which they 


_ earnestly hunt after. All natural things have either 


their food as a prey, or their pleasure as a recreation 


which they seek for, and that in a most expert and 
sagacious manner. 


18 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


‘“‘ Torva leeena lupum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam. 
“ Florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella. 


The hungry lioness, with sharp desire, 
Pursues the wolf, the wolf the wanton goat: 
The goat again doth greedily aspire 

To have the trefoil juice pass down her throat. 


Pan is also said to be the god of the country- 
clowns; because men of this condition lead lives more 
agreeable unto nature than those that live in the 
cities and courts of princes, where nature, by too 
much art, is corrupted ; so as the saying of the poet, 
though in the sense of love, might be here verified : 


‘“¢ Pars minima est ipsa puella sui.” 


The maid so trick’d herself with art, 
That of herself she is least part. 


He was held to be lord president of the moun- 
tains; because in the high mountains and hills na- 
ture lays herself most open, and men most apt to 
view and contemplation. 

Whereas Pan is said to be, next unto Mercury, 
the messenger of the gods, there is in that a divine 
mystery contained; for, next to the word of God, 
the image of the world proclaims the power and 
wisdom divine, as sings the sacred poet. Psal. xix. 1. 
© Cocli enarrant gloriam Dei atque opera manuum 
“ejus indicat firmamentum.” The heavens declare 
the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth the 
works of his hands. 

The nymphs, that is, the souls of living things, 
take great delight in Pan: for these souls are the 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 19 


delights or minions of nature; and the direction or 
conduct of these nymphs is, with great reason, attri- 
buted unto Pan, because the souls of all things living 
do follow their natural dispositions as their guides ; 
and with infinite variety every one of them, after his 
own fashion, doth leap, and frisk, and dance, with 
incessant motions about her. The satyrs and Sileni 
also, to wit, youth and old age, are some of Pan’s 
followers : for of all natural things, there is a lively, 
jocund, and, as I may say, a dancing age; and an 
age again that is dull, bibling, and reeling. The 
carriages and dispositions of both which ages, to some 
such as Democritus was, that would observe them 
duly, might, peradventure, seem as ridiculous and 
deformed as the gambols of the satyrs, or the ges- 
tures of the Sileni. 

Of those fears and terrours which Pan is said to be 
the author, there may be this wise construction 
made : namely, that nature hath bred in every living 
thing a kind of care and fear tending to the preser- 
vation of its own life and being, and to the repelling 
and shunning of all things hurtful; and yet nature 
knows not how to keep a mean, but always inter- 
mixes vain and empty fears with such as are discreet 
and profitable: so that all things, if their insides 
might be seen, would appear full of panick frights ; 
but men, especially in hard, fearful, and diverse 
times, are wonderfully infatuated with superstition, 
which indeed is nothing else but a panick terrour. 

Concerning the audacity of Pan in challenging 
Cupid at wrestling : the meaning of it is, that matter 


20 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


wants not inclination and desire to the relapsing and 
dissolution of the world into the old chaos, if her 
malice and violence were not restrained and kept in 
order by the prepotent unity and agreement of 
things, signified by Cupid or the god of love; and 
therefore it was a happy turn for men, and all things 
else, that in that conflict Pan was found too weak 
and overcome. 

To the same effect may be interpreted his catch- 
ing of Typhon in a net; for howsoever there may 
sometimes happen vast and unwonted tumours, as 
the name of Typhon imports, either in the sea or in 
the air, or in the earth, or elsewhere ; yet nature doth 
entangle it in an intricate toil, and curb and restrain 
it as it were with a chain of adamant, the excesses 
and insolencies of these kind of bodies. 

But forasmuch as it was Pan’s good fortune to 
find out Ceres as he was hunting, and thought little 
of it, which none of the other gods could do, though 
they did nothing else but seek her, and that very 
seriously, it gives us this true and grave admoni- 
tion, that we expect not to receive things necessary 
for life and manners from philosophical abstractions, 
as from the greater gods; albeit they applied them- 
selves to no other study but from Pan; that is, from 
the discreet observation and experience, and the 
universal knowledge of the things of this world; 
whereby, oftentimes even by chance, and as it were 
going a hunting, such inventions are lighted upon. 

The quarrel he made with Apollo about music, 
and the event thereof, contains a wholesome instruc- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 21 


tion, which may serve to restrain men’s reasons and 
judgements with reins of sobriety, from boasting and 
glorying in their gifts; for there seems to be a two- 
fold harmony or music, the one of divine Providence, 
and the other of human reason. Now to the ears of 
mortals, that is to human judgement, the administra- 
tion of the world and creatures therein, and the more 
secret judgements of God,sound very hard and harsh ; 
_ which folly, albeit it be well set out with asses’ ears, 
yet notwithstanding these ears are secret, and do not 
openly appear ; neither is it perceived or noted as a 
deformity by the vulgar. 

Lastly, it is not to be wondered at, that there is 
nothing attributed unto Pan concerning loves, but 
only of his marriage with Echo; for the world or 
nature doth enjoy itself, and in itself all things else. 
Now he that loves would enjoy something, but where 
there is enough there is no place left to desire ; there- 
fore there can be no wanting love in Pan, or the 
world, nor desire to obtain any thing, seeing he is 
contented with himself, but only speeches, which, 
if plain, may be intimated by the nymph Echo, or, if 
more quaint, by Syrinx. It is an excellent invention 
that Pan, or the world, is said to make choice of 
Echo only, above all other speeches or voices, for his 
wife; for that alone is true philosophy which doth 
faithfully, render the very words of the world ; and it 
is written no otherwise than the world doth dictate, 
it being nothing else but the image or reflection of 
it, not adding any thing of its own, but only iterates 
and resounds. It belongs also to the sufficiency or 


22 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


perfection of the world, that he begets no issue ; for 
the world doth generate in respect of its parts; but 
in respect of the whole, how can it generate, seeing 
without it there is no body ? Notwithstanding all 
this, the tale of that tattling girl faltered upon Pan, 
may in very deed, with great reason, be added to this 
fable ; for by her are represented those vain and idle 
paradoxes concerning the nature of things which 
have been frequent in all ages, and have filled the 
world with novelties; fruitless, if you respect the 
matter ; changelings, if you respect the kind; some- 
times creating pleasure, sometimes tediousness, with 
their overmuch prattling. 


PERSEUS, OR WAR. 


Perseus is said to have been employed by Pallas for 
the destroying of Medusa, who was very infestuous to 
the western parts of the world, and especially about 
the utmost coasts of Hiberia; a monster so dire and 
horrid, that by her only aspect she turned men into 
stones. This Medusa alone of all the Gorgons was mor- 
tal, the rest not subject to death. Perseus, therefore, 
preparing himself for this noble enterprise, had arms 
and gifts bestowed on him by three of the gods; Mer- 
cury gave him wings annexed to his heels, Pluto a 
helmet, Pallas a shield and a looking-glass. Not- 
withstanding, although he were thus furnished, he 
went not directly to Medusa, but first to the Gree, 
which, by the mother’s side, were sisters to the Gor- 
gons. These Grew from their birth were hoar- 
headed, resembling old women; they had but one 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENi». 23 


only eye and one tooth among them all, both which, 
she that had occasion to go abroad, was wont to take 
with her, and at her return to lay them down again. 
This eye and tooth they lent to Perseus; and so find- 
ing himself thoroughly furnished for the effecting of 
his design, hastens towards Medusa. Her he found 
sleeping, and yet durst not present himself with his 
face towards her lest she should awake; but turning 
his head aside beheld her in Pallas’s glass, and, by 
this means directing his blow, cut off her head ; from 
whose blood gushing out, instantly came Pegasus, 
the flying-horse. Her head thus smote off, Perseus 
bestows on Pallas’s shield, which yet retained this 
virtue, that whatsoever looked upon it should become 
as stupid as a stone, or like one planet-strucken. 

This fable seems to direct the preparation and 
order that is to be used in making of war; for the 
more apt and considerate undertaking whereof, three 
grave and wholesome precepts, savouring of the wis- 
dom of Pallas, are to be observed. 

First, That men do not much trouble themselves 
about the conquest of neighbour nations, seeing 
that private possessions and empires are enlarged by 
different means; for in the augmentation of private 
revenues, the vicinity of men’s territories is to be con- 
sidered ; but in the propagation of public dominions, 
the occasion and facility of making war, and the fruit 
to be expected ought to be instead of vicinity. Cer- 
tainly the Romans, what time their conquests to- 
wards the west scarce reached beyond Liguria, did 
yet in the east bring all the provinces as far as the 


24. THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


mountain Taurus within the compass of their arms 
and command; and therefore Perseus, although he 
were bred and born in the east, did not yet refuse 
to undertake an expedition even to the uttermost 
bounds of the west. 

Secondly, There must be a care had, that the 
motives of war be just and honourable ; for that be- 
gets an alacrity as well in the soldiers that fight as 
in the people that pay; it draws on and procures 
aids, and brings many other commodities besides. 
But there is no pretence to take up arms more pious, 
than the suppressing of tyranny ; under which yoke 
the people lose their courage, and are cast down 
without heart and vigour as in the sight of Medusa. 

Thirdly, It is wisely added, that seeing there were 
three Gorgons, by which wars are represented, Per- 
seus undertook her only that was mortal ; that is, he 
made choice of such a kind of war as was likely to 
be effected and brought to a period, not pursuing 
vast and endless hopes. 

The furnishing of Perseus with necessaries was 
that which only advanced his attempt, and drew 
fortune to be of his side; for he had speed from 
Mercury, concealing of his counsels from Orcus, and 
Providence from Pallas. 

Neither is it without an allegory, and that full of 
matter too, that those wings of celerity were fastened 
to Perseus’ heels and not to his ancles, to his feet 
and not to his shoulders; because speed and celerity 
are required, not so much in the first preparations for 
war, as in those things which second and yield aid to 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 95 


_ the first ; for there is no errour in war more frequent 
than that prosecutions and subsidiary forces do fail 
_ to answer the alacrity of the first onsets. 

Now for that helmet which Pluto gave him, 
_ powerful to make men invisible, the moral is plain ; 
but that twofold gift of Providence, to wit, the shield 
and looking-glass, is full of morality; for that kind 
of Providence, which like a shield avoids the force of 
blows, is not alone needful, but that also by which 
the strength and motions and counsels of the enemy 
are descried, as in the looking-glass of Pallas. 

But Perseus, albeit he were sufficiently furnished 
with aid and courage, yet was he to do one thing of 
special importance before he entered the lists with 
this monster, and that was to have some intelligence 
with the Grex. These Gree are treasons which may 
be termed the sisters of war not descended of the 
same stock, but far unlike in nobility of birth; for 
wars are generous and heroical, but treasons are 
base and ignoble. Their description is elegant, for 
they are said to be gray-headed, and like old women 
from their birth, by reason that traitors are conti- 
nually vexed with cares and trepidations. But all 
their strength, before they break out into open re- 
bellions, consists either in an eye or in a tooth; for 
every faction alienated from any state, contemplates 
and bites. Besides, this eye and tooth is as it were 
common ; for whatsoever they can learn and know is 
delivered and carried from one to another by the 
hands of faction. And as concerning the tooth, they 
- do all bite alike, and sing the same song; so that 
VOL. 3. ; D 


26 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


hearone and you hear all. Perseus therefore was to 
deal with these Grex for the love of their eye and 
tooth; their eye to discover, their tooth to sow ru- 
mours and stir up envy, and to molest and trouble 
the minds of men. These things therefore being 
thus disposed and prepared, he addresses himself to 
the action of war, and sets upon Medusa as she slept; 
for a wise captain will ever assault his enemy when | 
he is unprepared and most secure, and then is there 
good use of Pallas’s glass; for most men, before it 
come to the push, can acutely pry into and discern 
their enemies’ estate ; but the best use of this glass is 
in the very point of danger, that the manner of it 
may be so considered that the terrour may not dis- 
courage, which is signified by that looking into this 
glass with the face turned from Medusa. 

The monster’s head being cut off, there follow 
two effects. The first was the procreation and rais- 
ing of Pegasus, by which may be evidently under- 
stood Fame, that, flying through the world, pro- 
claims victory. The second is the bearing of Me- 
dusa’s head in his shield ; to which there is no kind of 
defence for excellency comparable: for the one famous 
and memorable act prosperously effected and brought 
to pass, doth restrain the motions and insolencies of 
enemies, and makes Envy herself silent and amazed. 


ENDYMION, OR A FAVOURITE. 

It is said that Luna was in love with the shep- 
herd Endymion, and in a strange and unwonted 
manner bewrayed her affection; for he lymg in a 
cave framed by nature under the mountain Latmus, 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 27 


she oftentimes descended from her sphere to enjoy 
his company as he slept; and after she had kissed 
him ascended up again. Yet, notwithstanding this, 
his idleness and sleepy security did not any way 
impair his estate or fortune ; for Luna brought it so 
to pass, that he alone, of all the rest of the shepherds, 
had his flock in best plight, and most fruitful. 

This fable may have reference to the nature and 
dispositions of princes; for they being full of doubts 
and prone to jealousy, do not easily acquaint men of 
prying and curious eyes, and as it were of vigilant 
and wakeful dispositions, with the secret humours 
and manners of their life; but such rather as are of 
quiet and observant natures, suffering them to do 
what they list without further scanning, making as 
if they were ignorant, and perceiving nothing but of 
a stupid disposition, and possessed with sleep, yield- 
ing unto them simple obedience rather than sly com- 
pliments ; for it pleaseth princes now and then to 
descend from their thrones or majesty, like Luna 
from the superior orb, and laying aside their robes 
of dignity, which always to be cumbered with, would 
seem a kind of burthen, familiarly to converse with 
men of this condition, which they think may be done 
without danger; a quality chiefly noted in Tiberius 
Cesar, who, of all others, was a prince most severe ; 
yet such only were gracious in his favour, as being 
wellacquainted with his disposition, did yet constantly 
dissemble as if they knew nothing. This was the 
custom also of Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, 
a cautious and wily prince. 


28 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, 


Neither is it without elegancy that the cause of 
Endymion is mentioned in the fable, because that it 
is a thing usual with such as are the favourites of 
princes, to have certain pleasant retiring places 
whither to invite them for recreation both of body 
and mind, and that without hurt or prejudice to their 
fortunes also. And indeed these kind of favourites 
are men commonly well to pass ; for princes, although 
peradventure they promote them not ever to places 
of honour, yet do they advance them sufficiently by 
their favour and countenance : neither do they affect 
them thus only to serve their own turn; but are 
wont to enrich them now and then with great digni- 
ties and bounties. 


THE SISTER OF THE GIANTS, OR FAME. 


It is a poetical relation, that the giants begotten 
of the earth made war upon Jupiter and the other 
gods; and by the force of lightning they were re- 
sisted and overthrown: whereat the earth being ex- 
citated to wrath, in revenge of her children, brought 
forth Fame, the youngest sister of the giants. 


“ Tllam terra parens ira irritata deorum. 


‘* Extremam (ut prohibent) Ceo Enceladoque sororem. 
“ Progenuit” 


Provok’d by wrathful gods, the mother earth 
Gives Fame, the giants’ youngest sister, birth. 


The meaning of the fable seems to be thus: 
By the earth is signified the nature of the vulgar, 
always swollen and malignant, and still broaching 
new scandals against superiors, and having gotten 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 29 


fit opportunity stirs up rebels and seditious persons, 
that with impious courage do molest princes, and 
endeavour to subvert their estates; but being sup- 
pressed, the same natural disposition of the people 
still leaning to the viler sort, being impatient of peace 
and tranquillity, spread rumours, raise malicious 
‘landers, repining whisperings, infamous libels, and 
others of that kind, to the detraction of them that 
are in authority ; so as rebellious actions and sedi- 
tious reports differ nothing in kind and blood, but as 


it were in sex only, the one sort being masculine and 
the other feminine. 


ACTON AND PENTHEUS, OR A CURIOUS 
MAN. 


The curiosity of men in prying into secrets, and 
coveting with an undiscreet desire to attain the know- 
ledge of things forbidden, is set forth by the ancients 
in two other examples, the one of Acton, the other 
of Pentheus. — 

Actzon having unawares, and as it were by 
chance, beheld Diana naked, was turned into a stag, 
and devoured by his own dogs. 

And Pentheus climbing up into a tree with a 
desire to be a spectator of the hidden sacrifices of 
Bacchus, was strucken with such a kind of frenzy, 
as that whatsoever he looked upon, he thought it 
always double, supposing, among other things, he 
saw two suns and two Thebes; insomuch, that 
running towards Thebes, spying another Thebes 
instantly turned back again, and so kept still 


30 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


running forward and backward with perpetual 
unrest. 

‘¢ Eumenidum veluti demens vidit agmina Pentheus. 

“‘ Et solem geminum, duplices se ostendere Thebas.” 


Pentheus amazed, doth troops of Furies spy ; 
And sun and Thebes seem double to his eye. 


The first of the fables pertains to the secrets of 
princes, the second to divine mysteries. For those 
that are near about princes, and come to the know- 
ledge of more secrets than they would have them, do 
certainly incur great hatred: and therefore, suspect- 
ing that they are shot at, and opportunities watched 
for their overthrow, do lead their lives like stags, 
fearful and full of suspicion. And it happens often- 
times that their servants, and those of their house- 
hold, to insinuate into the princes’ favour, do accuse 
them to their destruction, for against whomsoever 
the prince’s displeasure is known, look how many 
servants that man hath, and you shall find them for 
the most part so many traitors unto him, that his end 
may prove to be like Actzon’s. 

The other is the misery of Pentheus; for that 
by the height of knowledge and nature in philoso- 
phy, having climbed as it were into a tree, do with 
rash attempts, unmindful of their frailty, pry into the 
secrets of divine mysteries, and are justly plagued 
with perpetual inconstancy, and with wavering and 
perplexed conceits ; for seeing the light of nature is 
one thing and of grace another; it happens so to 
them as if they saw two suns. And seeing the 
actions of life and decrees of the will to depend on 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. $i 


the understanding, it follows that they doubt, are 
inconstant no less in will than in opinion ; and so in 
like manner they may be said to see two Thebes: 
for by Thebes, seeing there was the habitation and 
refuge of Pentheus, is meant the end of actions. 
Hence it comes to pass that they know not whither 
they go, but.as distracted and unresolved in the 
scope of their intentions, are in all things carried 
about with sudden passions of the mind. 


ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY. 


The tale of Orpheus, though common, had never 
the fortune to be fitly applied in every point. It 
may seem to represent the image of philosophy : for 
the person of Orpheus, a man admirable and divine, 
and so excellently skilled in all kind of harmony, 
that with his sweet ravishing music he did, as it were, 
charm and allure all things to follow him, may carry 
a singular description of philosophy ; for the labours 
of Orpheus do so far exceed the labours of Hercules 
in dignity and efficacy, as the works of wisdom excel 
the works of fortitude. 

Orpheus, for the love he bare to his wife, snatched, 
as it were, from him by untimely death, resolved to 
go down to hell with his harp, to try if he might ob- 
tain her of the infernal power. Neither were his 
hopes frustrated ; for having appeased them with 
the melodious sound of his voice and touch, pre- 
vailed at length so far, as that they granted him 
leave to take her away with him; but on this condi- 
tion, that she should follow him, and he not to look 


32 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


back upon her till he came to the light of the upper 
world ; which he, impatient of, out of love and care, 
and nine that he was in a manner past all dan- 
ger, nevertheless violated, insomuch that the covenant 
is broken, and she forthwith tumbles back again head- 
longintohell. Orpheus falling into a deep melancholy, 
became a contemner of women-kind, and bequeathed 
himself to a solitary life in the deserts; where, by 
the same melody of his voice and harp, he first drew 
all manner of wild beasts unto him, who, forgetful 
of their savage fierceness, and casting off the preci- 
pitate provocations of lust and fury, not caring to 
satiate their voracity by hunting after prey, as at a 
theatre, in fawning and reconciled amity one towards 
another, standing all at the gaze about him, and at- 
tentively lend their ears to his music. Neither is 
this all; for so great was the power and alluring 
force of this harmony, that he drew the woods, and 
moved the very stones to come and place themselves 
in an orderly and decent fashion about him. These 
things succeeding happily, and with great admira- 
tion for a time; at length certain Thracian women, 
possessed with the spirit of Bacchus, made such a 
horrid and strange noise with their cornets, that the 
sound of Orpheus’ harp could no more be heard, in- 
somuch as that harmony, which was the bond of that 
order and society being dissolved, all disorder began 
again, and the beasts returning to their wonted na- 
ture, pursued one another unto death as before; 
neither did the trees or stones remain any longer in 
their places; and Orpheus himself was by these 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 33 


female Furies torn in pieces, and scattered all over 
the desert : for whose cruel death the river Helicon 
sacred to the Muses, in horrible indignation, hid his 
head underground, and raised it again in another 
place. 

The meaning of this fable seems to be thus: 
Orpheus’ music is of two sorts, the one appeasing the 
infernal powers, the other attracting beasts and trees. 
The first may be fitly applied to natural philosophy, 
the second to moral or civil discipline. 

The most noble work of natural philosophy is 
the restitution and renovation of things corruptible ; 
the other, as a lesser degree of it, the preservation of 
bodies in their estates, detaining them from dissolu- 
tion and putrefaction; and if this gift may be in 
mortals, certainly it can be done by no other means 
than by the due and exquisite temper of nature, as 
by the melody and delicate touch of an instrument ; 
but seeing it is of all things most difficult, it is sel- 
dom or never attained unto; and in all likelihood for 
no other reason, more than through curious dili- 
gence and untimely impatience; and therefore phi- 
losophy hardly able to produce so excellent an effect 
in a pensive humour, and that without cause, busies 
herself about human objects, and by persuasion and 
eloquence insinuating the love of virtue, equity, and 
concord, in the minds of men, draws multitudes of 
people to a society, makes them subject to laws, obe- 
dient to government, and forgetful of their unbridled 
affections, whilst they give ear to precepts, and sub- 
mit themselves to discipline ; whence follows the 


34 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


building of houses, erecting of towns, planting of 
fields and orchards with trees, and the like; inso- 
much, that it would not be amiss to say, that even 
thereby stones and woods were called together and 
settled in order. And after serious trial made and 
frustrated about the restoring of a body mortal, this 
care of civil affairs follows in his due place; because, 
by a plain demonstration of the inevitable necessity 
of death, men’s minds are moved to seek eternity by 
the fame and glory of their merits. It is also wisely 
said in the fable, that Orpheus was averse from the 
love of women and marriage, because the delights of 
wedlock and the love of children do for the most part 
hinder men from enterprising great and noble designs 
for the public good, holding posterity a sufficient step 
to immortality without actions. 

Besides even. the very works of wisdom, although 
amongst all human things they do most excel, do 
nevertheless meet with their periods. For it happens 
that, after kmgdoms and commonwealths have flou- 
rished for a time, even tumults, and seditions, and 
wars arise; in the midst of which hurly-burlies first 
laws are silent, men return to the pravity of their 
natures; fields and towns are wasted and depopt- . 
lated ; and then, if their fury continue, learning and 
philosophy must needs be dismembered, so that a few 
fragments only in some places will be found like the 
scattered boards of shipwreck, so as a barbarous 
age must follow ; and the streams of Helicon being 
hid under the earth, until the vicissitude of things 
passing, they break out again and appear in some 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 35 


other remote nation, though not perhaps in the 
same climate. 


CQZLUM, OR BEGINNINGS. 


We have it from the poets by tradition, that 
Coelum was the ancientest of the gods, and that his 
members of generation were cut off by his son Saturn, 
Saturn had many children, but devoured them as 
soon as they were born; Jupiter only escaped, who 
being come to man’s estate, thrust Saturn his father 
into hell, and so usurped the kingdom. Moreover, 
he pared off his father’s genitals with the same 
faulchion that Saturn dismembered Ccelum, and cast 
them into the sea, from whence came Venus. Not 
long after this, Jupiter, being scarce settled and 
confirmed in this kingdom, was invaded by two me- 
morable wars: the first of the Titans, in the sup- 
pressing of which Sol, who alone of all the Titans 
favouring Jupiter's side, took exceeding great pains. 
The second was of the giants, whom Jupiter himself 
destroyed with thunderbolts ; and so all wars being 
ended, he reigned secure. 

This fable seems enigmatically to shew from 
whence all things took their beginning, not much 
differing from that opinion of philosophers, which 
Democritus afterwards laboured to maintain, attri- 
buting eternity to the first matter and not to the 
world ; in which he comes somewhat near the truth 
of divine writ, telling us of a huge deformed mass, 
before the beginning of the six days’ work. 

The meaning of the fable is this: by Ccelum may 


36 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


be understood that vast concavity or vaulted compass 
that comprehends all matter; and by Saturn may 
be meant the matter itself, which takes from his 
parent all power of generating ; for the universality 
or whole bulk of matter always remains the same, 
neither increasing or diminishing in respect of the 
quality of its nature; but by the divers agitations 
and motions of it were first produced imperfect, and 
ill agreeing compositions of things, making, as it 
were, certain worlds for proofs or essays, and so in. 
process of time a perfect fabric or structure was 
framed, which would still retain and keep his form : 
and therefore the government of the first age was 
shadowed by the kingdom of Saturn, who for the 
frequent dissolutions and short continuances of things 
was aptly feigned to devour his children. The suc- 
ceeding government was deciphered by the reign of 
Jupiter, who confined those continual mutations unto 
Tartarus, a place signifying perturbation. This 
place seems to be all that middle place between the 
lower superficies of heaven and the centre of the 
earth, in which all perturbations, and fragility, and 
mortality or corruption are frequent. During the 
former generation of things in the time of Saturn’s 
reign Venus was not born; for so Jong as in the uni- 
versality of matter, discord was better and more pre- 
valent than concord, it was necessary that there 
should be a total dissolution or mutation, and that in 
the whole fabric; and by this kind of generation 
were creatures produced before Saturn was deprived 
of his genitals. When this ceased, that other which 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 37 


was wrought by Venus immediately came in, consist- 
ing in settled and prevalent concord of things, so that 
mutation should be only in respect of the parts, the 
universal fabric remaining whole and inviolate. 
Saturn, they say, was deposed and cast down 
into hell, but not destroyed and utterly extinguished ; 
because there was an opinion that the world should 
relapse into the old chaos and interregnum again, 
which Lucretius prayed might not happen in his time: 


‘€ Quod procul a nobis flectat fortuna gubernans ; 
‘+ Et ratio potius quam res persuadeat ipsa.” 


O, guiding Providence be gracious, 

That this dooms-day be far remov’d from us; 
And grant, that by us it may be expected, 
Rather than on us, in our times effected. 


For afterwards the world should subsist by its 
own quantity and power: yet from the beginning 
there was no rest; for in the celestial regions there 
first followed notable mutations, which by the power 
of the sun, predominating over superior bodies, were 
so quieted, that the state of the world should be con- 
served ; and afterward, in inferior bodies, by the sup- 
pressing and dissipating of inundations, tempests, 
winds, and general earthquakes, a more peaceful 
durable agreement and tranquillity of things fol- 
lowed. But of this fable it may convertibly be said, 
that the fable contains philosophy, and philosophy 
again the fable: for we know by faith, that 
all these things are nothing else but the long- 
since ceasing and failing oracles of sense, seeing that 


38 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


both the matter and fabric of the world are most 
truly referred to a Creator. 


PROTEUS, OR MATTER. 


The poets say that Proteus was Neptune’s herds- 
man; a grave sire, and so excellent a prophet, that 
he might well be termed thrice excellent: for he 
knew not only things to come, but even things past 
as well as present; so that besides his skill in divi- 
nation, he was the messenger and interpreter of all 
antiquities and hidden mysteries. The place of his 
abode was a huge vast cave, where his custom was 
every day at noon to count his flock of sea-calves, 
and then to goto sleep. Moreover, he that desired his 
advice in any thing, could by no other means obtain 
it, but by catching him in manacles, and holding him 
fast therewith; who, nevertheless, to be at liberty, 
would turn himself into all manner of forms and 
wonders of nature; sometimes into fire, sometimes 
into water, sometimes into the shape of beasts, and 
the like, till at length he were restored to his own 
form again. 

This fable may seem to unfold the secrets of na- 
ture and the properties of matter. For under the 
person of Proteus, the first matter, which, next to 
God, is the ancientest thing, may be represented ; 
for matter dwells in the concavity of heaven as 
in a cave. 

He is Neptune’s bond-man, because the opera- 
tions and dispensations of matter are chiefly exercised 


in liquid bodies. 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 39 


His flock or herd seems to be nothing but the 
ordinary species of sensible creatures, plants, and 
metals, in which matter seems to diffuse and, as it 
were, spend itself; so that after the forming and per- 
fecting of these kinds, having ended as it were her 
task, she seems to sleep and take her rest, not at- 
tempting the composition of any more species. And 
this may be the moral of Proteus counting of his 
flock, and of his sleeping. 

Now this is said to be done, not in the morning 
nor in the evening, but at noon ; to wit, at such time 
as is most fit and convenient for the perfecting and 
bringing forth of species out of matter duly pre- 
pared and predisposed ; and in the middle, as it were> 
between their beginning and declinations, which we 
know sufficiently, out of the holy history, to be done 
' about the time of the creation ; for then by the power 
of that divine word (producat) matter at the Creator’s 
command did congregate itself, not by ambages or 
turnings, but instantly, to the production of its work 
into an act and constitution of species: and thus 
far have we the narration of Proteus, free and unre- 
strained, together with his flock complete ; for the 
universality of things, with their ordinary structures 
and compositions of species, bears the face of matter 
not limited and constrained, and of the flock also of 
material beings. Nevertheless, if any expert minister 
of nature shall encounter matter by main force, vex- 
ing and urging her with intent and purpose to re- 
duce her to nothing, she contrariwise, seeing anni- 
hilation and absolute destruction cannot be effected 


40 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


by the omnipotency of God, being thus caught in the 
straits of necessity, doth change and turn herself into 
divers strange forms and shapes of things, so that at 
length, by fetching a circuit as it were, she comes to 
a period, and, if the force continue, betakes herself 
to her former being. The reason of which constraint 
or binding will be more facile and expedite, if matter 
be laid on by manacles, that is, by extremities. 

Now whereas it is feigned that Proteus was a 
prophet, well skilled in three differences of times, it 
hath an excellent agreement with the nature of mat- 
ter: for it is necessary that he that will know the 
properties and proceedings of matter, should com- 
prehend in his understanding the sum of all things 
_ which have been, which are, or shall be, although no 
knowledge can extend so far as to singular and indi- 
vidual beings. 


MEMNON, OR A YOUTH TOO FORWARD. 


The poets say that Memnon was the son of 
Aurora, who, adorned with beautiful armour, and 
animated with popular applause, came to the 
Trojan war: where, in rash boldness, hasting 
into, and thirsting after glory, he enters into single 
combat with Achilles, the valiantest of all the Gre- 
cians, by whose powerful hand he was there slain. 
But Jupiter pitying his destruction, sent birds to 
modulate certain lamentable and doleful notes at the 
solemnization of his funeral obsequies. Whose 
statue also, the sun reflecting on it with his morning 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 44 


beams, did usually, as is reported, send forth a 
mournful sound. 

This fable may be applied to the unfortunate 
destinies of hopeful young men, who like the sons of 
Aurora, puffed up with the glittering shew of vanity 
and ostentation, attempt actions above their strength, 
and provoke and press the most valiant heroes to 
combat with them, so that meeting with their over- 
match, are vanquished and destroyed, whose un- 
timely death is oft accompanied with much pity and 
commiseration. For among all the disasters that 
can happen to mortals, there is none so lamentable 
and so powerful to move compassion as the flower of 
virtue cropped with too sudden a mischance. Neither 
hath it been often known that men in their green 
years become so loathsome and odious, as that at 
their deaths either sorrow is stinted, or commisera- 
tion moderated : but that lamentation and mourning 
do not only flutter about their obsequies like those 
funeral birds, but this pitiful commiseration doth 
continue for a long space, and specially by occasions 
and new motions, and beginning of great matters, 
as it were by the morning rays of the sun, their 
passions and desires are renewed. 


TITHONUS, OR SATIETY. 


It is elegantly feigned that Tithonus was the 
paramour of Aurora, who, desirous to enjoy his 
company, petitioned Jupiter that he might never 
die, but, through womanish oversight, forgetting to 
insert this clause in her petition, that he might not 

VOL. 3. E 


42 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. | 


withal grow old and feeble, it followed, that he was 
only freed from the condition of mortality; but for 
old age, that came upon him in a marvellous and 
miserable fashion, agreeable to the state of those 
who cannot die, yet every day grow weaker and 
weaker with age. Insomuch that Jupiter, in com- 
miseration of that his misery, did at length meta- 
morphose him into a grass-hopper. 

This fable seems to be an ingenious character or 
description of pleasure, which in the beginning, and 
as it were in the morning, seems to be pleasant and 
delightful, that men desire they might enjoy and 
monopolize it for ever unto themselves, unmindful 
of that satiety and loathing, which, like old age, 
will come upon them before they be aware. And so 
at last, when the use of pleasure leaves men, the 
desire and affection not yet yielding unto death, 
it comes to pass that men please themselves only by 
talking and commemorating those things which 
brought pleasure unto them in the flower of their 
age, which may be observed in libidinous persons, 
and also in men of military professions: the one de- 
lighting in beastly talk, the other boasting of their 
valourous deeds, like grass-hoppers, whose vigour 
consists only in their voice. 


JUNO’S SUITOR, OR BASENESS. 


The poets say, that Jupiter, to enjoy his lustful 
delights, took upon him the shape of sundry crea- 
tures, as of a bull, of an eagle, of a swan, and of a 
golden shower: but being a suitor to Juno he came 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 43 


in a form most ignoble and base, an object full of 
contempt and scorn, resembling indeed a miserable 
cuckoo, weather-beaten with rain and tempest, 
numbed, quaking, and half dead with cold. 

This fable is wise, and seems to be taken out of 
the bowels of morality ; the sense of it being this, 
that men boast not too much of themselves, think- 
ing by ostentation of their own worth to insinuate 
themselves into estimation and favour with men. 
The success of such intentions being for the most 
part measured by the nature and disposition of those 
to whom men sue for grace: who, if of themselves 
they be endowed with no gifts and ornaments of na- 
ture, but are only of haughty and malignant spirits, 
intimated by the person of Juno, then are suitors to 
know that it is good policy to omit all kind of ap- 
pearance that may any way shew their own least 
praise or worth; and that they much deceive them- 
selves in taking any other course. Neither is it 
enough to shew deformity in obsequiousness, unless 
they also appear even abject and base in their very 
persons. 


CUPID, OR AN ATOM. 


That which the poets say of Cupid, or Love, 
cannot properly be attributed to one and the self 
same person, and yet the difference i is such, that, by 
rejecting the confusion of persons, the similitude 
may be received. 

They say that Love is the ancientest of all the 
gods, and of all things else except chaos, which they 


44. THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


hold to be a contemporary with it. Now, as touch- 
ing chaos, that by the ancients was never dignified 
with divine honour, or with the title of the god. 
And as for Love, they absolutely bring him in with- 
out a father; only some are of opinion, that he came 
of an egg that was laid by Nox, and that on chaos 
he begat the god and all things else. There are 
four things attributed to him, perpetual infancy, 
blindness, nakedness, and an archery. There was 
also another Love, which was the youngest of the 
gods, and he, they say, was the son of Venus. On 
this also they bestow the attributes of the elder 
Love, as in some sort we will apply unto him. 

This fable tends and looks to the cradle of na- 
‘ture, Love seeming to be the appetite or desire of 
the first matter, or, to speak more plain, the natural 
motion of the atom, which is that ancient and only 
power that forms and fashions all things out of 
matter, of which there is no parent, that is to say, 
no cause, seeing every cause is as a parent to its 
effect. Of this power or virtue there can be no 
cause in nature, as for God we always except him, 
for nothing was before it, and therefore no efficient 
cause of it. Neither was there any thing better 
known to nature, and therefore neither genus nor 
form. Wherefore whatsoever it is, positive it is, and 
but inexpressible. -Moreover, if the manner and 
proceeding of it were to be conceived, yet could it 
not be by any cause, seeing that, next unto God, it 
is the cause of causes, itself only without any cause. 
And perchance there is no likelihood that the 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. . 45 


manner of it may be contained or comprehended 
within the narrow compass of human search. Not 
without reason therefore it is feigned to come of an_ 
egg which was laid by Nox. Certainly the divine 
philosopher grants so much. Eccl. i. 11. “Cuncta 
“ fecit tempestatibus suis pulchra, et mundum tra- 
* didit disputationibus eorum, ita tamen ut non 
“ inveniat homo opus, quod operatus est Deus, prin- 
“ cipio ad finem.” That is, he hath made every thing 
beautiful in their seasons, also he hath set the world 
in their meditations, yet man cannot find the work 
that God hath wrought, from the beginning even to 
the end. For the principal law of nature, or power 
of this desire, created, by God, in these parcels of 
things, for concurring and meeting together, from 
whose repetitions and multiplications all variety of 
creatures proceeded and were composed, may dazzle 
the eyes of men’s understandings, and comprehended 
it can hardly be. The Greek philosophers are 
observed to be very acute and diligent in searching 
out the material principles of things: but in the be- 
ginnings of motion, wherein consists all the efficacy 
of operation, they are negligent and weak, and in 
this that we handle, they seem to be altogether 
blind and stammering: for the opinion of the Peri- 
pateticks concerning the appetite of matter caused 
by privation, is in a manner nothing else but words, 
which rather sound than signify any reality. And 
those that refer it unto God do very well, but then 
they leap up, they ascend not by degrees : for doubt- 
less there is one chief law subordinate to God, in 


46 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


which all natural things concur and meet, the same 
that in the fore-cited scripture is demonstrated in 
these words, “‘ Opus, quod operatus est Deus a princi- 
“piousquead finem,” the work that God hath wrought 
from the beginning even to the end. But Demo- 
critus which entered more deeply into the considera- 
tion of this point, after he had conceived an atom 
with some small dimension and form, he attributed 
unto it one only desire, or first motion simply or ab- 
solutely, and another comparatively or in respect: 
for he thought that all things did properly tend to 
the centre of the world, whereof those bodies which 
were more material, descend with swifter motion, 
and those that had less matter did on the contrary 
tend upward. But this meditation was very shallow, 
containing less than was expedient: for neither the 
turning of the celestial bodies in a round, nor 
shutting and opening of things may seem to be re- 
duced or applied to this beginning. And as for that 
opinion of Epicurus concerning the casual declination 
and agitation of the atom, it is but a mere toy, and 
a plain evidence, that he was ignorant of that point. 
It is therefore more apparent, than we could wish, 
that this Cupid, or Love, remains as yet clouded 
under the shades of night. Now as concerning his 
attributes: he is elegantly described with perpetual 
infancy or childhood, because compound bodies they 
seem greater and more stricken in years; whereas 
the first seeds of things or atoms, they are little and 
diminute, and always in their infancy. 

He is also well feigned to be naked, because all 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 47 


compound bodies to a man rightly judging, seem to 
be apparelled and cloathed, and nothing to be pro- 
perly naked but the first particles of things. 

Concerning his blindness, the allegory is full of 
wisdom: for this. love, or desire, whatsoever it be, 
seems to have but little providence, as directing his 
pace and motion by that which it perceives nearest, 
not unlike blind men that go by feeling: more 
admirable then must that chief divine providence be, 
which, from things empty and destitute of provi- 
dence, and as it were blind, by a constant and fatal 
law produceth so excejlent an order and beauty of 
things. 

The last thing which is attributed unto Love is 
archery, by which is meant, that his virtue is such, 
as that it works upon a distant object: because that 
whatsoever operates afar off, seems to shoot, as it 
were, an arrow. Wherefore whosoever holds the 
being both of atoms and vacuity, must needs infer, 
that the virtue of the atom reacheth to a distant 
object; for if it were not so, there could be no 
motion at all, by reason of the interposition of 
vacuity, but all things would stand stone still, and 
remain immoveable. 

Now as touching that other Cupid, or Love, he 
may well be termed the youngest of the gods, be- 
cause he could have no being, before the constitution 
of species. And in his description the allegory may 
be applied and traduced to manners: nevertheless 
he holds some kind of conformity with the elder; 
for Venus doth generally stir up a desire of conjunc- 


48 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


tion and procreation, and Cupid her son doth apply 
this desire to some individual nature; so that the 
general disposition comes from Venus, the more 
exact sympathy from Cupid: the one derived from 
causes more near, the other from beginnings more 
remote and fatal, and as it were from the elder 
Cupid, of whom every exquisite sympathy doth 
depend. 


DIOMEDES, OR ZEAL. 


Diomedes flourishing with great fame and glory 
in the Trojan wars, and in high favour with Pallas, 
was by her instigated, being indeed forwarder than 
he should have been, not to forbear Venus a jot, if 
he encountered with her in fight; which very boldly 
he performed, wounding her inthe rightarm. This 
presumptuous fact he carried clear for a while, and 
being honoured and renowned for his many heroic 
deeds, at last returned into his own country, where 
finding himself hard bestead with domestic troubles, 
fled into Italy, betaking himself to the protection of 
foreigners, where in the beginning he was fortunate, 
and royally entertained by King Daunus with sump- 
tuous gifts, raismg many statues in honour of him 
throughout his dominions. But upon the very first 
calamity that happened‘unto this nation, whereunto 
he was fled for succour, King Daunus enters into a 
conceit with himself that he had entertained a wicked 
guest into his family, and a man odious to the god- 
dess, and an impugner of their divinity, that. had 
dared, with his sword, to assault and wound that 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 49 


goddess, who, in their religion, they held it sacrilege 
so much as to touch. Therefore, that he might ex- 
piate his country’s guilt, nothing respecting the 
duties of hospitality, when the bonds of religion tied 
him with a more reverend regard, suddenly slew 
Diomedes, commanding withal that his trophies and 
statues should be abolished and destroyed. Neither 
was it safe to lament this miserable destiny; but 
even his companions in arms, whilst they mourned 
at the funeral of their captain, and filled all the 
places with plaints and lamentations, were suddenly — 
metamorphosed into birds like unto swans, who 
when their death approacheth, sing melodious and 
mournful hymns. | 

This fable hath a most rare and singular subject: 
for in any of the poetical records, wherein the heroes 
are mentioned, we find not that any one of them, 
besides Diomedes, did ever with his sword offer vio- 
lence to any of the deities. And indeed, the fable 
seems in him to represent the nature and fortune of 
man, who of himself doth propound and make this as 
the end of all his actions, to worship some divine 
power, or to follow some sect of religion, though 
never so vain and superstitious, and with force and 
arms to defend the same: for although those bloody 
quarrels for religion were unknown to ancients, the 
heathen gods not having so much as a touch of that 
jealousy, which is an attribute of the true God, yet 
the wisdom of the ancient times seems to be so 
copious and full, as that, what was not known by 
experience, was yet comprehended by meditations 


50 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


and fictions. They then that endeavour to reform 
and convince any sect of religion, though vain, cor- 
rupt, and infamous, shadowed by the person of 
Nenus, not by the force of argument and doctrine, 
and holiness of life, and by the weight of examples 
and authority, but labour to extirpate and root it 
out by fire and sword, and tortures, are encouraged, 
it may be, thereunto by Pallas, that is, by the acrity 
of prudence, and severity of judgment, by whose | 
vigour and efficacy, they see into the falsity and 
vanity of these errors. And by this their hatred of 
pravity, and good zeal to religion, they purchase to 
themselves great glory, and by the vulgar, to whom 
nothing moderate can be grateful, are esteemed 
and honoured as the only supporters of truth and 
religion, when others seem to be lukewarm and full 
of fear. Yet this glory and happiness doth seldom 
endure to the end, seeing every violent prosperity, if 
it prevent not alteration by an untimely death, grows 
to be unprosperous at last: for if it happen that by 
a change of government this banished and depressed 
sect get strength, and so bear up again, then these 
zealous men, so fierce in opposition before, are con- 
demned, their very names are hateful, and all their 
glory ends in obloquy. 

In that Diomedes is said to be murdered by his 
host, it gives us to understand that the difference of 
religion breeds deceit and treachery, even among 
nearest acquaintance. 

Now in that lamentation and mourning was not 
tolerated but punished; it puts us in mind, that let 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 51 


there be never so nefarious an act done, yet there is 
some place left for commiseration and pity, that even 
those that hate offences should yet in humanity 
commiserate offenders and pity their distress, it 
being the extremity of evil when mercy is not suf- 
fered to have commerce with misery. Yea, even in 
the cause as well of religion as impiety, many men 
may be noted and observed to have been compas- 
sionate. But on the contrary the complaints and 
moans of Diomedes’ followers, that is, of men of the 
same sect and opinion, are wont to be shrill and 
loud, like swans, or the birds of Diomedes. In 
whom also that part of the allegory is excellent, to 
signify, that the last words of those that suffer death 
for religion, like the songs of dying swans, do won- 
derfully work upon the minds of men, and strike and 
remain a long time in their senses and memories. 


DADALUS, OR MECHANIC. 

Mechanical wisdom and industry, and in it un- 
lawful science perverted to wrong ends, is shadowed 
by the ancients under the person of Daedalus, a 
man ingenious, but execrable. This Dedalus, for 
murdering his fellow servant that emulated him, 
being banished, was kindly entertained, during his 
exile, in many cities and princes’ courts: for indeed 
he was the raiser and builder of many goodly struc- 
tures, as well in honour of the gods, as the beauty 
and magnificence of cities, and other public places, 
but for his works of mischief he is most notorious. 
It is he that framed the engine which Pasiphaé used 


52 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


to satisfy her lust in company with a bull, so that by 
his wretched industry, and pernicious device, that 
monster Minotaur, the destruction of so many hope- 
ful youths, took his accursed and infamous begin- | 
ning; and studying to cover and increase one mischief 
with another, for the security and preservation of 
this monster he invented and built a labyrinth, a 
work for intent and use most nefarious and wicked, 
for skill and workmanship, famous and excellent. 
Afterwards, that he might not be noted only for 
works of mischief, but be sought after as well for 
remedies, as for instruments of destruction, he was 
the author of that ingenious device concerning the 
clue of thread, by which the labyrinth was made 
passable without any let. This Daedalus was per- 
secuted by Minos with great severity, diligence, and. 
inquiry, but he always found the means to avoid and 
escape his tyranny. Lastly, he taught his son Icarus 
to fly, but the novice, in ostentation of this art, 
soaring too high, fell into the sea and was drowned. 

The parable seems to be thus: in the beginning 
of it may be noted that kind of envy or emulation 
that lodgeth, and wonderfully sways and domineers 
amongst excellent artificers, there being no kind of 
people more reciprocally tormented with bitter and 
deadly hatred than they. 

The banishment also of Daedalus, a punishment 
inflicted on him against the rules of policy and pro- 
vidence, is worth the noting: for artificers have this 
prerogative to find entertainment and welcome in 
all countries, so that exile to an excellent workman 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 53 


can hardly be termed a punishment, whereas other 
conditions and states of life can scarce live out of 
their own country. The admiration of artificers is 
propagated and increased in foreign and strange 
nations, seeing it is a natural and inbred disposition 
of men to value their own countrymen, in respect of 
mechanical works, less than strangers. 

Concerning the use of mechanical arts, that 
which follows is plain. The life of man is much be- 
holden to them, seeing many things, conducing to 
the ornament of religion, to the grace of civil disci- 
pline, and to the beautifying of all human kind, are 
extracted out of their treasuries: and yet notwith- 
standing, from the same magazine or store-house are 
produced instruments both of lust and death; for to 
omit the wiles of bands, we well know how far ex- 
quisite poisons, warlike engines, and such like mis- 
chiefs, the effects of mechanical inventions, do 
exceed the Minotaur himself in malignity and 
savage cruelty. 

Moreover that of the labyrinth is an excellent 
allegory, whereby is shadowed the nature of mecha- 
nical sciences, for all such handicraft works as are 
more ingenious and accurate, may be compared to a 
labyrinth, in respect of subtilty and divers intricate 
passages, and in other plain resemblances, which by 
the eye of judgement can hardly be guided and 
discerned, but only by the line of experience. 

Neither is it impertinently added, that he which 
invented the intricate nooks of the labyrinth, did also 
shew the commodity of the clue: for mechanical arts 


54 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, 


are of ambiguous use, serving as well for hurt as for 
remedy, and they have in a manner power both to 
loose and bind themselves. 

Unlawful trades, and so by consequence, arts 
themselves, are often persecuted by Minos, that is by 
laws, which do condemn them, and prohibit men to 
use them. Nevertheless they are hid and retained 
every where, finding lurking holes and places of 
receit, which was well observed by Tacitus of the 
mathematicians and figure-flingers of his time, in a 
thing not so much unlike ; “ Genus hominum quod in 
“ civitate nostra semper et retinebitur et vetabitur.” 
There is a kind of men that will always abide in our 
city, though always forbidden. And yet notwith- 
standing unlawful and curious arts of what kind 
soever, in tract of time, when they cannot perform 
what they promise, do fall from the good opinion 
that was held of them, no otherwise than Icarus fell 
down from the skies, they grow to be contemned and 
scorned, and so perish by too much ostentation. And 
to say the truth, they are not so happily restrained 

by the reins of law, as bewrayed by their own vanity. 


ERICTHONIUS, OR IMPOSTURE. 


The poets fable that Vulcan solicited Minerva — 
for her virginity, and impatient of denial, with an 
inflamed desire, offered her violence, but in stru goling 
his seed fell upon the ground, whereof came Eric- 
thonius, whose body, from the middle upward, was — 
of a comely and apt proportion, but his thighs and 
legs like the tail of an eel, small and deformed. ‘To 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 55 


which monstrosity, he being conscious, became the 
first inventor of the use of chariots, whereby that 
part of his body which was well proportioned might 
be seen, and the other which was ugly and uncomely 
might be hid. 

This strange and prodigious fiction may seem to 
shew that art, which, for the great use it hath of fire, 
is shadowed by Vulcan, although it labour by much 
striving with corporeal substances to force nature, 
and to make her subject to it, she being for her in- 
dustrious works rightly represented by Minerva, 
yet seldom or never attains the end it ‘aims at, but 
with much ado and great pains, wrestling as it 
were with her, comes short of its purpose, and pro- 
duceth certain imperfect births, and lame works, fair 
to the eye, but weak and defective in use, which 
many impostors, with much subtilty and deceit, set 
to view, and carry about, as it were in triumph, as 
may for the most part be noted in chemical produc- 
tions, and other mechanical subtilties and novelties, 
especially when, rather prosecuting their intent, 
than reclining their errors, they rather strive to 
overcome nature by force ; than sue for her embrace- 
ments by due obsequiousness and observance. 


DEUCALION, OR RESTITUTION. 


The poets say that the people of the old world — 
being destroyed by a general deluge, Deucalion and 
Pyrrha were only left alive; who praying with fer- 
vent and zealous devotion, that they might know by 
what means to repair mankind, had answer from an 


/ 


56 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


oracle that they should obtain what they desired, if 
taking the bones of their mother they cast them be- 
hind their backs; which at first struck them with 
great amazement and despair, seeing, all things 
being defaced by the flood, it would be an endless 
work to find their mother’s sepulchre, but at length 
they understood that by bones, the stones of the 
earth, seeing the earth was the mother of all things, 
were signified by the oracle. 

This fable seems to reveal a secret of nature, 
and to correct an error familiar to men’s conceits: 
for through want of knowledge men think that 
things may take renovation and restoration from 
their putrefaction and dregs, no otherwise than 
the phoenix from the ashes, which in no case can be 
admitted, seeing such kind of materials, when they 
have fulfilled their periods, are unapt for the begin- 
nings of such things: we must therefore look back 


to more common principles. 


NEMESIS, OR THE VICISSITUDE OF 
THINGS. 


Nemesis is said to be a goddess venerable unto 
all, but to be feared of none but potentates and For- . 
tune’s favourites. She is thought to be the daughter 
of Oceanus and Nox. She is pourtrayed with wings 
on her shoulders, and on her head a coronet, bearing 
in her right hand a javelin of ash, and in her left a 
pitcher with the similitudes of Asthiopians eugraven 
on it; and lastly, she is described sitting on an 


hart. 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 57 


The parable may be thus unfolded. Her name 
Nemesis doth plainly signify revenge or retribution, 
her office and administration being, like a tribune of 
the people, to hinder the constant and perpetual 
felicity of happy men, and to interpose her word, 
“ veto,” I forbid the continuance of it; that is, not only 
to chastise insolency, but to intermix prosperity, 
though harmless, and in a mean, with the vicissi- 
tudes of adversity, as if it were a custom, that no 
mortal man should be admitted to the table of the 
gods but for sport. Truly when I read that chapter, 
wherein Caius Plinius hath collected his misfortunes 
and miseries of Augustus Cesar, whom of all men I 
thought the most happy, who had also a kind of art 
to use and enjoy his fortune, and in whose mind might 
be noted neither pride, nor lightness, nor niceness, 
nor disorder, nor melancholy, as that he had ap- 
pointed a time to die of his own accord, I then deemed 
this goddess to be great and powerful, to whose altar 
so worthy a sacrifice as this was drawn. 

The parents of this goddess were Oceanus and 
Nox, that is, the vicissitude of things and divine 
judgement obscure and secret: for the alteration of 
things are aptly represented by the sea, in respect 
of the continual ebbing and flowing of it, and hidden 
providence is well set forth by the night: for even 
the nocturnal Nemesis, seeing human judgement 
differs much from divine, was seriously observed by 
the heathen. 


Virgil Mneid. lib. 2. 


¢ Cadit et Ripheus justissimus unus, 
VOL. 3. F 


58 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


“* Qui fuit ex Teucris, et servantissimus equi. 


‘¢ Diis aliter visum fs 


That day, by Greekish force, was Ripheus slain, 
So just and strict observer of the law, 

As Troy, within her walls, did not contain 

A better man: Yet God then good it saw. 


She is described with wings, because the changes 
of things are so sudden, as that they are seen, before 
foreseen: for in the records of all ages, we find it 
for the most part true, that great potentates, and 
wise men, have perished by those misfortunes which 
they most contemned; as may be observed in 
Marcus Cicero, who being admonished by Decius 
Brutus of Octavius Cesar’s hypocritical friendship 
and hollow-heartedness towards him, returns this 
answer, “ Te autem, mi Brute, sicut debeo, amo, quod 
“istud quicquid est nugarum me scire voluisti.” I must 
ever acknowledge myself, dear Brutus, beholden to 
thee, in love, for that thou hast been so careful to ac- 
quaint me with that which I esteem but as a needless 
trifle to be doubted. 

Nemesis is also adorned with a coronet, to shew 
the envious and malignant disposition of the vulgar, 
for when fortune’s favourites and great potentates 
come to ruin, then do the common people rejoice, 
setting, as it were, a crown upon the head of re- 
venge. 

The javelin in her right hand points at those 
whom she actually strikes and pierceth thorough. 

And before those whom she destroys not in their 
calamity and misfortune, she ever presents that black 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 359 


and dismal spectacle in her left hand: for question- 
less to men sitting as it were upon the pinnacle of 
prosperity, the thoughts of death, and painfulness of 
sickness and misfortunes, perfidiousness of friends, 
treachery of foes, change of estate, and such like, 
seem as ugly to the eye of their meditations, as those 
Ethiopians pictured in Nemesis’ pitcher. Virgil in 
describing the battle of Actium speaks thus elegantly 
of Cleopatra. 


“ Regina in mediis patrio vocat agmina sistro 
‘* Nec dum etiam geminos 4 tergo respicit angues.” 


The queen amidst this hurly-burly stands, 

And with her country timbrel calls her bands; 
Not spying yet, where crawl’d behind her back, 
Two deadly snakes with venom speckled black. 


But not long after, which way soever she turned, 
troops of Ethiopians were still before her eyes. 

Lastly, it is wisely added that Nemesis rides 
upon an hart, because an hart is a most lively crea- 
ture. And albeit, it may be, that such as are cut off 
by death in their youth prevent and shun the power 
of Nemesis; yet doubtless such, whose prosperity 
and power continue long, are- made subject unto 
her, and lie, as it were, trodden under her feet. 


ACHELOUS, OR BATTLE. 


It is a fable of antiquity, that when Hercules 
and Achelous as rivals contended for the marriage 
of Dejanira, the matter drew them to combat, 
wherein Achelous took upon him many divers shapes, 
for so was it in his power to do, and amongst others, 


60 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


transforming himself into the likeness of a furious 
wild bull, assaults Hercules and provokes him to 
fight. But Hercules, for all this, sticking to his old 
human form, courageously encounters him, and so 
the combat goes roundly on. But this was the 
event, that Hercules tore away one of the bull’s 
horns, wherewith he being mightily daunted and 
grieved, to ransom his horn again, was contented to 
give Hercules, in exchange thereof, the Amalthean 
horn, or cornu-copia. 

This fable hath relation unto the expeditions of 
war, for the preparations thereof on the defensive 
part, which, expressed in the person of Achelous, are 
very diverse and uncertain. But the invading party 
is most commonly of one sort, and that very single, 
consisting of an army by land, or perhaps of a navy 
by sea. But for a king that in his own territory, 
expects an enemy, his occasions are infinite. He 
fortifies towns, he assembles men out of the coun- 
tries and villages, he raiseth citadels, he builds and 
breaks down bridges, he disposeth garrisons, and 
placeth troops of soldiers on passages of rivers; on 
ports, on mountains, and ambushes in woods, and is 
busied with a multitude of other directions, insomuch, 
that every day he prescribeth new forms and orders ; 
and then at last having accommodated all things 
complete for defence, he then rightly represents the 
form and manner of a fierce fighting bull. On the 
other side, the invader’s greatest care is, the fear 
to be distressed for victuals in an enemy’s country ; 
and therefore affects chiefly to hasten on battle: for 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 61 


if it should happen, that after a field fight, he prove 
the victor, and as it were, break the horn of the 
enemy, then certainly this follows, that his enemy 
being stricken with terror, and abased in his repu- 
tation, presently bewrays his weakness, and seeking 
to repair his loss, retires himself to some strong hold, 
abandoning to the conqueror the spoil and sack of 
his country and cities; which may well be termed a 
a type of the Amalthean horn. 


DIONYSUS, OR PASSIONS. 


They say that Semele, Jupiter’s sweetheart, 
having bound her paramour by an irrevocable oath 
to grant her one request which she would require, 
desired that he would accompany her in the same 
form wherein he accompanied Juno: which he 
granting, as not able to deny, it came to pass that 
the miserable wench was burnt with lightning. But 
the infant which she bare in her womb, J upiter the 
father took out, and kept it in a gash which he cut 
in his thigh till the months were complete that it 
should be born. This burthen made J upiter some- 
what to limp, whereupon the child, because it was 
heavy and troublesome to its father while it lay in 
his thigh, was called Dionysus. Being born, it was 
committed to Proserpina for some years to be nursed, 
and being grown up, it had such a maiden-face as 
that a man could hardly judge whether it were a 
boy or girl. He was dead also, and buried for a 
time, but afterwards revived: being but a youth, he 
invented and taught the planting and dressing of 


62 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


vines, the making also and use of wine; for which, 
becoming famous and renowned, he subjugated the 
world even to the uttermost bounds of India. He 
rode in a chariot drawn by tigers. There danced 
about him certain deformed hobgoblins called Cobali, 
Acratus, and others, yea, even the muses also were 
some of his followers. He took to wife Ariadne, 
forsaken and left by Theseus. ‘The tree sacred unto 
him was the ivy. He was held the inventor and 
institutor of sacrifices and ceremonies, and full of 
corruption and cruelty. He had power to strike 
men with fury or madness; for it is reported, that 
at the celebration of his orgies, two famous worthies, 
Pentheus and Orpheus, were torn in pieces by cer- 
tain frantic women, the one because he got upon a 
tree to behold their ceremonies in these sacrifices, 
the other for making melody with his harp ; and for 
his gods, they are in a manner the same with 
Jupiter's. 

There is such excellent morality couched in this 
fable, as that moral philosophy affords not better ; 
for under the person of Bacchus is described the 
nature of affection, passion, or perturbation, the 
mother of which, though never so hurtful, is nothing 
else but the object of apparent good in the eyes of 
appetite : and it is always conceived in an unlawful 
desire, rashly propounded and obtained, before well 
understood and considered; and when it begins to 
grow, the mother of it, which is the desire of 
apparent good by too much fervency, is destroyed 
and perisheth : nevertheless, whilst yet it is an im- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 63 


perfect embryo, it is nourished and preserved in the 
human soul, which is as it were a father unto it, and 
represented by Jupiter; but especially in the inferior 
part thereof, as in a thigh, where also it causeth so 
much trouble and vexation, as that good determina- 
tions and actions are much hindered and lamed 
thereby : and when it comes to be confirmed by con- 
sent and habit, and breaks out as it were into act, it 
remains yet a while with Proserpina as with a nurse; 
that is, it seeks corners and secret places, and as it 
were, caves under ground, until the reins of shame 
and fear being laid aside in a pampered audacious- 
ness, it either takes the pretext of some virtue, or 
becomes altogether impudent and shameless. And 
it is most true, that every vehement passion is of a 
doubtful sex, as being masculine in the first motion, 
but feminine in prosecution. 

It is an excellent fiction that of Bacchus’s reviv- 
ing ; for passions do sometimes seem to be in a dead 
sleep, and as it were utterly extinct ; but we should 
not think them to be so indeed; no, though 
they lay as it were in their grave: for let there be 
but matter and opportunity offered, and you shall 
see them quickly to revive again. 

The invention of wine is wittily ascribed unto 
him ; every affection being ingenious and skilful in 
finding out that which brings nourishment unto it ; 
and indeed, of all things known to men, wine is 
most powerful and efficacious to excite and kindle 
passions of what kind soever, as being in a manner 
common nurse to them all. 


64 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


Again, his conquering of nations and under- 
taking infinite expeditions is an elegant device; for 
desire never rests content with what it hath, but with 
an infinite and unsatiable appetite still covets and 
gapes after more. 

His chariot also is well said to be drawn by 
tigers ; for as soon as any affection shall, from going 
afoot, be advanced to ride in a chariot, and shall 
captivate reason, and lead her in a triumph, it grows 
cruel, untamed, and fierce against whatsoever with- 
stands or opposeth it. 

It is worth the noting also, that those ridiculous 
hobgoblins are brought in dancing about his chariot; 
for every passion doth cause, in the eyes, face, and 
gesture, certain indecent and ill-seeming, apish and 
deformed motions; so that they whoin any kind of 
passion, as In anger, arrogancy, or love seem 
glorious and brave in their own eyes, do yet appear 
to others mis-shapen and ridiculous. 

In that the muses are said to be of his company, 
it shews that there is no affection almost, which is 
not soothed by some art wherein the indulgence of 
wits doth derogate from the glory of the muses, 
who, when they ought to be the mistresses of life, 
are made the waiting-maids of affections. 

Again, when Bacchus is said to have loved 
Ariadne that was rejected by Theseus; it is an 
allegory of special observation; for it is most cer- 
tain, that passions always covet and desire that which 
experience forsakes; and they all know, who have 
paid dear for serving and obeying their lusts, that 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 65 


whether it be honour, or riches, or delight, or glory, 
or knowledge, or any thing else which they seek 
after, yet are they but things cast off, and by divers 
men in all ages, after experience had, utterly rejected 
and loathed. 

Neither is it without a mystery, that the ivy was 
sacred to Bacchus; for the application holds first, 
in that the ivy remains green in winter. Secondly, 
in that it sticks to, embraceth, and overtoppeth so 
many divers bodies, as trees, walls, and edifices. 
Touching the first, every passion doth by resistance 
and reluctation, and as it were by an antiperistasis, 
like the ivy of the cold winter, grow fresh and lusty: 
and as for the other, every predominate affection 
doth again, like the ivy, embrace and limit all human 
actions and determinations, adhering and cleaving 
fast unto them. 

Neither is it a wonder, that superstitious rites 
and ceremonies were attributed unto Bacchus, seeing 
every giddy-headed humour keeps in a manner 
revel-rout in false religions; or that the cause of 
madness should be ascribed unto him, seeing every 
affection is by nature a short fury, which, if it grow 
vehement and become habitual, concludes madness. 

Concerning the rending and dismembering of 
Pentheus and Orpheus, the parable is plain, for 
every prevalent affection is outrageous and severe, 
and against curious inquiry and wholesome and free 
admonition. 

Lastly, that confusion of Jupiter and Bacchus’ 
persons may be well transferred to a parable, 


66 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


seeing noble and famous acts, and remarkable and 
glorious merits do sometimes proceed from virtue 
and well ordered reason and magnanimity, and 
sometimes from a secret affection and hidden pas- 
sion, which are so dignified with the celebrity of fame 
and glory, that a man can hardly distinguish between 
the acts of Bacchus and the gests of Jupiter. 


ATALANTA, OR GAIN. 


Atalanta, who was reputed to excel in swiftness, 
would needs challenge Hippomenes at a match in 
running. The conditions of the prize were these, 
that if Hippomenes won the race he should espouse 
Atalanta; if he were outrun that then he should 
forfeit his life. And in the opinion of all, the victory 
was thought assured of Atalanta’s side, being famous, 
as she was, for her matchless and inconquerable 
speed, whereby she had been the bane of many. 
Hippomenes therefore bethinks him how to deceive 
her by a trick, and in that regard provides three 
golden apples or balls, which he purposely carried 
about him. The race is begun, and Atalanta gets a 
good start before him. He seeing himself thus cast 
behind, being mindful of his device, throws one of 
his golden balls before her, and yet not outright 
but somewhat of the one side, both to make her 
linger and also to draw her out of the right course : 
she out of a womanish desire, being thus enticed with 
the beauty of the golden apple, leaving her direct 
race, runs aside and stoops to catch the ball. Hip- 
pomenes the while holds on his course, getting there- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 67 


by a great start, and Jeaves her behind him: but she 
by her own natural swiftness, recovers her lost time 
and gets before him again. But Hippomenes still 
continues his sleight, and both the second and third 
times cast out his balls, those enticing delays ; and 
so by craft, and not by his activity, wins the race 
and victory. 

This fable seems allegorically to demonstrate a 
notable conflict between art and nature; for art, 
signified by Atalanta, in its work, if it be not letted 
and hindered, is far more swift than nature, more 
speedy in pace, and sooner attains the end it aims at, 
which is manifest almost in every effect; as you may 
see in fruit-trees, whereof those that grow of a ker- 
nel are long ere they bear, but such as are grafted 
on a stock a great deal sooner. You may see it in 
clay, which in the generation of stones, is long ere 
it become hard, but in the burning of bricks is very 
quickly effected. Also in moral passages you may 
observe, that it is a long time ere, by the benefit of 
nature, sorrow can be assuaged, and comfort at- 
tained ; whereas philosophy, which is, as it were, art 
of living, tarries not the leisure of time, but doth it 
instantly and out of hand; and yet this prerogative 
and singular agility of art is hindered by certain 
golden apples, to the infinite prejudice of human 
proceedings: for there is not any one art or science 
which constantly perseveres in a true and lawful 
course, till it come to the proposed end or mark, 
but ever and anon makes stops after good beginnings, 


68 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


leaves the race, and turns aside to profit and com- 
modity, like Atalanta. 
“‘ Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit.” 


Who doth her course forsake, 
The rolling gold doth take. 


And therefore it is no wonder that art hath not 
the power to conquer nature; and by pact or law 
of conquest to kill and destroy her; but on the con- 
trary, it falls out that art becomes subject to nature, 
and yields the obedience as of a wife to her husband. 


PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 


The ancients deliver that Prometheus made a 
man of clay, mixed with certain parcels taken from 
divers animals, who, studying to maintain this his 
work by art, that he might not be accounted a 
founder only but a propagator of human kind, stole 
up to heaven with a bundle of twigs, which he 
kindled at the chariot of the sun, came down again, 
and communicated it with men; and yet they say 
that notwithstanding this excellent work of his, he 
was requited with ingratitude in a treacherous con- 
spiracy ; for they accused both him and his invention 
to Jupiter, which was not so taken as was meet it 
should, for the information was pleasing to Jupiter 
and all the gods: and therefore in a merry mood 
granted unto men, not only the use of fire but per- 
petual youth also, a boon most acceptable and de- 
sirable. They being as it were overjoyed, did 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 69 


foolishly lay this gift of the gods upon the back of an 
ass, who being wonderfully oppressed with thirst and 
near a fountain, was told by a serpent which had 
the custody thereof, that he should not drink unless 
‘he would promise to give him the burthen that was 
on his back. The silly ass accepted the condition, 
and so the restoration of youth, sold for a draught 
of water, passed from men to serpents. But Prome- 
theus, full of malice, being reconciled unto men, 
after they were frustrated of their gift, but in a 
chafe yet with Jupiter, feared not to use deceit in 
sacrifice ; for having killed two bulls, and in one of 
their hides wrapt up the flesh and fat of them both, 
and in the other only the bones, with a great 
shew of religious devotion gave Jupiter his choice, 
who detesting his fraud and hypocrisy, but taking an 
occasion of revenge, chose that which was stopped 
with bones, and so turning to revenge, when he saw 
that the insolency of Prometheus would not be re- 
pressed but by laying some grievous affliction upon 
mankind, in the forming of which he so much 
bragged and boasted, commanded Vulcan to frame 
a goodly beautiful woman, which being done, every 
one of the gods bestowed a gift on her; whereupon 
she was called Pandora. To this woman they gave 
in her hand a goodly box full of all miseries and ca- 
lamities, only in the bottom of it they put Hope ; 
with this box she comes first to Prometheus, thinking 
to catch him, if peradventure he should accept it at 
her hands, and so open it; which he nevertheless, 
with good providence and foresight refused : where- 


70 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


upon she goes to Epimetheus, who, though brother 
to Prometheus, yet was of a much differing disposi- 
tion, and offers this box unto him, who without delay 
took it, and rashly opened it ; but when he saw that 
all kind of miseries came fluttering about his ears, 
being wise too late, with great speed and earnest 
endeavour clapped on the cover, and so with much 
ado retained Hope sitting alone in the bottom; at 
last Jupiter laying many and grievous crimes to 
Prometheus’ charge, as that he had stolen fire from 
heaven, that in contempt of his majesty he sacrificed 
a bull’s hide stuffed with bones, that he scornfully 
rejected his gift, and besides all this, that he offered 
violence to Pallas, cast him into chains, and doomed 
him to perpetual torment; and by Jupiter’s com- 
mand was brought to the mountain Caucasus, and 
there bound fast to a pillar that he could not stir; 
there came an eagle also, that every day sat tiring 
upon his liver and wasted it; but as much as was 
eaten in the day grew again in the night, that matter — 
for torment to work upon might never decry. But 
yet they say there was an end of this punishment ; 
for Hercules crossing the ocean in a cup, which the 
sun gave him, came to Caucasus, and set Prome- 
theus at liberty by shooting the eagle with an arrow. 
Moreover, in some nations there were instituted in 
the honour of Prometheus, certain games of lamp- 
bearers, in which they that strived for the prize were 
wont to carry torches lighted, which whoso suffered 
to go out, yielded the place and victory to those that 
followed, and so cast back themselves, so that who- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 71 


soever came first to the mark with his torch burning 
got the prize. 

This fable demonstrates and presseth many true 
and grave speculations, wherein some things have 
been heretofore well noted, others not so much as 
touched. 

Prometheus doth clearly and elegantly signify 
Providence: for in the universality of nature, the 
fabric and constitution of man only was by the 
ancients picked out and chosen, and attributed unto 
Providence as a peculiar work. The reason of it 
seems to be, not only in that the nature of man is 
capable of a mind and understanding, which is the 
seat of providence, and therefore it would seem 
strange and incredible, that the reason and mind 
should so proceed and flow from dumb and deaf 
principles, as that it should necessarily be concluded, 
the soul of man to be endued with providence, not 
without the example, intention, and stamp of a 
greater providence. But this also is chiefly pro- 
pounded, that man is as it were the centre of the 
world in respect of final causes; so that if man were 
not in nature, all things would seem to stray and 
wander without purpose, and like scattered branches, 
as they say, without inclination to their end; for all 
things attend on man; and he makes use of, and 
gathers fruit from all creatures; for the revolutions 
and periods of stars make both for the distinctions of 
times and the distribution of the world’s light. 
Meteors also are referred to presages of tempests ; 
and winds are ordained as well for navigation, as for 


72 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


turning of mills and other engines ; and plants, and 
animals of what kind soever, are useful either for 
men’s houses and places of shelter, or for raiment, or 
for food, or medicine, or for ease of labour, or in a 
word, for delight and solace ; so that all things seem 
to work, not for themselves, but for man. 

Neither is it added without consideration that 
certain particles were taken from divers living crea- 
tures, and mixed and tempered with that clayic mass, 
because it is most true, that of all things compre- 
hended within the compass of the universe, man is a 
thing most mixed and compounded, insomuch, that 
he was well termed by the ancients a little world ; 
for although the chemists do, with too much cu- 
riosity, take and wrest the elegancy of this word 
Microcosm to the letter, contending to find in man 
all minerals, all vegetables, and the rest, or any 
thing that holds proportion with them ; yet this pro- 
position remains sound and whole, that the body of 
man, of all material beings, is found to be most com- 
pounded and most organical, whereby it is endued 
and furnished with most admirable virtues and fa- 
culties : and as for simple bodies, their powers are 
not many, though certain and violent, as existing 
without being weakened, diminished, or stinted 
by mixture ; for the multiplicity and excellency of 
operation have their residence in mixture and com- 
position, and yet, nevertheless, man in his originals 
seems to be a thing unarmed and naked, and unable 
to help itself, as needing the aid of many things; 
therefore Prometheus made haste to find out fire, 


OS Se eT a ar 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 73 


which suppeditates and yields comfort and help in a 
manner to all human wants and necessities; so that 
if the soul be the form of forms, and if the hand be 
the instrument of instruments, fire deserves well to 
be called the succour of succours, or the help of 
helps, which infinite ways affords aid and assistance 
to all labours and mechanical arts, and to the sciences 
themselves. 

The manner of stealing this fire is aptly de- 
scribed, even from the nature of things : it was, they 
say, by a bundle of twigs held to touch the chariot 
of the sun; for twigs are used in giving blows or 
stripes, to signify clearly, that fire is engendered by 
the violent percussion and mutual collision of bodies, 
by which their material substances are attenuated 
and set in motion, and prepared to receive the heat 
of influence of the heavenly bodies ; and so in a clan- 
destine manner, and as it were by stealth, may be 
said to take and snatch fire from the chariot of 
the sun. 

There follows next a remarkable part of the 
parable, that men instead of gratulation and thanks- 
giving were angry, and expostulated the matter 
with Prometheus, insomuch, that they accused both 
him and his invention unto Jupiter, which was so 
acceptable unto him, that he augmented their former 
commodities with a new bounty. Seems it not 
strange, that ingratitude towards the author of a 
benefit, a vice that in a manner contains all other 
vices, should find such approbation and reward? No, 


it seems to be otherwise; for the meaning of the 
VOL. 3, | G 


74, THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


allegory is this, that men’s outcries upon the defects 
of nature and art, proceed from an excellent disposi- 
tion of the mind, and turn to their good; whereas 
the silencing of them is hateful to the gods, and re- 
dounds not so much to their profit; for they that 
infinitely extol human nature, or the knowledge 
they possess, breaking out into a prodigal admira- 
tion of that they have and enjoy, adoring also those 
sciences they profess, would have them be accounted 
perfect; they do first of all shew little reverence to 
the divine nature, by equalizing, in a manner, their 
own defects with God’s perfection. Again; they are 
wonderful injurious to men, by imagining they have 
attained the highest step of knowledge, resting 
themselves contented, seek no further. On the con- 
trary, such as bring nature and art to the bar with 
accusations and bills of complaint against them, are 
indeed of more true and moderate judgments; for 
they are ever in action, seeking always to find out 
new inventions. Which makes me much to wonder 
at the foolish and inconsiderate dispositions of some 
men, who, making themselves bond slaves to the 
arrogancy of a few, have the philosophy of the Peri- 
patetics, containing only a portion of Grecian wis- 
dom, and that but a small one neither, in so great 
esteem, that they hold it not only an unprofitable, 
but a suspicious and almost heinous thing, to lay 
any imputation of imperfection upon it. I approve 
rather of Empedocles’ opinion, who like a mad- 
man, and of Democritus’ judgment, who with 
great moderation complained how that all things 
were involved in a mist, that we knew nothing, 


Lal 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. ras) 


that we discerned nothing, that truth was drowned in 
the depths of obscurity, and that false things were 
wonderfully joined and intermixed with true, as for 
the new academy, that exceeded all measure, than of 
the confident and pronunciative school of Aristotle. 
Let men therefore be admonished, that by acknow- 
ledging the imperfection of nature and art, they are 
grateful to the gods, and shall thereby obtain new 
benefits and greater favours at their bountiful hands ; 
and the accusation of Prometheus their author and 
master, though bitter and vehement, will conduce 
more to their profit, than to be effuse in the congra- 
tulation of his invention; for, in a word, the opinion 
of having enough, is to be accounted one of the 
greatest causes of having too little. 

Now, as touching the kind of gift which men are 
said to have received in reward of their accusation, 
to wit, an ever-fading flower of youth, it is to shew, 
that the ancients seemed not to despair of attaining 
the skill, by means and medicines, to put off old age, 
and to prolong life, but this to be numbered rather 
among such things, having been once happily attained 
unto, are now, through men’s negligence and care- 
lessness, utterly perished and lost, than among such 
as have been always denied and never granted ; for 
they signify and shew, that by affording the true use 
of fire, and by a good and stern accusation and con- 
viction of the errors of art, the divine bounty is not 
wanting unto men in the obtaining of such gifts ; 
but men are wanting to themselves in laying this 
gift of the gods upon the back of a silly slow-paced 


76 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


ass, which may seem to be experience, a stupid thing, 
and full of delay ; from whose leisurely and snail- 
like pace proceeds that complaint of life’s brevity, 
and art’s length; and to say the truth, I am of this 
opinion, that those two faculties, dogmatical and em- 
pyrical,are not as yet well joined and coupled together, 
but as new gifts of the gods imposed either upon 
philosophical abstractions, as upon a flying bird, or 
upon slow and dul! experience, as upon an ass. 
And yet methinks I would not entertain an ill conceit 
of this ass, if it meet not for the accidents of travel 
and thirst: for I am persuaded, that whoso con- 
stantly goes on, by the conduct of experience, as by 
a certain rule and method, and not covets to meet 
with such experiments by the way, as conduce either 
to gain or ostentation, to obtain which, he must be 
fain to lay down and sell this burthen, may prove no 
unfit porter to bear this new addition of divine mu- 
nificence. 

Now, in that this gift is said to pass from men to 
serpents, it may seem to be added to the fable for 
ornament sake, in a manner, unless it were inserted 
to shame men, that having the use of that celestial 
fire and of so many arts, are not able to get unto 
themselves such things as nature itself bestows upon 
many other creatures. 

But that sudden reconciliation of men to Prome- 
theus, after they were frustrated of their hopes, con- 
tains a profitable and wise note, shewing the levity 
and temerity of men in new experiments : for if they 
have not present success answerable to their expec- 


‘ 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 77 


tation, with too sudden haste desist from that they 
began, and with precipitancy returning to their 
former experiments, are reconciled to them again. 
The state of man, in respect of arts, and such 
things as concern the intellect, being now described, 
the parable passeth to religion: for, after the plant- 
ing of arts, follows the setting of divine principles, 
which hypocrisy hath overspread and polluted. By 
that twofold sacrifice therefore is elegantly shadowed 
out the persons of a true religious man and an hy- 
pocrite. In the one is contained fatness, which, by 
reason of the inflammation and fumes thereof, is 
called the portion of God, by which his affection 
and zeal, tending to God’s glory, and ascending to- 
wards heaven, is signified. In him also are con- 
tained the bowels of charity, and in him is found that 
good and wholesome flesh; whereas in the other 
there is nothing but dry and naked bones, which 
nevertheless do stuff up the hide, and make it appear 
like a fair and goodly sacrifice : by this may be well 


‘meant those external and vain rites, and empty ce- 


remonies, by which men do oppress and fill up the 
sincere worship of God; things composed rather for 
ostentation than any way conducing to true piety. 
Neither do they hold it sufficient to offer such mock- 
sacrifices unto God; except they also lay them be- 
fore him, as if he had chosen and bespoke them. 
Certainly the prophet, in the person of God, doth thus 
expostulate concerning this choice: Esa. lviii. 5. 
“ Num tandem hoc est illud jejunium, quod Execr, 
“ut homo animam suam in diem unum affligat, et 


78 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


“caput instar junceti demittat?” Is it such a fast 
that I have chosen, that a man should afflict his soul 
for a day, and to bow down his head like a bulrush ? 
Having now touched the state of religion, the 
parable converts itself to the manners and conditions 
of human life: and it is a common but apt inter- 
pretation by Pandora, to be meant pleasure and vo- 
luptuousness, which, when the civil life is pampered 
with too much art, and culture, and superfluity, is 
engendered, as it were, by the efficacy of fire, and 
therefore the work of voluptuousness is attributed 
unto Vulcan, who also himself doth represent fire. 
From this do infinite miseries, together with too late 
repentance, proceed and overflow the minds, and 
bodies, and fortunes of men; and that not only in 
respect of particular estates, but even over kingdoms 
and commonwealths: for from this fountain have 
wars, tumults, and tyrannies derived their original. 
But it would be worth the labour to consider 
how elegantly and proportionably this fable doth 
delineate two conditions, or, as I may say, two tables 
or examples of human life, under the persons of Pro- 
metheus or Epimetheus: for they that are of Epi- 
metheus’ sect are improvident, not foreseeing what 
may come to pass hereafter, esteeming that best 
which seems most sweet for the present; whence it 
happens that they are overtaken with many miseries, 
difficulties, and calamities, and so lead their lives 
almost in perpetual affliction ; but yet, notwithstand- 
ing, they please their fancy, and out of ignorance of 
the passages of things, do entertain many vain hopes 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 79 


in their mind, whereby they sometimes, as with sweet 
dreams, solace themselves, and sweeten the miseries 
of their life. But they that are Prometheus’ scholars, 
are men endued with prudence, foreseeing things to 
come, warily shunning and avoiding many evils and 
misfortunes. But to these their good properties 
they have this also annexed, that they deprive them- 
selves and defraud their genius of many lawful plea- 
sures, and divers recreations; and, which is worse, 
they vex and torment themselves with cares and 
troubles, and intestine fears ; for being chained to the 
pillar of necessity, they are afflicted with innume- 
rable cogitations, which, because they are very swift, 
may be fitly compared to an eagle; and those griping, 
and, as it were gnawing and devouring the liver, 
unless sometimes as it were by night, it may be they 
get a little recreation and ease of mind, but so, 
as that they are again suddenly assaulted with fresh 
anxieties and fears. 

Therefore this benefit happens to but a very few 
of either condition, that they should retain the com- 
modities of providence, and free themselves from the 
miseries of care and perturbation; neither indeed 
can any attain unto it but by the assistance of Her- 
cules, that is, fortitude and constancy of mind, which 
is prepared for every event, and armed in all fortunes; 
foreseeing without fear, enjoying without loathing, 
and suffering without impatience. It is worth the 
noting also, that this virtue was not natural to Pro- 
metheus, but adventitial, and from the indulgence of 
another : for no in-bred and natural fortitude is able 


80 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


to encounter with these miseries. Moreover this 
virtue was received and brought unto him from the 
remotest part of the ocean, and from the sun, that is, 
from wisdom as from the sun; and from the medi- 
_ tation of inconstancy, or of the waters of human life, 
as from the sailing upon the ocean; which two, 
Virgil hath well conjoined in these verses : 


“ Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas : 
‘“¢ Quique metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum 
“¢ Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari.” 


Happy is he that knows the cause of things, 
And that with dauntless courage treads upon 
All fear and fates, relentless threat’nings, 
And greedy throat of roaring Acheron. 


Moreover, it is elegantly added for the consola- 
tion and confirmation of men’s minds, that this noble 
hero crossed the ocean in a cup or pan, lest, perad- 
venture, they might too much fear that the straits 
and frailty of their nature will not be capable of this 
fortitude and constancy. Of which very thing Se- 
neca well conceived, when he said, “ Magnum est 
“ habere simul fragilitatem hominis, et securitatem 
“ Dei.” It isa great matter for human frailty and 
divine security to be one and the self-same time, in 
one and the self-same subject. 

But now we are to step back a little again to 
that, which by premeditation we past over, lest a 
breach should be made in those things which were 
so linked together: that therefore which I could 
touch here is that last crime imputed to Prome- 
theus, about seeking to bereave Minerva of her vir- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. Si 


ginity : for, questionless, it was this heinous offence 
that brought that punishment of devouring his liver 
upon him; which is nothing else but to shew, that 
when we are puffed up with too much learning and 
science, they go about oftentimes to make even 
divine oracles subject to sense and reason, whence 
most certainly follows a continual distraction, and 
restless griping of the mind; we must therefore, 
with a sober and humble judgment, distinguish be- 
tween humanity and divinity, and between the oracles 
of sense and the mysteries of faith, unless an here- 
tical religion and a commentitious philosophy be 
pleasing unto us. 

Lastly, it remains that we say something of the 
games of Prometheus, performed with burning 
torches, which again hath reference to arts and 
sciences, as that fire, in whose memory and celebra- 
tion these games were instituted ; and it contains in 
it a most wise admonition, that the perfection of 
sciences is to be expected from succession, not from 
the nimbleness and promptness of one only author : 
for they that are nimblest in course, and strongest in 
contention, yet happily have not the luck to keep 
fire still in their torch, seeing it may be as well ex- 
tinguished by running too fast as by going too slow. 
And this running and contending with lamps seems 
long since to be intermitted, seeing all sciences seem 
even now to flourish most in their first authors, Aris- 
totle, Galen, Euclid, and Ptolemy ; succession having 
neither effected, nor almost attempted any great 
matter: it were therefore to be wished that these 


! 


82 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


games, in honour of Prometheus, or human nature, 
were again restored ; and that matters should receive 
success by combat and emulation, and not hang upon 
any one man’s sparkling and shaking torch. Men 


therefore are to be admonished to rouse up their 


spirits, and try their strengths and turns, and not refer 
all to the opinions and brains of a few. 

And thus have I delivered that which I thought 
good to observe out of this so well known and common 
fable ; and yet I will not deny but that there may be 
some things in it which have an admirable consent 
with the mysteries of Christian religion; and espe- 
cially that sailing of Hercules in a cup to set Pro- 
metheus at liberty, seems to represent an image of 
the divine word, coming in flesh, as in a frail vessel, 
to redeem man from the slavery of hell. But I have 
interdicted my pen all liberty in this kind, lest I 
should use strange fire at the altar of the Lord. 


SCYLLA AND ICARUS, OR THE MIDDLE- 
WAY. 


Mediocrity, or the middle-way, is most com- 
mended in moral actions; in contemplative sciences 
not so celebrated, though no less profitable and com- 
modious; but in political employments to be used 
with great heed and judgment. The ancients by 
the way prescribed to Icarus, noted the mediocrity 
of manners; and by the way between Scylla and 
Charybdis, so famous for difficulty and danger, the 
mediocrity of intellectual operations. 

Icarus being to cross the sea by flight, was com- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 83 


manded by his father that he should fly neither too 
high nor too low, for his wings being joined with 
wax, if he should mount too high, it was to be feared 
lest the wax would melt by the heat of the sun, and 
if too low, lest misty vapours of the sea would make — 
it less tenacious: but he in a youthful jollity soaring 
too high, fell down headlong and perished in the 
water. 

The parable is easy and vulgar: for the way of 
virtue lies in a direct path between excess and defect. 
Neither is it a wonder that Icarus perished by 
excess, seeing that excess for the most part is the 
peculiar fault of youth, as defect is of age ; and yet 
of two evil and hurtful ways youth commonly makes 
choice of the better, defect being always accounted 
worst : for whereas excess contains some sparks of 
magnanimity, and, like a bird, claims kindred of 
the heavens, defect only like a base worm crawls 
upon the earth. Excellently therefore said Hera- 
clitus, “ Lumen siccum, optima anima ;” a dry light 
is the best soul; for if the soul contract moisture 
from the earth it becomes degenerate altogether. 
Again, on the other side, there must be moderation 
used, that this light be subtilized by this laudable 
siccity, and not destroyed by too much fervency : 
and thus much every man for the most part knows. 

Now they that would sail between Scylla and 
Charybdis must be furnished as well with the skill 
as prosperous success in navigation : for if their ships 
fall into Scylla they are split on the rocks; if into 
Charybdis they are swallowed up of a gulf. 


84. THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, 


The moral of this parable, which we will but 
briefly touch, although it contain matter of infinite 
contemplation, seems to be this, that in every art and 
science, and so in their rules and axioms, there be a 
mean observed between the rocks of distinctions and 
the gulfs of universalities, which two are famous for 
the wreck both of wits and arts. 


SPHYNX, OR SCIENCE. 


They say that Sphynx was a monster of divers 
forms, as having the face and voice of a virgin, the 
wings of a bird, and the talons of a griffin. His" 
abode was in a mountain near the city of Thebes ; 
he kept also the highways, and used to lie in ambush 
for travellers, and so to surprise them: to whom, 
being in his power, he propounded certain dark and 
intricate riddles, which were thought to have been 
given and received of the Muses. Now if these mi- 
serable captives were not able instantly to resolve 
and interpret them in the midst of their difficulties 
and doubts, she would rend and tear them in pieces. 
The country groaning a long time under this cala- 
mity, the Thebans at last propounded the kingdom 
as a reward unto him that could interpret the riddles 
of Sphynx, there being no other way to destroy her. 
Whereupon CEdipus, a man of piercing and deep 
judgment, but maimed and lame by reason of holes 
bored in his feet, moved with the hope of so great a 
reward, accepted the condition, and, determined to 
put it to the hazard, and so with an undaunted and, 
bold spirit presented himself before the monster 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 85 


who asked him what creature that was, which after 
his birth went first upon four feet, next upon two, 
then upon three, and lastly upon four feet again ; 
answered forthwith that it was man, which in his 
infancy, immediately after birth, crawls upon all 
four, scarce venturing to creep, and not long after 
stands upright upon two feet, then growing old he 
leans upon a staff, wherewith he supports himself ; 
so that he may seem to have three feet, and at last, 
in decrepid years, his strength failing him, he falls 
groveling again upon four, and lies bed-rid. Having 
therefore by this true answer gotten the victory, he 
instantly slew this Sphynx, and, laying her body 
upon an ass, leads it as it were in triumph ; and so, 
according to the condition, was created king of the 
Thebans. 

This fable contains in it no less wisdom than 
elegancy, and it seems to point at science, especially 
that which is joined with practice, for science may 
not absurdly be termed a monster, as being by the 
ignorant and rude multitude always held in admira- 
tion. It is diverse in shape and figure, by reason of 
the infinite variety of subjects, wherein it is conver- 
sant. A maiden face and voice is attributed unto it 
for its gracious countenance and volubility of tongue. 
Wings are added, because sciences and their inven- 
tions do pass and fly from one to another, as it were, 
in a moment, seeing that the communication of sci- 
ence is as the kindling of one light at another. Ele- 
gantly also it is feigned to: have sharp and hooked 
talons, because the axioms and arguments of sci- 
ence do so fasten upon the mind, and so strongly 


86 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


apprehend and hold it, as that it stir not or evade, 
which is noted also by the Divine Philosopher, 
Eccles. xii. 11. “ Verba sapientum,” saith he, “ sunt 
“tanquam aculei et veluti clavi in altum defixi,” 
The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails 
driven far in. 

Moreover, all science seems to be placed in steep 
and high mountains; as being thought to be a lofty 
and high thing, looking down upon ignorance with 
a scornful eye. It may be observed and seen also a 
great way, and far in compass, as things set on the 
tops of mountains. 

Furthermore, science may well be feigned to 
beset the highways, because which way soever we 
turn in this progress and pilgrimage of human life, 
we meet with some matter or occasion offered for 
contemplation. 

Sphynx is said to have received from the muses, 
divers difficult questions and riddles, and to pro- 
pound them unto men, which remaining with the 
muses, are free, it may be, from savage cruelty ; 
for so long as there is no other end of study and 
meditation, than to know, the understanding is not 
racked and imprisoned, but enjoys freedom and 
liberty, and even in doubts and variety, finds a kind 
of pleasure and delectation; but when once these 
enigmas are delivered by the muses to Sphynx, 
that is, to practice, so that it be solicited and urged 
by action, and election, and determination; then 
they begin to be troublesome and raging; and un- 
less they be resolved and expedited, they do won- 
derfully torment and vex the minds of men, distract- 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 87 


ing, and in a manner rending them into sundry 
parts. 

Moreover, there is always a twofold condition 
propounded with Sphynx’s enigmas: to him that 
doth not expound them, distraction of mind; and 
to him that doth, a kingdom; for he that knows 
that which he sought to know, hath attained the 
end he aimed at, and every artificer also commands 
over his work. 

Of Sphynx’s riddles, they are generally two 
kinds; some concerning the nature of things, others 
touching the nature of man. So also there are two 
kinds of empires, as rewards to those that resolve 
them. The one over nature, the other over men; 
for the proper and chief end of true natural philo- 
sophy is to command and sway over natural be- 
ings; as bodies, medicines, mechanical works, and 
infinite other things ; although the school, being 
content with such things as are offered, and priding 
itself with speeches, doth neglect realities and works, 
treading them as it were under foot. But that 
enigma propounded to CEdipus, by means of which 
he obtained the Theban empire, belonged to the 
nature of man: for whosoever doth thoroughly con- 
sider the nature of man, may be in a manner the 
contriver of his own fortune, and is born to com- 
mand, which is well spoken of the Roman arts: 


“« Tu regere imperio populos, Romane memento 
‘* Hee tibi erunt artes 54 


Roman remember, that with sceptre’s awe 
Thy realms thou rul’st. These arts let be thy rule. 


88 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


It was, therefore, very apposite, that Augustus 
Cesar, whether by premeditation, or by a chance, 
bare a sphynx in his signet: for he, if ever any, 
was famous not only in political government, but in 
all the course of his life; he happily discovered 
many new enigmas concerning the nature of man, 
which if he had not done with dexterity and prompt- 
ness, he had oftentimes fallen into imminent danger 
and destruction. 

Moreover, it is added in the fable, that the body 
of Sphynx, when she was overcome, was laid upon an 
ass; which indeed is an elegant fiction, seeing there 
is nothing so acute and abstruse, but, being well 
understood and divulged, may be apprehended by a 
slow capacity. 

Neither is it to be omitted, that Sphynx was 
overcome by a man lame in his feet; for when men 
are too swift of foot, and too speedy of pace in 
hasting to Sphynx’s «xnigmas, it comes to pass, 
that, she getting the upper hand, their wits and 
minds are rather distracted by disputations, than 
that ever they come to command by works and 
effects. 


PROSERPINA, OR SPIRIT. 


Pluto, they say, being made king of the infernal 
dominions, by that memorable division, was in de- 
spair of ever attaining any one of the superior god- 
desses in marriage, especially if he should venture to 
court them, either with words, or with any amorous 
behaviour ; so that of necessity he was to lay some 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 89 


plot to get one of them by rapine: taking, there- 
fore, the benefit of opportunity, he caught up Pro- 
serpina, the daughter of Ceres, a beautiful virgin, 
as she was gathering Narcissus flowers in the mea- 
dows of Sicily, and carried her away with him in 
his coach to the subterranean dominions, where she 
was welcomed with such respect, as that she was 
styled the Lady of Dis. But Ceres, her mother, 
when in no place she should find this her only be- 
loved daughter, in a sorrowful humour and dis- 
tracted beyond measure, went compassing the whole 
earth with a burning torch in her hand, to seek and 
recover this her lost child. But when she saw that 
all was in vain, supposing peradventure that she 
was carried to hell, she importuned Jupiter with 
many tears and lamentations, that she might be re- 
stored unto her again ; and at length prevailed thus 
far, that if she had tasted of nothing in hell, she 
Should have leave to bring her from thence. Which 
condition was as good as a denial to her petition, 
Proserpina having already eaten three grains of a 
pomegranate. And yet for all this, Ceres gave not 
over her suit, but fell to prayers and moans afresh ; 
wherefore it was at last granted that, the year be- 
ing divided, Proserpina should by alternate courses, 
remain one six months with her husband, and other 
six months with her mother. Not long after this, 
Theseus and Perithous in an over-hardy adventure, 
attempted to fetch her from Pluto’s bed, who, being 
weary with travel and sitting down upon a stone in 


hell to rest themselves, had not the power to rise 
VOL. 3, H 


90 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


again, but sat there for ever. Proserpina therefore 
remained queen of hell, in whose honour there was 
this great privilege granted; that, although it 
were enacted, that none that went down to hell 
should have the power ever to return from thence; yet 
was this singular exception annexed to this law, 
that if any presented Proserpina with a golden 
bough, it should be lawful for him to go and come 
at his pleasure. Now there was but one only such 
a bough in a spacious and shady grove, which was 
not a plant neither of itself, but budded from a tree 
of another kind, like a rope of gum which being 
plucked off, another would instantly spring out. 

This fable seems to pertain to nature, and to dive 
into that rich and plentiful efficacy and variety of sub- 
alternal creatures, from whom whatsoever we have 
is derived, and to them doth again return. 

By Proserpina, the ancients meant that ethereal 
spirit, which being separated from the upper globe, 
is shut up and detained under the earth, represented 
by Pluto, which the poet well expressed thus : 


«« Sive recens tellus, seductaque nuper ab alto 
‘¢ /Ethere, cognati retinebat semina cceli.” 


Whether the youngling Tellus (that of late | 
Was from the high-rear’d eether separate) 
Did yet contain her teeming womb within 
The living seeds of heaven, her nearest kin. 


This spirit is feigned to be rapted by the earth, 
because nothing can withhold it, when it hath time 
and leisure to escape. It is therefore caught and 
stayed by a sudden contraction, no otherwise than if 


: 
& 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 91 


a man should go about to mix air with water, which 
can be done by no means, but by a speedy and rapid 
agitation, as may be seen in froth, wherein the air is 
rapted by the water. 

Neither is it inelegantly added that Proserpina was 
rapt as she was gathering Narcissus flowers in the 
valleys, because Narcissus hath his name from slow- 
ness or stupidity : for, indeed, then is this spirit most 
prepared and fitted to be snatched by terrestrial mat- 
ter, when it begins to be coagulated, and become as 
it were slow. 

Rightly is Proserpina honoured more than any of 
the other god’s bed-fellows,in being styled the Lady of 
Dis, because this spirit doth rule and sway all things 
in those lower regions, Pluto abiding stupid and 
ignorant. 

This spirit, the power celestial, shadowed by 
Ceres, strives with infinite sedulity, to recover and 
get again: for that brand or burning torch of ether, 
which Ceres carried in her hand, doth doubtless 
signify the sun, which enlighteneth the whole circuit 
of the earth, and would be of the greatest moment to 
recover Proserpina, if possibly it might be. 

But Proserpina abides still, the reason of which 
is accurately and excellently propounded in the con- 
ditions between Jupiter and Ceres: for first it is 
most certain there are two ways to keep spirit in 
solid and terrestrial matter: the one by constipa- 
tion and obstruction, which is mere imprisonment 
and constraint; the other by administration or pro- 
portionable nutriment, which it receives willingly 


92 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


and of its own accord; for after that the included 
spirit begins to feed and nourish itself, it makes no 
haste to be gone, but is, as it were, linked to its 
earth: and this is pointed at by Proserpina her eat- 
ing of pomegranate; which, if she had not done, 
she had long since been recovered by Ceres with her 
torch, compassing the earth. Now, as concerning 
that spirit which is in metals and minerals, it is 
chiefly perchance restrained by the solidity of mass : 
but that which is in plants and animals, inhabits a 
porous body, and hath open passage to be gone in 
a manner as it lists, were it not that it willingly 
abides of its own accord, by reason of the relish it 
finds in its entertainment. The second condition 
concerning the six months’ custom, it is no other 
than an elegant description of the division of the 
year, seeing this spirit mixed with the earth ap- 
pears above ground in vegetable bodies during the 
summer months, and in the winter sinks down 
again. 

Now as concerning Theseus and Perithous, and 
their attempt to bring Proserpina quite away ; the 
meaning of it is, that it oftentimes comes to pass, 
that some more subtle spirits descending with 
divers bodies to the earth, never come to suck of any 
subaltern spirit, whereby to unite it unto them, and 
so to bring it away. But, on the contrary, are coagu- 
lated themselves, and never rise more, that Proser- 
pina should be by that means augmented with in- 
habitants and dominion. 

All that we can say concerning that sprig of gold 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 93 


is hardly able to defend us from the violence of the 
chemists, if in this regard they set upon us, seeing 
they promise by that their elixir to effect golden 
mountains, and the restoring of natural bodies, as it 
were from the portal of hell. But, concerning che- 
mistry, and those perpetual suitors for that philoso- 
phical elixir, we know certainly that their theory is 
without grounds, and we suspect that their practice 
also is without certain reward. And _ therefore, 
omitting these, of this last part of the parable, this 
is my opinion, I am induced to believe by many 
figures of the ancients, that the conservation and 
restoration of natural bodies, in some sort, was not 
esteemed by them as a thing impossible to be at- 
tained, but as a thing abstruse and full of difficul- 
ties, and so they seem to intimate in this place, 
when they report that this one only sprig was found 
among infinite other trees in a huge and thick wood, 
which they feigned to be of gold, because gold is 
the badge of perpetuity, and to be artificially as it 
were inserted, because this effect is to be rather 
hoped for from art, than from any medicine, or sim- 
ple or natural means. 


METIS, OR COUNSEL. 


The ancient poets report that Jupiter took Me- 
tis to wife, whose name doth plainly signify coun- 
sel, and that she by him conceived. Which when 
he found, not tarrying the time of her deliverance, 
devours both her and that which she went withal, 


94. THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


by which means Jupiter himself became with child, 
and was delivered of a wondrous birth; for out of 
his head or brain came forth Pallas armed. 

The sense of this fable, which at first apprehen- 
slon may seem monstrous and absurd, contains in it 
a secret of state, to wit, with what policy kings are 
wont to carry themselves towards their counsellors, 
whereby they may not only preserve their authority 
and majesty free and entire, but also that it may be 
the more extolled and dignified of the people: for 
kings being as it were tied and coupled in a nuptial 
bond to their counsellors, do truly conceive that 
communicating with them about the affairs of 
greatest importance, do yet detract nothing from 
their own majesty. But when any matter comes to 
be censured or decreed, which is a birth, there do 
they confine and restrain the liberty of their coun- 
sellors; lest that which is done should seem to be 
hatched by their wisdom and judgeinent. So as at 
last kings, except it be in such matters as are dis- 
tasteful and maligned, which they always will be sure 
to put off from themselves, do assume the honour and 
praise of all matters that are ruminated in council, 
and as it were, formed in the womb, whereby the 
resolution and execution, which, because it pro- 
ceeds from power and implies necessity, is ele- 
gantly shadowed under the figure of Pallas armed, 
shall seem to proceed wholly from themselves. Nei- 
ther sufficeth it, that it is done by the authority of 
the king, by his mere will and free applause, except 


ee Oy ns ee ee, eee Ts, 
be 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 95 


withal, this be added and appropriated as to issue 
out of his own head or brain, intimating, that out of 


his own judgement, wisdom, and ordinance, it was 
only invented and derived. 


THE SYRENS, OR PLEASURES. 


The fable of the Syrens seems rightly to have 
been applied to the pernicious allurements of plea- 
sure, but in a very vulgar and gross manner. And, 
therefore, to me it appears, that the wisdom of the 


'aneients have, with a farther reach or insight, 


ained deeper matter out of them, not unlike the | 
grapes ill pressed; from which, though some liquor 
were drawn, yet the best was left behind. These 
Syrens are said to be the daughters of Achelous and 
Terpsichore one of the muses, who in their first 
being were winged, but after rashly entering into 
contention with the muses, were by thein vanquished 
and deprived of their wings: of whose plucked out 
feathers the muses made themselves coronets, so as 


ever since that time all the muses have attired them- 


selves with plumed heads, except Terpsichore only, 
that was mother t 


the Syrens. The habitation of 
the Syrens was in certain pleasant islands, from 
whence as soon as out of their watch-tower they dis- 


‘covered any ships approaching, with their sweet 


tunes they would first entice and stay them, and 
having them in their power would destroy them. 
Neither was their song plain and single, but consist- 
ing of such variety of melodious tunes, so fitting and 
delighting the ears that heard them, as that it ra~ 


96 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


vished and betrayed all passengers: and so great 
were the mischiefs they did, that these isles of the 
Syrens, even as far off as man can ken them, ap- 
peared all over white with the bones of unburied 
carcases. For the remedying of this misery a double 
means was at last found out, the one by Ulysses the 
other by Orpheus. Ulysses, to make experiment of 
his device, caused all the ears of his company to be 
stopped with wax, and made himself to be bound to 
the main mast, with special commandment to his 
mariners not to be loosed, albeit himselt should re- 
quire them so to do. But Orpheus neglected and 
disdained to be so bound, with a shrill and sweet 
voice singing praises of the gods to his harp, sup- 
pressed the songs of the oe and so freed him- 
self from their danger. 

This fable hath relation to men’s manners, and 
contains init a manifest and most excellent parable : 
for pleasures do for the most proceed out of the 
abundance and superfluity of all things, and also out 
of the delights and jovial contentments of the mind: 
the which are wont suddenly, as it were, with 
winged enticements to ravish and rap mortal 
men. But learning and education brings it so to 
pass, as that it restrains and bridles man’s mind, 
making it so to consider the ends and events of 
things, as that it clips the wings of pleasure. And 
this was greatly to the honour and renown of the 
muses ; for after that, by some examples, it was made 
manifest that by the power of philosophy vain plea- 
sures might grow contemptible; it presently grew 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 97 


to great esteem, as a thing that could raise and ele- 
vate the mind aloft, that seemed to be base and 
fixed to the earth, make the cogitations of the men, 
which do ever reside in the head, to be etherial, and 
as it were winged. But that the mother of the 
Syrens was left to her feet, and without wings, that 
no doubt is no otherwise meant than of light and 
superficial learning, appropriated and defined only 
to pleasures, as were those which Petronius devoted 
himself unto after he had received his fatal sentence; 
and having his foot, as it were, upon the threshold 
of death, sought to give himself all delightful con- 
tentments ; insomuch, as when he had caused con- 
solatory letters to be sent him, he would peruse 
none of them, as Tacitus reports, that should give 
him courage and constancy, but only read fantastical 
verses such as these are: 


“« Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus, 
‘* Rumoresque senum severiorum, 
“‘ Omnes unius estimemus assis.” 


My Lesbia, let us live and love: 
Though wayward dotards us reprove, 
Weigh their words light for our behove. 


And this also: 


“ Jura senes norint, et quid sit fasque nefasque, 
“ Inquirant tristes, leyumque examina servent. 


Let doting grandsires know the law, 
And right and wrong observe with awe: 
Let them in that strict circle draw. 


This kind of doctrine would easily persuade to 


98 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 


take these plumed coronets from the muses, and 
to restore the wings again to the Syrens. These 
Syrens are said to dwell in remote isles, for that 
pleasures love privacy and retired places, shunning 
always too much company of people. The Syrens’ 
songs are so vulgarly understood, together with the 
deceits and danger of them, as that they need no 
exposition. But that of the bones appearing like 
white cliffs, and descried afar off, hath more acute- 
ness in it: for thereby is signified, that albeit the 
examples of afflictions be manifest and eminent, yet 
do they not sufficiently deter us from the wicked en- 
ticements of pleasures. 

As for the remainder of this parable, though it 
be not over mystical, yet it is very grave and excel- 
lent: for in it are set out three remedies for this vio- 
lent enticing mischief; to wit, two from philosophy, 
and one from religion. The first means to shun 
these inordinate pleasures is, to withstand and resist 
them in their beginnings, and seriously to shun all 
occasions that are offered to debauch and entice the 
mind, which is signified in that stopping of the ears; 
and that remedy is properly used by the meaner and 
and baser sort of people, as it were, Ulysses’ followers 
or mariners, whereas more heroic and noble spirits 
may boldly converse even in the midst of these se- 
ducing pleasures, if with a resolved constancy they 
stand upon their guard and fortify their minds, and 
so take greater contentment in the trial and expe- 
rience of this their approved virtue; learning rather 
thoroughly to understand the follies and vanities of 


THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 99 


those pleasures by contemplation than by submission. 
Which Solomon avouched of himself, when he reck- 
oned up the multitude of those solaces and pleasures 
wherein he swam, doth conclude with this sentence : 


‘¢ Sapientia quoque perseverabat mecum.” 


Wisdom also continued with me. 


Therefore these heroes and spirits of this excel- 
lent temper, even in the midst of these enticing plea- 
sures, can shew themselves constant and invincible, 
and are able to support their own virtuous inclina- 
tion against all heady and forcible persuasions what- 
soever ; as by the example of Ulysses, that so pe- 
remptorily interdicted all pestilent counsels and flat- 
teries of his companions, as the most dangerous and 
pernicious poisons to captivate the mind. But of all 
other remedies in this case that of Orpheus is most 
predominant ; for they that chaunt and resound the 
praises of the gods confound and dissipate the voices 
and incantations of the Syrens; for divine medita- 
tions do not only in power subdue all sensual plea- 


sures, but also far exceed them in sweetness and 
delight. 


a ila at 


THE HISTORY 


OF THE REIGN OF 


KING HENRY THE SEVENTH. 
WRITTEN 
BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, 
FRANCIS, LORD VERULAM, 


VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN. 


To the Most Illustrious and Most Excellent 
Prince Cuarwes, Prince of Wales, Duke of 
Cornwall, Earl of Chester, &c. 


IT MAY PLEASE YOUR HIGHNESS, 


In part of my acknowledgment to your Highness, I 
have endeavoured to do honour to the memory of 
the last King of England that was ancestor to the 
King your father and yourself; and was that King 
to whom both unions may ina sort refer, that of 
the roses being in him consummate and that of the 
kingdoms by him begun: besides, his times deserve 
it. For he was a wise man and an excellent King : 
and yet the times were rough, and full of mutations, 
and rare accidents. And it is with times as it is 
with ways; some are more up-hill and down-hill, 
and some are more flat and plain; and the one is 
better for the liver, and the other for the writer. [ 
have not flattered him, but took him to life as well 
as I could, sitting so far off, and having no better 
light. It is true your Highness hath a living pat- 
tern, incomparable, of the King your father: but it 
is not amiss for you also to see one of these ancient 
pieces. God preserve your Highness. 


Your Highness’s most humble 
and devoted Servant, 


FRANCIS ST. ALBAN. 


es 
hee 
ae 


oe 
ea se 


aa 


ae 
are 
neat . 
ae i 
a 
fod 


a 


are 


. 2 
aes | 
ae 


- ie 
ee 
ie 


5 ee 
free 


om 
ae 


= 
ae 


aa 


aes 


dt 


— F 


a 
Be ne: 
Jo aa ee 
be ees 
oe 


te ug 
ha oe ke 
Z 7 


ee 


i 


eee 
Me 
— 


Pied 


ie 


aoe 
oes 
ca 


ae 


ee 


se 
i 


: a 


oo 


a 

- 

es 

Ry 

a 7 eae ey 
sua? - by ve i 
ae a i co 


cae 


os 
: e ie 


ee 


ge 
ie 


ee 
pear 


+ 


A 


ea 


a 


awe 
i 


ee oe 
= . : 
on ‘ i ok hinkeg: 
a ; nie : : tan 
<e 7 7 . ; oo 
: : an Bee, 
= ‘ 


ph ae 
te eee — 
= = 


pa 
ar: 


eee 


Eee oF 
Pain Ay . ae 
Gee ro ee 

eae ee 

ais 


ope 


oS 
ee 
i. 


oe 


ee, 
ee 
A 


— 
ie 


hale Bi NR 


THE 
HISTORY OF THE REIGN 
OF 


- 


~ KING HENRY THE SEVENTH. 


Arter that Richard, the third of that name, king in 
fact only, but tyrant both in title and regiment, and 
so commonly termed and reputed in ail times since, 
was, by the divine revenge favouring the design of 
‘an exiled man, overthrown and slain at Bosworth- 
field; there succeeded in the kingdom the Earl of 
Richmond, thenceforth styled Henry the Seventh. 
The king, immediately after the victory, as one that 
had been bred under a devout mother, and was in 
his nature a great observer of religious forms, caused 
“ Te Deum laudamus” to be solemnly sung in the 
presence of the whole army upon the place, and was 
himself with general applause and great cries of joy, 
im a kind of military election or recognition, saluted 
king. Meanwhile the body of Richard, after many 
indignities and reproaches, the “ diriges” and obse- 
quies of the common people towards tyrants, was 
obscurely buried. For though the king of his noble- 
ness gave charge unto the friars of Leicester to see 
an honourable interment to be given to it, yet the 
religious people themselves, being not free from the 
VOL. 3, : I 


- 
- 


‘ 


106 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


humours of the vulgar, neglected it ; wherein never- 
theless they did not then incur any man’s blame or 
censure: no man thinking any ignominy or con- 
tumely unworthy of him that had been the execu- 
tioner of King Henry the Sixth, that innocent 
prince, with his own hands; the contriver of the 
death of the duke of Clarence his brother; the mur- 
derer of his two nephews, one of them his lawful 
king in the present, and the other in the future, 
failing of him; and vehemently suspected to have 
been the impoisoner of his wife, thereby to make 
vacant his bed, for a marriage within the degrees 
forbidden. And although he were a prince in mili- 
tary virtue approved, jealous of the honour of the 
English nation, and likewise a good law-maker, for 
the ease and solace of the common people; yet his 
cruelties and parricides, in the opinion of all men, 
weighed down his virtues and merits; and, in the 
opinion of wise men, even those virtues themselves 
were conceived to be rather feigned and affected 
things to serve his ambition, than true qualities in- 
generate in his judgement or nature. And therefore 
it was noted by men of great understanding, who 
seeing his after-acts, looked back upon his former 
proceedings, that even in the time of King Edward 
his brother, he was not without secret trains and 
mines to turn envy and hatred upon his brother's 
government; as having an expectation and a kind 
of divination, that the king, by reason of his many 
disorders, could not be of long life, but was like to 
leave his sons of tender years; and then he knew 


HISPORY OF KING HENRY VII. 107 


well, how easy a step. it was, from the place of a 
protector, and first prince of the blood, to the crown. 
And that out of this deep root of ambition it sprang, 
that as well at the treaty of peace that passed be- 
tween Edward the Fourth and Lewis the Eleventh 
of France, concluded by interview of both kings at 
Piqueny, as upon all other occasions, Richard, then 
duke of Gloucester, stood ever upon the side of 
honour, raising his own reputation to the disadvan- 
tage of the king his brother, and drawing the eyes 
of all, especially of the nobles and soldiers, upon 
himself; as if the king, by his voluptuous life and 
mean marriage, were become effeminate and_ less 
sensible of honour and reason of state than was fit 
fora king. And as for the politic and wholesome 
laws which were enacted in his time, they were in- 
terpreted to be but the brocage of an usurper, 
thereby to woo and win the hearts of the people, as 
being conscious to himself, that the true obligations 
of sovereignty in him failed, and were wanting. But 
King Henry, in the very entrance of his reign, and 
the instant of time when the kingdom was cast into 
his arms, met with a point of great difficulty, and 
knotty to solve, able to trouble and confound the 
wisest king in the newness of his estate; and so 
much the more, because it could not endure a deli- 
beration, but must be at once deliberated and deter- 
mined. ‘There were fallen to his lot, and concurrent 
in his person, three several titles to the imperial 
crown. The first, the title of the lady Elizabeth, 
with whom, by precedent pact with the party that 


108 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


brought him in, he was to marry. The second, the 
ancient and long disputed title, both by plea and 
arms, of the house of Lancaster, to which he was in- 
heritor in his own person. The third, the title of 
the sword or conquest, for that he came in by victory 
of battle, and that the king in possession was slain 
in the field. The first of these was fairest, and most 
like to give contentment to the people, who by two 
and twenty years reign of King Edward the Fourth 
had been fully made capable of the clearness of the 
title of the white rose, or house of York ; and by the 
mild and plausible reign of the same king towards 
his latter time, were become affectionate to that line. 
But then it lay plain before his eyes, that if he relied 
upon that title, he could be but a king at courtesy, 
and have rather a matrimonial than a regal power ; 
the right remaining in his queen, upon whose de- 
cease, either with issue or without issue, he was to 
give place and be removed. And though he should 
obtain by parliament to be continued, yet he knew 
there was a very great difference between a king 
that holdeth his crown by a civil act of estates, and 
one that holdeth it originally by the law of nature 
and descent of blood. Neither wanted there even at 
that time secret rumours and whisperings, which 
afterwards gathered strength and turned to great 
troubles, that the two young sons of King Edward 
the Fourth, or one of them, which were said to be 
destroyed in the Tower, were not indeed murdered, 
but conveyed secretly away, and were yet living : 
which, if it had been true, had prevented the title of 


. 


yo 
4 
tis 
' ¢ 
. 


a 


oe 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. To9 


the lady Elizabeth. On the other side, if he stood: 
upon his own title of the house of Lancaster, in- 
herent in his person, he knew it was a title con- 
demned by parliament, and generally prejudged in 
the common opinion of the realm, and that it tended 
directly to the disinherison of the line of York, held 
then the indubitate heirs of the crown. So that if 
he should have no issue by the lady Elizabeth, 
which should be descendants of the double line, then 
the ancient flames of discord and intestine wars, 
upon the competition of both houses, would again 
return and revive. 

As for conquest, notwithstanding Sir William 
Stanley, after some acclamations of the soldiers in 
the field, had put a crown of ornament, which 
Richard wore in the battle, and was found amongst 
the spoils, upon King Henry’s head, as if there were 
his chief title; yet he remembered well upon what 
conditions and agreements he was brought in; and 
that to claim as conqueror, was to put as well his 
own party, as the rest, into terror and fear; as that 
which gave him power of disannulling of laws, and 
disposing of men’s fortunes and estates, and the like 
points of absolute power, being in themselves so 
harsh and odious, as that William himself, commonly 
called the Conqueror, howsoever he used and exer- 
cised the power of a conqueror to reward his 
‘Normans, yet he forbore to use that claim in the 
beginning, but mixed it with a titulary pretence, 
grounded upon the will and designation of Edward 


the Confessor. But the king, out of the greatness 


A 


110 HISTORY OF-KING HENRY VII. 


of his own mind, presently cast the die; and the in- 
conveniences appearing unto him on all parts, and 
knowing there could not be any interreign, or 
suspension of title, and preferring his affection to 
his own line and blood, and liking that title best 
which made him independent; and being in his 
nature and constitution of mind not very apprehen- 
sive or forecasting of future events afar off, but an 
entertainer of fortune by the day; resolved to rest 
upon the title of Lancaster as the main, and to use 
the other two, that of marriage, and that of battle, 
but as supporters, the one to appease secret discon- 
tents, and the other to beat down open murmur and 
dispute: not forgetting that the same title of Lan- 
caster had formerly maintained a possession of three 
descents in the crown; and might have proved a 
perpetuity, had it not ended in the weakness and 
inability of the last prince. Whereupon the king 
presently that very day, being the two and twen- 
tieth of August, assumed the style of king in his own 
name, without mention of the lady Elizabeth at all, 
or any relation thereunto. In which course he ever 
after persisted: which did spin him a thread of many 
seditions and troubles. The king, full of these 
thoughts, before his departure from Leicester, dis- 
patched Sir Robert Willoughby to the castle of 
Sheriff Hutton, in Yorkshire, where were kept in 
safe custody, by King Richard’s commandment, both 
the lady Elizabeth, daughter of King Edward, and 
Edward Plantagenet, son and heir to George, duke 
of Clarence. This Edward was by the king’s war- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 111 


rant delivered from the constable of the castle to the 
hand of Sir Robert Willoughby: and by him with 
all safety and diligence conveyed to the Tower of 
London, where he was shut up close prisoner. 
Which act of the king’s, being an act merely of 
policy and power, proceeded not so much from any 
apprehension he had of doctor Shaw’s tale at Paul’s 
cross for the bastarding of Edward the Fourth’s 
issues, in which case this young gentleman was to 
succeed, for that fable was ever exploded, but upon 
a settled disposition to depress all eminent persons 
of the line of York. Wherein still the king out of 
strength of will, or weakness of judgement, did use 
to shew a little more of the party than of the king. 
For the lady Elizabeth, she received also a direc- 
tion to repair with all convenient speed to London, 
and there to remain with the queen dowager her 
mother; which accordingly she soon after did, ac- 
companied with many noblemen and ladies of honour. 
In the mean season the king set forwards by easy 
journeys to the city of London, receiving the accla- 
mations and applauses of the people as he went, 
which indeed were true and unfeigned, as might 
well appear in the very demonstrations and fulness 
of the cry. For they thought generally, that he was a 
prince, as ordained and sent down from heaven, to 
unite and put to an end the long dissensions of the 
two houses; which although they had had, in the 
times of Henry the Fourth, Henry the Fifth, and a 
part of Henry the Sixth, on the one side, and the 
times of Edward the Fourth on the other, lucid in- 


112 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIL. 


tervals and happy pauses; yet they did ever hang 
over the kingdom, ready to break forth into new 
perturbations and calamities. And as his victory 
gave him the knee, so his purpose of marriage with 
the lady Elizabeth gave him the heart ; so that both 
knee and heart did truly bow before him. 

He on the other side with great wisdom, not ig- 
norant of the affections and fears of the people, to 
disperse the conceit and terror of a conquest, had 
given order, that there should be nothing in his 
journey like unto a warlike march or manner; but 
rather like unto the progress of a king in full peace 
and assurance. 

He entered the city upon a Saturday, as he had 
also obtained the victory upon a Saturday; which 
day of the week, first upon an observation, and after 
upon memory and fancy, he accounted and chose as 
a day prosperous unto him. 

The mayor and companies of the city received 
him at Shoreditch; whence with great and honour- 
able attendance, and troops of noblemen, and persons 
of quality, he entered the city; himself not being on 
horseback, or in any open chair or throne, but in a 
close chariot, as one that having been sometimes an 
enemy to the whole state, and a proscribed person, 
chose rather to keep state, and strike a reverence 
into the people, than to fawn upon them. 

He went first into St. Paul’s church, where, not 
meaning that the people should forget too soon that 
he came in by battle, he made offertory of his stand- 
ards, and had orisons and “ Te Deum” again sung ; 


“ wes OF KING HENRY VII. 113 


and went to his lodging prepared in the bishop of 
London’s palace, where he stayed for a time. 

During his abode there, he assembled his council 
and other principal persons, in presence of whom he 
did renew again his promise to marry with the lady 
Elizabeth, This he did the rather, because having 
at his coming out of Britain given artificially, for 
serving of his own turn, some hopes in case he ob- 
tained the kingdom, to marry Anne, inheritress to 
the duchy of Britain, whom Charles the Eighth of 
France soon after married, it bred some doubt and 
suspicion amongst divers that he was not sincere, or 
at least not fixed in going on with the match of 
England so much desired: which conceit also, 
though it were but talk and discourse, did much 
afflict the poor lady Elizabeth herself. But howso- 
ever he both truly intended it, and desired also it 
should be so believed, the better to extinguish envy 
and contradiction to his other purposes, yet was he 
resolved in himself not to proceed to the consumma- 
tion thereof, till his coronation and a parliament 
were past. The one, lest a joint coronation of him- 
self and his queen might give any countenance of 
participation of title; the other, lest in the entailing 
of the crown to himself, which he hoped to obtain by 
parliament, the votes of the parliament might any 
ways reflect upon her. 

About this time in autumn, towards the end of 
September, there began and reigned in the city, and 
other parts of the kingdom, a disease then new: 
which by the accidents and manner thereof they 


114 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. — 


called the sweating sickness, This disease had a 
swift course, both in the sick body, and in the time 
and period of the lasting thereof; for they that were 
taken with it, upon four and twenty hours escaping, 
were thought almost assured. And as to the time 
of the malice and reign of the disease ere it ceased ; 
it began about the one and twentieth of September, 
and cleared up before the end of October, insomuch 
as it was no hinderance to the king’s coronation, 
which was the last of October ; nor, which was more, 
to the holding of the parliament, which began but 
seven days after. It was a pestilent fever, but, as it 
seemeth, not seated in the veins or humours, for that 
there followed no carbuncle, no purple or livid spots, 
or the like, the mass of the body being not tainted ; 
only a malign vapour flew to the heart, and seized 
the vital spirits; which stirred nature to strive to 
send it forth by an extreme sweat. And it appeared 
by experience, that this disease was rather a surprise 
of nature than obstinate to remedies, if it were in 
time looked unto.* Forif the patient were kept in 
an equal temper, both for clothes, fire, and drink, 
moderately warm, with temperate cordials, whereby 
nature’s work was neither irritated by heat, nor 
turned back by cold, he commonly recovered. But 
infinite persons died suddenly of it, before the 
manner of the cure and attendance was known. It 
was conceived not to be an epidemic disease, but to 
proceed from a malignity in the constitution of the 


* See Note A at the end of this volume. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 115 


air, gathered by the predispositions of seasons; and 
the speedy cessation declared as much. 

On Simon and Jude’s even the king dined with 
Thomas Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury and 
cardinal: and from Lambeth went by land over the 
bridge to the ‘Tower, where the morrow after he made 
twelve knights bannerets. But for creations he dis- 
pensed them with a sparing hand. For notwith- 
standing a field so lately fought, and a coronation so 
near at hand, he only created three: Jasper, earl of 
Pembroke, the king’s uncle, was created Duke of 
Bedford ; Thomas, the Lord Stanley, the king’s 
father-in-law, Earl of Derby ; and Edward Courtney, 
Earl of Devon; though the king had then never- 
theless a purpose in himself to make more in time of 
parliament; bearing a wise and decent respect to 
distribute his creations, some to honour his corona- 
tion, and some his parliament. 

The coronation followed two days after, upon 
the thirtieth day of October, in the year of our Lord 
1485; at which time Innocent the Eighth was Pope 
of Rome ; Frederick the Third, Emperor of Almain; 
and Maximilian his son newly chosen King of the 
Romans ; Charles the Eighth, King of France; Fer- 
dinando and Isabella, Kings of Spain; and James 
the Third, King of Scotland: with all which kings 
and states the king was at that time in good peace and 
amity. At which day also, as if the crown upon his 
head had put perils into his thoughts, he did insti- 
tute, for the better security of his person, a band of 
fifty archers, under a captain, to attend him, by the 
name of yeomen of his guard: and yet that it might 


116 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


be thought to be rather a matter of dignity, after 
the imitation of that he had known abroad, than 
any matter of diffidence appropriate to his own case, 
he made it to be understood for an ordinance not 
temporary, but to hold in succession for ever after. 
The seventh of November the king held his par- 
liament at Westminster, which he had summoned 
immediately after his coming to London. His ends 
in calling a parliament, and that so speedily, were 
chiefly three: first to procure the crown to be en- 
tailed upon himself. Next, to have the attainders 
of all of his party, which were in no small number, 
reversed, and all acts of hostility by them done in his 
quarrel remitted and discharged ; and on the other 
side, to attaint by parliament the heads and _ princi- 
pals of his enemies. The third, to calm and quiet 
the fears of the rest of that party by a general par- 
don; not being ignorant in how great danger a king 
stands from his subjects, when most of his subjects 
are conscious in themselves that they stand in his 
danger. Unto these three special motives of a par- 
liament was added, that he, as a prudent and mode- 
rate prince, made this judgement, that it was fit for 
him to hasten to let his people sec, that he meant to 
govern by law, howsoever he came in by the sword ; 
and fit also to reclaim them to know him for their 
king, whom they had so lately talked of as an enemy 
or banished man. For that which concerned the 
entailing of the crown, more than that he was true to 
his own will, that he would not endure any mention 
of the lady Elizabeth, no not in the nature of special 
entail, he carried it otherwise with great wisdom and 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 117 


measure: for he did not press to have the act penned 
by way of declaration or recognition of right ; as, on 
the other side, he avoided to have it by new law 
or ordinance, but chose rather a kind of middle way, 
by way of establishment, and that under covert and 
indifferent words :“ that the inheritance of the crown 
“ should rest, remain, and abide in the king,” &c. 
which words might equally be applied, that the 
crown shoall continue to him; but whether as having 
former right to it, which was doubtful, or having it 
then in fact and possession, which no man denied, 
was left fair to interpretation either way. And 
again, for the limitation of the entail], he did not 
press it to go farther than to himself and to the heirs 
of his body, not speaking of his right heirs, but leay- 
ing that to the law to decide; so as the entail might 
seem rather a personal favour to him and his chil- 
dren, than a total disinherison to the house of York; 
and in this form was the law drawn and passed. 
Which statute he procured to be confirmed by the 
pope’s bull the year following, with mention never- 
theless, by way of recital, of his other titles, both of 
descent and conquest : so as now the wreath of three 
was made a wreath of five; for to the three first 
titles of the two houses, or lines, and conquest, were 
added two more, the authorities parliamentary and 
papal. 

The king likewise, in the reversal of the at- 
tainders of his partakers, and discharging them of all 
offences incident to his service and succour, had his 
will ; and acts did pass accordingly. In the passage 


118 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


whereof, exception was taken to divers persons in the 
house of commons, for that they were attainted, and 
thereby not legal nor habilitate to serve in parlia- 
ment, being disabled in the highest degree , and that 
it should be a great incongruity to have them to 
make laws who themselves were not inlawed. The 
truth was, that divers of those which had in the time 
of King Richard been strongest, and most declared 
for the king’s party, were returned knights and bur- 
gesses for the parliament, whether by care or recom- 
mendation from the state, or the voluntary inclina- 
tion of the people; many of which had been by 
Richard the Third attainted by outlawries or other- 
wise. The king was somewhat troubled with this ; 
for though it had a grave and specious shew, yet it 
reflected upon his party. But wisely not shewing 
himself at all moved therewith, he would not under- 
stand it but as a case in law, and wished the judges 
to be advised thereupon; who for that purpose were 
forthwith assembled in the Exchequer chamber, which 
is the council chamber of the judges, and upon deli- 
beration they gave a grave and safe opinion and ad- 
vice, mixed with law and convenience; which was, 
that the knights and burgesses attainted by the 
course of law should forbear to come into the house 
till a law were passed for the reversal of their 
attainders. 

It was at that time incidently moved amongst 
the judges in their consultation, what should be done 
for the king himself, who likewise was attainted ? 
But it was with unanimous consent resolved, “‘ That 


— a 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 119 


“the crown takes away all defects and stops in 
“ blood: and that from the time the king did assume 
“ the crown the fountain was cleared, and all at- 
“tainders and corruption of blood discharged.” 
But nevertheless, for honour’s sake, it was ordained 
by parliament, that all records, wherein there was 
any memory or mention*of the king’s attainder, 
should be defaced, cancelled, and taken off the file. 
But on the part of the king’s enemies there were 
by parliament attainted, the late Duke of Gloucester, 
calling himself Richard the Third ; the Duke of Nor- 
folk, the Earl of Surrey, Viscount Lovel, the Lord ° 
Ferrers, the Lord Zouch, Richard Ratcliffe, William 
Catesby, and many others of degree and quality. In 
which bills of attainders, nevertheless, there were 
contained many just and temperate clauses, savings, 
and provisoes, well shewing and fore-tokening the 
wisdom, stay, and moderation of the king’s spirit of - 
government. And for the pardon of the rest that 
had stood against the king, the king, upon a second 
advice, thought it not fit it should pass by parlia- 
ment, the better, being matter of grace, to impro- 
priate the thanks to himself, using only the opportu- 
nity of a parliament time, the better to disperse it into 
the veins of the kingdom. Therefore during the par- 
liament he published his royal proclamation, offer- 
ing pardon and grace of restitution to all such as had 
taken arms, or been participant of any attempts 
against him, so as they submitted themselves to his 
mercy by a day, and took the oath of allegiance 
and fidelity to him. Whereupon many came out of 


‘%- ™ 


> 
~ 
24 
» 


120 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


sanctuary, and many more came out of fear, no less 
guilty than those that had taken sanctuary. 

As for money or treasure, the king thought it 
not seasonable or fit to demand any of his subjects at 
this parliament ; both because he had received satis- 
faction from them in matters of so great importance, 
and because he could not remunerate them with any 
general pardon, being prevented therein by the 
coronation-pardon passed immediately before: but 
chiefly, for that it was in every man’s eye, what great 
forfeitures and confiscations he had at that present 
to help himself, whereby those casualties of the 
crown might in reason spare the purses of the sub- 
ject, especially in a time when he was in peace with 
all his neighbours. Some few laws passed at that 
parliament almost for form’s sake; amongst which 
there was one to reduce aliens being made denizens, 
to pay strangers customs ; and another to draw to 
himself the seizures and compositions of Italians’ 
goods, for not employment, being points of profit to 
his coffers, whereof from the very beginning he was 
not forgetful ; and had been more happy at the latter 
end, if his early providence, which kept him from all 
necessity of exacting upon his people, could likewise 
have attempered his nature therein. He added, 
during parliament, to his former creations, the en- 
noblement or advancement in nobility of a few 
others ; the Lord Chandos of Britain, was made Earl 
of Bath; Sir Giles Daubeney, was made Lord Dau- 
beney ; and Sir Robert Willoughby, Lord Brook. 

The king did also with great nobleness and 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 121 


bounty, which virtues at that time had their turns in 
his nature, restore Edward Stafford, eldest son to 
Henry, duke of Buckingham, attainted in the time 
of King Richard, not only to his dignities, but to his 
fortunes and possessions, which were great: to 
which he was moved also by a kind of gratitude, for 
that the duke was the man that moved the first stone 
against the tyranny of King Richard, and indeed 
made the king a bridge to the crown upon his own 
ruins. Thus the parliament brake up. 

The parliament being dissolved, the king sent 
forthwith money to redeem the marquis Dorset and 
sir John Bourchier, whom he had left as his pledges 
at Paris for money which he had borrowed when he 
made his expedition for England. And thereupon 
he took a fit occasion to send the lord Treasurer and 
master Bray, whom he used as counsellor, to the 
lord mayor of London, requiring of the city a prest 
of six thousand marks; but after many parleys he 
could obtain but two thousand pounds ; which never- 
theless the king took iu good part, as men use to do 
that practise to borrow money when they have no 
need. About this time, the king called unto his 
privy council John Morton and Richard Fox, the 
one bishop of Ely, the other bishop of Exeter; vi- 
gilant men and secret, and such as kept watch with him 
almost upon all men else. They had been both versed 
in his affairs before he came to the crown, and were 
partakers of his adverse fortune. This Morton soon 
after, upon the death of Bourchier, he made arch- 
bishop of Canterbury. And for Fox, he made him 

VOL. 3. K 


122 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


lord keeper of his privy seal, and afterwards advanced 
him by degrees, from Exeter to Bath and Wells, 
thence to Durham, and last to Winchester. For 
although the king loved to employ and advance 
bishops, because, having rich bishopricks, they car- 
ried their reward upon themselves ; yet he did use to 
raise them by steps, that he might not lose the profit 
of the first fruits, which by that course of gradation 
was multiplied. 

At last, upon the eighteenth of January, was 
solemnized the so long expected and so much desired 
marriage between the king and lady Elizabeth; 
which day of marriage was celebrated with greater 
triumph and demonstrations, especially on the 
people’s part, of joy and gladness, than the days 
either of his entry or coronation, which the king 
rather noted than liked. And it is true, that all his 
life-time, while the lady Elizabeth lived with him, 
for she died before him, he shewed himself no very 
indulgent husband towards her, though she was 
beautiful, gentle, and fruitful. But his aversion to- 
wards the house of York was so predominant in him, 
as it found place not only in his wars and councils, 
but in his chamber and bed. 

Towards the middle of the spring, the king, full 
of confidence and assurance, as a prince that had 
been victorious in battle, and had prevailed with his 
parliament in all that he desired, and had the ring 
of acclamations fresh in his ears, thought the rest of 
his reign should be but play, and the enjoying of a 
kingdom: yet, as a wise and watchful king, he 


ee ee a ae 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 123 


would not neglect any thing for his safety, thinking 
nevertheless to perform all things now rather as an 
exercise than as a labour. So he being truly in- 
formed that the northern parts were not only affec- 
tionate to the house of York, but particularly had 
been devoted to King Richard the Third, thought it 
would be a summer well spent to visit those parts, 
and by his presence and application of himself to re- 
claim and rectify those humours. But the king, in 
his account of peace and calms, did much overcast 
his fortunes, which proved for many years together 
full of broken seas, tides, and tempests. For he was 
no sooner come to Lincoln, where he kept his Easter, 
but he received news that the Lord Lovel, Hum- 
phrey Stafford, and Thomas Stafford, who had for- 
merly taken sanctuary at Colchester, were departed 
out of sanctuary, but to what place no man could 
tell: which advertisement the king despised, and 
continued his journey to York. At York there came 
fresh and more certain advertisement, that the Lord 
Lovel was at hand with a great power of men, and 
that the Staffords were in arms in Worcestershire, 
and had made their approaches to the city of Wor- 
cester to assail it. The king, as a prince of great 
and profound judgement, was not much moved with 
it; for that he thought it was but a rag or remnant 
of Bosworth-field, and had nothing in it of the main 
party of the house of York. But he was more 
doubtful of the raising of forces to resist the rebels, 
than of the resistance itself; for that he was in a 
core of people whose affections he suspected. But 


124. HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


the action enduring no delay, he did speedily levy 
and send against the Lord Lovel to the number of 
three thousand men, ill armed, but well assured, be- 
ing taken some few out of his own train, and the 
rest out of the tenants and followers of such as were 
safe to be trusted, under the conduct of the Duke of 
Bedford. And as his manner was to send his par- 
dons rather before the sword than after, he gave 
commission to the duke to proclaim pardon to all 
that would come in; which the duke, upon his ap- 
proach to the Lord Lovel’s camp, did perform. And 
it fell out as the king expected ; the heralds were the 
great ordnance. For the Lord Lovel, upon procla- 
mation of pardon, mistrusting his men, fled into Lan- 
cashire, and lurking for a time with Sir Thomas 
Broughton, after sailed over into Flanders to the 
Lady Margaret; and his men, forsaken of their 
captain, did presently submit themselves to the duke. 
The Staffords likewise, and their forces, hearing 
what had happened to the Lord Lovel, in whose 
success their chief trust was, despaired and dispersed. 
The two brothers taking sanctuary at Colnham, a 
village near Abingdon; which place, upon view of 
their privilege in the king’s bench, being judged no 
sufficient sanctuary for traitors, Humphrey was 
executed at Tyburn , and Thomas, as being led by 
his elder brother, was pardoned. So this rebellion 
proved but a blast, and the king having by this jour- 
ney purged a little the dregs and leaven of the 
northern people that were before in no good affec- 
tion towards him, returned to London. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 125 


In September following the queen was delivered 
of her first son, whom the king, in honour of the 
British race, of which himself was, named Arthur, 
according to the name of that ancient worthy king 
of the Britains, in whose acts there is truth enough 
to make him famous, besides that which is fabulous. 
The child was strong and able, though he was born in 
the eighth month, which the physicians do prejudge.* 

There followed this year, being the second of the 
king’s reign, a strange accident of state, whereof the 
relations which we have are so naked, as they leave 
it scarce credible; not for the nature of it, for it hath 
fallen out often, but for the manner and circum. 
stance of it, especially in the beginnings. There- 
fore we shall make our judgement upon the things 
themselves, as they give light one to another, and as 
we can dig truth out of the mine. The king was 
green in his estate ; and, contrary to his own opinion 
and desert both, was not without much hatred 
throughout the realm. The root of all was the dis- 
countenancing of the house of York, which the general 
body of the realm still affected. This did alienate 
the hearts of the subjects from him daily more and 
more, especially when they saw, that after his mar- 
riage, and after a son born, the king did nevertheless 
not so much as proceed to the coronation of the 
queen, not vouchsafing her the honour of a matri- 
monial crown; for the coronation of her was not till 
almost two years after, when danger had taught him 
what to do. But much more when it was spread 


* See Note B at the end. 


126 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


abroad, whether by error, or the cunning of malcon- 
tents, that the king had a purpose to put to death 
Edward Plantagenet closely in the Tower: whose 
case was so nearly paralleled with that of Edward 
the Fourth’s children, in respect of the blood, like 
age, and the very place of the Tower, as it did 
refresh and reflect upon the king a most odious re- 
semblance, as if he would be another King Richard. 
And all this time it was still whispered every where, 
that at least one of the children of Edward the 
Fourth was living: which bruit was cunningly 
fomented by such as desired innovation. Neither 
was the king’s nature and customs greatly fit to dis- 
perse these mists, but contrariwise, he had a fashion 
rather to create doubts than assurance. ‘Thus was 
fuel prepared for the spark : the spark, that after- 
wards kindled such a fire and combustion, was at the 
first contemptible. 

There was a subtile priest called Richard Simon,* 
that lived in Oxford, and had to his pupil a baker’s 
son, named Lambert Simnell, of the age of some 
fifteen years, a comely youth, and well favoured, not 
without some extraordinary dignity and grace of 
aspect. It came into this priest’s fancy, hearing 
what men talked, and in hope to raise himself to 
some great bishoprick, to cause this lad to counter- 
feit and personate the second son of Edward the 


* The priest’s name was William Simonds, and the youth 


was the son of an organ-maker in Oxford, as the priest 
declared before the whole convocation of the clergy at Lambeth, 
Feb. 17, 1486.—Vide Reg. Morton f. 34. MS. Sandcroft.— 


Note from a former but not the original edition. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 127 


Fourth, supposed to be murdered; and afterward, 
for he changed his intention in the manage, the Lord 
Edward Plantagenet, then prisoner in the Tower, 
and accordingly to frame him and instruct him in 
the part he was to play. This is that which, as was 
touched before, seemeth scarcely credible ; not that a 
false person should be assumed to gain a kingdom, 
for it hath been seen in ancient and late times; nor 
that it should come into the mind of such an abject 
fellow to enterprise so great a matter; for high con- 
ceits do sometimes come streaming into the minds and 
imaginations of base persons, especially when they are 
_ drunk with news and talk of the people. But here 
is that which hath no appearance : that this priest, 
being utterly unacquainted with the true person, 
according to whose pattern he should shape his 
counterfeit, should think it possible for him to in- 
struct his player, either in gesture and fashions, or in 
recounting past matters of his life and education ; 
or in fit answers to questions, or the like, any ways 
to come near the resemblance of him whom he was 
to represent. Tor this lad was not to personate one 
that had been long before taken out of his cradle, or 
conveyed away in his infancy, known to few; but a 
youth, that till the age almost of ten years had been 
brought up in a court where infinite eyes had been 
upon him. For King Edward, touched with re- 
morse of his brother the Duke of Clarence’s death, 
would not indeed restore his son, of whom we speak, 
to be Duke of Clarence, but yet created him Earl of 
Warwick reviving his honour on the mother’s side ; 


te 


128 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


and used him honourably during his time, though 
Richard the Third afterwards confined him. So that 
it cannot be, but that some great person that knew 
particularly and familiarly Edward Plantagenet, 
had a hand in the business, from whom the priest 
might take his aim. That which is most probable, 
out of the precedent and subsequent acts is, that it 
was the queen dowager from whom this action had 
the principal source and motion. For certain it is, 
she was a busy negotiating woman, and in her with- 
drawing-chamber had the fortunate conspiracy for 
the king against King Richard the Third been 
hatched; which the king knew, and remembered 
perhaps but too well; and was at this time extremely 
discontent with the king, thinking her daughter, as 
the king handled the matter, not advanced but de- 
pressed: and none could hold the book so well to 
prompt and instruct this stage-play as she could. 
Nevertheless it was not her meaning, nor no more was 
it the meaning of any of the better and sager sort that 
favoured this enterprise, and knew the secret, that 
this disguised idol should possess the crown; but at 
his peril to make way to the overthrow of the king; 
and that done they had their several hopes and ways. 
That which doth chiefly fortify this conjecture is, 
that as soon as the matter brake forth in any strength, 
it was one of the king’s first acts to cloister the 
queen dowager in the nunnery of Bermondsey, and 
to take away all her lands and estate ; and this by a 
close council, without any legal proceeding, upon far 
fetched pretences that she had delivered her two 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 129 


daughters out of sanctuary to King Richard, con- 
trary to promise. Which proceeding being even at 
that time taxed for rigorous and undue, both in 
matter and manner, makes it very probable there 
was some greater matter against her, which the king, 
upon reason of policy, and to avoid envy, would not 
publish. It is likewise no small argument that there 
was some secret in it, and some suppressing of 
examinations, for that the priest Simon himself, after 
he was taken, was never brought to execution; no 
not so much as to public trial, as many clergymen 
were upon less treasons, but was only shut up close 
inadungeon. Add to this, that after the earl of 
Lincoln, a principal person of the house of York, 
was slain in Stoke-field, the king opened himself to 
some of his council, that he was sorry for the earl’s 
death, because by him, he said, he might have 
known the bottom of his danger. 

But to return to the narration itself: Simon did 
first instruct his scholar for the part of Richard, 
duke of York, second son to King Edward the 
Fourth; and this was at such time as it was voiced, 
that the king purposed to put to death Edward 
Plantagenet, prisoner in the Tower, whereat there 
was great murmur. But hearing soon after a ge- 
neral bruit that Plantagenet had escaped out of the 
Tower, and thereby finding him so much beloved 
amongst the people, and such rejoicing at his escape, 
the cunning priest changed his copy, and chose now 
Plantagenet to be the subject his pupil should per- 
sonate, because he was more in the present speech 


130 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


and votes of the people; and it pieced better, and 
followed more close and handsomely, upon the bruit 
of Plantagenet’s escape. But yet doubting that 
there would be too near looking, and too much per- 
spective into his disguise, if he should shew it here 
in England; he thought good, after the manner of 
scenes in stage plays and masks, to shew it afar off; 
and therefore sailed with his scholar into Ireland, 
where the affection to the house of York was most in 
height. The king had been a little improvident in 
the matters of Ireland, and had not removed officers 
and counsellors, and put in their places, or at least 
intermingled, persons of whom he stood assured, as 
he should have done, since he knew the strong bent 
of that country towards the house of York ; and that 
it was a ticklish and unsettled state, more easy to 
receive distempers and mutations than England was. 
But trusting to the reputation of his victories and 
successes in England, he thought he should have 
time enough to extend his cares afterwards to that 
second kingdom. 

Wherefore through this neglect, upon the coming 
of Simon with his pretended Plantagenet into Ire- 
land, all things were prepared for revolt and sedition, 
almost as if they had been set and plotted beforehand. 
Simon’s first address was to the Lord Thomas Fitz- 
Gerard, Earl of Kildare, and deputy of Ireland ; 
before whose eyes he did cast such a mist, by his 
own insinuation, and by the carriage of his youth, 
that expressed a natural princely behaviour, as joined 
perhaps with some inward vapours of ambition and 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 131 


affection in the earl’s own mind, left him fully pos- 
sessed, that it was the true Plantagenet. The earl 
presently communicated the matter with some of 
the nobles, and others there, at the first secretly ; 
but finding them of like affection to himself, he 
suffered it of purpose to vent and pass abroad; 
because they thought it not safe to resolve, till they 
had a taste of the people’s inclination. But if the 
great ones were in forwardness, the people were in 
fury, entertaining this airy body or phantasm with 
incredible affection ; partly, out of their great devo- 
tion to the house of York; partly, out of a proud 
humour in the nation, to give a king to the realm of 
England. Neither did the party, in this heat of af- 
fection, much trouble themselves with the attainder 
of George, duke of Clarence; having newly learned 
by the king’s example, that attainders do not inter- 
rupt the conveying of title to the crown. And as 
for the daughters of King Edward the Fourth, they 
thought King Richard had said enough for them; 
and took them to be but as of the king’s party, be- 
cause they were in his power and at his disposing. 
So that with marvellous consent and applause, this 
counterfeit Plantagenet was brought with great 
solemnity to the castle of Dublin, and there saluted, 
served, and honoured as king; the boy becoming it 
well, and doing nothing that did bewray the base- 
ness of his condition. And within a few days after 
he was proclaimed king, in Dublin, by the name of 
King EdWard the Sixth; there being not a sword 
drawn in King Henry’s quarrel. 


182 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


The king was much moved with this unexpected 
accident when it came to his ears, both because it 
struck upon that string which ever he most feared, 
as also because it was stirred in such a place, where 
he could not with safety transfer his own person to 
suppress it. For partly through natural valour, and 
partly through an universal suspicion, not knowing 
whom to trust, he was ever ready to wait upon all 
his achievements in’ person. The king therefore 
first called his council together at the Charter-house 
at Shine ; which council was held with great secrecy, 
but the open decrees thereof, which presently came 
abroad, were three. 

The first was, that the queen dowager, for that 
she, contrary to her pact and agreement with those 
that had concluded with her concerning the marriage 
of her daughter Elizabeth with King Henry, had 
nevertheless delivered her daughters out of sanctuary 
into King Richard’s hands, should be cloistered in 
the nunnery of Bermondsey, and forfeit all her lands 
and goods. 

The next was, that Edward Plantagenet, then 
close prisoner in the Tower, should be, in the most 
public and notorious manner that could be devised, 
shewed unto the people: in part to discharge the 
king of the envy of that opinion and bruit, how he 
had been put to death privily in the Tower; but 
chiefly to make the people see the levity and impos-. 
ture of the proceedings of Ireland, and that their 
Plantagenet was indeed but a puppet or a counter- 
feit. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 133 


The third was, that there should be again pro- 
claimed a general pardon to all that would reveal 
their offences, and submit themselves by a day. And 
that this pardon should be conceived in so ample 
and liberal a manner, as no high treason, no not 
against the king’s own person, should be excepted. 
Which though it might seem strange, yet was it not 
so to a wise king, that knew his greatest dangers 
were not from the least treasons, but from the 
greatest. These resolutions of the king and his 
council were immediately put in execution. And 
first, the queen dowager was put into the monastery 
of Bermondsey, and all her estates seized into the 
king’s hands: whereat there.was much wondering ; 
that a weak woman, for the yielding to the menaces 
and promises of a tyrant, after such a distance of 
time, wherein the king had shewed no displeasure 
nor alteration, but much more after so happy a 
marriage between the king and her daughter, blessed 
with issue male, should, upon a sudden mutability 
or disclosure of the king’s mind, be so severely 
handled. 

This lady was amongst the examples of great 
variety of fortune. She had first from a distressed 
suitor, and desolate widow, been taken to the 
marriage bed of a bachelor king, the goodliest per- 
sonage of his time; and even in his reign she had 
endured a strange eclipse by the king’s flight, and 
temporary depriving from the crown. She was also 
very happy, in that she had by him fair issue; and 
continued his nuptial love, helping herself by some 


134 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


obsequious bearing and dissembling of his pleasures, 
to the very end. She was much affectionate to her 
own kindred, even unto faction; which did stir 
great envy in the lords of the king’s side, who 
counted her blood a disparagement to be mingled 
with the king’s. With which lords of the king’s 
blood joined also the king’s favourite, the Lord 
Hastings; who, notwithstanding the king’s great 
affection to him, was thought at times, through her 
malice and spleen, not to be out of danger of falling. 
After her husband’s death she was matter of tragedy, 
having lived to see her brother beheaded, and her 
two sons deposed from the crown, bastarded in their 
blood, and cruelly murdered. All this while never- 
theless she enjoyed her liberty, state, and fortunes : 
but afterwards again, upon the rise of the wheel, 
when she had a king to her son-in-law, and was 
made grandmother to a grandchild of the best sex ; 
yet was she, upon dark and unknown reasons, and 
no less strange pretences, precipitated and banished 
the world into a nunnery; where it was almost 
thought dangerous to visit her, or see her; and 
where not long after she ended her life: but was 
by the king’s commandment buried with the king 
her husband, at Windsor. She was foundress of 
Queen’s College, in Cambridge. For this act the 
king sustained great obloquy, which nevertheless, 
besides the reason of state, was somewhat sweetened 
to him by a great confiscation. 

About this time also, Edward Plantagenet. was 
upon a Sunday brought throughout all the principal 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 135 


streets of London, to be seen of the people. And 
having passed the view of the streets, was conducted 
to Paul’s Church in solemn procession, where great 
store of people were assembled. And it was pro- 
vided also in good fashion, that divers of the nobility, 
and others of quality, especially of those that the 


. king most suspected, and knew the person of Plan- 


tagenet best, had communication with the young 
gentleman by the way, and entertained him with 
speech and discourse ; which did in effect mar the 
pageant in Ireland with the subjects here, at least 
with so many, as out of error, and not out of malice, 
might be misled. Nevertheless in Ireland, where it 
was too late to go back, it wrought little or no effect. 
But contrariwise, they turned the imposture upon 
the king ; and gave out, that the king, to defeat the 
true inheritor, and to mock the world, and blind the 
eyes of simple men, had tricked up a boy in the 
likeness of Edward Plantagenet, and shewed him 
to the people ; not sparing to profane the ceremony 
of a procession, the more to countenance the fable. 
The general pardon likewise near the same time 
came forth ; and the king therewithal omitted no di- 
ligence, in giving strait order for the keeping of the 
ports, that fugitives, malecontents, or suspected per- 
sons, might not pass over into Ireland and Flanders. 
Meanwhile the rebels in Ireland had sent privy 
messengers both into England and into Flanders, 
who in both places had wrought effects of no small 
importance. For in England they won to their 
party John, Earl of Lincoln, son of John de la Pole, 


136 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


Duke of Suffolk, and of Elizabeth, King Edward 
the Fourth’s eldest sister. This earl was a man of 
great wit and courage, and had his theughts highly 
raised by hopes and expectations for a time: for 
Richard the Third had a resolution, out of his hatred 
to both his brethren, King Edward, and the Duke of 
Clarence, and their lines, having had his hand in 
both their bloods, to disable their issues upon false 
and incompetent pretexts; the one of attainder, the 
other of illegitimation: and to design this gentle- 
man, in case himself should die without children, for 
inheritor of the crown. Neither was this unknown 
to the king, who had secretly an eye upon him. But 
the king, having tasted of the envy of the people for 
his imprisonment of Edward Plantagenet, was doubt- 
ful to heap up any more distastes of that kind, by 
the imprisonment of de la Pole also; the rather 
thinking it policy to conserve him as a co-rival unto 
the other. The Earl of Lincoln was induced to par- 
ticipate with the action of Ireland, not lightly upon 
the strength of the proceedings there, which was but 
a bubble, but upon letters from the lady Margaret 
of Burgundy, in whose succours and declaration for 
the enterprise there seemed to be a more solid foun- 
dation, both for reputation and forces. Neither did 
the earl refrain the business, for that he knew the 
pretended Plantagenet to be but an idol. But con- 
trariwise, he was more glad it should be the false 
Plantagenet than the true; because the false being 
sure to fall away of himself, and the true to be made 
sure of by the king, it might open and pave a fair 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 187 


and prepared way to his own title. With this reso- 
lution he sailed secretly into Flanders, where was a 
little before arrived the Lord Lovel, leaving a cor- 
respondence here in England with Sir Thomas 
Broughton, a man of great power and dependencies 
in Lancashire.. For before this time, when the pre- 
tended Plantagenet was first received in Ireland, 
secret messengers had been also sent to the Lady 
Margaret, advertising her what was passed in Ire- 
land; imploring succours in an enterprise, as they 
said, so pious and just, and that God had so miracu- 
lously prospered the beginning thereof ; and making 
offer that all things should be guided by her will 
and direction, as the sovereign patroness and pro- 
tectress of the enterprise. Margaret was second 
sister to King Edward the Fourth, and had been 
second wife to Charles, surnamed the Hardy, Duke 
of Burgundy ; by whom having no children of her 
own, she did with singular care and tenderness in- 
tend the education of Philip and Margaret, grand- 
children to her former husband; which won her 
great love and authority among the Dutch. This 
Princess, having the spirit of a man, and malice of a 
woman, abounding in treasure by the greatness of 
her dower and her provident government, and being 
childless, and without any nearer care, made it her 
design and enterprise to see the majesty royal of 
England once again replaced in her house; and had 
set up King Henry as a mark at whose overthrow 
all her actions should aim and shoot; insomuch as 


all the counsels of his succeeding troubles came 
VOL. 3. L 


188 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


chiefly out of that quiver. And she bare such a mor- 
tal hatred to the house of Lancaster, and personally 
to the king, as she was no ways mollified by the con- © 
junction of the houses in her niece’s marriage, but 
rather hated her niece, as the means of the king’s 
ascent to the crown, and assurance therein. Where- 
fore with great violence of affection she embraced 
this overture. And upon counsel taken with the 
Earl of Lincoln, and the Lord Lovel, and some other 
of the party, it was resolved with all speed, the two 
lords, assisted with a regiment of two thousand 
Almains, being choice and veteran bands, under the 
command of Martin Swart, a valiant and experi- 
mented captain, should pass over into Ireland to the 
new king ; hoping, that when the action should have 
the face of a received and settled regality, with 
such a second person as the Earl of Lincoln, and the 
conjunction and reputation of foreign succours, the 
fame of it would embolden and prepare all the party 
of the confederates and malcontents within the 
realm of England, to give them assistance when they 
should come over there. And for the person of the 
counterfeit, it was agreed, that if all things succeeded 
well he should be put down, and the true Plantage- 
net received; wherein nevertheless the Earl of Lin- 
coln had his particular hopes. After they were come 
into Ireland, and that the party took courage, by 
seeing themselves together in a body, they grew 
very confident of success ; conceiving and discours- 
ing amongst themselves, that. they went in upon far 
better cards to overthrow King Henry, than King 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 189 


Henry had to overthrow King Richard: and that if 
there were not a sword drawn against them in Ire- 
Tand, it was a sign the swords in England would be 
soon sheathed or beaten down. And first, for a 
bravery upon this accession of power, they crowned 
their new king in the cathedral church of Dublin; 
who formerly had been but proclaimed only ; and 
then sat in council what should farther be done. At 
which council, though it were propounded by some, 
that it were the best way to establish themselves 
first in Ireland, and to make that the seat of the war, 
and to draw King Henry thither in person, by whose 
absence they thought there would be great altera- 
tions and commotions in England; yet because the 
kingdom there was poor, and they should not be 
able to keep their army together, nor pay their Ger- 
man soldiers; and for that also the sway of the Irish- 
men, and generally of the men of war, which, as in 
such cases of popular tumults is usual, did in effect 
govern their leaders, was eager, and in affection to 
make their fortunes upon England ; it was concluded 
with all possible speed to transport their forces into 
England. ‘The king in the mean time, who at first 
when he heard what was done in Ireland, though it 
troubled him, yet thought he should be well enough 
able to scatter the Irish as a flight of birds, and rat- 
tle away this swarm of bees with their king; when 
he heard afterwards that the Earl of Lincoln was 
embarked in the action, and that the Lady Margaret 
was declared for it; he apprehended the danger in 
a true degree as it was, and saw plainly that his 


190 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


kingdom must again be put to the stake, and that 
he must fight for it. And first he did conceive, 
before he understood of the Earl of Lincoln’s sailing — 
into Ireland out of Flanders, that he should be as- 
sailed both upon the east parts of the kingdom of 
England by some impression from Flanders, and 
npon the north-west out of Ireland. And therefore 
having ordered musters to be made in both parts, 
and having provisionally designed two generals, 
Jasper, Earl of Bedford, and John, Earl of Oxford, 
meaning himself also to go in person where the affairs 
should most require it, and nevertheless not expect- 
ing any actual invasion at that time, the winter be- 
ing far on, he took his journey himself towards Suf- 
folk and Norfolk for the confirming of those parts. 
And being come to St. Edmond’s-Bury, he under- 
stood that Thomas, Marquis Dorset, who had been 
one of the pledges in France, was hasting towards 
him, to purge himself of some accusations which had 
been made against him. But the king, though he 
kept an ear for him, yet was the time so doubtful, 
that he sent the Earl of Oxford to meet him, and 
forthwith to carry him to the Tower; with a fair 
message nevertheless, that he should bear that dis- 
grace with patience, for that the king meant not his 
hurt, but only to preserve him from doing hurt, 
either to the king’s service, or to himself; and that 
the king should always be able, when he had cleared 
himself, to make him reparation, 

From St. Edmond’s-Bury he went to Norwich, 
where he kept his Christmas: and from thence he 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 191 


went, in a manner of pilgrimage, to Walsingham, 
where he visited our lady’s church, famous for mira- 
cles, and made his prayers and vows for help and 
deliverance : and from thence he returned by Cam- 
bridge to London. Not long after the rebels, with 
their king, under the leading of the Earl of Lincoln, 
the Earl of Kildare, the Lord Lovel, and Colonel 
Swart, landed at Fouldrey, in Lancashire; whither 
there repaired to them Sir Thomas Broughton, with 
some small company of English. The king by that 
time, knowing now the storm would not divide, but 
fall in one place, had levied forces in good number ; 
and in person, taking with him his two designed 
generals, the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of 
Oxford, was come on his way towards them as far as 
Coventry, whence he sent forth a troop of light horse- 
men for discovery, and to intercept some stragglers 
of the enemies, by whom he might the better under- 
stand the particulars of their progress and purposes, 
which was accordingly done ; though the king other- 
wise was not without intelligence from espials in the 
camp. 

The rebels took their way toward York, without 
spoiling the country, or any act of hostility, the better 
to put themselves into favour of the people and to 
personate their king; who, no doubt, out of a 
princely feeling, was sparing and compassionate 
towards his subjects: but their snow-ball did not 
gather as it went, for the people came not in to them; 
neither did any rise or declare themselves in other 
parts of the kingdom for them; which was caused 


192 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


partly by the good taste that the king had given his 
people of his government, joined with the reputation 
of his felicity; and partly for that it was an odious 
thing to the people of England to have a king 
brought in to them upon the shoulders of Irish and 
Dutch, of which their army was in substance com- 
pounded. Neither was it a thing done with any 
great judgement on the party of the rebels, for them 
to take their way towards York: considering that 
howsoever those parts had formerly been a nursery of 
their friends, yet it was there where the Lord Lovel 
had so lately disbanded, and where the king’s pre- 
sence had a little before qualified discontents. The 
Earl of Lincoln, deceived of his hopes of the coun- 
try’s concourse unto him, in which case he would 
have temporised, and seeing the business past retract, 
resolved to make on where the king was and to give 
him battle; and thereupon marched towards Newark, 
thinking to have surprised the town. But the king 
was somewhat before this time come to Nottingham, 
where he called a council of war, at which was con- 
sulted whether it were best to protract time, or 
speedily to set upon the rebels. In which council 
the king himself, whose continual vigilancy did suck 
in sometimes causeless suspicions which few else 
knew, inclined to the accelerating a battle, but this 
was presently put out of doubt by the great aids that 
came in to him in the instant of this consultation, 
partly upon missives and partly voluntaries, from 
many parts of the kingdom. 

The principal persons that came then to the 


ST ee 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 193 


king’s aid, were the Earl of Shrewsbury and the 
Lord Strange, of the nobility; and of knights and 
gentlemen, to the number of at least threescore and 
ten persons, with their companies; making in the 
whole, at the least, six thousand fighting men, be- 
sides the forces that were with the king before. 
Whereupon the king, finding his army so bravely 
reinforced, and a great alacrity in all his men to 
fight, was confirmed in his former resolution, and 
marched speedily, so as he put himself between the 
enemies’ camp and Newark, being loth their army 
should get the commodity of that town. The earl, 
nothing dismayed, came forwards that day unto a 
little village called Stoke, and there encamped that 
night, upon the brow or hanging of a hill. The 
king the next day presented him battle upon the 
plain, the fields there being open and champain. 
The earl courageously came down and joined battle 
with him. Concerning which battle the relations 
that are left unto us are so naked and negligent, 
though it be an action of so recent memory, as they 
rather declare the success of the day than the man- 
ner of the fight. They say that the king divided his 
army into three battails; whereof the vant-guard 
only, well strengthened with wings, came to fight : 
that the fight was fierce and obstinate, and lasted 
three hours, before the victory inclined either Way ; 
save that judgement might be made by that the 
king’s vant-guard of itself maintained fight against 
the whole power of the enemies, (the other two 
battails remaining out of action) what the success 


194 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


was like to be in the end: that Martin Swart with 
his Germans performed bravely, and so did those few 
English that were on that side: neither did the Irish 
fail in courage or fierceness ; but being almost naked 
men, only armed with darts and skeins, it was rather 
an execution than a fight upon them; insomuch as 
the furious slaughter of them was a great discourage- 
ment and appalment to the rest: that there died 
upon the place all the chieftains ; that is, the Earl 
of Lincoln, the Earl of Kildare, Francis Lord Lovel, 
Martin Swart, and Sir Thomas Broughton: all 
making good the fight without any ground given. 
Only of the Lord Lovel there went a report, that he 
fled, and swam over Trent on horseback, but could 
not recover the farther side by reason of the steep- 
ness of the bank, and so was drowned in the river. 
But another report leaves him not there, but that he 
lived long after in acave or vault. The number that 
was slain in the field, was of the enemies’ part four 
thousand at the least; and of the king’s part, one 
half his vant-guard, besides many hurt, but none of 
name. ‘There were taken prisoners, amongst others, 
the counterfeit Plantagenet, now Lambert Simnell 
again, and the crafty priest his tutor. For Lambert, 
the king would not take his life, both out of magna- 
nimity, taking him but as an image of wax that 
others had tempered and molded; and likewise out 
of wisdom, thinking that if he suffered death, he 
would be forgotten too soon; but being kept alive, 
he would be a continual spectacle, and a kind of 
remedy against the like enchantments of people in 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 195 
eo 


time tocome. For which cause he was taken into ser- 
vice in his court to a base office in his kitchen; so that, 
in a kind of “ mattacina” of human force, he turned a 
broach that had worn a crown; whereas fortune 
commonly doth not bring in a comedy or farce after 
a tragedy. And afterwards he was preferred to be 
one of the king’s falconers. As to the priest, he was 
committed close prisoner, and heard of no more ; the 
king loving to seal up his own dangers. 

After the battle the king went to Lincoln, where 
he caused supplications and thanksgivings to be 
made for his deliverance and victory. And that his 
devotions might go round in circle, he sent his ban- 
ner to be offered to our lady of Walsingham, where 
before he made his vows. And thus delivered of this 
so strange an engine, and new invention of fortune, 
he returned to his former confidence of mind; think- 
ing now, that all his misfortunes had come at once. 
But it fell out unto him according to the speech of 
the common people in the beginning of his reign, 
that said, “ It was a token he should reign in labour, 
“ because his reign began with a sickness of sweat.” 
But howsoever the king thought himself now in a 
haven, yet such was his wisdom, as his confidence did 
seldom darken his foresight, especially in things near 
hand. And therefore, awakened by so fresh and un- 
expected dangers, he entered into due consideration, 
as well how to weed out the partakers of the former 
rebellion, as to kill the seeds of the like in time to 
come ; and withal to take away all shelters and har_ 
bours for discontented persons, where they might 


196 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


hatch and foster rebellions, which afterwards might 
gather strength and motion. And first, he did yet 
again make a progress from Lincoln to the northern 
parts, though it were indeed rather an itinerary cir- 
cuit of justice than a progress. For all along as he 
went, with much severity and strict inquisition, 
partly by martial law, and partly by commission, 
were punished the adherents and aiders of the late 
rebels. Not all by death, for the field had drawn 
much blood, but by fines and ransoms, which spared 
life and raised treasure. Amongst other crimes of 
this nature, there was diligent inquiry made of such 
as had raised a bruit and rumour a little before the 
field fought, “that the rebels had the day; and 
“ that the king’s army was overthrown, and the king 
“ fled.” Whereby it was supposed that many suc- 
cours, which otherwise would have come unto the 
king, were cunningly put off and kept back. Which 
charge and accusation, though it had some ground, 
yet it was industriously embraced and put on by 
divers, who having been in themselves not the best 
affected to the king’s part, nor forward to come to 
his aid, were glad to apprehend this colour to cover 
their neglect and coldness, under the pretence of 
such discouragements. Which cunning nevertheless 
the king would not understand, though he lodged 
it, and noted it in some particulars as his manner was. 

But for the extirpating of the roots and causes of 
the like commotions in time to come, the king began 
to find where his shoe did wring him, and that it 
was his depressing of the house of York that did 


‘ th 
e's 
a 
E 
a 
‘dl 
a 
7 
A 
; 
e 
4 
ni 
ff 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 197 


rankle and fester the affections of his people. And 
therefore being now too wise to disdain perils any 
longer, and willing to give some contentment in that 
kind, at least in ceremony, he resolved at last to 
proceed to the coronation of his queen. And there- 
fore at his coming to London, where he entered in 
state, and in a kind of triumph, and celebrated his 
victory with two days of devotion, for the first day 
he repaired to Paul’s, and had the hymn of “ Te 
“ Deum” sung, and the morrow after he went in 
procession, and heard the sermon at the cross, the 
queen was with great solemnity crowned at West- 
minster, the five and twentieth of November, in the 
third year of his reign, which was about two years 
after the marriage ; like an old christening, that had 
stayed long for godfathers. Which strange and 
unusual distance of time made it subject to every 
man’s note, that it was an act against his stomach, 
and put upon him by necessity and reason of state. 
Soon after, to shew that it was now fair weather 
again, and that the imprisonment of Thomas, Marquis 
Dorset, was rather upon suspicion of the time than 
of the man, he, the said marquis, was set at liberty 
without examination or other circumstance. At 
that time also the king sent an ambassador unto 
Pope Innocent, signifying unto him this his marriage ; 
and that now, like another AEneas, he had passed 
through the floods of his former troubles and 
travels, and was arrived unto a safe haven: and 
thanking his holiness that he had honoured the cele- 
bration of his marriage with the presence of his 


198 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


ambassador; and offering both his person and the 
forces of his kingdom, upon all occasions, to do him 
service. 

The ambassador making his oration to the pope, 
in the presence of the cardinals, did so magnify the 
king and queen, as was enough to glut the hearers. 
But then he did again so extol and deify the pope, as 
made all that he had said in praise of his master and 
mistress seem temperate and passable. But he was 
very honourably entertained, and extremely much 
made on by the pope: who knowing himself to be 
lazy and unprofitable to the Christian world, was 
wonderfully glad to hear that there were such echoes 
of him sounding in remote parts. He obtained also 
of the pope avery just and honourable bull, qualify- 
ing the privileges of sanctuary, wherewith the king 
had been extremely gulled in three points. 

The first, that if any sanctuary man did by night, 
or otherwise, get out of sanctuary privily, and commit 
mischief and trespass, and then come in again, he 
should lose the benefit of sanctuary for ever after. 
The second, that howsoever the person of the sanc- 
tuary man was protected from his creditors, yet his 
goods out of sanctuary should not. The third, that 
if any took sanctuary for case of treason, the king 
might appoint-him keepers to look to him in 
sanctuary. 

The king also, for the better securing of his 
estate against mutinous and malcontented subjects, 
whereof he saw the realm was full, who might have 
their refuge into Scotland, which was not under key 


i 


f 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII.’ 199 


as the ports were ; for that cause rather than for any 


a 4 


doubt of hostility from those parts, before his coming 
to London, when he was at Newcastle, had sent a 
solemn ambassage unto James the Third, king of 
Scotland, to treat and conclude a peace with him. 
The ambassadors were, Richard Fox, Bishop of 
Exeter, and Sir Richard Edgecombe, comptroller of 
the king’s house, who were honourably received and 
entertained there. But the King of Scotland, labour- 
ing of the same disease that King Henry did, though 
more mortal, as afterwards appeared, that is, dis- 
contented subjects, apt to rise and raise tumult, 
although in his own affection he did much desire 
to make a peace with the king ; yet finding his nobles 
averse, and not daring to displease them, concluded 
only a truce for seven years; giving nevertheless 
promise in private, that it should be renewed from 
time to time during the two kings’ lives. 

Hitherto the king had been exercised in settling 
his affairs athome. But about this time brake forth 
an occasion that drew him to look abroad, and to 
hearken to foreign business. Charles the Eighth, 
the French king, by the virtue and good fortune of 
his two immediate predecessors, Charles the Seventh, 
his grandfather, and Lewis the Eleventh, his father, 
received the kingdom of France in more flourishing 
and spread estate than it had been of many years 
before ; being redintegrate in those principal mem- 
bers, which anciently had been portions of the crown 
of France, and were afterward discovered, so as they 
remained only in homage and not in sovereignty, 


200 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


being governed by absolute princes of their own, 
Anjou, Normandy, Provence, and Burgundy. There 
remained only Britain to be re-united, and so the 
monarchy of France to be reduced to the ancient 
terms and bounds. 

King Charles was not a little inflamed with an 
ambition to re-purchase and re-annex that duchy : 
which his ambition was a wise and well-weighed 
ambition; not like unto the ambitions of his suc- 
ceeding enterprises of Italy. For at that time, 
being newly come to the crown, he was somewhat 
guided by his father’s counsels, counsels not coun- 
sellors, for his father was his own council, and had 
few able men about him. And that king, he knew 
well, had ever distasted the designs of Italy, and in 
particular had an eye upon Britain. There were 
many circumstances that did feed the ambition of 
Charles with pregnant and apparent hopes of suc- 
cess: the duke of Britain old, and entered into a 
lethargy, and served with mercenary counsellors, 
father of two only daughters, the one sickly and not 
likely to continue; King Charles himself in the 
flower of age, and the subjects of France at that 
time well trained for war, both for leaders and 
soldiers; men of service being not yet worn out 
since the wars of Lewis against Burgundy. He 
found himself also in peace with all his neighbour 
princes. As for those that might oppose to his en- 
terprise, Maximilian king of the Romans, his rival in 
the same desires (as well for the duchy, as the 
daughter) feeble in means; and King Henry of 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 201 


England, as well somewhat obnoxious to him for his 
favours and benefits, as busied in his particular 
troubles at home. There was also a fair and specious 
occasion offered him to hide his ambition, and to 
justify his warring upon Britain; for that the duke 
had received and succoured Lewis, duke of Orleans, 
and other of the French nobility, which had taken 
arms against their king. Wherefore King Charles, 
being resolved upon that war, knew well he could 
not receive any opposition so potent, asif King Henry 
should, either upon policy of state in preventing the 
growing greatness of France, or upon gratitude unto 
the duke of Britain for his former favours in the 
time of his distress, espouse that quarrel, and declare 
himself in aid of the duke. Therefore he no sooner 
heard that King Henry was settled by his victory, 
but forthwith he sent ambassadors unto him to pray 
his assistance, or at least that he would stand neu- 
tral. Which ambassadors found the king at Lei- 
cester, and delivered their ambassage to this effect : 
they first imparted unto the king the success that 
their master had had a little before against Maximi- 
lian, in recovery of certain towns from him; which 
was done in a kind of privacy, and inwardness 
towards the king; as if the French king did not 
esteem him for an outward or formal confederate, 
but as one that had part in his affections and for- 
tunes, and with whom he took pleasure to commu- 
nicate his business. After this compliment, and 
some gratulation for the king’s victory, they fell to 
their errand; declaring to the king, that their 


202 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


master was enforced to enter into a just and neces- 
sary war with the duke of Britain, for that he had 
received and succoured those that were traitors and 
declared enemies unto his person and state. That 
they were no mean, distressed, and calamitous per- 
sons that fled to him for refuge, but of so great 
quality, as it was apparent that they came not thither 
to protect their own fortune, but to infest and invade 
his; the head of them being the Duke of Orleans, 
the first prince of the blood, and the second person 
of France. That therefore, rightly to understand 
it, it was rather on their master’s part a defensive 
war than an offensive; as that could not be omitted 
or forborn, if he tendered the conservation of his 
own estate; and that it was not the first blow that 
made the war invasive, for that no wise prince would 
stay for, but the first provocation, or at least the 
first preparation; nay, that this war was rather a 
suppression of rebels, than a war with a just enemy ; 
where the case is, that his subjects, traitors, are 
received by the Duke of Britain his homager. That 
King Henry knew well what went upon it in ex- 
ample, if neighbour princes should patronize and 
comfort rebels against the law of nations and of 
leagues. Nevertheless that their master was not 
ignorant, that the king had been beholden to the 
Duke of Britain in his adversity; as on the other 
side, they knew he would not forget also the readi- 
ness of their king, in aiding him when the Duke of 
Britain, or his mercenary counsellors, failed him, 
and would have betrayed him; and that there was a 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 203 


great difference between the courtesies received from 
their master, and the duke of Britain: for that the 
duke’s might have ends of utility and bargain; 
whereas their master’s could not have proceeded but 
out of entire affection; for that, if it had been 
measured by a politic line, it had been better for his 
affairs, that a tyrant should have reigned in England, 
troubled and hated, than such a prince, whose vir- 
tues could not fail to make him great and potent, 
whensoever he was come to be master of his affairs. 
But howsoever it stood for the point of obligation 
which the king might owe to the duke of Britain, 
yet their master was well assured, it would not 
divert King Henry of England from doing that that 
was just, nor ever embark him in so ill-grounded a 
quarrel. Therefore, since this war, which their master 
was now to make, was but to deliver himself from 
imminent dangers, their king hoped the king would 
show the like affection to the conservation of their 
master’s estate, as their master had, when time was, 
shewed to the king’s acquisition of his kingdom. At 
the least, that according to the inclination which 
the king had ever professed of peace, he would look 
on, and stand neutral; for that their master could 
not with reason press him to undertake part in the 
war, being so newly settled and recovered from 
intestine seditions. But touching the mystery of 
re-annexing of the duchy of Britain to the crown of 
France, either by war, or by marriage with the 
daughter of Britain, the ambassadors bare aloof 


from it as from a rock; knowing that it made most 
VOL. 3, M 


204 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


against them. And therefore by all means declined 
any mention thereof, but contrariwise interlaced, in 
their conference with the king, the assured purpose 
of their master to match with the daughter of 
Maximilian; and entertained the king also with 
some wandering discourses of their king’s purpose, 
to recover by arms his right to the kingdom of 
Naples, by an expedition in person; all to remove 
the king from all jealousy of any design in these 
hither parts upon Britain, otherwise than for quench- 
ing of the fire which he feared might be kindled in 
his own estate. 

The king, after advice taken with his council, 
made answer to the ambassadors : and first returned 
their compliment, shewing he was right glad of the 
French king’s reception of those towns from Maxi- 
milian. Then he familiarly related some particular 
passages of his own adventures and victory passed. 
As to the business of Britain, the king answered in 
few words; that the French king, and the duke of 
Britain, were the two persons to whom he was most 
obliged of all men; and that he should think himself 
very unhappy if things should go so between them, 
as he should not be able to acquit himself in grati- 
tude towards them both; and that there was no 
means for him as a Christian king, and a common 
friend to them, to satisfy all obligations both to God 
and man, but to offer himself for a mediator of an 
accord and peace between them; by which course 
he doubted not but their king’s estate, and honour 
both, would be preserved with more safety and less 


*., 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 205 


envy than by a war ; and that he would spare no costs 
or pains, no if it were to go on pilgrimage, for so 
good an effect; and concluded, that in this great 
affair, which he took so much to heart, he would 
express himself more fully by an ambassage, which 
he would speedily dispatch unto the French king 
for that purpose. And in this sort the French am- 
bassadors were dismissed: the king avoiding to 
understand anything touching the re-annexing of 
Britain, as the ambassadors had avoided to mention 
it: save that he gave a little touch of it in the word 
envy. And so it was, that the king was neither so 
shallow, nor so ill advertised, as not to perceive the 
intention of the French for the investing himself of 
Britain. But first, he was utterly unwilling, how- 
soever he gave out, to enter into war with France. 
A fame of a war he liked well, but not an achieve- 
ment; for the one he thought would make him 
richer, and the other poorer; and he was possessed 
with many secret fears touching his own people, 
which he was therefore loth to arm, and put wea- 
pons into their hands. Yet notwithstanding, as a 
prudent and courageous prince, he was not so averse 
from a war, but that he was resolved to choose it, 
rather than to have Britain carried by France, being 
so great and opulent a duchy, and situate so oppor- 
tunely to annoy England, either for coast or trade. 
But the king’s hopes were, that partly by negligence, 
commonly imputed to the French, especially in the 


court of a young king, and partly by the native 


power of Britain itself, which was not small; but 


ys 


a 
206 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


chiefly in respect of the great party that the Duke of 
Orleans had in the kingdom of France, and thereby 
means to stir up civil troubles, to divert the French 
king from the enterprise of Britain. And lastly, in 
regard of the power of Maximilian, who was corrival 
to the French king in that pursuit, the enterprise 
would either bow to a peace, or break in itself. In 
all which the king measured and valued things 
amiss, as afterwards appeared. He sent therefore 
forthwith to the French king Christopher Urswick, 
his chaplain, a person by him much trusted and em- 
ployed: choosing him the rather, because he was a 
churchman, as best sorting with an embassy of 
pacification: and giving him also a commission, 
that if the French king consented to treat, he should 
thence repair to the Duke of Britain, and ripen the 
treaty on both parts. Urswick made declaration to 
the French king, much to the purpose of the king’s 
answer to the French ambassadors here, instilling 
also tenderly some overture of receiving to grace 
the Duke of Orleans, and some taste of conditions of 
accord. But the French king on the other side 
proceeded not sincerely, but with a great deal of 
art and dissimulation in this treaty; having for his 
end, to gain time, and so put off the English suc- 
cours under hope of peace, till he had got good 
footing in Britain by force of arms. Wherefore he 
answered the ambassador, that he would put himself 
into the king’s hands, and make him arbiter of the 
peace ; and willingly consented, that the ambassador 
should straightways pass into Britain, to signify this 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 207 


his consent, and to know the Duke’s mind likewise ; 
well foreseeing that the Duke of Orleans, by whom 
the Duke of Britain was wholly led, taking himself 
to be upon terms irreconcileable with him, would 
admit of no treaty of peace. Whereby he should in 
one, both generally abroad veil over his ambition, 
and win the reputation of just and moderate pro- 
ceedings; and should withal endear himself in the 
affections of the king of England, as one that had 
committed all to his will; nay, and which was yet 
more fine, make faith in him, that although he went 
on with the war, yet it should be but with the 
sword in his hand, to bend the stiffness of the other 
party to accept of peace; and so the king should 
take no umbrage of his arming and prosecution; 
but the treaty to be kept on foot to the very last 
instant, till he were master of the field. 

Which grounds being by the French king wisely 
laid, all things fell out as he expected. For when 
the English ambassador came to the court of Britain, 
the duke was then scarcely perfect i in his memory, 
and all things were directed by the : Duke of Orleans, 
who gave audience to the chaplain Urswick, and 
upon his ambassage delivered, made answer in 
somewhat high terms: that the Duke of Britain 
having been an host, and a kind of parent or foster- 
father to the king, in his tenderness of age and 
weakness of fortune, did look for at this time from 
King Henry, the renowned king of England, rather 
brave troops for his succours, than a vain treaty of 
peace. And if the king could forget the good offices 


208 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of the duke done unto him aforetime; yet, he knew 
well, he would in his wisdom consider of the future, 
how much it imported his own safety and reputa- 
tion, both in foreign parts, and with his own people, 
not to suffer Britain, the old confederates of Eng- 
Jand, to be swallowed up by France, and so many 
good ports and strong towns upon the coast be in 
the command of so potent a neighbour king, and so 
ancient an enemy: and therefore humbly desired 
the king to think of this business as his own: and 
therewith brake off, and denied any farther confer- 
ence for treaty. 

Urswick returned first to the French king, and 
related to him what had passed. Who finding 
things to sort to his desire, took hold of them, and 
said; that the ambassador might perceive now that, 
which he for his part partly imagined before. That 
considering in what hands the duke of Britain was, 
there would be no peace but by a mixed treaty of 
force and persuasion: and therefore he would go on 
with the one, and desired the king not to desist from 
the other. But for his own part, he did faithfully 
promise to be still in the king’s power, to rule him in 
the matter of peace. This was accordingly repre- 
sented unto the king by Urswick at his return, and 
in such a fashion, as if the treaty were in no sort 
desperate, but rather stayed for a better hour, till 
the hammer had wrought and beat the party of 
Britain more pliant. Whereupon there passed con- 
tinually packets and dispatches between the two 
kings, from the one out of desire, and from the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 209 


other out of dissimulation, about the negociation 
of peace. The French king mean while invaded 
Britain with great forces, and distressed the city of 
Nantz with a strait siege, and, as one, who though 
he had no great judgement, yet had that, that he 
could dissemble at home, the more he did urge the 
prosecution of the war, the more he did, at the same 
time, urge the solicitation of the peace. Insomuch 
as during the seige of Nantz, after many letters and 
particular messages, the better to maintain his dis- 
simulation, and to refresh the treaty, he sent Barnard 
D’Aubigney, a person of good quality, to the king, 
earnestly to desire him to make an end of the busi- 
ness howsoever. 

The king was no less ready to revive and quicken 
the treaty ; and thereupon sent three commissioners, 
the abbot of Abingdon, Sir Richard Tunstal, and 
chaplain Urswick formerly employed, to do their 
utmost endeavours to manage the treaty roundly 
and strongly. 

About this time the Lord Woodvile, uncle to the 
queen, a valiant gentleman, and desirous of honour, 
sued to the king that he might raise some power 
of voluntaries underhand, and without licence or 
passport (wherein the king might any ways appear) 
go to the aid of the Duke of Britain. The king de- 
nied his request, or at least seemed so to do, and 
laid strait commandment upon him, that he should 
not stir, for that the king thought his honour would 
suffer therein, during a treaty, to better a party. 
Nevertheless this lord, either béing unruly, or out of 


210 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


conceit that the king would not inwardly dislike 
that, which he would not openly avow, sailed 
directly over into the Isle of Wight, whereof he was 
governor, and levied a fair troop of four hundred 
men, and with them passed over into Britain, and 
joined himself with the duke’s forces. The news 
whereof, when it came to the French court, put 
divers young bloods into such a fury, as the English 
ambassadors were not without peril to be outraged. 
But the French king, both to preserve the privilege 
of ambassadors, and being conscious to himself, that 
in the business of peace he himself was the greater 
dissembler of the two, forbad all injuries of fact or 
word against their persons or followers. And pre- 
sently came an agent from the king, to purge him- 
self touching the Lord Woodvile’s going over ; using 
for a principal argument, to demonstrate that it was 
without his privity, for that the troops were so small, 
as neither had the face of a succour by authority, 
nor could much advance the Britain affairs. To 
which message although the French king gave no 
full credit, yet he made fair weather with the king, 
and seemed satisfied. Soon after the English am- 
bassadors returned, having two of them been like- 
wise with the Duke of Britain, and found things in 
no other terms than they were before. Upon their 
return, they informed the king of the state of the af- 
fairs, and how far the French king was from any true 
meaning of peace; and therefore he was now to 
advise of some other course; neither was the king 
himself led all this while with credulity merely, as 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 211 


was generally supposed; but his error was not so 
much facility of belief, as an ill measuring of the 
forces of the other party. 

For, as was partly touched before, the king had 
cast the business thus with himself. He took it for 
granted in his own judgement, that the war of Bri- 
tain, in respect of the strength of the towns and of 
the party, could not speedily come to a_ period. 
For he conceived, that the counsels of a war, that 
was undertaken by the French king, then childless, 
against an heir apparent of France, would be very 
faint and slow ; and, besides, that it was not possible, 
but that the state of France should be embroiled 
with some troubles and alterations in favour of the 
Duke of Orleans. He conceived likewise, that Maxi- 
milian, king of the Romans, was a prince, warlike and 
potent ; who, he made account, would give succours 
to the Britains roundly. So then judging it would 
be a work of time, he laid his plot how he might 
best make use of that time for his own affairs. 
Wherein first he thought to make his vantage upon 
his parliament ; knowing that they being affectionate 
unto the quarrel of Britain, would give treasure 
largely; which treasure, as a noise of war might 
draw forth, so a peace succeeding might coffer up. 
And because he knew his people were hot upon the 
business, he chose rather to seem to be deceived, 
and lulled asleep by the French, than to be backward 
in himself; considering his subjects were not so fully 
capable of the reasons of state, which made him hold 
back. Wherefore to all these purposes he saw no 


912 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


other expedient, than to set and keep on foot a con- 
tinual treaty of peace, laying it down, and taking it 
up again, as the occurrence required. Besides, he 
had in consideration the point of honour, in bearmg 
the blessed person of a pacificator. He thought 
likewise to make use of the envy that the French 
king met with by occasion of this war of Britain, 
in strengthening himself with new alliances; as, 
namely, that of Ferdinando of Spain, with whom he 
had ever a consent even in nature and customs; and 
likewise with Maximilian, who was particularly in- 
terested. So that in substance he promised himself 
money, honour, friends, and peace in the end. But 
those things were too fine to be fortunate and suc- 
ceed in all parts ; for that great affairs are commonly 
too rough and stubborn to be wrought upon by the 
finer edges or points of wit. The king was likewise 
deceived in his two main grounds. For although he 
had reason to conceive that the council of France 
would be wary to put the king into a war against 
the heir apparent of France; yet he did not consider 
that Charles was not guided by any of the principal 
of the blood or nobility, but by mean men, who 
would make it their master-piece of credit and 
favour, to give venturous counsels which no great or 
wise man durst or would. And for Maximilian, he 
was thought then a greater matter than he was ; 
his unstable and necessitous courses being not then 
known. 

After consultation with the ambassadors, who 
brought him no other news than he expected before, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 213 


though he would not seem to know it till then, he 
presently summoned his parliament, and in open 
parliament propounded the cause of Britain to both 
houses, by his chancellor Morton, archbishop of 
Canterbury, who spake to this effect. 

“ My lords and masters, the king’s grace, our 
“ sovereign lord, hath commanded me to declare 
“unto you the causes that have moved him at this 
“ time to summon this his parliament ; which I shall 
“ do in few words, craving pardon of his grace, and 
“ you all, if I perform it not as I would. 

“ His grace doth first of all let you know, that 
“he .retaineth in thankful memory the love and 
“ loyalty shewn to him by you, at your last meeting, 
“in establishment of his royalty; freeing and dis- 
“ charging of his partakers, and confiscation of his 
“ traitors and rebels; more than which could not 
“ come from subjects to their sovereign in one action. 
“ This he taketh so well at your hands, as he hath 
“made it a resolution to himself, to communicate 
“ with so loving and well approved subjects, in all 
“ affairs that are of public nature at home or abroad. 

“ 'T'wo therefore are the causes of your present 
“ assembling: the one a foreign business, the other 
“ matter of government at home. 

“ The French king, as no doubt ye have heard, 
“ maketh at this present hot war upon the Duke of 
“ Britain. His army is now before Nantz, and hold- 
“ eth it straitly besieged, being the principal city, if 
“* not in ceremony and pre-eminence, yet in strength 
“and wealth, of that duchy. Ye may guess at his 


214 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ hopes, by his attempting of the hardest part of the 
“ war first. The cause of this war he knoweth best. 
“ He alledgeth the entertaining and succouring of 
* the Duke of Orleans, and some other French lords, 
‘“‘ whom the king taketh for his enemies. Others 
“ divine of other matters. Both parts have, by their 
“ ambassadors, divers times prayed the king’s aids : 
“the French king aids or neutrality ; the Britains 
“ aids simply ; for so their case requireth. The king, 
“as a Christian prince, and blessed son of the holy 
“ church, hath offered himself as a mediator to treat 
“ of a peace between them. The French king yieldeth 
“to treat, but will not stay the prosecution of the 
“ war. The Britains that desire peace most hearken 
“ to it least; not upon confidence or stiffness, but 
“ upon distrust of true meaning, seeing the war goes 
“on. So as the king, after as much pains and care to 
“« effect a peace as ever he took in any business, not 
“ being able to remove the prosecution on the one side 
‘nor the distrust on the other, caused by that pro- 
“ secution, hath let fall the treaty ; not repenting of 
“ it, but despairing of it now as not likely to succeed. 
‘“ Therefore by this narrative you now understand 
“the state of the question, whereupon the king 
“ prayeth your advice; which is no other, but whe- 
“ ther he shall enter into an auxiliary and defensive 
“ war for the Britains against France ? 

« And the better to open your understandings in 
“this affair, the king hath commanded me to say 
‘“* somewhat to you from him, of the persons that do 
“ intervene in this business; and somewhat of the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 215 


“ consequence thereof, as it hath relation to this 
“kingdom, and somewhat of the example of it in 
“ general; making nevertheless no conclusion or 
“judgement of any point, until his grace hath re- 
“ ceived your faithful and politic advices. 

“ First, for the king our sovereign himself, who 
“ js the principal person you are to eye in this busi- 
“ ness; his grace doth profess, that he truly and con- 
“ stantly desireth to reign in peace. But his grace 
“saith he will neither buy peace with dishonour, 
“ nor take it up at interest of danger to ensue; but 
“shall think it a good change, if it please God 
“to change the inward troubles and seditions where- 
‘with he hath been hitherto exercised into an 
“honourable foreign war. And for the other two 
** persons in this action, the French king and the 
“ Duke of Britain, his grace doth declare unto you, 
“ that they be the men unto whom he is of all other 
“ friends and allies most bounden: the one having 
“held over him his hand of protection from the 
“tyrant; the other having reached forth unto him 
“his hand of help for the recovery of his king- 
“dom. So that his affection toward them in his na- 
“ tural person is upon equal terms. And whereas 
“you may have heard that his grace was enforced 
“ to fly out of Britain into France for doubts of be- 
“ ing betrayed, his grace would not in any sort have 
“ that reflect upon the Duke of Britain in deface- 
“ment of his former benefits; for that he is 
“ thoroughly informed, that it was but the practice 
“ of some corrupt persons about him, during the 


216 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ time of his sickness, altogether without his consent 
“ or privity. 

“ But howsoever these things do interest his 
“ grace in this particular, yet he knoweth well that 
“ the higher bond that tieth him to procure by all 
“ means the safety and welfare of his loving subjects, 
“ doth disinterest him of these obligations of grati- 
“tude otherwise than thus; that if his grace be 
“ forced to make a war, he do it without passion or 
‘* ambition. 

“For the consequence of this action towards 
“ this kingdom, it is much as the French king’s in- 
“tention is. For if it be no more, but to range his 
“* subjects to reason, who bear themselves stout upon 
“ the strength of the Duke of Britain, it is nothing 
“tous. But if it be in the French king’s purpose, 
“ or if it should not be in his purpose, yet if it shall 
‘* follow all one, as if it were sought, that the French 
“king shall make a province of Britain, and join it 
“ to the crown of France ; then it is worthy the con- 
“ sideration, how this may import England, as well 
“in the increasement of the greatness of France, by 
“ the addition of such a country, that stretcheth his 
“ boughs unto our seas, as in depriving this na- 
“ tion, and leaving it naked of so firm and assured 
“confederates as the Britains have always been. 
“ For then it will come to pass, that whereas not 
“ long since this realm was mighty upon the conti- 
“nent, first in territory, and after in alliance, in 
“ respect of Burgundy and Britain, which were con- 
“ federates indeed, but dependent confederates ; now 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 217 


“ the one being already cast, partly into the great- 
“ ness of France, and partly into that of Austria, the 
‘* the other is like wholly to be cast into the greatness 
“of France; and this island shall remain confined 
“ in effect within the salt waters, and girt about with 
“ the coast countries of two mighty monarchs. 

“ For the example, it resteth likewise upon the 
“‘same question, upon the French king’s intent. 
“For if Britain be carried and swallowed up by 
“ France, as the world abroad, apt to impute and 
“construe the actions of princes to ambition, con- 
“ ceive it will; then it is an example very dangerous 
“and universal, that the lesser neighbour state 
‘should be devoured of the greater, For this may 
“ be the case of Scotland towards England ; of Por- 
“tugal towards Spain; of the smaller estates of 
. Matned towards the greater ; and so of Germany ; or 

‘as if some of you of the commons might not live 
“and dwell safely besides some of these great lords. 
“ And the bringing in of this example will be chiefly 
“ laid to the king’s charge, as to him that was most 
“interested and most able to forbid it. But then 
“‘ on the other side, there is so fair a pretext on the 
“ French king’s part, and yet pretext is never want- 
“ing to power, in regard the danger imminent to 
“his own estate is such as may make this enter- 
“ prise seem rather a work of necessity than of am- 
“ bition, as doth in reason correct the danger of the 
“example. For that the example of that which is 
“ done in a man’s own defence cannot be dangerous ; 


218 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“‘ because it is in another’s power to avoid it. But 
“ in all this business the king remits himself to your 
“‘ erave and mature advice, whereupon he purposeth 
“ to rely.” 

This was the effect of the Lord Chancellor’s 
speech touching the cause of Britain; for the king 
had commanded him to carry it so as to affect the 
parliament towards the business: but without en- 
gaging the king in any express declaration. 

The Chancellor went on: 

“ For that which may concern the government at 
“home, the king hath commanded me to say unto 
“ you, that he thinketh there was never any king, 
“ for the small time that he hath reigned, had greater 
“and juster cause of the two contrary passions of 
“joy and sorrow than his grace hath. Joy, in 
“ respect of the rare and visible favours of Almighty 
‘“‘ God, in girding the imperial sword upon his side, 
“and assisting the same his sword against all his 
“ enemies; and likewise in blessing him with so 
“ many good and loving servants and subjects which 
“have never failed to give him faithful counsel, 
“ ready obedience, and courageous defence. Sorrow, 
“ for that it hath not pleased God to suffer him to 
“sheath his sword, as he greatly desired, otherwise 
“ than for administration of justice, but that he hath 
“ been forced to draw it so oft, to cut off traitorous 
“and disloyal subjects, whom, it seems, God hath 
« left, a few amongst many good, as the Canaanites 
« amongst the people of Israel, to be thorns in their 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 219 


“ sides, to tempt and try them; though the end hath 
“ been always, God’s name be blessed therefore, that 
“ the destruction hath fallen upon their own heads. 

‘“¢ Wherefore his grace saith; That he seeth that 
“it is not the blood spilt in the field that will save 
“ the blood in the city ; nor the marshal’s sword that 
“ will set this kingdom in perfect peace: but that 
“ the true way is, to stop the seeds of sedition and 
“ rebellion in their beginnings ; and for that purpose 
“to devise, confirm, and quicken good and whole- 
“ some laws against riots, and unlawful assemblies of 
“ people, and all combinations and confederacies of 
“them, by liveries, tokens, and other badges of 
“ factious dependence ; that the peace of the land 
“‘may by these ordinances, as by bars of iron, be 
‘< soundly bound in and strengthened, and all force, 
“ both in court, country, and private houses, be sup-. 
“ prest. The care hereof, which so much concerneth 
“‘ yourselves, and which the nature of the times doth 
“ instantly call for, his grace commends to your 
“* wisdoms. 

“ And because it is the king’s desire, that this 
* peace, wherein he hopeth to govern and maintain 
“ you, do not bear only unto you leaves, for you to 
“ sit under the shade of them in safety; but also 
“ should bear you fruit of riches, wealth, and plenty ; 
“ therefore his grace prays you to take into consi- 
** deration matter of trade, as also the manufactures 
“ of the kingdom, and to repress the bastard and 
“ barren employment of moneys to usury and un- 


“ lawful exchanges ; that they may be, as their na- 
VOL. 3. N 


220 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“tural use is, turned upon commerce, and lawful 
“ and royal trading. And likewise that our people 
“ be set on work in arts and handicrafts; that the 
“realm may subsist more of itself; that idleness be 
“ avoided, and the draining out of our treasure for 
“ foreign manufactures stopped. But you are not 
“ to rest here only, but to provide further, that what- 
“ soever merchandise shall be brought in from 
“ beyond the seas, may be employed upon the com- 
“ modities of this land; whereby the kingdom’s stock 
“of treasure may be sure to be kept from being 
“‘ diminished by any over-trading of the foreigner. 
«‘ And lastly, because the king is well assured, 
“ that you would not have him poor that wishes you 
* rich; he doubteth not but that you will have care - 
“ as well to maintain his revenues of customs and all 
“ other natures, as also to supply him with your 
“loving aids, if the case shall so require. The 
“ rather, for that you know the king is a good hus- 
“ band, and but a steward in effect for the public; 
“ and that what comes from you is but as moisture 
«drawn from the earth, which gathers into a cloud, 
«and falls back upon the earth again. And you 
‘know well how the kingdoms about you grow 
“ more and more in greatness, and the times are 
“ stirring, and therefore not fit to find the king 
“ with an empty purse. More I have not to say 
“to you; and wish that what hath been said had 
“ been better expressed : but that your wisdoms and 


“ good affections will supply. God bless your 
“ doings.” 


a ee Se 3 


a i cs al 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 221 


It was no hard matter to dispose and affect the 
parliament in this business, as well in respect of the 
emulation between the nations, and the envy at the late 
growth of the French monarchy; as in regard of the 
danger to suffer the French to make their approaches 
upon England, by obtaining so goodly a maritime 
province, full of sea-towns and havens, that might 
do mischief to the English, either by invasion or by 
interruption of traffic. The parliament was also 
moved with the point of oppression; for although 
the French seemed to speak reason, yet arguments 
are ever with multitudes too weak for suspicions. 
Wherefore they did advise the king roundly to em- 
brace the Britons’ quarrel, and to send them speedy 
aids; and with much alacrity and forwardness granted 
to the king a great rate of subsidy in contempla- 
tion of these aids. But the king, both to keep a 
decency towards the French king, to whom he pro- 
fest himself to be obliged, and indeed desirous rather 
to shew war than to make it, sent new solemn am- 
bassadors to intimate unto him the decree of his 
estates, and to iterate his motion, that the French 
would desist from hostility ; or if war must follow, 
to desire him to take it in good part, if at the motion 
of his people, who were sensible of the cause of the 
Britons as their ancient friends and confederates, he 
did send them succours; with protestation never- 
theless, that, to save all treaties and laws of friend- 
ship, he had limited his forces, to proceed in aid of 
the Britons, but in no wise to war upon the French, 
otherwise than as they maintained the possession of 


292 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


Britain. But before this formal ambassage arrived, 
the party of the duke had received a great blow, and 
grew to manifest declination. For near the town of 
St. Alban in Britain, a battle had been given, where 
the Britons were overthrown, and the Duke of Or- 
leans and the Prince of Orange taken prisoners, 
there being slain on the Britains’ part six thousand 
men, and amongst them the Lord Woodville, and 
almost all his soldiers, valiantly fighting. And of 
the French part, one thousand two hundred, with 
their leader James Galeot, a great commander. 
When the news of this battle came over into 
England, it was time for the king, who now had no 
subterfuge to continue further treaty, and saw before 
his eyes that Britain went so speedily for lost, con- 
trary to his hopes: knowing also that with his people, 
and foreigners both, he sustained no small envy and 
disreputation for his former delays, to dispatch with 
all possible speed his succours into Britain ; which he 
did under the conduct of Robert, Lord Brooke, to the 
number of eight thousand choice men and well armed ; 
who having a fair wind, in few hours landed in Bri- 
tain, and joined themselves forthwith to those Briton 
forces that remained after the defeat, and marched 
straight on to find the enemy, and encamped fast by 
them. The French wisely husbanding the posses- 
sion of a victory, and well acquainted with the 
courage of the English, especially when they are 
fresh, kept themselves within their trenches, beng 
strongly lodged, and resolved not to give battle. 
But meanwhile, to harass and weary the English, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 223 


they did upon all advantages set upon them with 
their light horse ; wherein nevertheless they received 
commonly loss, especially by means of the English 
archers. 

But upon these achievements Francis, duke of 
Britain, deceased ; an accident that the king might 
easily have foreseen, and ought to have reckoned 
upon and provided for, but that the point of reputa- 
tion, when news first came of the battle lost, that 
somewhat must be done, did overbear the reason 
of war. 

After the duke’s decease, the principal persons of 
Britain, partly bought, partly through faction, put 
all things into confusion ; so as the English not find- 
ing head or body with whom to join their forces, and 
being in jealousy of friends, as well as in danger of 
enemies, and the winter begun, returned home five 
months after their landing. So the battle of St. 
Alban, the death of the duke, and the retire of the 
English succours, were, after some time, the causes 
of the loss of that duchy; which action some ac- 
counted as a blemish of the king’s judgement, but 
most but as the misfortune of his times. 

But howsoever the temporary fruit of the re 
ment, in their aid and advice given for Britain, took 
not, nor prospered not ; yet the lasting fruit of par- 
liament, which is good and wholesome laws, did 


prosper, and doth yet continue to this day. For, 


according to the Lord Chancellor’s admonition, 
there were that parliament divers excellent laws 


ordained concerning the points which the king re- 
commended. 


224. HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


First, the authority of the star-chamber, which 
before subsisted by the ancient common laws of the 
realm, was confirmed in certain cases by act of par- 
liament. This court is one of the sagest and noblest 
institutions of thiskingdom. For in the distribution 
of courts of ordinary justice, besides the high court 
of parliament, in which distribution the king’s bench 
holdeth the pleas of the crown, the common-place 
pleas civil, the exchequer pleas concerning the king’s 
revenue, and the chancery the pretorian power for 
mitigating the rigour of law, in case of extremity, 
by the conscience of a good man; there was never- 
theless always reserved a high and pre-eminent 
power to the king’s council in causes that might in 
example or consequence concern the state of the 
commonwealth; which if they were criminal, the 
council used to sit in the chamber called the star 
chamber; if civil, in the white chamber or white 
hall. And as the chancery had the pretorian 
power for equity, so the star chamber had the cen- 
sorian power for offences under the degree of 
capital. This court of star chamber is compounded 
of good elements, for it consisteth of four kinds of 
persons, counsellors, peers, prelates, and chief judges. 
It discerneth also principally of four kinds of causes, 
forces, frauds, crimes various of stellionate, and the 
inchoations or middle acts towards crimes capital or 
heinous, not actually committed or perpetrated. 
But that which was principally aimed at by this act 
was force, and the two chief supports of force, com- 
bination of multitudes, and maintenance or headship 
of great persons. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 225 


From the general peace of the country the king’s 
care went on to the peace of the king’s house, and 
the security of his great officers and counsellors. 
But this law was somewhat of a strange composition 
and temper. That if any of the king’s servants 
under the degree of a lord, do conspire the death of 
any of the king’s council or lord of the realm, it is 
made capital. This law was thought to be procured 
by the Lord Chancellor, who being a stern and 
haughty man, and finding he had some mortal ene- 
mies in court, provided for his own safety ; drowning 
the envy of it in a general law, by communicating 
the privilege with all other counsellors and peers, 
and yet not daring to extend it further than to the 
king’s servants in check-roll, lest it should have been 
too harsh to the gentlemen and other commons of 
the kingdom, who might have thought their ancient 
liberty, and the clemency of the laws of England 
invaded, if the will in any case of felony should be 
made the deed. And yet the reason which the act 
yieldeth, that is to say, that he that conspireth the 
death of counsellors may be thought indirectly, and 
by a mean, to conspire the death of the king himself, 
is indifferent to all subjects, as well as to servants in 
court. But it seemeth this sufficed to serve the 
Lord Chancellor’s turn at this time. But yet he 
lived to need a general law, for that he grew after- 
wards as odious to the country as he was then to the 
court. 

From the peace of the king’s house, the king’s 
care extended to the peace of private houses and 


236-2, HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


families, For there was an excellent moral law 
moulded thus ; the taking and carrying away of wo- 
men forcibly and against their will, except female- 
wards and bond-women, was made capital. The 
parliament wisely and justly conceiving that the 
obtaining of women by force into possession, how- 
soever afterwards assent might follow by allurements, 
was but a rape drawn forth in length, because the 
first force drew on all the rest. 

There was made also another law for peace in 
general, and repressing of murders and man- 
slaughters, and was in amendment of the common 
laws of the realm, being this: That whereas by the 
common law the king’s suit, in case of homicide, did 
expect the year and the day, allowed to the party’s 
suit by way of appeal; and that it was found by 
experience, that the party was many times com- 
pounded with, and many times wearied with the 
suit, so that in the end such suit was let fall, and by 
that time the matter was in a manner forgotten, 
and thereby prosecution at the king’s suit by indict- 
ment, which is ever best, “ flagrante crimine,” neg- 
lected ; it was ordained, that the suit by indictment 
might be taken as well at any time within the year 
and the day as after; not prejudicing nevertheless 
the party’s suit. 

The king began also then, as well in wisdom as 
in justice, to pare a little the privilege of clergy, 
ordaining that clerks convict should be burned in 
the hand, both because they might taste of some 
corporal punishment, and that they might carry a 


“Sara 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 227 


brand of infamy. But for this good act’s sake the 
king himself was after branded, by Perkins’ pro- 
clamation, for an execrable breaker of the rites of 
holy church. 

Another law was made for the better peace of 
the country; by which law the king’s officers and 
farmers were to forfeit their places and holds in case 
of unlawful retainer, or partaking in routs and un- 
lawful assemblies. 

These were the laws that were made for repress- 
ing of force, which those times did chiefly require ; 
and were so prudently framed, as they are found fit 
for all succeeding times, and so continue to this day. 

There were.also made good and politic laws that 
parliament, against usury, which is the bastard use 
of money; and against unlawful chievances and 
exchanges, which is bastard usury ; and also for the 
security of the king’s customs ; and for the employ- 
ment of the procedures of foreign commodities, 
brought in by merchant strangers, upon the native 
commodities of the realm; together with some other 
laws of less importance. 

But howsoever the laws made in that parliament 
did bear good and wholesome fruit ; yet the subsidy 
granted at the same time bare a fruit that proved 
harsh and bitter. All was inned at last into the 
king’s barn, but it was after a storm. For when the 
commissioners entered into the taxation of the sub- 
sidy in Yorkshire, and the bishoprick of Duresme; 
the people upon a sudden grew into great mutiny, 
and said openly, That they had endured of late 
years a thousand miseries, and neither could nor 


228 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


would pay the subsidy. This, no doubt, proceeded 
not simply of any present necessity, but much by 
reason of the old humour of those countries, where 
the memory of King Richard was so strong, that it 
lay like lees in the bottom of men’s hearts; and if 
the vessel was but stirred it would come up. And, 
no doubt, it was partly also by the instigation of some 
factious malcontents, that bare principal stroke 
amongst them. Hereupon the commissioners being 
somewhat astonished, deferred the matter unto the 
Earl of Northumberland, who was the principal man 
of authority in those parts. The earl forthwith 
wrote unto the court, signifying to the king plainly 
enough in what flame he found the. people of those 
countries, and praying the king’s direction. The 
king wrote back peremptorily, that he would not 
have one penny abated of that which had been 
granted to him by parliament ; both because it might 
encourage other’countries to pray the liké release or 
mitigation; and chiefly because he would never en- 
dure that the base multitude should frustrate the 
authority of the parliament, wherein their votes and 
consents were concluded. Upon this dispatch from 
court, the earl assembled the principal justices and 
freeholders of the country ; and speaking to them in 
that imperious language, wherein the king had 
written to him, which needed not, save that an 
harsh business was unfortunately fallen into the 
hands of a harsh man, did not only irritate the people, 
but make them conceive, by the stoutness and 
haughtiness of delivery of the king’s errand, that 
himself was the author or principal persuader of that 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 229 


counsel; whereupon the meaner sort routed together 

and suddenly assailing the earl in his house, slew 
him, and divers of his servants : and rested not there, 
but creating for their leader Sir John Egremont, a 
factious person, and one that had of a long time born 
an ill talent towards the king: and being animated 
also by a base fellow, called John a Chamber, a very 
“ boutefeu,” who bare much sway amongst the vulgar 
and popular, entered into open rebellion ; and gave 
out in flat terms that they would go against King 
Henry, and fight with him for the maintenance of 
their liberties. 

When the king was advertised of this new insur- 
rection, being almost a fever that took him every 
year, after his manner little troubled therewith, he 
sent Thomas, Earl of Surrey, whom he had a little 
before not only released out of the Tower, and par- 
doned, but also received to special favour, with a 
competent power against the rebels, who fought 
with the principal band of them, and defeated them, 
and took alive John a Chamber their firebrand. As 
for Sir John Egremont, he fled into Flanders to the 
Lady Margaret of Burgundy, whose palace was the 
sanctuary and receptacle of all traitors against the 
king. John a Chamber was executed at York in 
great state ; for he was hanged upon a gibbet raised 
a stage higher in the midst of a square gallows, as a 
traitor paramount; and a number of his men that 
were his chief complices, were hanged upon the lower 
story round about him; and the rest were generally 
pardoned. Neither did the king himself omit his 


230 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


custom, to be first or second in all his warlike ex- 
ploits, making good his word, which was usual with 
him when he heard of rebels, that he desired but to see 
them. For immediately after he had sent down the 
Earl of Surrey, he marched towards them himself in 
person. And although in his journey he heard news 
of the victory, yet he went on as far as York, to pa- 
cify and settle those countries ; and that done, re- 
turned to London, leaving the Earl of Surrey for his 
- lieutenant in the northern parts, and Sir Richard 
Tunstal for his principal commissioner, to levy the 
subsidy, whereof he did not remit a denier. 

About the same time that the king lost so good 
a servant as the Earl of Northumberland, he lost 
likewise a faithful friend and ally of James the Third, 
King of Scotland, by a miserable disaster. For this 
unfortunate prince, after a long smother of discon- 
tent, and hatred of many of his nobility and people, 
breaking forth at times into seditions and alterations 
of court, was at last distressed by them, having taken 
arms, and surprised the person of Prince James, his 
son, partly by force, partly by threats, that they 
would otherwise deliver up the kingdom to the King 
of England, to shadow their rebellion, and to be the 
titular and painted head of those arms. Whereupon 
the king, finding himself too weak, sought unto 
King Henry, as also unto the Pope, and the King of 
France, to compose those troubles between him and 
his subjects. The kings accordingly interposed their 
mediation in a round and princely manner ; not only 
by way of request and persuasion, but also by way 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 231 


of protestation and menace; declaring, that they 
they thought it to be the common cause of all kings, 
if subjects should be suffered to give laws unto their 
sovereign, and that they would accordingly resent it 
and revenge it. But the rebels, that had shaken off 
the greater yoke of obedience, had likewise cast 
away the lesser tie of respect. And fury prevailing 
above fear, made answer: That there was no talking 
of peace except the king would resign his crown. 
Whereupon, treaty of accord taking no place, it 
came to a battle at Bannocksbourn by Strivelin: in 
which battle the king, transported with wrath and 
just indignation, inconsiderately fighting and pre- 
cipitating the charge, before his whole numbers came 
up to him, was, notwithstanding the contrary express 
and strait commandment of the prince, his son, slain 
in the pursuit, being fled to a mill, situate in a field, 
where the battle was fought. 

As for the Pope’s embassy, which was sent by 
Adrian de Castello, an Italian legate, and perhaps as 
those times were, might have prevailed more, it came 
too late for the embassy, but not for the ambassador, 
For passing through England, and being honour- 
ably entertained, and received of King Henry, who 
ever applied himself with much respect to the See of 
Rome, he fell into great grace with the king, and 
great familiarity and friendship with Morton the 
Chancellor ; insomuch as the king taking a liking to 
him, and finding him to his mind, preferred him to 
the Bishoprick of Hereford, and afterwards to that of 
Bath and Wells, and employed him in many of his 


232 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


affairs of state that had relation to Rome. He was 
a man of great learning, wisdom, and dexterity in 
business of state ; and having not long after ascended 
to the degree of cardinal, paid the king large tribute 
of his gratitude, in diligent and judicious advertise- 
ment of the occurrents of Italy. Nevertheless, in 
the end of his time, he was partaker of the conspiracy 
which Cardinal Alphonso Petrucci and some other 
cardinals had plotted against the life of Pope Leo. 
And this offence, in itself so heinous, was yet in him 
aggravated by the motive thereof, which was not 
malice or discontent, but an aspiring mind to the 
papacy. And in this height of impiety there wanted 
not an intermixture of levity and folly ;- for that, as 
was generally believed, he was animated to expect 
the papacy by a fata) mockery, the prediction GLa 
soothsayer, which was, “ That one should succeed 
“ Pope Leo whose name should be Adrian, an aged 
«‘ man of mean birth, and of great learning and wis- 
« dom.” By which character and figure he took 
himself to be described, though it were fulfilled of 
Adrian the Fleming, son of a Dutch brewer, Cardinal 
of Tortosa, and preceptor unto Charles the Fifth; 
the same that, not changing his Christian name, was 
afterwards called Adrian the Sixth. 

But these things happened in the year following, 
which was the fifth of this king. But in the end of 
the fourth year the king had called again his parlia- 
ment, not, as it seemeth, for any particular occasion 
of state: but the former parliament being ended 
somewhat suddenly, in regard of the preparation for 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 233 


Britain, the king thought he had not remunerated 
his people sufficiently with good laws, which ever- 
more was his retribution for treasure. And finding 
by the insurrection in the north there was discontent- 
ment abroad, in respect of the subsidy, he thought 
it good to give his subjects yet further contentment 
and comfort in that kind. Certainly his times for 
good commonwealth’s laws did excel. So as he may 
justly be celebrated for the best lawgiver to this 
nation, after King Edward the First; for his laws, 
whoso marks them well, are deep, and not vulgar ; 
not made upon the spur of ‘a particular occasion for 
the present, but out of providence of the future, to 
make the estate of his people still more and more 
happy; after the manner of the legislators in ancient 
and heroical times. 

First therefore, he made a law suitable to his own 
acts and times: for as himself had in his person and 
marriage made a final concord in the great suit and 
title for the crown, so by this law he settled the like 
peace and quiet in the private possessions of the sub- 
jects: ordaining, “ That fines thenceforth should be 
“ final, to conclude all strangers’ rights ;” and that 
upon fines levied, and solemnly proclaimed, the sub- 
ject should have his time of watch for five years after 
his title accrued, which if he forepassed, his right 
should be bound for ever after ; with some exception 
nevertheless of minors, married women, and such in- 
competent persons. 

This statute did in effect but restore an ancient 
statute of the realm, which was itself also made but 


234 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


in affirmance of the common law. The alteration 
had been by a statute, commonly called the statute 
of “ non-claim,” made in the time of Edward the 
Third. And surely this law was a kind of prognostic 
of the good peace, which since his time hath, for the 
most part, continued in this kingdom until this day : 
for statutes of “ non-claim” are fit for times of war, 
when men’s heads are troubled that they cannot intend 
their estate; but statutes that quiet possessions, are 
fittest for times of peace, to extinguish suits and 
contentions, which is one of the banes of peace. 

Another statute was made, of singular policy, for 
the population, apparently, and, if it be thoroughly 
considered, for the soldiery and military forces of 
the realm. 

Inclosures at that time began to be more frequent, 
whereby arable land, which could not be manured 
without people and families, was turned into pasture, 
which was easily rid by a few herdsmen; and tenances 
for years, lives, and at will, whereupon much of the 
yeomanry lived, were turned into demesnes. This 
bred a decay of people, and, by consequence, a decay 
of towns, churches, tithes, and the like. The king 
likewise knew full well, and in no wise forgot, that 
there ensued withal upon this a decay and diminu- 
tion of subsidies and taxes ; for the more gentlemen, 
ever the lower books of subsidies. In remedying of 
this inconvenience the king’s wisdom was admirable, 
and the parliament’s at that time. Inclosures they 
would not forbid, for that had been to forbid the 
improvement of the patrimony of the kmgdom ; nor 


PEA 


oe. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 235 


tillage they would not compel, for that was to strive 
with nature and utility: but they took a course to 
take away depopulating inclosures and depopulating 
pasturage, and yet not by that name, or by any im- 
perious express prohibition, but by consequence. 
The ordinance was, “ That all houses of husbandry, 
“that were used with twenty acres of ground and 
“ upwards, should be maintained and kept up for 
“ever; together with a competent proportion of 
“ land to be used and occupied with them ;” and in no 
wise to be severed from them, as by another statute, 
made afterwards in his successor’s time, was more 
fully declared: this upon forfeiture to be taken, not 
by way of popular action, but by seizure of the land 
itself by the king and lords of the fee, as to half the 
profits, till the houses and lands were restored. By 
this means the houses being kept up, did of necessity 
enforce a dweller; and the proportion of land for 
occupation being kept up, did of necessity enforce 
that dweller not to be a beggar or cottager, 
but a man of some substance, that might keep hinds 
and servants, and set the plough on going. ‘This 
did wonderfully concern the might and mannerhood of 
the kingdom, to have farms as it were of a standard, 
sufficient to maintain an able body out of penury, 
and did in effect amortise a great part of the lands 
of the kingdom unto the hold and occupation of the 
yeomanry or middle people, of a condition between 
gentlemen and cottagers or peasants. Now, how 
much this did advance the military power of the 
kingdom is apparent by the true principles of war 
and the examples of other kingdoms. For it hath 
VOL. 3. 0 


236 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


been held by the general opinion of men of best 
judgement in the wars, howsoever some few have 
varied, and that it may receive some distinction of 
case, that the principal strength of an army con- 
sisteth in the infantry or foot. And to make good 
infantry, it requireth men bred, not in a servile or 
indigent fashion, but in some free and plentiful man- 
ner. Therefore if a state run most to noblemen and 
gentlemen, and that the husbandmen and plough- 
men be but as their workfolks and labourers, or else 
mere cottagers, which are but housed beggars, you 
may have a good cavalry but never good stable bands 
of foot; like to coppice woods, that if you leave 
in them staddles too thick, they will run to bushes 
and briars, and have little clean underwood. And 
this is to be seen in France and Italy, and some 
other parts abroad, where in effect all is noblesse or 
peasantry. I speak of people out of towns, and no 
middle people, and therefore no good forces of foot ; 
insomuch as they are enforced to employ mercenary 
bands of Switzers, and the like, for their battalions 
of foot. Whereby also it comes to pass, that those 
nations have much people and few soldiers. Whereas 
the king saw, that contrariwise it would follow, that . 
England, though much less in territory, yet would 
have infinitely more soldiers of their native forces than 
those other nations have. Thus did the king secretly 
sow Hydra’s teeth; whereupon, according to the 
poet’s fiction, should rise up armed men for the ser- 
vice of this kingdom. 

The king also, having care to make his realm 
potent, as well by sea as by land, for the better 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 937 


_ maintenance of the navy, ordained; “ That wines 
“ and woods from the parts of Gascoign and Lan- 
“ guedoc, should not be brought but in English 
** bottoms ;” bowing the ancient policy of this estate, 
from consideration of plenty to consideration of 
power. For that almost all the ancient statutes 
incite by all means merchant-strangers, to bring in 
all sorts of commodities; having for end cheapness, 
and not looking to the point of state concerning the 
naval power. 

The king also made a statute in that parliament, 
monitory and minatory towards justices of peace, 
that they should duly execute their office, inviting 
complaints against them, first to their fellow-justices, 
then to the justices of assize, then to the king or 
chancellor, that a proclamation which he had pub- 
lished of that tenor, should be read in open sessions 
four times a year to keep them awake. Meaning 
also to have his laws executed, and thereby to reap 
either obedience or forfeitures, wherein towards his 
latter times he did decline too much to the left hand, 
he did ordain remedy against the practice that was 
grown in use, to stop and damp informations upon 
penal laws, by procuring informations by collusion, 
to be put in by the confederates of the delinquents, 
to be faintly prosecuted, and let fall at pleasure ; and 
pleading them in bar of the informations, which were 
prosecuted with effect. 

He made also laws for the correction of the mint, 
and counterfeiting of foreign coin current. And 


288 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


that no payment in gold should be made to any 
merchant-stranger, the better to keep treasure within 
the realm, for that gold was the metal that: lay in 
least room. 

He made also statutes for the maintenance of 
drapery, and the keeping of wools within the realm; 
and not only so, but for stinting and limiting the 
prices of cloth, one for the finer, and another for 
the coarser sort. Which I note, both because it was 
a rare thing to set prices by statute, especially upon 
our home commodities ; and because of the wise mo- 
dei of this act, not prescribing prices, but stinting 
them not to exceed a rate; that the clothier might 
drape accordingly as he might afford. 

Divers other good statutes were made that par- 
liament, but these were the principal. And here I 
do desire those into whose hands this work shall fall, 
that they do take in good part my long insisting 
upon the laws that were made in this king’s reign. 
Whercof I have these reasons; both because it was 
the pre-eminent virtue and merit of this king, to 
whose memory I do honour; and because it hath 
some correspondence to my person; but chiefly be- 
cause, in my judgement, it is some defect even in the 
best writers of history, that they do not often enough 
summarily deliver and set down the most memorable 
laws that passed in the times whereof they writ, 
being indeed the principal acts of peace. For 
though they may be had in original books of law 
themselves ; yet that informeth not the judgement of 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 239 


kings and counsellors, and persons of estate, so well 
as to see them described, and entered in the table and 
pourtrait of the times. 

About the same time the king had a loan from 
the city of four thousand pounds ; which was double 
to that they lent before, and was duly and orderly 
paid back at the day, as the former likewise had been; 
the king ever choosing rather to borrow too soon 
than to pay too late, and so keeping up his credit. 

Neither had the king yet cast off his cares and 
hopes touching Britain, but thought to master the 
occasion by policy, though his arms had been unfor- 
tunate; and to bereave the French king of the fruit 
of his victory. The sum of his design was, to en- 
couraye Maximilian to go on with his suit, for the 
marriage of Anne, the heir of Britain, and to aid him 
to the consummation thereof. But the affairs of 
Maximilian were at that time in great trouble and 
combustion, by a rebellion of his subjects in Flanders ; 
especially those of Bruges and Gaunt, whereof the 
town of Bruges, at such time as Maximilian was 
there in person, had suddenly armed in tumult, and 
slain some of his principal officers, and taken himself 
prisoner, and held him in durance till they had en- 
forced him and some of his counsellors to take a 
solemn oath to pardon a!l their offences, and never 
to question and revenge the same in time to come. 
Nevertheless Frederick the emperor would not suffer 
this reproach and indignity offered to his son to pass, 
but made sharp wars upon Flanders to reclaim and 
chastise the rebels. But the Lord Ravenstein, a 


24.0 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


principal person about Maximilian, and one that had 
taken the oath of abolition with his master, pretend- 
ing the religion thereof, but indeed upon private 
ambition, and, as it was thought, instigated and cor- 
rupted from France, forsook the emperor and Maxi- 
milian his lord, and made himself an head of the 
popular party, and seized upon the towns of Ipres 
and Sluice with both the castles: and forthwith sent 
to the Lord Cordes, governor of Picardy under the 
French king, to desire aid; and to move him, that 
he, on the behalf of the French king, would be pro- 
tector of the United Towns, and by force of arms 
reduce the rest. The Lord Cordes was ready to 
embrace the occasion, which was partly of his own 
setting, and sent forthwith greater forces than it had 
been possible for him to raise on the sudden, if he 
had not looked for such a summons before, in aid of 
the Lord Ravenstein and the Flemings, with instruc- 
tions to invest the towns between France and Bruges. 
The French forces besieged a little town called 
Dixmude, where part of the Flemish forces joined 
with them. While they lay at this siege, the King 
of England, upon pretence of the safety of the Eng- 
lish pale about Calais, but in truth being loth that 
Maximilian should become contemptible, and thereby 
be shaken off by the states of Britain about this mar- 
riage, sent over the Lord Morley with a thousand 
men, unto the Lord D’Aubigny, then deputy of 
Calais, with secret instructions to aid Maximilian, 
and to raise the siege of Dixmude. The Lord 
D’Aubigny, giving it out that all was for the strength- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 241 


ening of the English marches, drew out of the garrisons 
of Calais, Hammes, and Guines, to the number of a 
thousand men more. So that with the fresh succours 
that came under the conduct of the Lord Morley, 
they made up to the number of two thousand or 
better. Which forces joining with some companies 
of Almains, put themselves into Dixmude, not per- 
ceived by the enemies; and passing through the 
town with some reinforcement, from the forces that 
were in the town, assailed the enemies camp negli- 
gently guarded, as being out of fear; where there 
was a bloody fight, in which the English and their 
partakers obtained the victory, and slew to the num- 
ber of eight thousand men, with the loss on the 
English part of a hundred or thereabouts ; amongst 
whom was the Lord Morley. They took also their 
great ordnance, with much rich spoils, which they 
carried to Newport; whence the Lord D’Aubigny 
returned to Calais, leaving the hurt men and some 
other voluntariesin Newport. But the Lord Cordes 
being at Ipres with a great power of men, thinking 
to recover the loss and disgrace of the fight at Dix- 
mude, came presently on, and sat down before New- 
port, and besieged it; and after some days siege, he 
resolved to try the fortune of an assault. Which he 
did one day, and succeeded therein so far, that he 
had taken the principal tower and fort in that city, 
and planted upon it the French banner. Whence 
nevertheless they were presently beaten forth by the 
English, by the help of some fresh succours of archers, 
arriving by good fortune, at the instant, in the haven 


2492 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of Newport. Whereupon the Lord Cordes, dis- 
couraged, and measuring the new succours, which 
were small, by the success, which was great, levied 
his siege. By this means matters grew more exas- 
perate between the two kings of England and 
France, for that, in the war of Flanders, the auxiliary 
forces of French and English were much blooded 
one against another. Which blood rankled the more, 
by the vain words of the Lord Cordes, that declared 
himself an open enemy of the English, beyond that 
that appertained to the present service ; making it a 
common by-word of his, “ That he could be content 
‘to lie in hell seven years, so he might win Calais 
“ from the English.” 

The king having thus upheld the reputation of 
Maximilian, advised him now to press on his mar- 
riage with Britain to a conclusion. Which Maximi- 
lian accordingly did, and so far forth prevailed, both 
with the young lady and with the principal persons 
about her, as the marriage was consummated by 
proxy, with a ceremony at that time in these parts 
new. For she was not only publicly contracted, 
but stated, as a bride, and solemnly bedded; and 
after she was laid, there came in Maximilian’s am- 
bassador with letters of procuration, and in the pre- 
sence of sundry noble personages, men and women, 
put his leg, stript naked to the knee, between the 
espousal sheets; to the end, that that ceremony 
might be thought to amount to a consummation and 
actual knowledge. ‘This done, Maximilian, whose 
property was to leave things then when they were 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 243 


almost come to perfection, and to end them by ima- 
gination ; like ill archers, that draw not their arrows 
up to the head ; and who might as easily have bedded 
the lady himself, as to have made a play and disguise 
of it, thinking now all assured, neglected for a time 
his further proceeding, and intended his wars. Mean- 
while the French king, consulting with his divines, 
and finding that this pretended consummation was 
rather an invention of court, than any ways valid by 
the laws of the church, went more really to work, 
and by secret instruments and cunning agents, as 
well matrons about the young lady as counsellors, 
first sought to remove the point of religion and ho- 
nour out of the mind of the lady herself, wherein 
there was a double labour. For Maximilian was not 
only contracted unto the lady, but Maximilian’s 
daughter was likewise contracted to King Charles. 
So as the marriage halted upon both feet, and was 
not clear on either side. But for the contract with 
King Charles, the exception lay plain and fair ; for 
that Maximilian’s daughter was under years of con- 
sent, and so not bound by law, but a power of dis- 
agreement left to either part. But for the contract 
made by Maximilian with the lady herself, they were 
harder driven; having nothing to alledge, but that 
it was done without the consent of her sovereign 
lord King Charles, whose ward and client she was, 
and he to her in place of a father; and therefore it 
was void and of no force for want of such consent. 
Which defect, they said, though it would not eva- 
cuate a marriage after cohabitation and actual con- 


244. HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIL. 


summation, yet it was enough to make void a con- 
tract. For as for the pretended consummation, they 
made sport with it and said, “ That was an argu- 
“ment that Maximilian was a widower, and a cold 
“ wooer, that could content himself to be a bride- 
“groom by deputy, and would not make a little 
“ journey to put all out of question.” So that the 
young lady, wrought upon by these reasons, finely 
instilled by such as the French king, who spared for 
no rewards or promises, had made on his side; and 
allured likewise by the present glory and greatness 
of King Charles, being also a young king and a 
bachelor, and loth to make her country the seat of a 
long and miserable war, secretly yielded to accept of 
King Charles. But during this secret treaty with 
the lady, the better to save it from blasts of opposi- 
tion and interruption, King Charles resorting to his 
wonted arts, and thinking to carry the marriage as 
he had carried the wars, by entertaining the King of 
England in vain belief, sent a solemn ambassage by 
Francis Lord of Luxemburg, Charles Marignian, and 
Robert Gagvien, general of the order of the “ Bons 
“ Hommes” of the Trinity, to treat a peace and league 
with the king, accoupling it with an article in the 
nature of a request, that the French king might 
with the king’s good will, according unto his right 
of seigniory and tutelage, dispose of the marriage of 
the young Duchess of Britain as he should think 
good ; offering by a judicial proceeding to make void 
the marriage of Maximilian by proxy. Also all this 
while, the better to amuse the world, he did continue 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 245 


in his court and custody the daughter of Maximilian, 
who formerly had been sent unto him to be bred and 
educated in France ; not dismissing or renvoying her, 
but contrariwise professing and giving out strongly 
that he meant to proceed with that match. And 
that for the Duchess of Britain, he desired only to 
preserve his right of seigniory, and to give her‘in 


marriage to some such ally as might depend upon } 
him. i 

When the three commissioners came to the court 
of England, they delivered their ambassage unto the 
king, who remitted them to his council ; where some 
days after they had audience, and made their proposi- 
tion by the Prior of the Trinity, who though he were 
third in place, yet was held the best speaker of them, 
to this effect. 

“ My lords, the king our master, the greatest 
“and mightiest king that reigned in France since 
** Charles the Great, whose name he beareth, hath 
“nevertheless thought it no disparagement to his 
‘“ greatness at this time to propound a peace; yea, 
“and to pray a peace with the King of England. 
“ For which purpose he hath sent us his commis- 
 sioners, instructed and enabled with full and ample 
“ power to treat and conclude; giving us further in 
“ charge, to open in some other business the secrets 
“of his own intentions. These be indeed the pre- 
*‘ cious love-tokens between great kings, to commu- 
“nicate one with another the true state of their 
“ affairs, and to pass by nice points of honour, which 
“ought not to give law unto affection. This I do 


246 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ assure your lordships; it is not possible for you to 
“imagine the true and cordial love that the king 
“our master beareth to your sovereign, except you 
“ were near him as we are. He useth his name with 
“so great respect; he remembereth their first ac- 
“ quaintance at Paris with so great contentment ; 
“ nay, he never speaks of him, but that presently he 
“ falls into discourse of the miseries of great kings, 
“in that they cannot converse with their equals but 
“with servants. This affection to your king’s person 
“and virtues God hath put into the heart of our 
“master, no doubt for the good of Christendom, 
“and for purposes yet unknown to us all. For 
‘* other root it cannot have, since it was the same to 
“ the Earl of Richmond, that it is now to the King of 
“England. This is therefore the first motive 
“that makes our king to desire peace and league 
“ with your sovereign: good affection, and some- 
“ what that he finds in his own heart. This affec- 
“ tion is also armed with reason of estate. For our 
“ king doth in all candour and frankness of dealing 
“ open himself unto you; that having an honourable, 
“ vea, and an holy purpose, to make a voyage and 
“ war in remote parts, he considereth that it will be 
‘* of no small effect, in point of reputation to his en- 
“ terprise, if it be known abroad that he is in good 
“¢ peace with all his neighbour princes, and especially 
“ with the King of England, whom for good causes 
“ he esteemeth most. 

“ But now, my lords, give me leave to use a few 
“‘ words to remove all scruples and misunderstand- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 247 


“ ings between your sovereign and ours, concerning 
“ some late actions; which if they be not cleared, 
“‘ may perhaps hinder this peace. ‘To the end that 
“ for matters past neither king may conceive unkind- 
“ness of other, nor think the other conceiveth un- 
“ kindness of him. The late actions are two; that 
“ of Britain, and that of Flanders. In both which 
“it is true that the subjects’ swords of both kings 
“have encou: tered and stricken, and the ways and 
“ inclinations also of the two kings, in respect of their 
** confederates and allies, have severed. 

“ For that of Britain, the king your sovereign 
“ knoweth best what hath passed. It was a war of 
“necessity on our master’s part. And though the 
“ motives of it were sharp and piquant as could be, 
“‘ yet did he make that war rather with an olive- 
“branch, than a laurel-branch in his hand, more 
“desiring peace than victory. Besides, from time 
“ to time he sent, as it were, blank papers to your 
“ king to write the conditions of peace. For though 
“both his honour and safety went upon it, yet he 
“thought neither of them too precious to put 
“into the King of England’s hands. Neither doth 
“our king on the other side make any unfriendly 
“ interpretation of your king’s sending of succours 
“to the duke of Britain; for the king knoweth well 
“that many things must be done of kings for satis- 
“ faction of their people; and it is not hard to dis- 
“cern what is a king’s own. But this matter 
“of Britain is now, by the act of God, ended and 
“ passed; and, as the king hopeth, like the way of a 


248 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ ship in the sea, without leaving any impression in 
“ either of the kings’ minds; as he is sure for his part 
“ it hath not done in his. 

“ For the action of Flanders: as the former of 
« Britain was a war of necessity, so this was a war of 
justice; which with a good king is of equal neces- 
“ sity with danger of estate, for else he should leave 
“to be aking. The subjects of Burgundy are sub- 
“jects in chief to the crown of France, and their 
“duke the homager and vassal of France. They 
«had wont to be good subjects, howsoever Maxi- 
« milian hath of late distempered them. They fled 
“to the king for justice and deliverance from op- 
“pression. Justice he could not deny ; purchase he 
“ did not seek. This was good for Maximilian, if 
« he could have seen it in people mutinied, to arrest 
« fury, and prevent despair. My lords, it may be 
<¢ this I have said is needless, save that the king our 
«‘ master is tender in any thing that may glance upon 
“the friendship of England. The amity between 
“the two kings, no doubt, stands entire and invio- 
‘late; and that their subjects’ swords have clashed, 
“ it is nothing unto the public peace of the crowns ; 
« it being a thing very usual in auxiliary forces of the 
“ best and straitest confederates to meet and draw 
“ blood in the field. Nay many times there be aids of 
“the same nation on both sides, and yet it is not, 
‘© for all that, a kingdom divided in itself. 

« It resteth, my lords, that | impart unto you a 
‘matter that I know your lordships all will much 
“yejoice to hear; as that which importeth the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 249 


« Christian common weal more than any action that 
“ hath happened of long time. The king our master 
“hath a purpose and determination to make war 
“upon the kingdom of Naples; being now in the 
‘¢ possession of a bastard slip of Arragon, but apper- 
“ taining unto his Majesty by clear and undoubted 
“ right ; which if he should not by just arms seek to 
“recover, he could neither acquit his honour nor 
“answer it to his people. But his noble and 
“ Christian thoughts rest not here: for his resolu- 
“ tion and hope is, to make the reconquest of Naples, 
“ but as a bridge to transport his forces into Grecia; 
“ and not to spare blood or treasure, if it were to 
“the impawning of his crown and dispeopling of 
“ France, till either he hath overthrown the empire 
“ of the Ottomans, or taken it in his way to Paradise. 
“ The king knoweth well, that this is a design that 
“ could not arise in the mind of any king that did 
“not steadfastly look up unto God, whose quarrel 
“ this is, and from whom cometh both the will and 
“the deed. But yet it is agreeable to the person 
“that he beareth, though unworthy of the thrice 
“ Christian King and the eldest son of the church. 
“ Whereunto he is also invited by the example, in 
‘more ancient time, of King Henry the Fourth of 
“ England, the first renowned king of the house of 
“ Lancaster; ancestor, though not progenitor to 
“ your king; who had a purpose towards the end of 
“‘ his time, as you know better, to make an expedi- 
“ tion into the Holy Land ; and by the example also, 
“‘ present before his eyes, of that honourable and 


250 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ religious war which the King of Spain now maketh, 
“ and hath almost brought to perfection, for the re- 
“covery of the realm of Granada from the Moors. 
“ And although this enterprise may seem vast and 
“ unmeasured, for the king to attempt that by his 
“ own forces, wherein heretofore a conjunction of 
“most of the Christian princes hath found work 
“ enough ; yet his Majesty wisely considereth, that 
“ sometimes smaller forces being united under one 
“ command,are more effectual in proof, though not so 
“ promising in opinion and fame, than much greater 
«¢ forces, variously compounded by associations and 
“ leagues, which commonly in a short time after 
‘“ their beginnings turn to dissociations and divisions. 
« But, my lords, that which is as a voice from heaven, 
“ that calleth the king to this enterprise, is a rent at 
“ this time in the house of the Ottomans. I do not 
“ say but there hath been brother against brother in 
“ that house before, but never any that had refuge 
« to the arms of the Christians, as now hath Gemes, 
“ brother unto Bajazet that reigneth, the far braver 
“ man of the two, the other being a monk and a phi- 
‘‘losopher, and better read in the Alcoran and 
«“ Averroes, than able to wield the sceptre of so war- 
“like an empire. This therefore is the king our 
«‘ master’s memorable and heroical resolution for an 
“holy war. And because he carrieth in this the 
« person of a Christian soldier, as well as of a great 
“ temporal monarch, he beginneth with humility, 
“ and is content for this cause to beg peace at the 
« hands of other Christian kings. There remaineth 


4 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 251 


“ only rather a civil request than any essential part 
“ of our negociation, which the king maketh’to the 
“king your sovereign. The king, as all the world 
“ knoweth, is lord in chief of the Duchy of Britain. 
“ The marriage of the heir belongeth to him as 
“ guardian This is a private patrimonial right, and 
“no business of estate: yet nevertheless, to run a 
“ fair course with your king, whom he desires to 
** make another himself, and to be one and the same 
“ thing with him, his request is, that withsthe king’s 
“ favour and consent he may dispose of her mar- 
“ riage, as he thinketh good, and make void the in- 
“truded and pretended marriage of Maximilian, 
“ according to justice. ‘This, my lords, is all that I 
“have to say, desiring your pardon for my weak- 
“ ness in the delivery.” 

Thus did the French ambassadors with great 
shew of their king’s affection, and many sugared 
words, seek to addulce all matters between the two 
kings, having two things for their ends; the one to 
keep the king quiet till the marriage of Britain was 
past; and this was but a summer fruit, which they 
thought was almost ripe, and would be soon ga- 
thered. ‘The other was more lasting; and that was 
to put him into such a temper as he might be no 
disturbance or impediment to the voyage for Italy: 
The lords of the council were silent ; and said only, 
** That they knew the ambassadors would look for 
“no answer, till they had reported to the king ;” 
and so they rose from council. The king could not 
well tell what to think of the marriage of Britain. 

VOL. 3. P 


B57 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


He saw plainly the ambition of the French king was 
to impatronise himself of the duchy ; but he won- 
dered he would bring into his house a litigious 
marriage, especially considering who was his suc- 
cessor. But weighing one thing with another he 
gave Britain for lost; but resolved to make his 
profit of this business of Britain, as a quarrel for 
war; and that of Naples, as a wrench and mean for 
peace; being well advertised, how strongly the king 
was bent upon that action. Having therefore con- 
ferred divers times with his council, and keeping 
himself somewhat close, he gave a direction to the 
chancellor, for a formal answer to the ambassadors, 
and that he did in the presence of his council. And 
after calling the chancellor to him apart, bad him 
speak in such language as was fit for a treaty that 
was to end in a breach; and gave him also a special 
caveat, that he should not use any words to dis- 
courage the voyage of Italy. Soon after the ambas- 
sadors were sent for to the council, and the lord 
chancellor spake to them in this sort : 

« My lords ambassadors, I shall make answer, by 
“the king’s commandment, unto the eloquent de- 
« claration of you, my lord prior, in a brief and plain 
“manner. The king forgetteth not his former love 
“and acquaintance with the king your master ; but 
‘¢ of this there needeth no repetition. For if it be 
“ between them as it was, it is well; if there be any 
“ alteration, it is not words that will make it up. 

“ For the business of Britain, the king findeth it 
« a little strange that the French king maketh men- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 953 


“ tion of it as matter of well deserving at his hand: 
“for that deserving was no more but to make him 
“ his instrument to surprise one of his best confede- 
“rates. And for the marriage, the king would not 
“meddle in it, if your master would marry by the 
“ book, and not by the sword. 

“For that of Flanders, if the subjects of Bur- 
“ gundy had appealed to your king as their chief 
“Jord, at first by way of supplication, it might have 
“had a shew of justice: but it was a new form of 
“ process, for subjects to imprison their prince first, 
“¢ and to slay his officers, and then to be complain- 
“ants. The king saith, That sure he is, when the 
“French king and himself sent to the subjects of 
“ Scotland, that had taken arms against their king, | 
“ they both spake in another style, and did in princely 
“manner signify their detestation of popular atten- 
“tates upon the person or authority of princes. 
“ But, my lords ambassadors, the king leaveth these 
“ two actions thus: that on the one side he hath not 
“received any manner of satisfaction from you ¢on- 
“ cerning them; and on the other, that he doth not 
“‘ apprehend them so deeply, as in respect of them 
“ to refuse to treat of peace, if other things may go 
“hand in hand. As for the war of Naples, and the 
“ design against the Turk: the king hath commanded 
“«me expressly to say, that he doth wish with all his 
“ heart to his good brother the French king, that his 
“ fortunes may succeed according to his hopes and 
“ honourable intentions. And whensoever he shall 
“ hear that he is prepared for Grecia, as your master 


254: HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“is pleased now to say that he beggeth a peace of the 
“ king, so the king will then beg of him a part in 
“ that war. 

“ But now, my lords ambassadors, I am to pro- 
“ pound unto you somewhat on the king’s part: the 
“king your master hath taught our king what to 
“say and demand. You say, my lord prior, that 
“ your king is resolved to recover his right to Na- 
“ ples, wrongfully detained from him. And that if 
“he should not thus do, he could not acquit his 
“honour, nor answer it to his people. Think, my 
‘lords, that the king our master saith the same 
“thing over again to you touching Normandy, - 
“ Guienne, Anjou, yea, and the kingdom of France 
“itself. I cannot express it better than in your 
“ own words: If therefore the French king shall 
“ consent, that the king our master’s title to France, 
‘at least tribute for the same, be handled in the 
“ treaty, the king is content to go on with the rest, 
« otherwise he refuseth to treat.” 

The ambassadors, being somewhat abashed with 
this demand, answered in some heat: That they 
doubted not, but the king their sovereign’s sword 
would be able to maintain his sceptre: and they 
assured theinselves, he neither could nor would 
yield to any diminution of the crown of France 
either in territory or regality : but, howsoever, they 
were too great matters for them to speak of, having 
no commission. It was replied, that the king looked 
for no other answer from them, but would forthwith 
send his own ambassadors to the French king. ‘There 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 255 


was a question also asked at the table ; whether the 
French king would agree to have the disposing of 
the marriage of Britain with an exception and 
exclusion that he should not marry her himself? 
To which the ambassadors answered: ‘That it was 
so far out of their king’s thoughts, as they had re- 
ceived no instructions touching the same. Thus 
were the ambassadors dismissed, all save the prior ; 
and were followed immediately by Thomas, Earl of 
Ormond, and Thomas Goldenston, Prior of Christ 
Church in Canterbury, who were presently sent over 
into France. In the mean space Lionel, Bishop of 
Concordia, was sent as nuncio from Pope Alexander 
the Sixth to both kings, to move a peace between 
them. For Pope Alexander, finding himself pent 
and locked up by a league and association of the 
principal states of Italy, that he could not make his 
way for the advancement of his own house, which he 
immoderately thirsted after, was desirous to trouble 
the waters in Italy, that he might fish the better ; 
casting the net not out of St. Peter’s, but out of 
Borgia’s bark. And doubting lest the fears from 
England might stay the French king’s voyage into 
Italy, dispatched this bishop to compose all matters 
between the two kings if he could: who first re- 
paired to the French king, and finding him well 
inclined, as he conceived, took on his journey to- 
wards England, and found the English ambassadors 
at Calais, on their way towards the French king. 
After some conference with them, he was in honour- 
able manner transported over into England, where 


956 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


he had audience of the king. But notwithstanding 
he had a good ominous name to have made a peace, 
nothing followed : for in the mean time the purpose 
of the French king to marry the duchess could be 
no longer dissembled. Wherefore the English am- 
bassadors finding how things went, took their leave, 
and returned. And the prior also was warned from 
hence to depart out of England. Who when he 
turned his back, more like a pedant than an ambas- 
sador, dispersed a bitter libel, in Latin verse, against 
the king; unto which the king, though he had 
nothing of a pedant, yet was content to cause an 
answer to be made in like verse ; and that as speak- 
ing in his own person, but in a style of scorn and 
sport. About this time also was born the king’s 
second son Henry, who afterward reigned. And 
soon after followed the solemnization of the marriage 
between Charles, and Anne, Duchess of Britain, 
with whom he received the Duchy of Britain as her 
dowry, the daughter of Maximilian being a little 
before sent home. Which when it came to the ears 
of Maximilian, who would never believe it till it was 
done, being ever the principal in deceiving himself, 
though in this the French king did very handsomely 
second it, and tumbling it over and over in his 
thoughts, that he should at one blow with such a dou- 
ble scorn, be defeated, both of the marriage of his 
daughter and his own, upon both which he had fixed 
high imaginations, he lost all patience, and casting 
off the respects fit to be continued between great 
kings, even when their blood is hottest, and most 


? 


*. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 257 


risen, fell to bitter invectives against the person and 
actions of the French king. And, by how muck he was 
the less able to do, talking so much the more, 
spake all the injuries he could devise of Charles, 
saying: That he was the most perfidious man upon 
the earth, and that he had made a marriage com- 
pounded between an advowtry and a rape; which 
was done, he said, by the just judgement of God ; to 
the end that, the nullity thereof being so apparent 
to all the world, the race of so unworthy a person 
might not reign in France. And forthwith he sent 
ambassadors as well to the King of England as to 
the King of Spain, to incite them to war, and to 
treat a league offensive against France, promising to 
concur with great forces of his own. Hereupon the 
King of England, going nevertheless his own way, 
called a parliament, it being the seventh year of his 
‘reign; and the first day of opening thereof, sitting 
under his cloth of estate, spake himself unto his 
lords and commons in this manner : 
« My lords, and you the commons, when I pur- 
“ posed to make a war in Britain by my lieutenant, 
“IT made declaration thereof to you by my chan- 
“cellor. But now that I mean to make a war upon 
“ France in person, I will declare it to you myself. 
“ That war was to defend another man’s right, but 
“ this is to recover our own; and that ended by 
“ accident, but we hope this shall end in victory. 
“ The French king troubles the Christian world: 
“ that which he hath is not his own, and yet he 
«seeketh more. He hath invested himself of Bri- 
“ tain: he maintaineth the rebels in Flanders : and he 


958 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“threateneth Italy. For ourselves, he hath pro- 
** ceeded from dissimulation to neglect ; and from 
“ neglect to contumely. He hath assailed our con- 
“ federates ; he denicth our tribute: in a word, he 
“ seeks war: so did not his father, but sought peace 
“at our hands; and so perhaps will he, when good 
“ counsel or time shall make him see as much as his 
“ father did. 

* Mean while, let us make his ambition our ad- 
“vantage; and let us not stand upon a few crowns 
“ of tribute or acknowledgement, but, by the favour 
“ of Almighty God, try our right for the crown of 
“ France itself; remembering that there hath been 
“a French king prisoner in England, and a King of 
“ England crowned in France. Our confederates are 
“not diminished. Burgundy is in a mightier hand 
“ than ever, and never more provoked. Britain can- 
“ not help us, but it may hurt them. New acquests 
‘‘ are more burden than strength. The malcontents 
“of his own kingdom have not been base, popular, 
“nor titulary impostors, but of an higher nature. 
“ The King of Spain, doubt ye not, will join with us, 
“ not knowing where the French king’s ambition will 
“stay. Our holy father the pope likes no Tramon- 
“ tanes in Italy. But howsoever it be, this matter 
“ of confederates is rather to be thought on than 
“reckoned on. For God forbid but England should 
‘« be able to get reason of France without a second. 

“ At the battles of Cressy, Poictiers, Agincourt, 
‘“ we were of ourselves. France hath much people, 
“ and few soldiers. They have no stable bands of 
“foot. Some good horse they have; but those are 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII, 259 


“6 forces which are least fit for a defensive war, where 
“the actions are in the assailant’s choice. It was 
“our discords only that lost France; and, by the 
“ power of God, it is the good peace which we now 
“enjoy, that will recover it. God hath hitherto 
‘‘ blessed my sword. Ihave, in this time that I have 
* reigned, weeded out my bad subjects, and tried 
““my good. My people and I know one another, 
‘‘ which breeds confidence: and if there should be 
“ any bad blood left in the kingdom, an honourable 
“ foreign war will vent it or purify it. In this great 
“ business let me have your advice and aid. If any 
“of you were to make his son knight, you might 
“have aid of your tenants by law. This concerns 
“the knighthood and spurs of the kingdom, whereof 
“Tam father; and bound not only to seek to main- 
“ tain it, but to advance it: but for matter of treasure, 
“ let it not be taken from the poorest sort, but from 
“ those to whom the benefit of the war may redound. 
“‘ France is no wilderness ; and J, that profess good 
“husbandry, hope to make the war, after the be- 
“ginnings to’ pay itself. Go together in God’s 
“ name, and lose no time ; for I have called this par- 
“ }iament wholly for this cause.” 

Thus spake the king ; but for all this, though he 
shewed great forwardness for a war, not only to his 
parliament and court, but to his privy council like- 
wise, except the two bishops and a few more, yet 
nevertheless in his secret intentions he had no pur- 
pose to go through with any war upon France. But 
the truth was, that he did but traffic with that war, 
to make his return in money. He knew well, that 


260 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


France was now entire and at unity with itself, and 
never so mighty many years before. He saw by the 
taste that he had of his forces sent into Britain, that 
the French knew well enough how to make war 
with the English, by not putting things to the 
hazard of a battle, but wearing them by long sieges 
of towns, and strong fortified encampings. James 
the Third of Scotland, his true friend and confede- 
rate, gone; and James the Fourth, that had suc- 
ceeded, wholly at the devotion of France, and ill 
affected towards him. As for the conjunctions of 
Ferdinando of Spain and Maximilian, he could make 
no foundation upon them. For the one had power, 
and not will; and the other had will, and not power. 
Besides that, Ferdinando had but newly taken breath 
from the war with the Moors; and merchanded at 
this time with France for the restoring of the coun- 
ties of Russignon and Perpignan, oppignorated to 
the French. Neither was he out of fear of the dis- 
‘contents and ill blood within the realm ; which having 
used always to repress and appease in person, he 
was loth they should find him at a distance beyond 
sea, and engaged in war. Finding therefore the in- 
conveniences and difficulties in the prosecution of a 
war, he cast with himself how to compass two things. 
The one, how by the declaration and inchoation of a 
war to make his profit. The other, how to come off 
from the war with saving of his honour. For profit, 
it was to be made two ways; upon his subjects for 
the war, and upon his enemies for the peace ; like a 
good merchant, that maketh his gain both upon the 
commodities exported, and imported back again. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 261 


For the point of honour, wherein he might suffer for 
giving over the war; he considered well, that as he 
could not trust upon the aids of Ferdinando and 
Maximilian for supports of war; so the impuissance 
of the one, and the double proceeding of the other, 
lay fair for him for occasions to accept of peace. 
These things he did wisely foresee, and did as arti- 
ficially conduct, whereby all things fell into his lap 
as he desired. 

For as for the parliament, it presently took fire, 
being affectionate, of old, to the war of France ; and 
desirous afresh to repair the dishonour they thought 
the king sustained by the loss of Britain. There- 
fore they advised the king, with great alacrity, to 
undertake the war of France. And although the 
parliament consisted of the first and second nobility 
together with principal citizens and townsmen, yet 
worthily and justly respecting more the people, 
whose deputies they were, than their own private 
persons, and finding by the Lord Chancellor’s speech 
the king’s inclination that way, they consented that 
commissioners should go forth for the gathering and 
levying of a benevolence from the more able sort. 
This tax, called a benevolence, was devised by 
Edward the Fourth, for which he sustained much 
envy. It was abolished by Richard the Third by act 
of parliament, to ingratiate himself with the people; 
and it was now revived by the king, but with consent 
of parliament, for so it was not in the time of King 
Edward the Fourth. But by this way he raised 
exceeding great sums. Insomuch as the city of 
London, in those days, contributed nine thousand 


962 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


pounds and better; and that chiefly levied upon the 
wealthier sort. There is a tradition of a dilemma, 
that Bishop Morton the chancellor used, to raise up 
the benevolence to higher rates ; and some called it 
his fork, and some his crutch. For he had couched 
an article in the instructions to the commissioners 
who were to levy the benevolence; “ That if they 
“met with any that were sparing, they should tell 
“them, that they must needs have, because they 
“laid up: and if they were spenders, they must 
“needs have, because it was seen in their port and 
“ manner of living.” So neither kind came amiss. 

This parliament was merely a parliament of war; 
for it was in substance but a declaration of war 
against France and Scotland, with some statutes 
conducing thereunto: as, the severe punishing of 
mort-pays, and keeping back of soldiers’ wages in 
captains; the like severity for the departure of 
soldiers without licence ; strengthening of the com+ 
mon law in favour of protections for those that were 
in the king’s service ; and the setting the gate open 
and wide for men to sell or mortgage their lands, 
without fines for alienation, to furnish themselves 
with money for the war; and lastly, the voiding of 
all Scottish men out of England. ‘There was also a 
statute for the dispersing of the standard of the ex- 
chequer throughout England; thereby to size weights 
and measures; and two or three more of less im- 
portance. 

After the parliament was broken up, which lasted 
not long, the king went on with his preparations for 
the war of France; yet neglected not in the mean 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 263. 


time the affairs of Maximilian for the quieting of 
Flanders, and restoring him to his authority amongst 
his subjects. For at that time the lord of Raven- 
stein, being not only a subject rebelled, but a servant 
revolted, and so much the more malicious and yio- 
lent, by the aid of Bruges and Gaunt, had taken the 
town and both the castles of Sluice, as we said be- 
fore: and having, by the commodity of the haven, 
gotten together certain ships and barks, fell to a 
kind of piratical trade; robbing and spoiling, and 
taking prisoners the ships and vessels of all nations 
that passed along that coast towards the mart of 
Antwerp, or into any part of Brabant, Zealand, or 
Friezeland; being ever well victualled from Picardy, 
besides the commodity of victuals from Sluice, and 
the country adjacent, and the avails of his own 
prizes. The French assisted him still underhand ; 
and he likewise, as all men do that have been of both 
sides, thought himself not safe, except he depended 
upon a third person. | 

There was a small town some two miles from 
Bruges towards the sea, called Dam; which was a 
fort and approach to Bruges, and had a relation also 
to Sluice. 

This town the king of the Romans had attempted 
often, not for any worth of the town in itself, but 
because it might choke Bruges, and cut it off from 
the sea, and ever failed. But therewith the Duke 
of Saxony came down into Flanders, taking upon 
him the person of an umpire, to compose things 
between Maximilian and his subjects; but being, 


264 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


indeed, fast and assured to Maximilian. Upon this 
pretext of neutrality and treaty he repaired to 
Bruges, desiring of the States of Bruges to enter 
peaceably into their town, with a retinue of some 
number of men of arms fit for his estate; being 
somewhat the more, as he said, the better to guard 
him in a country that was up in arms: and bearing 
them in hand, that he was to communicate with 
them of divers matters of great importance for their 
good. Which having obtained of them, he sent his 
carriages and harbingers before him, to provide his 
lodging. So that his men of war entered the city in 
good array, but in peaceable manner, and he followed. 
They that went before inquired still for inns and 
lodgings, as if they would have rested there all night; 
and so went on till they came to the gate that leadeth 
directly towards Dam; and they of Bruges only gazed 
upon them and gave them passage. The captains 
and inhabitants of Dam also suspected no harm from 
any that passed through Bruges; and discovering 
forces afar off supposed they had been some succours 
that were come from their friends, knowing some 
dangers towards them. And so perceiving nothing 
but well till it was too late, suffered them to enter 
their town. By which kind of slight, rather than 
stratagem, the town of Dam was taken, and the town 
of Bruges shrewdly blocked up, whereby they took 
great discouragement. 

The Duke of Saxony, having won the town of 
Dam, sent immediately to the king to let him know, 
that it was Sluice chiefly, and the Lord Ravenstein, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 265 


that kept the rebellion of Flanders in life: and that 
if it pleased the king to besiege it by sea, he also 
would besiege it by land, and so cut out the core of 
those wars. 

The king, willing to uphold the authority of 
Maximilian, the better to hold France in awe, and 
being likewise sued unto by his merchants, for that 
the seas were much infested by the barks of the Lord 
Ravenstein; sent straightways Sir Edward Poynings, 
a valiaut man, and of good service, with twelve ships, 
well furnished with soldiers and artillery, to clear 
the seas, and to besiege Sluice on that part. The 
Englishmen did not only coop up the Lord Raven- 
stein, that he stirred not, and likewise hold in strait 
siege the maritime part of the town, but also assailed 
one of the castles, and renewed the assault so for 
twenty days space, issuing still out of their ships at 
the ebb, as they made great slaughter of them of the 
castle ; who continually fought with them to repulse 
them, though of the English part also were slain a 
brother of the Earl of Oxford’s, and some fifty more. 

But the siege still continuing more and more 
strait, and both the castles, which were the principal 
‘strength of the town, being distressed, the one by the 
Duke of Saxony, and the other by the English ; and 
a bridge of boats, which the Lord Ravenstein had 
made between both castles, whereby succours and 
relief might pass from the one to the other, being on 
a night set on fire by the English. he despairing to 
hold the town, yielded, at the last, the castles to the 
English, and the town to the Duke of Saxony, by 


266 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


composition. Which done, the Duke of Saxony and 
Sir Edward Poynings treated with them of Bruges, 
to submit themselves to Maximilian their lord; which 
after some time they did, paying, in some good part, 
the charge of the war, whereby the Almains and 
foreign succours were dismissed. The example of 
Bruges other of the revolted towns followed; so that 
Maximilian grew to be out of danger, but, as his 
manner was to handle matters, never out of necessity. 
And Sir Edward Poynings, after he had continued 
at Sluice some good while till all things were 
settled, returned unto the king, being then before 
Boloign. 

Somewhat about this time came letters from Fer- 
dinando and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain; 
signifying the final conquest of Granada from the 
Moors; which action, in itself so worthy, King Fer- 
dinando, whose manner was never to lose any virtue 
for the shewing, had expressed and displayed in his 
letters at large, with all the particularities and reli- 
gious punctos and ceremonies, that were observed in 
the reception of that city and kingdom: shewing, 
amongst other things, that the king would not by 
any means in person enter the city, until he had 
first aloof seen the cross set up upon the greater 
tower of Granada, whereby it became Christian 
ground. That likewise, before he would enter, he 
did homage to God above, pronouncing by an herald 
from the height of that tower, that he did acknow- 
ledge to have recovered that kingdom by the help of 
God Almighty, and the glorious Virgin, and the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 267 


virtuous Apostle Saint James, and the holy father 
Innocent the Eighth, together with the aids and ser- 
vices of his prelates, nobles, and commons. That 
yet he stirred not from his camp till he had seen a 
little army of martyrs, to the number of seven hun- 
dred and more Christians that had lived in bonds 
and servitude, as slaves to the Moors, pass before his 
eyes, singing a psalm for their redemption ; and that 
he had given tribute unto God, by alms and relief 
extended to them all for his admission into the city. 
These things were in the letters, with many more 
ceremonies of a kind of holy ostentation. 

The king, ever willing to put himself into the 
consort or quire of all religious actions, and naturally 
affecting much the King of Spain, as far as one king 
can affect another, partly for his virtues, and partly 
for a counterpoise to France; upon the receipt of 
these letters sent all his nobles and prelates that were 
about the court, together with the mayor and alder- 
men of London, in great solemnity to the church of 
Paul; there to hear a declaration from the Lord 
Chancellor, now Cardinal. When they were assem- 
bled, the cardinal standing upon the uppermost 
step or half-pace, before the quire, and all the 
nobles, prelates, and governors of the city at the 
foot of the stairs, made a speech to them; letting 
them know, that they were assembled in that. conse- 
crate place to sing unto God a new song. For that, 
said he, these many years the Christians have not 
gained new ground or territory upon the Infidels, 
nor enlarged and set further the bounds of the Chris- 

VOL. 3. Q 


268 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


tian world. But this is now done by the prowess 
and devotion of Ferdinando, and Isabella, kings of 
Spain; who have, to their immortal honour, recovered 
the great and rich kingdom of Granada, and the 
populous and mighty city of the same name, from 
the Moors, having been in possession thereof by the 
space of seven hundred years and more: for which 
this assembly and all Christians are to render laud 
and thanks unto God, and to celebrate this noble 
act of the King of Spain; who in this is not only 
victorious but apostolical, in the gaining of new pro- 
vinces to the Christian faith. And the rather, for 
that this victory and conquest is obtained without 
much effusion of blood. Whereby it is to be hoped 
that there shall be gained not only new territory, 
but infinite souls to the Church of Christ, whom the 
Almighty, as it seems, would have live to be con- 
verted. Herewithal he did relate some of the most 
memorable particulars of the war and victory. And 
after his speech ended, the whole assembly went so- 
lemnly in procession, and “ Te Deum” was sung. 
Immediately after the solemnity, the king kept 
his May-day at his palace of Sheen, now Richmond. 
Where, to warm the blood of his nobility and gal- 
lants against the war, he kept great triumphs of just- 
ing and tourney during all that month. In which 
space it so fell out, that Sir James Parker, and Hugh 
Vaughan, one of the king’s gentlemen ushers, having 
had a controversy touching certain arms that the 
king at arms had given Vaughan, were appointed to 
run some courses one against another. And by 


la 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 269 


accident of a faulty helmet that Parker had on, he 
was stricken into the mouth at the first course, so 
that his tongue was borne unto the hinder part of his 
head, in such sort that he died presently upon the 
place. Which, because of the controversy precedent, 
and the death that followed, was accounted amongst 
the vulgar as a combat or trial of right. The king 
towards the end of this summer, having put his 
forces, wherewith he meant to invade France, in 
readiness, but so as they were not yet met or mus- 
tered together, sent Urswick, now made his almoner, 
and Sir John Risley, to Maximilian, to let him know 
that he was in arms, ready to pass the seas into 
France, and did but expect to hear from him, when 
and where he did appoint to join with him, accord- 
ing to his promise made unto him by Countebalt, 
his ambassador. | 
The English ambassadors having repaired to 
Maximilian, did find his power and promise at a 
very great distance ; he being utterly unprovided of 
men, money, and arms, for any such enterprise. For 
Maximilian, having neither wing to fly on, for that 
his patrimony of Austria was not in his hands, his 
father being then living, and on the other side, his 
matrimonial territories of Flanders were partly in 
dowry to his mother-in-law, and partly not service- 
able, in respect of the late rebellions; was thereby 
destitute of means to enter into war. The am- 
bassadors saw this well, but wisely thought fit to 
advertise the king thereof, rather than to return 
themselves, till the king’s further pleasure were 
known: the rather, for that Maximilian himself 


tg tage ae 


ee 


270 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


spake as great as ever he did before, and entertained 
them with dilatory answers: so as the formal part 
of their ambassage might well warrant and require 
their further stay. The king hereupon, who doubted 
as much before, and saw through his business from 
the beginning, wrote back to the ambassadors, 
commending their discretion in not returning, and 
willing them to keep the state wherein they found 
Maximilian as a secret, till they heard further from 
him: and meanwhile went on with his voyage royal 
for France, suppressing for a time this advertisement 
touching Maximilian’s poverty and disability. 

By this time was drawn together a great and 
puissant army into the city of London; in which 
were Thomas, Marquis Dorset, Thomas, Earl of 
Arundell, Thomas, Earl of Derby, George, Earl of 
Shrewsbury, Edmund, Earl of Suffolk, Edward, 
Earl of Devonshire, George, Earl of Kent, the Earl 
of Essex, Thomas, Earl of Ormond, with a great 
number of barons, knights, and principal gentlemen; 
and amongst them Richard Thomas, much noted 
for the brave troops that he brought out of Wales. 
The army rising in the whole to the number of five 
and twenty thousand foot, and sixteen hundred 
horse; over which the king, constant in his ac- 
customed trust and employment, made Jasper, Duke 
of Bedford, and John, Earl of Oxford, generals 
under his own person. The ninth of September, in 
the eighth year of his reign, he departed from 
Greenwich towards the sea; all men wondering that 
he took that season, being so near winter, to begin 
the war; and some thereupon gathering, it was a 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 271 


sign that the war would not be long. Nevertheless 
the king gave out the contrary, thus: “ That he 
“ intending not to make a summer business of it, but 
“a resolute war, without term prefixed, until he had 
“recovered France; it skilled not much when he 
“began it, especially having Calais at his back, 
“ where he might winter, if the reason of the war 
“so required.” The sixth of October he embarked 
at Sandwich; and thesame day took land at Calais, 
which was the rendezvous, where all the forces were 
assigned to meet. But in this his journey towards 
the sea-side, wherein, for the cause that we shall now 
speak of, he hovered so much the longer, he had 
received letters from the Lord Cordes, who the 
hotter he was against the English in time of war, 
had the more credit in a negotiation of peace; and 
besides was held a man open and of good faith. In 
which letters there was made an overture of peace 
from the French king, with such conditions as were 
somewhat to the king’s taste; but this was carried 
at the first with wonderful secrecy. The king was 
no sooner come to Calais, but the calm winds of 
peace began to blow. For first, the English ambas- 
sadors returned out of Flanders from Maxamilian, 
and certified the king, that he was not to hope for 
any aid from Maximilian, for that he was altogether 
unprovided. His will was good, but he lacked 
money. And this was made known and spread 
through the army. And although the English were 
therewithal nothing dismayed, and that it be the 
manner of soldiers upon bad news to speak the more 


YE h- HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


bravely ; yet nevertheless it was a kind of prepara- 
tive to a peace. Instantly in the neck of this, as the 
king had laid it, came news that Ferdinando and 
Isabella, Kings of Spain, had concluded a peace with 
King Charles; and that Charles had restored unto 
them the counties of Russignon and Perpignan, 
which formerly were mortgaged by John, King of 
Arragon, Ferdinando’s father, unto France for three 
hundred thousand crowns: which debt was also 
upon this peace by Charles clearly released. This 
came also haudsomely to put on the peace; both be- 
cause so potent a confederate was fallen off, and 
because it was a fair example of a peace bought: so 
as the king should not be the sole merchant in this 
peace. Upon these airs of peace, the king was con- 
tent that the Bishop of Exeter, and the Lord 
D’Aubigny, governor of Calais, should give a meet- 
ing unto the Lord Cordes, for the treaty of a peace. 
But himself nevertheless and his army, the fifteenth 
of October, removed from Calais, and in four days 
march sat him down before Boloign. 

During this siege of Boloign, which continued 
near a month, there passed no memorable action, 
nor accident of war; only Sir John Savage, a valiant 
captain, was slain, riding about the walls of the 
town, to take a view. ‘The town was both well for- 
tified and well manned; yet it was distressed, and 
ready for an assault. Which, if it had been given, 
as was thought, would have cost much blood: but 
yet the town would have been carried in the end. 
Mean while a peace was concluded by the commis- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 273 


sioners, to continue for both’ the kings’ lives. Where 
there was no article of importance; being in effect 
rather a bargain than a treaty. For all things 
remained as they were, save that there should be 
paid to the king seven hundred forty-five thousand 
ducats in present, for his charges in that journey ; 
and five and twenty thousand crowns yearly, for his 
charges sustained in the aids of the Britons. For 
which annual, though he had Maximilian bound 
before for those charges, yet he counted the altera- 
tion of the hand as much as the principal debt. And 
besides, it was left somewhat indefinitely when it 
should determine or expire; which made the Eng- 
lish esteem it as a tribute carried under fair terms. 
And the truth is, it was paid both to the king and 
to his son King Henry the Eighth, longer than it 
could continue upon any computation of charges. 
There was also assigned by the French king, unto 
all the king’s principal counsellors, great pensions, 
besides rich gifts for the present. Which whether 
the king did permit, to save his own purse from 
rewards, or to communicate the envy of a business, 
that was displeasing to his people, was diversly in- 
terpreted. For certainly the king had no great 
fancy to own this peace. And therefore a little 
before it was concluded, he had under-hand procured 
some of his best captains and men of war to advise 
him to a peace, under their hands, in an earnest 
- manner, in the nature of a supplication. But the 
truth is, this peace was welcome to both kings. To 
Charles, for that it assured unto him the possession 


274, HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of Britain, and freed the enterprise of Naples. To 
Henry, for that it filled his coffers; and that he 
foresaw at that time a storm of inward troubles 
coming upon him, which presently after brake forth. 
But it gave no less discontent to the nobility and 
principal persons of the army, who had many ‘of 
them sold or engaged their estates upon the hopes 
of the war. They stuck not to say, “ That the king 
“cared not to plume his nobility and people, to 
‘‘ feather himself.” And some made _ themselves 
merry with that the king had said in parliament ; 
« That after the war was once begun, he doubted 
“ not but to make it pay itself;” saying, he had kept 
promise. 

Having risen from Be he went to Calais, 
where he stayed some time. From whence also he 
wrote letters, which was a courtesy that he some- 
times used, to the Mayor of London, and the 
aldermen his brethren; half bragging what great 
sums he had obtained for the peace ; knowing well 
that full coffers of the king is ever good news to 
London. And better news it would have been, if 
their, benevolence had been but a loan. And upon 
the seventeenth of December following he returned 
to Westminster, where he kept his Christmas. 

Soon after the king’s return, he sent the order of 
the garter to Alphonso, Duke of Calabria, eldest 
son to Ferdinando, King of Naples. An honour 
sought by that prince to hold him up in the eyes of 
the Italians; who expecting the arms of Charles, 
made great account of the amity of England for a 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 275 


bridle to France. It was received by Alphonso with 
all the ceremony and pomp that could be devised, as 
things use to be carried that are intended for 
opinion. It was sent by Urswick; upon whom the 
king bestowed this ambassage to help him after 
many dry employments. 

At this time the king began again to be haunted 
with spirits, by the magic and curious arts of the 
Lady Margaret ; who raised up the ghost of Richard, 
Duke of York, second son to King Edward the 
Fourth, to walk and vex the king. This was a 
finer counterfeit stone than Lambert Simnel ; better 
done, and worn upon greater hands; being graced 
after with the wearing of a King of France, and a 
King of Scotland, not of a Duchess of Burgundy only. 
And for Simnel, there was not much in him, more 
than that he was a handsome boy, and did not 
shame his robes. But this youth, of whom we are 
now to speak, was such a mercurial, as the like hath 
seldom been known; and could make his own part, 
if at any time he chanced to be out. Wherefore this 
being one of the strangest examples of a personation, 
that ever was in elder or later times; it deserveth to 
be discovered, and related at the full. Although the 
king’s manner of shewing things by pieces, and by 
dark lights, hath so muffled it, that it hath left it 
almost as a mystery to this day. 

The Lady Margaret, whom the king’s friends 
called Juno, because she was to him as Juno was to 
Aineas, stirring both heaven and hell to do him mis- 
chief, for a foundation of her particular practices 


276 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


against him, did continually, by all means possible, 
nourish, maintain, and divulge the flying opinion, 
that Richard, Duke of York, second son to Edward 
the Fourth, was not murdered in the Tower, as was 
given out, but saved alive. For that those that 
were employed in that barbarous fact, having 
destroyed the elder brother, were stricken with 
remorse arid compassion towards the younger, and 
set him privily at liberty to seek his fortune. This 
lure she cast abroad, thinking that this fame and 
belief, together with the fresh example of Lambert 
Simnel, would draw at one time or other some birds 
to strike upon it. She used likewise a further dili- 
gence, not committing all to chance: for she had 
some secret espials, like to the Turks’ commissioners 
for children of tribute, to look abroad for handsome 
and graceful youths, to make Plantagenets, and 
Dukes of York. At the last she did light on one, in 
whom all things met, as one would wish, to serve _ 
her turn for a counterfeit of Richard, Duke of York. 

This was Perkin Warbeck, whose adventures we 
shall now describe. For first, the years agreed well. 
Secondly, he was a youth of fine favour and shape. 
But more than that, he had such a crafty and be- 
witching fashion, both to move pity, and to induce 
belief, as was like a kind of fascination and enchant- 
ment to those that saw him or heard him. Thirdly, 
he had been from his childhood such a wanderer, or, 
as the king called him, such a land-loper, as it was 
extreme hard to ‘hunt out his nest and parents. 
Neither again could any man, by company or con- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 277 


versing with him, be able to say or detect well what 
he was, he did so flit from place to place. Lastly, 
there was a circumstance, which is mentioned by 
one that wrote in the same time, that is very likely 
to have made somewhat to the matter: which is, 
that King Edward the Fourth was his godfather. 
Which, as it is somewhat suspicious for a wanton 
. prince to become gossip in so mean a house, and 
might make a man think, that he might indeed have 
in him some base blood of the house of York; so at 
the least, though that were not, it might give the 
occasion to the boy, in being called King Edward’s 
godson, or perhaps in sport King Edward’s son, to 
entertain such thoughts into-his head. For tutor he 
had none, for ought that appears, as Lambert 
Simnel had, until he came unto the Lady Margaret, 
who instructed him. 

Thus therefore it came to pass: there was a 
townsman of Tournay, that had borne office in that 
town, whose name was John Osbeck, a convert Jew, 
married to Catherine de Faro, whose business drew 
him to live for a time with his wife at London in 
King Edward the Fourth’s days. During which 
time he had a son by her, and being known in 
court, the king either out of a religious nobleness, 
because he was a convert, or upon some private 
acquaintance, did him the honour to be godfather to 
his child, and named him Peter. But afterwards, 
proving a dainty and effeminate youth, he was com- 
monly called by the diminutive of his name, Peter- 
kin, or Perkin. For as for the name of Warbeck, it 


278 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


was given him when they did but guess at it, before 
examinations had been taken. But yet he had been 
so much talked on by that name, as it stuck by him 
after his true name of Osbeck was known. While he 
was a young child, his parents returned with him to 
Tournay. Then was he placed in a house of a kins- 
man of his, called John Stenbeck, at Antwerp, and 
so roved up and down between Antwerp and Tour- 
nay, and other towns of Flanders, for a good time; 
living much in English company, and having the 
English tongue perfect. In which time, being 
grown a comely youth, he was brought by some of 
the espials of the Lady Margaret into her presence. 
Who viewing him well, and seeing that he had a 
face and personage that would bear anoble fortune ; 
and finding him otherwise of a fine spirit and win- 
ning behaviour, thought she had now found a 
curious piece of marble to carve out an image of a 
Duke of York. She kept him by her a great while, 
but with extreme secrecy. The while she instructed 
him by many cabinet conferences. First, in princely 
behaviour and gesture; teaching him how he should 
keep state, and yet with a modest sense of his mis- 
fortunes. Then she informed him of all the circum- 
stances and particulars that concerned the person of 
Richard, Duke of York, which he was to act; 
describing unto him the personages, lineaments, and 
features of the king and queen his pretended 
parents; and of his brother, and sisters, and divers 
others, that were nearest him in his childhood; 
together with all passages, some secret, some 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. - 79 


common, that were fit for a child’s memory, until 
the death of King Edward. Then she added the 
particulars of the time from the king’s death, until 
he and his brother were committed to the Tower, as 
well during the time he was abroad, as while he was 
in sanctuary. As for the times while he was in the 
Tower, and the manner of his brother’s death, and 
his own escape; she knew they were things that a 
very few could controul.. And therefore she taught 
him only to tell a smooth and likely tale of those 
matters; warning him not to vary from it. It was 
agreed likewise between them, what account he 
should give of his peregrination abroad, intermixing 
many things which were true, and such as they knew 
others could testify, for the credit of the rest ; but 
still making them to hang together with the part he 
was to play. She taught him likewise how to avoid 
sundry captious and tempting questions, which were 
like to be asked of him. But in this she found him 
of himself so nimble and shifting, as she trusted 
much to his own wit and readiness; and therefore 
laboured the less in it. Lastly, she raised his 
thoughts with some present rewards, and further 
promises; setting before him chiefly the glory and 
fortune of a crown, if things went well, and a sure 
refuge to her court, if the worst should fall. After 
such time as she thought he was perfect in his 
lesson, she began to cast with herself from what 
coast this blazing star should first appear, and at 
what time it must be upon the horizon of Ireland ; 
for there had the like meteor strong influence before. 


280 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VH. 


The time of the apparition to be, when the king 
should be engaged into a war with France. But 
well she knew, that whatsoever should come from 
her would be held suspected. And therefore, if he 
should go out of Flanders immediately into Ireland, 
she might be thought to have some hand in it. And 
besides, the time was not yet ripe; for that the two 
kings were then upon terms of peace. Therefore 
she wheeled about ; and to put all suspicion afar off, 
and loth to keep him any longer by her, for that she 
knew secrets are not long-lived, she sent him un- 
known into Portugal with the Lady Brampton, an 
English lady, that embarked for Portugal at that 
time ; with some privado of her own, to have an eye 
upon him, and there he was to remain, and to expect 
her further directions. In the mean time she omitted 
not to prepare things for his better welcome and 
accepting, not only in the kingdom of Ireland, but 
in the court of France. He continued in Portugal 
about a year; and by that time the King of England 
called his parliament, as hath been said, and had de- 
clared open war against France. Now did the sign 
reign, and the constellation was come, under which 
Perkin should appear. And therefore he was straight 
sent unto by the duchess to go for Ireland, according 
to the first designment. In Ireland he did arrive at 
the town of Cork. When he was thither come, his 
own tale was, when he made his confession after- 
wards, that the Irishmen, finding him in some good 
clothes, came flocking about him, and bare him down 
that he was the Duke of Clarence that had been 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 281 


there before. And after, that he was Richard the 
Third’s base son, And lastly, that he was Richard, 
Duke of York, second son to Edward the Fourth. 
But that he, for his part, renounced all these things, 
and offered to swear upon the holy Evangelists, that 
he was no such man; till at last they forced it upon 
him, and bade him fear nothing, and so forth. But 
the truth is, that immediately upon his coming into 
Ireland, he took upon him the said person of the 
Duke of York, and drew unto him complices and 
partakers by all the means he could devise. _Inso- 
much as he wrote his letters unto the Earls of Des- 
mond and Kildare, to come in to his aid, and be of 
his party; the originals of which letters are yet 
extant. 

Somewhat before this time, the duchess had also 
‘gained under her a near servant of King Henry’s 
own, one Stephen Frion, his secretary for the French 
tongue: an active man, but turbulent and discon- 
tented. This Frion had fled over to Charles the 
French king, and put himself into his service, at such 
time as he began to be in open enmity with the king. 
Now King Charles, when he understood of the person 
and attempts of Perkin, ready of himself to embrace 
all advantages against the King of England, insti- 
gated by Frion, and formerly prepared by the Lady 
Margaret, forthwith dispatched one Lucas and this 
Frion, in the nature of ambassadors to Perkin, to 
advertise him of the king’s good inclination to him, 
and that he was resolved to aid him to recover his 
right against King Henry, an usurper of England, 


282 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


and an enemy of France; and wished him to come 
over unto him at Paris. Perkin thought himself 
in heaven now that he was invited by so great a king 
in so honourable a manner. And imparting unto his 
friends in Ireland for their encouragement, how for- 
tune called him, and what great hopes he had, sailed 
presently into France. When he was come to the 
court of France, the king received him with great 
homage; saluted, and styled him by the name 
of the Duke of York; lodged him in great 
state. And the better to give him the represen- 
tation and the countenance of a prince, assigned 
him a guard for his person, whereof the Lord Con- 
gresall was captain. The courtiers likewise, though 
it be ill mocking with the French, applied themselves 
to their king’s bent, seeing there was reason of state 
for it. At the same time there repaired unto Perkin 
divers Englishmen of quality; Sir George Neville; 
Sir John Taylor, and about one hundred more ; and 
amongst the rest, this Stephen Frion, of whom we 
spake, who followed his fortune both then and 
for a long time after, and was indeed his principal 
counsellor and instrument in all his proceedings. 
But all this on the French king’s part was but a 
trick, the better to bow King Henry to peace. And 
therefore upon the first grain of incense that was 
sacrificed upon the altar of peace at Boloign, Perkin 
was smoked away. Yet would not the French king 
deliver him up to King Henry, as he was laboured 
to do, for his honour’s sake, but warned him away 
and dismissed him. And Perkin on his part was as 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 283 


ready to be gone, doubting he might be caught up 
under-hand. He therefore took his way into Flan- 
ders, unto the Duchess of Burgundy; pretending 
that having been variously tossed by fortune, he di- 
rected his course thither as to a safe harbour: no ways 
taking knowledge that he had ever been there before, 
but as if that had been his first address. The duchess, 
on the other part, made it as new and strange to see 
him ; pretending, at the first, that she was taught 
and made wise by the example of Lambert Simnel, 
how she did admit of any counterfeit stuff; though 
even in that, she said she was not fully satisfied. 
She pretended at the first, and that was ever in the ~ 
presence of others, to pose him and sift him, thereby — 

to try whether he were indeed the very Duke of 
York or no. But seeming to receive full satisfac- 
tion by his answers, she then feigned herself to be 
transported with a kind of astonishment, mixt of joy 
and wonder, at his miraculous deliverance; receiving 
him as if he were risen from death to life: and in- 
ferring, that God, who had in such wonderful man- 
ner preserved him from death, did likewise reserve 
him for some great and prosperous fortune. As for 
his dismission out of France, they interpreted it not, 
as if he were detected or neglected for a counterfeit 
deceiver ;«but contrariwise, that it did shew mani- 
festly unto the world, that he was some great mat- 
ter; for that it was his abandoning that, in effect, 
made the peace; being no more but the sacrificing 
of a poor distressed prince unto the utility and am- 
bition of two mighty monarchs. Neither was Perkin, 

VOL. 3, R 


284 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


for his part, wanting to himself, either in gracious and 
princely behaviour, or in ready and apposite answers, 
or in contenting and caressing those that did apply 
themselves unto him, or in pretty scorn and disdain 
to those that seemed to doubt of him; but in all 
things did notably acquit himself: insomuch as it was 
generally believed, as well amongst great persons 
as amongst the vulgar, that he was indeed Duke 
Richard. Nay, himself, with long and continual 
counterfeiting, and with oft telling a lie, was turned 
by habit almost into the thing he seemed to be; and 
from a liar to a believer. The duchess therefore, as 
In a case out of doubt, did him all princely honour, 
calling him always by the name of her nephew, and 
giving him the delicate title of the white rose of 
England ; and appointed him a guard of thirty per- 
sons, halberdiers, clad in a party-coloured livery of 
murrey and blue, to attend his person. Her court 
likewise, and generally the Dutch and strangers, in 
their usage towards him, expressed no less respect. 
The news hereof came blazing and thundering 
over into England, that the Duke of York was sure 
alive. As for the name of Perkin Warbeck, it was 
not at that time come to light, but all the news ran 
upon the Duke of York; that he had been enter- 
tained in Ireland, bought and sold in France, and 
was now plainly avowed, and in great honour in 
Flanders. These fames took hold of divers ; in some 
upon discontent, in some upon ambition, in some 
upon levity and desire of change, and in some few upon 
conscience and belief, but in most upon simplicity ; 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 285 


and in divers out of dependence upon some of the 
better sort, who did in secret favour and nourish 


_. these bruits. And it was not long ere these rumours 


of novelty had begotten others of scandal and mur- 
mur against the king and his government, taxing 
him for a great taxer of his people, and discounte- 
nancer of his nobility. The loss of Britain, and the 
peace with France were not forgotten. But chiefly 
they fell upon the wrong that he did his queen, in 
that he did not reign in her right. Wherefore they 
said, that God had now brought to light a mascu- 
line branch of the house of York, that would not be 
at his courtesy, howsoever he did depress his poor 
lady. And yet, as it fareth in things which are 
current with the multitude, and which they affect, 
these fames grew so general, as the authors were lost 
in the generality of speakers. They being like 
running weeds that have no certain root; or like 
footings up and down impossible to be traced; but 
after a while these ill humours drew to an head, and 
settled secretly in some eminent persons; which were, 
Sir William Stanley, lord chamberlain of the king’s 
household, the Lord Fitzwater, Sir Simon Mount- 
fort, and Sir Thomas Thwaites. These entered 
into a secret conspiracy to favour Duke Richard’s 
title. Nevertheless none engaged their fortunes in 
this business openly but two: Sir Robert Clifford, 
and Master William Barley, who sailed over into 
Flanders, sent indeed from the party of the conspi- 
rators here, to understand the truth of those things 
that passed there, and not without some help of monies 


286 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


from hence ; provisionally to be delivered, if they 
found and were satisfied that there was truth in these 
pretences. ‘The person of Sir Robert Clifford, being 
a gentleman of fame and family, was extremely wel- 
come to the Lady Margaret. Who after she had 
conference with him, brought him to the sight of 
Perkin, with whom he had often speech and dis- 
course. So that in the end, won either by the duchess 
to affect, or by Perkin to believe, he wrote back into 
England, that he knew the person of Richard, Duke 
of York, as well as he knew his own, and that this 
young man was undoubtedly he. By this means all 
things grew prepared to revolt and sedition here, 
and the conspiracy came to have a correspondence 
between Flanders and England. 

The king on his part was not asleep ; but to arm 
or levy forces yet, he thought would but shew fear, 
and do this idol too much worship. Nevertheless 
the ports he did shut up, or at least kept a watch on 
them, that none should pass to or fro that was sus- 
pected: but for the rest, he chose to work by coun- 
termine. His purposes were two; the one to lay 
open the abuse, the other to break the knot of 
the conspirators. ‘To detect the abuse, there were 
but two ways; the first, to make it manifest to the 
world that the Duke of York was indeed murdered ; 
the other, to prove that were he dead or alive, 
yet Perkin was a counterfeit. For the first, thus it 
stood. There were but four persons that could 
speak upon knowledge to the murder of the Duke of 
York; Sir James Tirrel, the employed man from 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 287 


King Richard, John Dighton and Miles Forrest his 
servants, the two butchers or tormentors, and the 
priest of the Tower that buried them. Of which 
four, Miles Forrest and the priest were dead, and 
there remained alive only Sir James Tirrel and John 
Dighton. These two the king caused to be com- 
mitted to the Tower, and examined touching the 
manner of the death of the two innocent princes. 
They agreed both in a tale, as the king gave out to 
this effect: That King Richard having directed his 
warrant for the putting of them to death to Brack- 
enbury, the lieutenant of the Tower, was by him 
refused. Whereupon the king directed his warrant 
to Sir James Tirrel, to receive the keys of the Tower 


from the lieutenant, for the space of a night, for the 


king's special service. That Sir James Tirrel ac- 


cordingly repaired to the Tower by night, attended 
by his two servants afore-named, whom he had 
chosen for that purpose. That himself stood at the 
stair foot, and sent these two villains to execute the 
murder. ‘That they smothered them in their bed; 
and, that done, called up their master to see their 
naked dead bodies, which they had laid forth. That 
they were buried under the stairs, and some stones 
cast upon them. ‘That when the report was made 
to King Richard, that his will was done, he gave Sir 
James Tirrel great thanks, but took exception to 


the place of their burial, being too base for them that 


were king’s children. Whereupon, another night, 
by the king’s warrant renewed, their bodies were 
removed by the priest of the Tower, and buried by 


288 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


him in some place, which, by means of the priest’s 
death soon after, could not be known. Thus much 
_was then delivered abroad, to be the effect of those 
examinations; but the king, nevertheless, made no 
use of them in any of his declarations; whereby, as 
it seems, those examinations left the business some- 
what perplexed. And as for Sir James Tirrel, he 
was soon after beheaded in the Tower-yard for other 
matters of treason. But John Dighton, who, it 
seemeth, spake best for the king, was forthwith set 
at liberty, and was the principal means of divulging 
this tradition. Therefore this kind of proof being 
left so naked, the king used the more diligence in 
the latter, for the tracing of Perkin. To this pur- 
pose he sent abroad into several parts, and especially 
into Flanders, divers secret and nimble scouts and 
spies, some feigning themselves to fly over unto 
Perkin, and to adhere unto him; andsome under other 
pretences, to learn, search, and discover all the cir- 
cumstances and particulars of Perkin’s parents, birth, 
person, travels up and down; and in brief, to have a 
journal, as it were, of his life and doings. He fur- 
nished these his employed men liberally with money, » 
to draw on and reward intelligences; giving them 
also in charge, to advertise continually what they 
found, and nevertheless still to go on. And ever as 
one advertisement and discovery called up another, 
he employed other new men, where the business did 
require it. Others he employed in a more special 
nature and trust, to be his pioneers in the main 
countermine. These were directed to insinuate 


¥ 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 289 


themselves into the familiarity and confidence of the 
principal persons of the party in Flanders, and so to 
learn what associates they had, and correspondents, 
either here in England or abroad ; and how far every 
one engaged, and what new ones they meant after- 
wards to try or board. And as this for the persons, 
so for the actions themselves, to discover to the bot- 
tom, as they could, the utmost of Perkin’s and the 
conspirators, their intentions, hopes, and practices. 
These latter best-be-trust spies had some of them 
further instructions, to practise and draw off the best 
friends and servants of Perkin, by making remon- 
strance to them, how weakly his enterprise and 
hopes were built, and with how prudent and potent 
a king they had to deal; and to reconcile them to 
the king, with promise of pardon and good conditions 
of reward. And, above the rest, to assail, sap, and 
work into the constancy of Sir Robert Clifford ; and 
to win him, if they could, being the man that knew 
most of their secrets, and who being won away, 
would most appall and discourage the rest, and in a 
manner break the knot. 

There is a strange tradition; that the king being 
lost in a wood of suspicions, and not knowing whom 
to trust, had both intelligence with the confessors 
and chaplains of divers great men; and for the bet- 
ter credit of his espials abroad with the contrary side, 
did use to have them cursed at Paul’s, by name, 
amongst the bead-roll of the king’s enemies, accord- 
ing to the custom of those times. These espials 
plied their charge so roundly, as the king had an 


290 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


anatomy of Perkin alive; and was likewise well in- 
formed of the particular correspondent conspirators 
in England, and many other mysteries were revealed ; 
and Sir Kobert Clifford in especial won to be assured 
to the king, and industrious and officious for his ser- 
vice. The king therefore, receiving a rich return of 
his diligence, and great satisfaction touching a num- 
ber of particulars, first divulged and spread abroad 
the imposture and juggling of Perkin’s person and 
travels, with the circumstances thereof, throughout 
the realm ; not by proclamation, because things were 
yet in examination, and so might receive the more or 
the less, but by court-fames, which commonly print 
better than printed proclamations. Then thought 
he it also time to send an ambassage unto Archduke 
Philip into Flanders, for the abandoning and dis- 
missing of Perkin. Herein he employed Sir Edward 
Poynings, and Sir William Warham, doctor of the 
canon law. The archduke was then young, and 
governed by his council, before whom the ambassa- 
dors had audience; and Dr. Warham spake in this 
manner : 

“« My lords, the king our master is very sorry, 
“that England and your country here of Flanders, 
“‘ having been counted as man and wife for so long 
“ time ; now this country of all others should be the 
“ stage, where a base counterfeit should play the 
“ part of a King of England ; not only to his grace’s 
“ disquiet and dishonour, but to the scorn and re- 
“ proach of all sovereign princes. To counterfeit 
“‘ the dead image of a king in his coin is an high 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 291 


** offence by all laws, but to counterfeit the living 
“ image of a king in his person, exceedeth all falsifi- 
“ cations, except it should be that of a Mahomet, or 
* an Antichrist, that counterfeit divine honour. The 
‘“‘ king hath too great an opinion of this sage coun- 
“cil, to think that any of you is caught with this 
“fable, though way may be given by you to the 
“ passion of some, the thing in itself is so improba- 
“ble. ‘To set testimonies aside of the death of Duke 
“ Richard, which the king hath upon record, plain 
“ and infallible, because they may be thought to be 
“in the king’s own power, let the thing testify for 
“itself. Sense and reason no power can command. 
“ Is it possible, trow you, that King Richard should 
“damn his soul, and foul his name with so abomin- 
“ able a murder, and yet not mend his case ? Or do 
“ you think that men of blood, that were his instru- 
“ ments, did turn to pity in the midst of their exe- 
“ cution? Whereas in cruel and savage beasts, and 
“men also, the first draught of blood doth yet make 
“ them more fierce and enraged. Do you not know 
“ that the bloody executioners of tyrants do go to 
“ such errands with an halter about their neck; so 
“ that if they perform not they are sure to die for it? 
“And do you think that these men would hazard 
“their own lives for sparing another’s ? Admit they 

“should have saved him, what should they have 
“ done with him? Turn him into London streets, 
“ that the watchmen, or any passenger that should 
“ light upon him, might carry him before a justice, 
as “and so all come to light ? Or should they have kept 


292 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“him by them secretly? That surely would have 
“required a great deal of care, charge, and con- 
“tinual fears. But, my lords, I labour too much 
“in a clear business. The king is so wise, and 
“ hath so good friends abroad, as now he knoweth 
« Duke Perkin from his cradle. And because he is 
“ a great prince, if you have any good poet here, he 
“can help him with notes to write his life; and to 
* parallel him with Lambert Simnel, now the king’s 
“falconer. And therefore, to speak plainly to your 
“ lordships, it is the strangest thing in the world, 
“that the Lady Margaret, excuse us if we name 
“‘ her, whose malice to the king is both causeless and 
‘‘ endless, should now when she is old, at the time 
“ when other women give over child-bearing, bring 
“ forth two such monsters; being not the births of 
“nine or ten months, but of many years. And 
‘«‘ whereas other natural mothers bring forth children 
“ weak, and not able to help themselves; she bringeth 
“ forth tall striplings, able soon after their coming 
“ into the world to bid battle to mighty kings. My 
“lords, we stay unwillingly upon this part. We 
“ would to God, that lady would once taste the joys 
“ which God Almighty doth serve up unto her, in 
“ beholding her niece to reign in such honour, and 
“with so much royal issue, which she might be 
“ pleased to account asher own. The king’s request 
«‘ ynto the archduke, and your lordships, might be 
“that according to the example of King Charles, 
« who hath already discarded him, you would banish 
«this unworthy fellow out of your dominions. But 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 293 


“ because the king may justly expect more from an 
“ ancient confederate, than from a new reconciled 
“ enemy, he maketh his request unto you to deliver 
“him up into his hands: pirates and impostors of 
“this sort, being fit to be accounted the common 
“ enemies of mankind, and no ways to be protected 
“ by the law of nations. 

After some time of deliberation, the ambassadors 
received this short answer : 

“ That the archduke, for the love of King Henry, 
** would in no sort aid or assist the pretended duke, 
“ but in all things conserve the amity he had with 
“the king: but for the duchess dowager, she was 
“absolute in the lands of her dowry, and that he 
“ could not let her to dispose of her own.” 

The king, upon the return of the ambassadors, 
was nothing satisfied with this answer. For well he 
knew, that a patrimonial dowry carried no part of 
sovereignty or command of forces. Besides, the am- 
bassadors told him plainly, that they saw the duchess 
had a great party in the archduke’s council; and 
that howsoever it was carried in a course of conni- 
vance, yet the archduke underhand gave aid and 
furtherance to Perkin. Wherefore, partly out of 
courage, and partly out of policy, the king forthwith 
banished all Flemings, as well their persons as their 
wares, out of his kingdom; commanding his subjects 
likewise, and by name his merchants adventurers, 
which had a resiance in Antwerp, to return; trans- 
lating the mart, which commonly followed the Eng- 
lish cloth, unto Calais ; ped embarred also all further 


*® 


294 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


trade for the future. This the king did, being sen- 
sible in point of honour, not to suffer a pretender to 
the crown of England to affront him so near at hand, 
and he to keep terms of friendship with the country 
where he did set up. But he had also a further 
reach: for that he knew well, that the subjects of 
Flanders drew so great commodity from the trade of 
England, as by this embargo they would soon wax 
weary of Perkin; and that the tumults of Flanders 
had been so late and fresh, as it was no time for the 
prince to displease the people. Nevertheless for 
forms sake, by way of requital, the archduke did 
likewise banish the English out of Flanders , which 
in effect was done to his hand. 

The king being well advertised, that Perkin did 
more trust upon friends and partakers within the 
realm than upon foreign arms, thought it behoved 
him to apply the remedy where the disease lay; and 
to proceed with severity against some of the princi- 
pal conspirators here within the realm; thereby to 
purge the ill humours in England, and to cool the 
hopes in Flanders. Wherefore he caused to be ap- 
prehended, almost at an instant, John Ratcliffe 
Lord Fitzwater, Sir Simon Mountford, Sir Thomas 
Thwaites, William D’Aubigny, Robert Ratcliffe, 
Thomas Cressenor, and Thomas Astwood. All these 
were arraigned, convicted, and condemned for high 
treason, in adhering and promising aid to Perkin. 
Of these the Lord Fitzwater conveyed to Calais, 
and there kept in hold, and in hope of life, until soon 
after, either impatient or betrayed, he dealt with his 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIT. 295 


keeper to have escaped, and thereupon was beheaded. 
But Sir Simon Mountfort, Robert Ratcliffe, and 
William D’Aubigny, were beheaded immediately 
after their condemnation. The rest were pardoned, 
together with many others, clerks and laics, amongst 
which were two Dominican friars, and William 
Worseley, Dean of Paul’s, which latter sort passed 
examination, but came not to public trial. 

The Lord Chamberlain at that time was not 
touched ; whether it were that the king would not 
stir too many humours at once, but, after the man- 
ner of good physicians, purge the head last; or that 
Clifford, from whom most of these discoveries came, 
reserved that piece for his own coming over; signi- 
fying only to the king in the mean time, that he 
doubted there were some greater ones in the business, 
whereof he would give the king further account when 
he came to his presence. 

Upon Allhallows-day-even, being now the tenth 
year of the king’s reign, the king’s second son Henry 
was created Duke of York ; and as well the duke, as 
divers others, noblemen, knights-bachelors, and gen- 
tlemen of quality, were made knights of the Bath 
according to the ceremony. Upon the morrow after 
twelfth-day, the king removed from Westminster, 
where he had kept his Christmas, to the Tower of 
London. ‘This he did as soon as he had advertise- 
ment that Sir Robert Clifford, in whose bosom or 
budget most of Perkin’s secrets were laid up, was 
come into England. And the place of the Tower 
was chosen to that end, that if Clifford should accuse 


296 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


any of the great ones, they might, without suspicion — 
or noise, or sending abroad of warrants, be presently 
attached; the court and prison being within the 
cincture of one wall. After a day or two, the king 
drew unto him a selected council, and admitted 
Clifford to his presence; who first fell down at his 
feet, and in all humble manner craved the king's 
pardon; which the king then granted, though he 
were indeed secretly assured of his life before. Then 
commanded to tell his knowledge, he did amongst 
many others, of himself, not interrogated, appeach 
Sir William Stanley, the lord chamberlain of the 
king’s household. 

The king seemed to be much amazed at the 
naming of this lord, as if he had heard the news of 
some strange and fearful prodigy. ‘To hear a man 
that had done him service of so high a nature, as to 
save his life, and set the crown upon his head ; a man» 
that enjoyed, by his favour and advancement, so great 
a fortune both in honour and riches ; a man, that was 
tied unto him in so near a band of alliance, his bro- 
ther having married the king’s mother; and lastly, a 
man, to whom he had committed the trust of his 
person, in making him his chamberlain: that this 
man, no ways disgraced, no ways discontent, no ways 
put in fear, should be false unto him. Clifford was 
required to say over again and again the particulars 
of his accusation; being warned, that in a matter so 
unlikely, and that concerned so great a servant of 
the king’s, he should not in any wise go too far. 
But the king finding that he did sadly and constantly, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 297 


~ without hesitation or varying, and with those civil 
protestations that were fit, stand to that that he had 
said, offering to justify it upon his soul and life; he 
caused him to be removed. And after he had not 
a little bemoaned himself unto his council there pre- 
sent, gave order that Sir William Stanley should be 
restrained in his own chamber where he lay before, 
in the square tower: and the next day he was 
examined by the lords. Upon his examination he 
denied little of that wherewith he was charged, nor 
endeavoured much to excuse or extenuate his fault : 
so that, not very wisely, thinking to make his offence 
less by confession, he made it enough for condemna- 
tion. It was conceived, that he trusted much to his 
former merits, and the interest that his brother had 
in the king. But those helps were over-weighed by 
divers things that made against him, and were pre- 
dominant in the king’s nature and mind. ‘First, an 
over-merit : for convenient merit, unto which reward 
may easily reach, doth best with kings. Next the 
sense of his power; for the king thought, that he 
that could set him up, was the more dangerous to pull 
him down. Thirdly, the glimmering of a confisca- 
tion; for he was the richest subject for value in the 
kingdom ; there being found in his castle of Holt 
forty thousand marks in ready money and plate, 
besides jewels, household-stuff, stocks upon _ his 
grounds, and other personal estate, exceeding great. 
And for his revenue in land and fee, it was three 
thousand pounds a year of old rent, a great matter 
in those times. Lastly, the nature of the time; for 


298 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIL. 


if the king had been out of fear of his own estate, it 
was not unlike he would have spared his life. But 
the cloud of so great a rebellion hanging over his 
head, made him work sure. Wherefore after some 
six weeks distance of time, which the king did ho- 
nourably interpose, both to give space to his bro- 
ther’s intercession, and to shew to the world that he 
had a conflict with himself what he should do; he 
was arraigned of high treason, and condemned, and 
presently after beheaded. | 

Yet is it to this day left but in dark memory, 
both what the case of this noble person was, for which 
he suffered ; and what likewise was the ground and 
cause of his defection, and the alienation of his heart 
from the king. His case was said to be this: That 
in discourse between Sir Robert Clifford and him he 
had said, “ That if he were sure that that young man 
—“ were King Edward’s son, he would never bear 
“ arms against him.” ‘This case seems somewhat an 
hard case, both in respect of the conditional, and in 
respect of the other words. But for the conditional, 
it seemeth the judges of that time, who were learned 
men, and the three chief of them of the privy coun- 
cil, thought it was a dangerous thing to admit ifs 
and ands, to qualify words of treason; whereby 
every man might express his malice, and blanch his 
danger. And it was like to the case, in the follow- 
ing times, of Elizabeth Barton, the holy maid of 
Kent; who had said, “ That if King Henry the 
« Eighth did not take Catherine his wife again, he 
« should be deprived of his crown, and die the death 


_ HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 299 


“of adog.” And infinite cases may be put of like 
nature ; which, pgeemeth, the grave judges taking 
into consideration, would not admit of treasons upon 
condition. And as for the positive words, “ That 
“he would not bear arms against King Edward’s 
“son ;” though the words seem calm, yet it was a 
plain and direct over-ruling of the king's title, either 
by the line of Lancaster, or by act of parliament ; 
which, no doubt, pierced the king more, than if Stan- 
ley had charged his lance upon him in the field. For 
if Stanley would hold that opinion, that a son of 


King Edward had still the better right, he being so 


principal a person of authority and favour about the 
king, it was to teach all England to say as much. 
And therefore, as those times were, that speech 
touched the quick. But some writers do put this 
out of doubt; for they say, that Stanley did ex- 
pressly promise to aid Perkin, and sent him some 
help of treasure. 

Now for the motive of his falling off from the 
king; it is true, that at Bosworth-field the king was 
beset, and in a manner inclosed round about by the 
troops of King Richard, and in manifest danger of 
his life ; when this Stanley was sent by his brother, 
with three thousand men to his rescue, which he per- 
formed so, that King Richard was slain upon the 
place. So as the condition of mortal men is not 
capable of a greater benefit, than the king received 
by the hands of Stanley ; being like the benefit of 
Christ, at once to save and crown. For which ser- 
vice the king gave him great gifts, made him his 

VOL. 3, s 


* 


a 


300 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


counsellor and chamberlain : and, somewhat contrary 
to his nature, had winked at the great spoils of Bos- 
worth-field, which came almost wholly to this man’s 
hands, to his infinite enriching. Yet nevertheless, 
blown up with the conceit of his merit, he did not 
think he had received good measure from the king, 
at least not pressing down and running over, as he 
expected. And his ambition was so exorbitant and 
unbounded, as he became suitor to the king for the 
Earldom of Chester: which ever being a kind of 
appanage to the principality of Wales, and using to 
go to the king’s son, his suit did not only end in a 
denial but in a distaste : the king perceiving thereby, 
that his desires were intemperate, and his cogitations 
vast and irregular, and that his former benefits were 
but cheap, and lightly regarded by him. Where- 
fore the king began not to brook him well. And as 
a little leaven of new distaste doth commonly sour 
the whole lump of former merits, the king’s wit be- 
gan now to suggest unto his passion, that Stanley at 
Bosworth-field, though he came time enough to save 
his life, yet he stayed long enough to endanger it. 
But yet having no matter against him, he continued 
him in his places until this his fall. 

After him was made Lord Chamberlain, Giles 
Lord D’Aubigny, a man of great sufficiency and 
valour; the more because he was gentle and mo- 
derate. 

There was a common opinion, that Sir Robert 
‘Clifford, who now was become the state informer, 
was from the beginning an emissary and spy of the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 301 


king’s; and that he fled over into Flanders with his 
consent and privity. But this is not probable; both 
because he never recovered that degree of grace 
which he had with the king before his going over ; 
and chiefly, for that the discovery which he had 
made touching the Lord Chamberlain, which was his 
great service, grew not from any thing he learned 
abroad, for that he knew it well before he went. 
These executions, and especially that of the Lord 
Chamberlain’s, which was the chief strength of the 
party, and by means of Sir Robert Clifford, who was 
the most inward man of trust amongst them, did 
extremely quail the design of Perkin and his com- 
plices, as well through discouragement as distrust. 
So that they were now, like sand without lime, ill 
bound together ; especially as many as were English, 
who were at a gaze, looking strange one upon ano- 
ther, not knowing who was faithful to their side; but 
thinking that the king, what with his baits, and what 
with his nets, would draw them all unto him that 
were any thing worth. And indeed it came to pass, 
that divers came away by the thread, sometimes one 
and sometimes another. Barley, that was joint com- 
missioner with Clifford, did hold out one of the 
longest, till Perkin was far worn; yet made his 
peace at the length. But the fall of this great man, 
being in so high authority and favour, as was thought, 
with the king; and the manner of carriage of the 
business, as if there had been secret inquisition upon 
him for a great time before; and the cause for which 
he suffered, which was little more than for saying in 


302 --HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


effect that the title of York was better than the title 
of Lancaster; which was the case almost of every 
man, at the least in opinion, was matter of great 
terror amongst all the king’s servants and subjects ; 
insomuch as no man almost thought himself secure, 
and men durst scarce commune or talk one with 
another, but there was a general diffidence every 
where: which nevertheless made the king rather 
more absolute than more safe. For “ bleeding in- 
“ wards, and shut vapours, strangle soonest, and 
“‘ oppress most.” 

Hereupon presently came forth swarms and vol- 
lies of libels, which are the gusts of liberty of speech 
restrained, and the females of sedition, containing 
bitter invectives and slanders against the king and 
some of the council: for the contriving and dispers- 
ing whereof, after great diligence of inquiry, five 
mean persons weré caught up and executed. 

Mean while the king did not neglect Ireland, 
being the soil where these mushrooms and upstart 
weeds, that spring up in a night, did chiefly pros- 
per. He sent therefore from hence, for the better 
settling of his affairs there, commissioners of both 
robes, the Prior of Lanthony, to be his chancellor in 
that kingdom; and Sir Edward Poynings, with a 
power of men, and a martial commission, together 
with a civil power of his leutenant, with a clause, 
that the Earl of Kildare, then deputy, should obey 
him. But the wild Irish, who were the principal 
offenders, fled into the woods and bogs, after their 
manner ; and those that knew themselves guilty in 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 303 


the pale fled to them. So that Sir Edward Poyn- 
ings was enforced to make a wild chase upon the wild 
Irish; where, in respect of the mountains and fast- 
nesses, he did little good. Which, either out of a 
suspicious melancholy upon his bad success, or the 
better to save his service from disgrace, he would 
needs impute unto the comfort that the rebels should 
receive underhand from the Earl of Kildare ; every 
light suspicion growing upon the earl, in respect of 
the Kildare that was in the action of Lambert Sim- 
nel, and slain at Stokefield. Wherefore he caused 
the earl to be apprehended and sent into England ; 
where, upon examination, he cleared himself so well, 
as he was replaced in his government. But Poyn- 
ings’, the better to make compensation of the mea- 
gerness of his service in the wars by acts of peace, 
called a parliament; where was made that memora- 
ble act, which at this day is called Poynings’ law, 
whereby all the statutes of England were made to 
be of force in Ireland; for before they were not, 
neither are any now in force in Ireland, which were 
made in England since that time; which was the 
tenth year of the king. 

About this time began to be discovered in the 
king that disposition, which afterwards, nourished 
and whet on by bad counsellors and ministers, proved 
the blot of his times: which was the course he took 
to crush treasure out of his subjects’ purses, by for- 
feitures upon penal laws. At this men did startle 
the more at this time, because it appeared plainly to 
be in the king’s nature, and not out of his necessity, 


304 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


he being now in float for treasure: for that he had 
newly received the peace-money from France, the 
benevolence-money from his subjects, and great ca- 
sualties upon the confiscations of the Lord Cham- 
berlain and divers others. The first noted case of 
this kind was that of Sir William Capel, alderman 
of London; who, upon sundry penal laws, was con- 
demned in the sum of seven and twenty hundred 
pounds, and compounded with the king for sixteen 
hundred: and yet after, Empson would have cut 
another chop out of him if the king had not died in 
the instant. 

The summer following, the king, to comfort his 
mother, whom he did always tenderly love and revere, 
and to make open demonstration to the world,that the 
proceedings against Sir William Stanley, which was 
imposed upon him by necessity of state, had not in 
any degree diminished the affection he bare to 
Thomas his brother, went in progress to Latham, to 
make merry with his mother and the earl, and lay 
there divers days. 

During this progress, Perkin Warbeck finding 
that time and temporising, which, whilst his prac- 
tices were covert and wrought well in England, 
made for him; did now, when they were discovered 
and defeated, rather make against him, for that 
when matters once go down the hill, they stay not 
without a new force, resolved to try his adventure 
in some exploit upon England; hoping still upon the 
affections of the common people towards the house 


of York. Which body of common people he thought 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 305 


was not to be practised upon, as persons of quality 
are ; but that the only practice upon their affections 
was to set up a standard in the field. The place 
where he should make his attempt, he chose to be 
the coast of Kent. 

The king by this time was grown to such a 
height of reputation for cunning and policy, that 
every accident and event that went well, was laid 
and imputed to his foresight, as if he had set it be- 
fore: as in this particular of Perkin’s design upon 
Kent. For the world would not believe afterwards, 
but the king, having secret intelligence of Perkin’s 
intention for Kent, the better to draw it on, went of 
purpose into the north afar off, laying an open side 
unto Perkin, to make him come to the close, and so 
to trip up his heels, having made sure in Kent 
beforehand. 

But so it was, that Perkin had gathered together 
a power of all nations, neither in number, nor in the 
hardiness and courage of the persons, contemptible, 
but in their nature and fortunes to be feared, as well 
of friends as enemies; being bankrupts, and many of 
them felons, and such as lived by rapine. These he 
put to sea, and arrived upon the coast of Sandwich 
and Deal, in Kent, about July. 

There he cast anchor, and to prove the affections 
of the people, sent some of his men to land, making 
great boasts of the power that was to follow. The 
Kentish men, perceiving that Perkin was not fol- 
lowed by any English of name or account, and that 
his forces consisted but of strangers born, and most 


306 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of them base people and free-booters, fitter to spoil 
a coast than to recover a kingdom; resorting unto 
the principal gentlemen of the country, professed 
their loyalty to the king, and desired to be directed 
and commanded for the best of the king’s service. 
The gentlemen entering into consultation, directed 
some forces in good number to shew themselves — 
upon the coast; and some of them to make signs to 
entice Perkin’s soldiers to land, as if they would join 
with them; and some others to appear from some 
other places, and to make semblance as if they fled 
from them, the better to encourage them to land. 
But Perkin, who by playing the prince, or else 
taught by secretary Frion, had learned thus much, 
that people under command do use to consult, and 
after to march in order; and rebels contrariwise run 
upon an head together in confusion, considering the 
delay of time, and observing their orderly and not 
tumultuary arming, doubted the worst. And there- 
fore the wily youth would not set one foot out of his 
ship, till he might see things were sure. Wherefore 
the king’s forces, perceiving that they could draw on 
no more than those that were formerly landed, set 
upon them and cut them in pieces ere they could fly 
back to their ships. In which skirmish, besides — 
those that fled and were slain, there were taken 
about an hundred and fifty persons. Which, for 
that the king thought, that to punish a few for 
example was gentleman’s pay ; but forzascal people, 
they were to be cut off every man, especially in the 
beginning of an enterprize: and likewise for that he 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 307 


saw that Perkin’s forces would now consist chiefly of 
_ such rabble and scum of desperate people, he there- 
fore hanged them all for the greater terror. They 
were brought to London all railed in ropes, like a 
team of horses in a cart, and were executed some of 
them at London and Wapping, and the rest at divers 
places upon the sea-coast of Kent, Sussex, and Nor- 
folk, for sea-marks or light-houses, to teach Perkin’s 
people to avoid the coast. The king being adver- 
tised of the landing of the rebels, thought to leave 
his progress: but being certified the next day, that 
they were partly defeated, and partly fled, he con- 
tinued his progress, and sent Sir Richard Guildford 
into Kent in message; who calling the country to- 
gether, did much commend from the king their 
fidelity, manhood, and well handling of that service; 
and gave them all thanks, and, in private, promised 
reward to some particulars. 

Upon the sixteenth of November, this being the 
eleventh year of the king, was holden the serjeants’ 
feast at Ely-place, there being nine serjeants of that 
call. The king, to honour the feast, was present 
with his queen at the dinner; being a prince that 
was ever ready to grace and countenance the pro- 
fessors of the law; having a little of that, that as he 
governed his subjects by his laws, so he governed his 
laws by his lawyers. 

This year also the king entered into league with 
the Italian Potentates for the defence of Italy against 
France. For King Charles had conquered the 
realm of Naples, and lost it again, in a kind of 

felicity of a dream. He passed the whole length of 


308 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


Italy without resistance; so that it was true which 
Pope Alexander was wont to say, That the French- 
men came into Italy with chalk in their hands, to 
mark up their lodgings, rather than with swords to 
fight. He likewise entered and won, in effect, the 
whole kingdom of Naples itself, without striking 
stroke. But presently thereupon he did commit 
and multiply so many errors, as was too great a task 
for the best fortune to overcome. He gave no con- 
tentment to the Barons of Naples, of the faction of 
the Angeovines ; but scattered his rewards according 
to the mercenary appetites of some about him. He 
put all Italy upon their guard, by the seizing and 
holding of Ostia, and the protecting of the liberty of 
Pisa ; which made all men suspect, that his purposes 
looked farther than his title of Naples. He fell too 
soon at difference with Ludovico Sfortia, who was 
the man that carried the keys which brought him in 
and shut him out. He neglected to extinguish some 
relicks of the war. And lastly, in regard of his easy 
passage through Italy without resistance, he entered 
into an overmuch despising of the arms of the Italians; 
whereby he left the realm of Naples at his depar- 
ture so much the less provided. So that not long 
after his return, the whole kingdom revolted to Fer- 
dinando the younger, and the French were quite 
driven out. Nevertheless Charles did make both 
great threats and great preparations to re-enter 
Italy once again. Wherefore at the instance of 
divers of the states of Italy, and especially of Pope 
Alexander, there was a league concluded between 
the said Pope, Maximilian, King of the Romans, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 309 


Henry, King of England, Ferdinando and Isabella, 
King and Queen of Spain, for so they are constantly 
placed in the original treaty throughout, Augustino 
Barbadico, Duke of Venice, and Ludovico Sfortia, 
Duke of Milan, for the common defence of their 
estates : wherein though Ferdinando of Naples was 
not named as principal, yet, no doubt, the kingdom 
of Naples was tacitly included as a fee of the church. 

There died also this year, Cecile, Duchess of 
York, mother to King Edward the Fourth, at her 
castle of Berkhamstead, being of extreme years, and 
who had lived to see three princes of her body 
crowned, and four murdered. She was buried at 
Foderingham, by her husband. 

This year also the king called his parliament, 
where many laws were made of a more private 
and vulgar nature, than ought to detain the reader 
of an history. And it may be justly suspected by 
the proceedings following, that as the king did excel 
in good commonwealth laws, so nevertheless he had, 
in secret, a design to make use of them, as well for 
collecting of treasure as for correcting of manners ; 
and so meaning thereby to harrow his people, did 
- accumulate them the rather. 

The principal law that was made this parliament, 
was a law of a strange nature; rather just than legal; 
and more magnanimous than provident. This law 
did ordain, That no person that did assist in arms, 
or otherwise, the king for the time being, should 
after be impeached therefore, or attainted, either by 
the course of the law, or by act of parliament. But 
if any such act of attainder did happen to be made, 


310 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


it should be void and of none effect ; for that it was 
agreeable to reason of estate, that the subject should 
notinquire of the justness of the king’s title or quarrel; 
and it was agreeable to good conscience, that, what- 
soever the fortune of the war were, the subject should 
not suffer for his obedience. The spirit of this law was 
wonderful pious and noble, being like, in matter of 
war, unto the spirit of David in matter of plague ; 
who said, “ If I have sinned strike me: but what 
“have these sheep done?” Neither wanted this law 
parts of prudent and deep foresight; for it did the 
better take away occasion for the people to busy 
themselves to pry into the king’s title ; for that how- 
soever it fell, their safety was already provided for. 
Besides, it could not but greatly draw unto him the 
love and hearts of the people, because he seemed 
more careful for them than for himself. But yet 
nevertheless it did take off from his party that great 
tie and spur of necessity, to fight and go victors out 
of the field ; considering their lives and fortunes were 
put in safety and protected, whether they stood to it 
or ran away. But the force and obligation of this 
law was in itself illusory, as to the latter part of it, 
by a precedent act of parliament to bind or frustrate 
a future. For asupreme and absolute power can- 
not conclude itself, neither can that which is in na- 
ture revocable be made fixed, no more than if a 
man should appoint or declare by his will, that if he 
made any latter will it should be void. And for the 
case of the act of parliament, there is a notable pre- 
cedent of it in King Henry the Eighth’s time ; who 
doubting he might die in the minority of his son, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 311 


procured an act to pass, That no statute made during 
the minority of a king, should bind him or his suc- 
cessors, except it were confirmed by the king under 
his great seal at his full age. But the first act that 
passed in King Edward the Sixth’s time, was an act 
of repeal of that former act; at which time never- 
theless the king was minor. But things that do not 
bind, may satisfy for the time. | 

There was also made a shoaring or under- 
propping act for the benevolence: to make the sums 
which any person had agreed to pay, and neverthe- 
less were not brought in, to be leviable by course of 
law. Which act did not only bring in the arrears, 
but did indeed countenance the whole business, and 
was pretended to be made at the desire of those that 
had been forward to pay. 

This parliament also was made that good law, 
which gave the attaint upon a false verdict between 
party and party, which before was a kind of evangile, 
irremediable. It extends not to causes capital, as 
well because they are for the most part at the king’s 
suit, as because in them, if they be followed in 
course of indictment, there passeth a double jury, 
the indictors and the triers ; and so not twelve men, 
but four and twenty. But it seemeth that was not the 
only reason ; for this reason holdeth not in the appeal. 
But the great reason was, lest it should tend to the 
discouragement of jurors in cases of life and death; 
if they should be subject to suit and penalty, where 
the favour of life maketh against them. It extendeth 
not also to any suit, where the demand is under the 
value of forty pounds ; for that in such cases of petty 


312 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


value it would not quit the charge, to go about 
again. | 

There was another law made against a branch 
of ingratitude in women, who having been advanced 
by their husbands, or their husbands’ ancestors, 
should alien, and thereby seek to defeat the heirs, or 
those in remainder, of the lands whereunto they had 
been so advanced. ‘The remedy was, by giving 
power to the next, to enter for a forfeiture. 

There was also enacted that charitable law, for the 
admission of poor suitors in forma pauperis, without 
fee to counsellor, attorney, or clerk, whereby poor men 
became rather able to vex than unable to sue. ‘There 
were divers other good laws made that parliament, as 
we said before; but we still observe our manner, in se- 
lecting out those, that are not of a vulgar nature. 

The king this while, though he sat in parliament, 
as in full peace, and seemed to account of the de- 
signs of Perkin, who was now returned into Flanders, 
but as a May-game; yet having the composition of 
a wise king, stout without, and apprehensive within, 
had given order for the watching of beacons upon 
the coasts, and erecting more where they stood too 
thin, and had a careful eye where this wandering 
cloud would break. But Perkin, advised to keep his 
fire, which hitherto burned as it were upon green 
wood, alive with continual blowing, sailed again 
into Ireland, whence he had formerly departed, 
rather upon the hopes of France, than upon any un- 
readiness or discouragement he found in that people. 
But in the space of time between, the king’s dili- 
gence and Poynings’ commission had so settled things 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 313 


there, as there was nothing left for Perkin, but the 
blustering affection of wild and naked people. 
Wherefore he was advised by his council to seek aid 
of the King of Scotland, a prince young and valorous, 
and in good terms with his nobles and people, and ill 
affected to King Henry. At this time also both 
Maximilian and Charles of France began to bear no 
good will to the king: the one being displeased with 
the king’s prohibition of commerce with Flanders ; 
the other holding the king for suspect, in regard of 
his late entry into league with the Italians. Where- 
fore, besides the open aids of the Duchess of Bur- 
gundy, which did with sails and oars put on and 
advance Perkin’s designs, there wanted not some 
_ secret tides from Maximilian and Charles, which did 
further his fortunes: insomuch as they, both by their 
secret letters and messages, recommended him to the 
King of Scotland. 

Perkin therefore coming into Scotland upon those 
hopes, with a well-appointed company, was by the 
King of Scots, being formerly well prepared, honour- 
ably welcomed, and soon after his arrival admitted 
to his presence, in a solemn manner: for the king 
received him in state in his chamber of presence, 
accompanied with divers of his nobles. And Perkin 
well attended, as wel! with those that the king had 
sent before him, as with his own train, entered the 
room where the king was, and coming near to the 
king, and bowing a little to embrace him, he retired 
some paces back, and with a loud voice, that all that 


were present might hear him, made his declaration 
in this manner : 


314 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ High and mighty king, your grace, and these 
“ your nobles here present, may be pleased benignly 
“ to bow your ears, to hear the tragedy of a young 
“man, that by right ought to hold in his hand the 
*< ball of a kingdom ; but by fortune is made himself 
“a ball, tossed from misery to misery, and from 
“ place to place. You see here before you the spec- 
“ tacle of a Plantagenet, who hath been carried from 
“ the nursery to the sanctuary ; from the sanctuary 
“ to the direful prison ; from the prison to the hand of 
“ the crueltormentor; and from that hand to the wide 
« wilderness, as I may truly call it, for so the world 
“hath been tome. So that he that is born to a great 
“ kingdom, hath not ground to set his foot upon, 
“ more than this where he now standeth by your 
“ princely favour. Edward the Fourth, late King of 
“of England, as your grace cannot but have heard, 
‘“‘ left two sons, Edward, and Richard, Duke of York, 
“both very young. Edward the eldest succeeded 
‘their father in the crown, by the name of King 
“ Edward the Fifth: but Richard, Duke of Glouces- 
“ ter, their unnatural uncle, first thirsting after the 
“ kingdom through ambition, and afterwards thirst- 
“ ing for their blood, out of desire to secure himself, 
‘“ employed an instrument of his, confident to him, as 
“he thought, to murder them both. But this man 
«that was employed to execute that execrable tra- 
“ oedy, having cruelly slain King Edward, the eldest 
“of the two, was moved partly by remorse, and 
“ partly by some other mean, to save Richard his 
“ brother; making a report nevertheless to the 
«tyrant, that he had performed his commandment 


“A 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 315 


** for both brethren. This report was accordingly 
“ believed, and published generally; so that the 
“ world hath been possessed of an opinion, that they 
“ both were barbarously made away; though ever 
truth hath some sparks that fly abroad, until it ap- 
pear in due time, as this hath had. But Almighty 
“ God, that stopped the mouth of the lion, and saved 
“little Joash from the tyranny of Athaliah, when 
“ she massacred the king’s children; and did save 
* Tsaac, when the hand was stretched forth to sacri- 
“fice him; preserved the second brother. For I 
“ myself, that stand here in your presence, am that 
“very Richard, Duke of York, brother of that un- 
“ fortunate prince, King Edward the Fifth, now the 
“ most rightful surviving heir male to that victorious 
“and most noble Edward, of that name the fourth, 
“Jate King of England. For the manner of my 
“ escape, it is fit it should pass in silence, or at least 
“in a more secret relation; for that it may concern 
“ some alive, and the memory of some that are dead. 
“ Let it suffice to think, that I had then a mother 
“ living, a queen, and one that expected daily such 
“a commandment from the tyrant, for the murder- 
“ing of her children. Thus in my tender age 
“escaping by God’s mercy out of London, I was 
“secretly conveyed over sea; where after a time 
“the party that had me in charge, upon what 
“new fears, change of mind, or practice, God 
“knoweth, suddenly forsook me. Whereby I was 
“ forced to wander abroad, and to seek mean condi- 
“tions for the sustaining of my life. Wherefore 
VOL. 3, T 


316 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


distracted between several passions, the one of fear 
“ to be known, lest the tyrant should have a new 
“ attempt upon me; the other of grief and disdain 
“ to be unknown, and to live in that base and servile 
«“ manner that I did; I resolved with myself to ex- 
“pect the tyrant’s death, and then to put myself 
“into my sister’s hands, who was next heir to the 
“crown. But in this season it happened one Henry 
« Tudor, son to Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond, 
“ to come from France and enter into the realm, and 
“ by subtile and foul means to obtain the crown of 
“ the same, which to me rightfully appertained : so 
‘that it was but a change from tyrant to tyrant. 
“ This Henry, my extreme and mortal enemy, so 
“soon as he had knowledge of my being alive, 
“imagined and wrought all the subtile ways and 
“ means he could to procure my final destruction ; 
“ for my mortal enemy hath not only falsely sur- 
“mised me to be a feigned person, giving me nick- 
“ names, so abusing the world; but also, to defer 
« and put me from entry into England, hath offered 
“large sums of money to corrupt the princes and 
« their ministers, with whom I have been retained ; 
« and made importune labours to certain servants 
“about my person, to murder or poison me, and 
“« others to forsake and leave my righteous quarrel, 
“and to depart from my service, as Sir Robert 
“ Clifford, and others. So that every man of reason 
“may well perceive, that Henry, calling himself 
« King of England, needed not to have bestowed 
« such great sums of treasure, nor so to have busied 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 317 


“ himself with importune and incessant labour and 
* industry, to compass my death and ruin, if I had 
“ been such a feigned person. But the truth of my 
“* cause being so manifest, moved the most Christian 
“ King Charles, and the lady Duchess Dowager of 
“ Burgundy, my most dear aunt, not only to ac- 
“ knowledge the truth thereof, but lovingly to assist 
“me. But it seemeth that God above, for the good 
“ of this whole island, and the knitting of these two 
“kingdoms of England and Scotland in a strait 
“concord and amity, by so great an obligation, 
“hath reserved the placing of me in the imperial 
“throne of England for the arms and _succours 
“of your grace. Neither is it the first time that a 
“ King of Scotland hath supported them that were 
“ bereft and spoiled of the kingdom of England, as 
“ of late, in fresh memory, it was done in the person 
“ of Henry the Sixth. Wherefore, for that your grace 
“hath given clear signs, that you are in no noble 
** quality inferior to your royal ancestors, I, so dis- 
“* tressed a prince, was hereby moved to come and 
“ put myself into your royal hands, desiring your 
“ assistance to recover my kingdom of England; 
“ promising faithfully to bear myself towards your 
“ grace no otherwise, than if I were your own na- 
“ tural brother ; and will, upon the recovery of mine 
“ inheritance, gratefully do you all the pleasure that 
“is in my utmost power.” 

After Perkin had told his tale, King James an- 
swered bravely and wisely; “ That whatsoever he 
“were, he should not repent him of putting him- 


318 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“self into his hands.” And from that time forth, 
though there wanted not some about him, that 
would have persuaded him that all was but an illu- 
sion; yet notwithstanding, either taken by Perkin’s 
amiable and alluring behaviour, or inclining to the 
recommendation of the great princes abroad, or 
willing to take an occasion of a war against King 
Henry, he entertained him in all things, as became 
the person of Richard, Duke of York; embraced his 
quarrel; and, the more to put it out of doubt, that 
he took him to be a great prince, and not a repre- 
sentation only, he gave consent that this duke should 
take to wife the Lady Catharine Gordon, daughter 
to the Earl of Huntley, being a near kinswoman to 
the king himself, and a young virgin of excellent 
beauty and virtue. 

Not long after, the King of Scots in person, with 
Perkin in his company, entered with a great army, 
though it consisted chiefly of borderers, being raised 
somewhat suddenly, into Northumberland. And 
Perkin, for a perfume before him as he went, caused 
to be published a proclamation* of this tenor fol- 
lowing, in the name of Richard, Duke of York, true 
inheritor of the crown of England : 

“Tt hath pleased God, who putteth down the 
“ mighty from their seat, and exalteth the humble, 
“ and suffereth not the hopes of the just to perish 


* The original of this proclamation remaineth with Sir Robert 
Cotton, a worthy preserver and treasurer of rare antiquities: from 
whose manuscripts I have had much light for the furnishing of 
this work. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 319 


“ in the end, to give us means at the length to show 
“ ourselves armed unto our lieges and people of 
“ England. But far be it from us to intend their 
“ hurt or damage, or to make war upon them, other- 
“ wise than to deliver ourself and them from tyranny 
“ and oppression. For our mortal enemy Henry 
“ Tudor, a false usurper of the crown of England | 
*“‘ which to us by natural and lineal right appertain- 
“ eth, knowing in his own heart our undoubted right, 
‘* we being the very Richard, Duke of York, younger 
“ son, and now surviving heir male of the noble and 
“ victorious Edward the Fourth, late King of Eng- 
* Jand, hath not only deprived us of our kingdom, 
“ but likewise, by all foul and wicked means, sought 
“ to betray us, and bereave us of our life. Yet if 
“his tyranny only extended itself to our person, 
‘‘ although our royal blood teacheth us to be sensi- 
“« ble of injuries, it should be less to our grief. But 
“this Tudor, who boasteth himself to have over- 
“ thrown a tyrant, hath, ever since his first entrance 
“into his usurped reign, put little in practice, but 
“ tyranny and the feats thereof. 

“ For King Richard, our unnatural uncle, although 
“ desire of rule did blind him, yet in his other actions, 
“ like a true Plantagenet, was noble, and Joved the 
*‘ honour of the realm, and the contentment and 
“comfort of his nobles and people. But this our 
“mortal enemy, agreeable to the meanness of his 
“birth, hath trodden under foot the honour of 
“this nation: selling our best confederates for 
“money, and making merchandize of the blood, 
“estates, and fortunes of our peers and subjects, 


320 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


‘ by feigned wars and dishonourable peace, only to 
“enrich his coffers. Nor unlike hath been his 
“hateful misgovernment and evil deportments at 
“home. First, he hath, to fortify his false quarrel, 
“ caused divers nobles of this our realm, whom he 
“held suspect and stood in dread of, to be cruelly 
“ murdered; as our cousin Sir William Stanley, 
“ lord chamberlain, Sir Simon Mountford, Sir Ro- 
“ bert Ratcliffe, William D’Aubigny, Humphrey 
“ Stafford, and many others, besides such as have 
“dearly bought their lives with intolerable ran- 
“soms: some of which nobles are now in the 
“sanctuary. Also he hath long kept, and yet 
“keepeth in prison, our right entirely well- 
“beloved cousin, Edward, son and heir to our 
“ uncle Duke of Clarence, and others; withholding 
“ from them their rightful inheritance, to the intent 
“ they should never be of might and power, to aid 
“ and assist us at our need, after the duty of their 
“ legiances. He also married by compulsion, cer- 
“tain of our sisters, and also the sister of our said 
“ cousin the Earl of Warwick, and divers other ladies 
“ of the royal blood, unto certain of his kinsmen and 
“friends of simple and low degree; and, putting 
“apart all well disposed nobles, he hath none in 
“favour and trust about his person, but Bishop 
“ Fox, Smith, Bray, Lovel, Oliver King, David 
«“ Owen, Risely, Turbervile, Tiler, Chomley, Emp- 
** son, James Hobart, John Cut, Garth, Henry Wyat, 
‘‘ and such other caitiffs and villains of birth, which 
‘by subtile inventions, and pilling of the people, 
“have been the principal finders, occasioners, and 


© 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 321 


“ counsellors of the misrule and mischief now reign- 
“ ing in England. 

“ We remembering these premises, with the 
“ great and execrable offences daily committed and 
“done by our foresaid great enemy and his adhe- 
“ rents, in breaking the liberties and franchises of 
our mother the holy church, upon pretences of 
“ wicked and heathenish policy, to the high displea- 
“ sure of Almighty God, besides the manifold trea- 
“sons, abominable murders, manslaughters, rob- 
“« beries, extortions, the daily pilling of the people by 
** dismes, taxes, tallages, benevolences, and other 
‘“‘ unlawful impositions, and grievous exactions, with 
“* many other heinous effects, to the likely destruc- 
“ tion and desolation of the whole realm; shall by 
*‘ God’s grace, and the help and assistance of the 
“ great lords of our blood, with the counsel of other 
“ sad persons, see that the commodities of our realm 
“be employed to the most advantage of the same ; 
“ the intercourse of merchandise betwixt realm and 
“yealm to be ministered and handled as shall | 
“more be to the common weal and prosperity of 
“ our subjects; and all such dismes, taxes, tallages, 
“ benevolences, unlawful impositions, and grievous 
“ exactions, as be above rehearsed, to be foredone 
“and laid apart, and never from henceforth to be 
called upon, but in such cases as our noble proge- 
“ nitors, Kings of England, have of old time been 
“accustomed to have the aid, succour, and help of 
“ their subjects, and true liege-men. 

“ And further, we do, out of our grace and cle- 


ae HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“ mency, hereby as well publish and promise to all 
“our subjects remission and free pardon of all by- 
‘“‘ past offences whatsoever, against our person or 
“‘ estate, in adhering to our said enemy, by whom, 
‘‘ we know well, they have been misled, if they shall 
“ within time convenient submit themselves unto us. 
‘And for such as shall come with the foremost to 
“ assist our righteous quarrel, we shall make them 
so far partakers of our princely favour and bounty, 
“as shall be highly for the comfort of them and 
“ theirs, both during their life and after their death: 
“ as also we shall, by all means which God shall put 
“into our hands, demean ourselves to give royal 
“ contentment to all degrees and estates of our 
“ people, maintaining the liberties of holy church 
‘in their entire, preserving the honours, privileges, 
“and pre-eminences of our nobles, from contempt or 
“ disparagement according to the dignity of their 
“blood. We shall also unyoke our people from all 
“ heavy burdens and endurances, and confirm our 
“ cities, boroughs and towns, in their charters and 
“ freedoms, with enlargement where it shall be de- 
“ served ; and in all points give our subjects cause to 
“think, that the blessed and debonair government 
“ of our noble father King Edward, in his last times, 
is in us revived. 

“ And forasmuch as the putting to death, or 
“ taking alive of our said mortal enemy, may be a 
“mean to stay much effusion of blood, which other- 
“‘ wise may ensue, if by compulsion or fair promises 
** he shall draw after him any number of our sub- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 323 


* jects to resist us, which we desire toavoid, though we 
“ be certainly informed, that our said enemy is pur- 
“ posed and prepared to fly the land, having already 
“made over great masses of the treasure of our 
“crown, the better to support him in foreign parts, 
“we do hereby declare, that whosoever shall take 
“ or distress our said enemy, though the party. be of 
“never so mean a condition, he shall be by us re- 
“warded with a thousand pound in money, forth- 
“with to be laid down to him, and an hundred 
“ marks by the year of inheritance; besides that he 
“ may otherwise merit, both toward God and all 
‘* good people, for the destruction of such a tyrant. 

“ Lastly, we do all men to wit, and herein we 
“ take also God to witness, that whereas God hath 
“ moved the heart of our dearest cousin, the King 
“ of Scotland, to aid us in person in this our righte- 
“ous quarrel; it is altogether without any pact or 
“promise, or so much as demand of any thing that 
“‘ may prejudice our crown or subjects: but contra- 
“ riwise, with promise on our said cousin’s part, that 
“ whensoever he shall find us in sufficient strength 
“to get the upper hand of our enemy, which we 
“hope will be very suddenly, he will forthwith 
“ peaceably return into his own kingdom; content- 
“ing himself only with the glory of so honourable 
“an enterprise, and our true and faithful love and 
“amity; which we shall ever, by the grace of 
“ Almighty God, so order, as shall be to the great 
“ comfort of both kingdoms.” — 

But Perkin’s proclamation did little edify with 


324 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


the people of England; neither was he the better 
welcome for the company he came in. Wherefore 
the King of Scotland seeing none came in to Perkin, 
nor none stirred any where in his favour, turned his 
enterprise into arode ; and wasted and destroyed the 
country of Northumberland with fire and sword. 
But hearing that there were forces coming against 
him, and not willing that they should find his men 
heavy and laden with booty, he returned into Scot- 
land, with great spoils, deferring further prosecution 
till another time. It is said, that Perkin, acting the 
part of a prince handsomely, when he saw the Scottish 
fell to waste the country, came to the king in a pas- 
sionate manner, making great lamentation, and de- 
sired, that that might not be the manner of making 
the war; for that no crown was so dear to-his mind 
as that he desired to purchase it with the blood and 
ruin of his country. Whereunto the king answered 
half in sport, that he doubted much, he was careful 
for that that was none of his, and that he should be 
too good a steward for his enemy, to save the coun- 
try to his use. 

By this time, being the eleventh year of the king, 
the interruption of trade between the English and 
the Flemish began to pinch the merchants of both 
nations very sore; which moved them by all means 
they could devise, to affect and dispose their sove- 
reigns respectively, to open the intercourse again ; 
wherein time favoured them. For the archduke and 
his council began to see, that Perkin would prove 
but a runagate and a citizen of the world: and that 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 325 


it was the part of children to fall out about babies. 
And the king on his part, after the attempts upon 
Kent and Northumberland, began to have the busi- 
ness of Perkin in less estimation ; so as he did not 
put it to account in any consultation of state. But 
that that moved him most was, that being a king that 
loved wealth and treasure, he could not endure to 
have trade sick, nor any obstruction to continue in 
the gate-vein which disperseth that blood. And yet 
he kept state so far, as first to be sought unto. 
Wherein the merchant-adventurers likewise, being 
a strong company at that time, and well under-set 
with rich men, and good order, did hold out bravely ; 
taking off the commodities of the kingdom, though 
they lay dead upon their hands for want of vent. 
At the last, commissioners met at London to treat: 
on the King’s part, Bishop Fox, lord privy seal, 
Viscount Wells, Kendal, prior of Saint John’s, 
Warham, master of the rolls, who began to gain 
much upon the king’s opinion; Urswick, who was 
almost ever one; and Risely: on the archduke’s 
part, the Lord Bevers, his admiral; the Lord Ve- 
runsel, president of Flanders, and others. These 
concluded a perfect treaty, both of amity and inter- 
course, between the king and the archduke; con- 
taining articles both of state, commerce, and free 
fishing. ‘This is that treaty which the Flemings call 
at this day “ intercursus magnus ;” both because it 
is more complete than the precedent treaties of the 
third and fourth year of the king; and chiefly to give 
it a difference from the treaty that followed in the 


326 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


one and twentieth year of the king, which they call 
“ intercursus malus.” In this treaty, there was 
express article against the reception of the rebels of 
either prince by other; purporting, That if any 
such rebel should be required, by the prince whose 
rebel he was, of the prince confederate, that forth- 
with the prince confederate should by proclamation 
command him to avoid the country : which if he did 
not within fifteen days, the rebel was to stand pro- 
scribed, and put out of protection. But nevertheless 
in this article Perkin was not named, neither perhaps 
contained, because he was no rebel. But by this 
means his wings were clipt of his followers that were 
English. And it was expressly comprised in the 
treaty, that it should extend to the territories of the 
duchess dowager. After the intercourse thus re- 
stored, the English merchants came again to their 
mansion at Antwerp, where they were received with 
procession and great joy. 

The winter following, being the twelfth year of 
his reign, the king called again his parliament ; 
where he did much exaggerate both the malice and 
the cruel predatory war lately made by the King of 
Scotland: That the king, being in amity with him, 
and no ways provoked, should so burn in hatred 
towards him, as to drink of the lees and dregs of 
Perkin’s intoxication, who was every where else de- 
tected and discarded : and that when he perceived it 
was out of his reach to do the king any hurt, he had 
turned his arms upon unarmed and unprovided 
people, to spoil only and depopulate, contrary to the 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 327 


laws both of war and peace: concluding, that he 
could neither with honour, nor with the safety of his 
people, to whom he did owe protection, let pass 
these wrongs unrevenged. ‘The parliament under- 
stood him well, and gave him a subsidy, limited to 
the sum of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, 
besides two fifteens : for his wars were always to him 
as a mine of treasure of a strange kind of ore; iron 
at the top, and gold and silver at the bottom. At 
this parliament, for that there had been so much 
time spent in making laws the year before, and for 
that it was called purposely in respect of the Scottish 
war, there were no laws made to be remembered. 
Only there passed a Jaw, at the suit of the merchant- 
adventurers of England, against the merchant- 
adventurers of London, for monopolizing and exact- 
ing upon the trade; which it seemeth they did a 
little to save themselves after the hard time they had 
sustained by want of trade. But those innovations 
were taken away by parliament. 

But it was fatal to the king to fight for his 
money ; and though he avoided to fight with enemies 
abroad, yet he was still enforced to fight for it 
with rebels at home : for no sooner began the subsidy 
to be levied in Cornwall, but the people there began 
to grudge and murmur. The Cornish being a race 
of men, stout of stomach, mighty of body and Jimb, 
and that lived hardly in a barren country, and many 
of them could, for a need, live under ground, that 
were tinners. They muttered extremely, that it 
was a thing not to be suffered, that for a little stir 


328 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of the Scots, soon blown over, they should be thus 
grinded to powder with payments; and said it was 
for them to pay that had too much, and lived idly. 
But they would eat their bread that they got with 
the sweat of their brows, and no man should take it 
from them. And as in the tides of people once up, 
there want not commonly stirring winds to make 
them more rough; so this people did light upon two 
ringleaders or captains of the rout. The one was one 
Michael Joseph, a blacksmith or farrier, of Bodmin, 
a notable talking fellow, and no less desirous to be 
talked of. The other was Thomas Flammock, a 
lawyer, who, by telling his neighbours commonly 
upon any occasion that the law was on their side, 
had gotten great sway amongst them. This man 
talked learnedly, and as if he could tell how to make 
a rebellion, and never break the peace. He told the 
people, that subsidies were not to be granted, nor 
levied in this case ; that is, for wars of Scotland: for 
that the law had provided another course, by service of 
escuage, for those journeys; much less when all was 
quiet, and war was made but a pretence to poll and 
pill the people. And therefore that it was good they 
should not stand like sheep before the shearers, 
but put on harness, and take weapons in their hands. 
Yet to do no creature hurt; but go and deliver the 
king a strong petition for the laying down of those 
grievous payments, and for the punishment of those 
that had given him that counsel; to make others 
beware how they did the like in time to come. And 
said, for his part he did not see how they could do 


% 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 329 


the duty of true Englishmen, and good liege-men, 
except they did deliver the king from such wicked 
ones, that would destroy both him and the country. 
Their aim was at Archbishop Morton and Sir Regi- 
nald Bray, who were the king’s screens in this envy. 

After that these two, Flammock and the black- 
smith, had by joint and several pratings found tokens 
of consent in the multitude, they offered themselves 
to lead them, until they should hear of better men 
to be their leaders, which they said would be ere 
long : telling them further, that they would be but 
their servants, and first in every danger ; but doubted 
not but to make both the west-end and the east-end 
of England to meet in so good a quarrel; and that 
all, rightly understood, was but. for the king’s ser- 
vice. ‘The people upon these seditious instigations, 
did arm, most of them with bows and arrows, and 
bills, and such other weapons of rude and country 
people, and forthwith under the command of their 
leaders, which in such cases is ever at pleasure, 
marched out of Cornwall through Devonshire unto 
Taunton in Somersetshire, without any slaughter, 
violence, or spoil of the country. At Taunton they 
killed in fury an officious and eager commissioner for 
the subsidy, whom they called the Provost of Perin. 
Thence they marched to Wells, where the Lord 
Audley, with whom their leaders had before some 
secret intelligence, a nobleman of an ancient family, 
but unquiet and popular, and aspiring to ruin, came 
in to them, and was by them, with great gladness 
and cries of joy, accepted as their general; they 


330 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


being now proud that they were led by a nobleman. 
The Lord Audley led them on from Wells to Salis- 
bury, and from Salisbury to Winchester. Thence 
the foolish people, who, in effect, lead their leaders, 
had a mind to be led into Kent, fancying that the 
people there would join with them; contrary to all 
reason or judgement, considering the Kentish men 
had shewed great loyalty and affection to the king 
so lately before. But the rude people had heard 
Flammock say, that Kent was never conquered, and 
that they were the freest people of England. And 
upon these vain noises, they looked for great matters 
at their hands, in a cause which they conceited to 
be for the liberty of the subject. But when they 
were come into Kent, the country was so well 
settled, both by the king’s late kind usage towards 
them, and by the credit and power of the Earl of 
Kent, the Lord Abergavenny, and the Lord Cob- 
ham, as neither gentleman nor yeoman came in to 
their aid, which did much damp and dismay many 
of the simpler sort; insomuch as divers of them did 
secretly fly from the army, and went home: but the 
sturdier sort, and those that were most engaged, 
stood by it, and rather waxed proud, than failed in 
hopes and courage. For as it did somewhat appall 
them, that the people came not in to them, so it 
did no less encourage them, that the king’s forces 
had not set upon them, having marched from the 
west unto the east of England. Wherefore they 
kept on their way, and encamped upon Blackheath, 
between Greenwich and Eltham, threatening either 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 331 


to bid battle to the king, for now the seas went 
higher than to Morton and Bray, or to take London 
within his view; imagining with themselves, there 
to find no less fear than wealth. 

But to return to the king. When first he heard 
of this commotion of the Cornish men occasioned by 
the subsidy, he was much troubled therewith; not 
for itself, but in regard of the concurrence of other 
dangers that did hang over him at that time. For 
he doubted lest a war from Scotland, a rebellion 
from Cornwall, and the practices and conspiracies of 
Perkin and his partakers, would come upon him at 
once: knowing well, that it was a dangerous tripli- 
city to a monarchy, to have the arms of a foreigner, 
the discontents of subjects, and the title of a pre- 
tender to meet. Nevertheless the occasion took him 
in some part well provided. For as soon as the 
parliament had broken up, the king had presently 
raised a puissant army to war upon Scotland. And 
King James of Scotland likewise, on his part, had 
made great preparations, either for defence, or for 
new assailing of England. But as for the king’s 
forces, they were not only in preparation, but in 
readiness presently to set forth, under the conduct o 
D’Aubigny the lord chamberlain. But as soon as 
the king understood of the rebellion of Cornwall, he 
stayed those forces, retaining them for his own 
service and safety. But therewithal he dispatched 
the Earl of Surrey into the north, for the defence and 
strength of those parts, in case the Scots should stir. 
But for the course he held towards the rebels, it 

VOL, 3, U 


832 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII, 


was utterly differing from his former custom and 
practice: which was ever full of forwardness and 
celerity to make head against them, or to set upon 
them as soon as ever they were in action. This he 
was wont todo. But now, besides that he was at- 
tempered by years, and less in love with dangers, by 
the continued fruition of a crown; it was a time 
when the various appearance to his thoughts of 
perils of several natures, and from divers parts, did 
make him judge it his best and surest way, to keep 
his strength together in the seat and centre of his 
kingdom: according to the ancient Indian emblem, 
in such a swelling season, to hold the hand upon the 
middle of the bladder, that no side might rise. 
Besides, there was no necessity put upon him to 
alter his counsel. For neither did the rebels spoil 
the country, in which case it had been dishonour to 
abandon his people; neither on the other side did 
their forces gather or increase, which might hasten 
him to precipitate and assail them before they grew 
too strong. And lastly, both reason of estate and 
war seemed to agree with this course: for that in- 
surrections of base people are commonly more 
furious in their beginnings. And by this means also 
he had them the more at vantage, being tired and 
harassed with a long march; and more at mercy, 
being cut off far from their country, and therefore 
not able by any sudden flight to get to retreat, and 
to renew the troubles. 

When therefore the rebels were encamped on 


Blackheath, upon the hill, whence they might behold 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 333 


the city of London, and the fair valley about it; the 
king knowing well, that it stood him upon, by how 
much the more he had hitherto protracted the time 
in not encountering them, by so much the sooner to 
dispatch with them, that it might appear to have 
been no coldness in fore-slowing, but wisdom in 
choosing his time; resolved with all speed to assail 
them, and yet with that providence and surety, as 
should leave little to venture or fortune. And having 
very great and puissant forces about him, the better 
to master all events and accidents, he divided them 
into three parts; the first was led by the Earl of 
Oxford in chief, assisted by the earls of Essex and 
Suffolk. These noblemen were appointed, with 
some cornets of horse, and bands of foot, and good 
store of artillery, wheeling about to put themselves 
beyond the hill where the rebels were encamped ; 
and to beset all the skirts and descents thereof, 
except those that lay towards London; thereby to 
have these wild beasts, as it were, in atoil. The 
second part of his forces, which were those that were 
to be most in action, and upon which he relied most 
for the fortune of the day, he did assign to be led by 
the lord chamberlain, who was appointed to set upon 
the rebels in front, from that side which is towards 
London. The third part of his forces, being like- 
wise great and brave forces, he retained about 
himself, to be ready upon all events to restore the 
fight, or consummate the victory; and mean while 
to secure the city. And for that purpose he en- 
camped in person in Saint George’s Fields, putting 


334 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


himself between the city and the rebels. But the city 
of London, especially at the first, upon the near en- 
camping of the rebels, was in great tumult: as it 
useth to be with wealthy and populous cities, 
especially those which being for greatness and fortune 
queens of their regions, who seldom see out of their 
windows, or from their towers, an army of enemies. 
But that which troubled them most, was the con- 
ceit, that they dealt with a rout of people, with 
whom there was no composition or condition, or 
orderly treating, if need were; but likely to be bent | 
altogether upon rapine and spoil. And although 
they had heard that the rebels had behaved them- 
selves quietly and modestly by the way as they 
went; yet they doubted much that would not last, 
but rather make them more hungry, and more in 
appetite to fall upon spoil in the end. Wherefore 
there was great running to and fro of people, some to 
the gates, some to the walls, some to the water-side; 
giving themselves alarms and panic fears continu- 
ally. Nevertheless both Tate, the lord mayor, and 
Shaw and Haddon the sheriffs, did their parts, stoutly 
and well, in arming and ordering the people. And 
the king likewise did adjoin some captains of expe- 
rience in the wars, to advise and assist the citizens. 
But soon after, when they understood that the king 
had so ordered the matter, that the rebels must win 
three battles, before they could approach the city, 
and that he had put his own person between the 
rebels and them, and that the great care was, rather 
how to impound the rebels that none of them might 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 335 


escape, than that any doubt was made to vanquish 
them; they grew to be quiet and out of fear; the 
rather, for the confidence they reposed, which was 
not small, in the three leaders, Oxford, Essex, and 
D’Aubigny; all men well famed and loved amongst 
the people. As for Jasper, Duke of Bedford, whom 
the king used to employ with the first in his wars, 
he was then sick, and died soon after. 

It was the two and twentieth of June, and 
a Saturday, which was the day of the week the king 
fancied, when the battle was fought: though the 
king had, by all the art he could devise, given out a 
false day, as if he prepared to give the rebels battle 
on the Monday following, the better to find them 
unprovided, and in disarray. The lords that were 
appointed to circle the hill, had some days before 
planted themselves, as at the receipt, in places conve- 
nient. In the afternoon, towards the decline of the 
day, which was done, the better to keep the rebels 
in opinion that they should not fight that day, the 
Lord D’Aubigny marched on towards them, and 
first beat some troops of them from Deptford-bridge, 
where they fought manfully ; but, being in no great 
number, were soon driven back, and fled up to their 
main army upon the hill. The army at that time, 
hearing of the approach of the king’s forces, were 
putting themselves in array, not without much con- 
fusion. But neither had they placed, upon the first 
high ground towards the bridge, any forces to 
second the troops below, that kept the bridge; nei- 
ther had they brought forwards their main battle, 


336 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


which stood in array far into the heath, near to the 
ascent of the hill. So that the earl with his forces 
mounted the hill, and recovered the plain without 
resistance. The Lord D’Aubigny charged them 
with great fury; insomuch as it had like, by acci- 
dent, to have brandled the fortune of the day: for, 
by inconsiderate forwardness in fighting in the head 
of his troops, he was taken by the rebels, but imme- 
diately rescued and delivered. The rebels main- 
tained the fight for a small time, and for their 
persons shewed no want of courage; but being ill 
armed, and ill led, and without horse or artillery, 
they were with no great difficulty cut in pieces, and 
put to flight. And for their three leaders, the Lord 
Audley, the blacksmith, aud Flammock, as com- 
monly the captains of commotions are but half- 
couraged men, suffered themselves to be taken alive. 
The number slain on the rebels’ part were some 
two thousand men; their army amounting, as it is 
said, unto the number of sixteen thousand. The 
rest were, in effect, all taken; for that the hill, as 
was said, was encompassed with the king’s forces 
round about. On the king’s part there died about 
three hundred, most of them shot with arrows, 
which were reported to be of the length of a taylor’s 
yard ; so strong and mighty a bow the Cornish men 
were said to draw. . 
The victory thus obtained, the king created 
divers bannerets, as well upon Blackheath, where 
his lieutenant had won the field, whither he rode in 
person to perform the said creation, as in St. 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 337 


George’s Fields, where his own person had been 
encamped. And for matter of liberality, he did, by 
open edict, give the goods of all the prisoners unto 
those that had taken them; either to take them in 
kind, or compound for them, as they could. After 
matter of honour and liberality, followed matter of 
severity and execution. The Lord Audley was led 
from Newgate to Tower-Hill, in a paper coat 
painted with his own arms; the arms reversed, the 
coat torn, and at Tower-Hill beheaded. Flam- 
mock and the blacksmith were hanged, drawn, and 
quartered at Tyburn: the blacksmith taking plea- 
sure upon the hurdle, as it seemeth by words that 
he uttered, to think that he should be famous in 
after-times. The king was once in mind to have 
sent down Flammock and the blacksmith to have 
been executed in Cornwall, for the more terror; 
but being advertised that the country was yet un- 
quiet and boiling, he thought better not to irritate 
the people further. All the rest were pardoned by 
proclamation, and to take out their pardons under 
seal, as many as would. So that, more than the 
blood drawn in the field, the king did satisfy himself 
with the lives of only three offenders, for the expia- 
tion of this great rebellion. 

It was a strange thing to observe the variety 
and inequality of the king’s executions and pardons; 
and a man would think it, at the first, a kind of lot- 
tery or chance. But, looking into it more nearly, 
one shall find there was reason for it, much more, 


238 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIL. 


perhaps, than after so long a distance of time we 
can now discern. In the Kentish commotion, which 
was but an handful of men, there were executed to 
the number of one hundred and fifty; but in this 
so mighty a rebellion, but three. Whether it were 
that the king put to account the men that were 
slain in the field, or that he was not willing to be 
severe in a popular cause, or that the harmless be- 
haviour of this people, that came from the west of 
England to the east, without mischief almost, or 
spoil of the country, did somewhat mollify him, 
and move him to compassion; or lastly, that he 
made a great difference between people that did 
rebel upon wantonness, and them that did rebel 
upon want. 

After the Cornish men were defeated, there 
came from Calais to the king an honourable embas- 
sage from the French king, which had arrived at 
Calais a month before, and there was stayed in re- 
spect of the troubles, but honourably entertained 
and defrayed. The king, at their first coming, sent 
unto them, and prayed them to have patience, till a 
little smoke, that was raised in his country, were 
over, which would soon be: slighting, as his manner 
was, that openly, which nevertheless he intended 
seriously. 

This embassage concerned no great affair, but 
only the prolongation of days for payment of mo- 
neys, and some other particulars of the frontiers. 
And it was, indeed, but a wooing embassage, with 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 339 


good respects to entertain the king in good affection ; 
but nothing was done or handled to the derogation 
of the king’s late treaty with the Italians. 

But during the time that the Cornish men were 
in their march towards London, the King of Scot- 
land, well advertised of all that passed, and know- 
ing himself sure of a war from England, whensoever 
those stirs were appeased, neglected not his oppor- 
tunity; but thinking the king had his hands full, 
entered the frontiers of England again with an 
army, and besieged the castle of Norham in person, 
with part of his forces, sending the rest to forage the 
country, But Fox, Bishop of Duresme, a wise man, 
and one that could see through the present to the 
‘future, doubting as much before, had caused his 
castle of Norham to be strongly fortified, and fur- 
nished with all kind of munition; and had manned 
it likewise with a very great number of tall soldiers, 
more than for the proportion of the castle, reckon- 
ing rather upon a sharp assault, than a long siege. 
And for the country likewise, he had caused the 
poople to withdraw their cattle and goods into fast 
places, that were not of easy approaci; and sent in 
post to the Earl of Surrey, who was not far off, in 
Yorkshire, to come in diligence to the succour. So 
as the Scottish King both failed of doing good upon 
the castle, and his men had but a catching harvest 
of their spoils; and when he understood that the 
Earl of Surrey was coming on with great forces, he 
returned back into Scotland. The earl, finding the 
castle freed, and the enemy retired, pursued with 


340 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


all celerity into Scotland, hoping to have overtaken 
the Scottish King, and to have given him battle; 
but, not attaining him in time, sat down before the 
castle of Ayton, one of the strongest places, then 
esteemed, between Berwick and Edinburgh, which 
in a small time he took. And soon after, the Scot- 
tish King retiring farther into his country, and the 
weather being extraordinary foul and stormy, the 
earl returned into England. So that the expedi- 
tions on both parts were, in effect, but a castle 
taken, and a castle distressed; not answerable to 
the puissance of the forces, nor to the heat of the 
quarrel, nor to the greatness of the expectation. 
Amongst these troubles, both civil and external, 
came into England from Spain, Peter Hialas, some 
call him Elias, surely he was the forerunner of the 
good hap that we enjoy at this day; for his embas- 
sage set the truce between England and Scotland ; 
the truce drew on the peace; the peace the mar- 
riage ; and the marriage the union of the kingdoms ; 
a man of great wisdom, and, as those times were, 
not unlearned ; sent from Ferdinando and Isabella, 
Kings of Spain, unto the king, to treat a marriage 
between Catharine, their second daughter, and 
Prince Arthur. This treaty was by him set in a 
very good way, and almost brought to perfection. 
But it so fell out by the way, that upon some con- 
ferences which he had with the king touching this 
business, the king, who had a great dexterity in get- 
ting suddenly into the bosom of ambassadors of fo- 
reign princes, if he liked the men; insomuch as he 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 341 


would many times communicate with them of his 
own affairs, yea, and employ them in his service, fell 
into speech and discourse incidently, concerning the 
ending of the debates and differences with Scotland. 
For the king naturally did not love the barren wars 
with Scotland, though he made his profit of the 
noise of them. And he wanted not in the council 
of Scotland, those that would advise their king to 
meet him at the half way, and to give over the war 
with England; pretending to be good patriots, but 
indeed favouring the affairs of the king. Only his 
heart was too great to begin with Scotland for the 
motion of peace. On the other side, he had met 
with an ally of Ferdinando of Arragon, as fit for his 
turn as could be. For after that King Ferdinando 
had, upon assured confidence of the marriage to 
succeed, taken upon him the person of a fraternal 
ally to the king, he would not let, in a Spanish gra- 
vity, to counsel the king in his own affairs. And 
the king on his part, not being wanting to himself, 
but making use of every man’s humours, made his 
advantage of this in such things as he thought either 
not decent, or not pleasant to proceed from himself ; 
putting them off as done by the counsel of Ferdi- 
nando. Wherefore he was content that Hialis, as 
in a matter moved and advised from Hialis himself, 
should go into Scotland, to treat of a concord be- 
tween the two kings. Hialas took it upon him, and 
coming to the Scottish king, after he had with 
much art brought King James to hearken to the 
more safe and quiet counsels, wrote unto the king, 


342 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


that he hoped that peace would with no great diffi- 
culty cement and close, if he would send some wise 
and temperate counsellor of his own, that might 
treat of the conditions. Whereupon the king di- 
rected Bishop Fox, who at that time was at his 
castle of Norham, to confer with Hialas, and they 
both to treat with some commissioners deputed 
from the Scottish King. The commissioners on 
both sides met. But after much dispute upon the 
articles and conditions of peace, propounded upon 
either part, they could not conclude a peace. The 
chief impediment thereof was the demand of the 
king to have Perkin delivered into his hands, as a 
reproach to all kings and a person not protected by 
the law of nations. The King of Scotland, on the 
other side, peremptorily denied so to do, saying, 
that he, for his part, was no competent judge of 
Perkin’s title: but that he had received him as a 
suppliant, protected him as a person fled for refuge, 
espoused him with his kinswoman, and aided him 
with his arms, upon the belief that he was a prince; 
and therefore that he could not now with his honour 
so unrip, and, in a sort, put a lie upon all that he 
had said and done before, as to deliver him up to his 
enemies. The bishop likewise, who had certain proud 
instructions from the king, at the least in the front, 
though there were a pliant clause at the foot, that 
remitted all to the bishop’s discretion, and required 
him by no means to break off in ill terms, after 
that he had failed to obtain the delivery of Per- 
kin, did move a second point of his instructions, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 343 


which was, that the Scottish king would give the 
king an interview in person at Newcastle. But this 
being reported to the Scottish king, his answer 
was, that he meant to treat a peace, and not to go 
a begging for it. The bishop also, according to 
another article of his instructions, demanded re- 
stitution of the spoils taken by the Scottish, or 
damages for the same. But the Scottish commis- 
missioners answered, that that was but as water 
spilt upon the ground, which could not be gotten up 
again; and that the king’s people were better able 
to bear the loss than their master to repair it. But 
in the end, as persons capable of reason, on both 
sides they made rather a kind of recess than a breach 
of treaty, and concluded upon a truce for some 
months following. But the King of Scotland, 
though he would not formally retract his judgement 
of Perkin, wherein he had engaged himself so far ; 
yet in his private opinion, upon often speech with 
the Englishmen, and divers other advertisements, 
began to suspect him for a counterfeit. Wherefore in 
a noble fashion he called him unto him, and recounted 
the benefits and favours that he had done him in. 
making him his ally, and in provoking a mighty and 
opulent king by an offensive war in his quarrel, for 
the space of two years together; nay more, that he 
had refused an honourable peace, whereof he had a 
fair offer, if he would have delivered him; and that, 
to keep his promise with him, he had deeply offended 
both his nobles and people whom he might not hold 
in any long discontent ; and therefore required him 


344 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


to think of his own fortunes, and to choose out some 
fitter place for his exile: telling him withal, that he 
could not say, but the English had forsaken him be- 
fore the Scottish, for that, upon two several trials, 
none had declared themselves on his side ; but never- 
theless he would make good what he said to him at 
his first receiving, which was that he should not re- 
pent him for putting himself into his hands ; for that 
he would not cast him off, but help him with ship- 
ping and means to transport him where he should 
desire. Perkin, not descending at all from his stage- 
like greatness, answered the king in few words, that 
he saw his time was not yet come; but whatsoever 
his fortunes were, he should both think and speak 
honour of the king. Taking his leave, he would not 
think on Flanders, doubting it was but hollow ground 
for him since the treaty of the archduke, concluded 
the year before; but took his lady, and such fol- 
lowers as would not leave him, and sailed over into 
Ireland. 

This twelfth year of the king, a little before this 
time, Pope Alexander, who loved best those princes 
that were furthest off, and with whom he had least 
to do, taking very thankfully the king’s late entrance 
into league for the defence of Italy, did remunerate 
him with an hallowed sword and cap of maintenance, 
sent by his nuncio. Pope Innocent had done the 
like, but it was not received in that glory: for the 
king appointed the mayor and his brethren to meet 
the pope’s orator at London-bridge, and all the streets 
between the bridge-foot and the palace of Pauls, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 345 


where the king then lay, were garnished with the 
citizens, standing in their liveries. And the morrow 
after, being Allhallows-day, the king, attended with 
many of his prelates, nobles, and principal courtiers, 
went in procession to Pauls, and the cap and sword 
were borne before him. And after the procession, 
the king himself remaining seated in the quire, the 
lord archbishop, upon the greece of the quire, made 
along oration; setting forth the greatness and 
eminency of that honour which the pope, in these 
ornaments and ensigns of benediction, had done the 
king; and how rarely, and upon what high deserts 
they used to be bestowed: and then recited the 
king’s principal acts and merits, which had made him 
appear worthy, in the eyes of his holiness of this 
great honour. 

All this while the rebellion of Cornwall, whereof 
we have spoken, seemed to have no relation to Per- 
kin; save that perhaps Perkin’s proclamation had 
stricken upon the right vein, in promising to lay 
down exactions and payments, and so had made 
them now and then have a kind thought on Perkin. 
But now these bubbles by much stirring began to 
meet, as they use to do upon the top of water. The 
king’s lenity, by that time the Cornish rebels, who 
were taken and pardoned, and, as it was said, many 
of them sold by them that had taken them, for twelve 
pence and two shillings a piece, were come down into 
their country, had rather emboldeneh them than re- 
claimed them ; insomuch as they stuck not to.say to 
their neighbours and countrymen, that the king did 


346 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


well to pardon them, for that he knew he should 
leave few subjects in England, if he hanged all that 
were of their mind; and began whetting and inciting 
one another to renew the commotion. Some of the 
subtilest of them, hearing of Perkin’s being in Ireland, 
found means to send to him to let him know, that 
if he would come over to them they would serve him. 

When Perkin heard this news, he began to take 
heart again, and advised upon it with his council, 
which were principally three: Herne, a mercer, that 
had fled for debt; Skelton, a taylor; and Astley, a 
scrivener ; for Secretary Frion was gone. These told 
him, that he was mightily overseen, both when he 
went into Kent, and when he went into Scotland ; 
the one being a place so near London, and under 
the king’s nose; and the other a nation so distasted 
with the people of England, that if they had loved 
him never so well, yet they would never have taken 
his part in that company. But if he had been so 
happy as to have been in Cornwall at the first, when 
the people began to take arms there, he had been 
crowned at Westminster before this time. For, these 
kings, as he had now experience, would sell poor 
princes for shoes. But he must rely wholly upon 
people; and therefore advised him to sail over with 
all possible speed into Cornwall; which accordingly 
he did, having in his company four small barks, with 
some six score or seven score fighting men. He 
arrived in September at Whitsand-Bay, and forth- 
with came to Bodmin, the blacksmith’s town; where 
there assembled unto him to the number of three 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 347 


thousand men of the rude people. There he set 
forth a new proclamation, stroking the people with 
fair promises, and humouring them with invectives 
against the king and his government. And as it 
fareth with smoke, that never loseth itself till it be 
at the highest; he did now before his end raise his 
style, intitling himself no more Richard, Duke of 
York, but Richard the Fourth, King of England. 
His council advised him by all means to make him- 
self master of some good walled town; as well to 
make his men find the sweetness of rich spoils, and 
to allure to him all loose and lost people, by like 
hopes of booty ; as to be a sure retreat to his forces, 
in case they should have any ill day, or unlucky 
chance in the field. Wherefore they took heart to 
them, and went on, and besieged the city of Exeter, 
the principal town for strength and wealth in those 
parts. 

When they were come before Exeter, they for- 
bare to use any force at the first, but made con- 
tinual shouts and outcries to terrify the inhabitants. 
They did likewise in divers places call and talk to 
them from under the walls, to join with them, and 
be of their party; telling them, that the king 
would make them another London, if they would 
be the first town that would acknowledge him. 
But they had not the wit to send to them, in any 
orderly fashion, agents or chosen men, to tempt 
them, and to treat with them. The citizens, on 
their part, shewed themselves stout and loyal sub- 
jects; neither was there so much as any tumult or 

VOL. 3. x 


348 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


pivision amongst them, but all prepared themselves 
for a valiant defence, and making good the town. 
For well they saw, that the rebels were of no such 
number or power, that they needed to fear them as 
yet; and well they hoped, that before their num- 
bers increased, the king’s succours would come in. 
And, howsoever, they thought it the extremest of 
evils, to put themselves at the mercy of those hun- 
ery and disorderly people. Wherefore setting all 
things in good order within the town, they never- 
theless let down with cords, from several parts of the 
walls, privily, several messengers, that if one came to 
mischance, another might pass on, which should ad- 
vertise the king of the state of the town, and implore 
his aid. Perkin also doubted, that succours would 
come ere long; and therefore resolved to use his 
utmost force to assault the town. And for that pur- 
Pose having mounted scaling ladders in divers places 
upon the walls, made at the same instant an attempt 
to force one of the gates. But having no artillery 
nor engines, and finding that he could do no good by 
ramming with logs of timber, nor by the use of iron 
bars and iron crows, and such other means at hand, 
he had no way left him but to set one of the gates on 
fire which he did. But the citizens well perceiving 
the danger, before the gate could be fully consumed, 
blocked up the gate, and some space about it on the 
inside, with faggots and other fuel, which they like- 
wise set on fire, and so repulsed fire with fire ; and 
in the mean time raised up rampiers of earth, and 
cast up deep trenches, to serve instead of wall and 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 349 


gate. And for the scaladoes, they had so bad suc- 
cess, as the rebels were driven from the walls with 
the loss of two hundred men. 

The king when he heard of Perkin’s siege of 
Exeter, made sport with it, and said to them that 
were about him, that the king of rake-hells was 
landed in the west, and that he hoped now to have 
the honour to see him, which he could never yet do. 
And it appeared plainly to those that were about the 
king, that he was indeed much joyed with the news 
of Perkin’s being in English ground, where he could 
have no retreat by land; thinking now that he 
should be cured of those privy stitches, which he had 
had long about his heart, and at some times broken 
his sleeps, in the midst of all his felicity. And to set 
all men’s hearts on fire, he did by all possible means let 
it appear, that those that should now do him service 
to make an end of these troubles, should be no less 
accepted of him, than he that came upon the eleventh 
hour, and had the whole wages of the day. There- 
fore now, like the end of a play, a great number 
came upon the stage at once. He sent the Lord 
Chamberlain, and the Lord Brook, and Sir Rice ap 
Thomas, with expedite forces to speed to Exeter, to 
the rescue of the town, and to spread the fame of his 
own following in person with a royal army. The 
Earl of Devonshire, and his son, with the Carews, 
and the Fulfordes, and other principal persons of 
Devonshire, uncalled from the court, but hearing 
that the king’s heart was so much bent upon this 
service, made haste with troops that they had raised, 


350 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


to be the first that should succour the city of Exeter, 
and prevent the king’s succours. The Duke of Buck- 
ingham likewise, with many brave gentlemen, put 
themselves in arms, not staying either the king’s or 
the Lord Chamberlain’s coming on, but making abody 
of forces of themselves, the more to endear their 
merit ; signifying to the king their readiness, and 
desiring to know his pleasure. So that according to 
the proverb, in the coming down, every saint did help. 

Perkin, hearing this thunder of arms, and prepa- 
rations against him from so many parts, raised his 
siege, and marched to Taunton; beginning already 
to squint one eye upon the crown and another upon 
the sanctuary; though the Cornish men were become 
like metal often fired and quenched, churlish, and 
that would sooner break than bow; swearing and 
vowing not to leave him, till the uttermost drop of 
their blood were spilt. He was at his rising from 
Exeter between six and seven thousand strong, 
many having come unto him after he was set before 
Exeter, upon fame of so great an enterprize, and to 
partake of the spoil; though upon the raising of his 
siege some did slip away. When he was come near 
Taunton, he dissembled all fear, and seemed all the 
day to use diligence in preparing all things ready to 
fight. But about midnight he fled with threescore 
horse to Bewdley in the New Forest, where he and 
divers of his company registered themselves sanc- 
tuary men, leaving his Cornish men to the four winds; 
but yet thereby easing them of their vow, and using 
his wonted compassion, not to be by when his sub- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 351 


jects’ blood should be spilt. The king, as soon as he 
heard of Perkin’s flight, sent presently five hundred 
horse to pursue and apprehend him, before he should 
get either to the sea, or to that same little island 
called a sanctuary. But they came too late for the 
latter of these. Therefore all they could do, 
was to beset the sanctuary, and to maintain a strong 
watch about it, till the king’s pleasure were further 
known. As for the rest of the rebels, they, being 
destituted of their head, without stroke stricken, sub- 
mitted themselves unto the king’s mercy. And the 
king, who commonly drew blood, as physicians do, 

rather to save life than to spill it, and was never 
cruel when he was secure; now he saw the danger 
was past, pardoned them all in the end, except some 
few desperate persons, which he reserved to be 
executed, the better to set off his mercy towards the 
rest. There were also sent with all speed some 
horse to Saint Michael’s mount in Cornwall, where 
the Lady Catharine Gordon was left by her hus- 
band, whom in all fortunes she entirely loved; add- 
ing the virtues of a wife to the virtues of her sex. 
The king sent in the greater diligence, not knowing 
whether she might be with child, whereby the busi- 
ness would not have ended in Perkin’s person. When 
she was brought to the king, it was commonly said, 

that the king received her not only with compassion, 
but with affection; pity giving more impression to 
her excellent beauty. Wherefore comforting her, 
to serve as well his eye as his fame, he sent her to his 
queen to remain with her; giving her very honour- 


352 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


able allowance for the support of her estate, which 
she enjoyed both during the king’s life, and many 
years after. The name of the white-rose, which had 
been given to her husband’s false title, was continued 
in common speech to her true beauty. 

The king went forwards on his journey, and 
made a joyful entrance into Exeter, where he gave 
the citizens great commendations and thanks; and 
taking the sword he wore from his side, he gave it 
to the mayor, and commanded it should be ever 
after carried before him. There also he caused to be 
executed some of the ringleaders of the Cornish 
men, in sacrifice to the citizens whom they had put 
in fear and trouble. At Exeter the king consulted 
with his council, whether he should offer life to 
Perkin if he would quit the sanctuary, and volun- 
tarily submit himself. The council were divided in 
opinion: some advised the king to take him out of 
sanctuary per force, and to put him to death, as in 
a case of necessity, which in itself dispenseth with 
consecrated places and things: wherein they doubted 
not also but the king should find the pope tractable 
to ratify his deed, either by declaration, or, at least, 
by indulgence. Others were of opinion, since all 
was now safe, and no further hurt could be done, 
that it was not worth the exposing of the king to 
new scandal and envy. A third sort fell upon the 
opinion, that it was not possible for the king ever, 
either to satisfy the world well touching the impos- 
ture, or to learn out the bottom of the conspiracy, 
except by promise of life and pardon, and other fair 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 353 


means, he should get Perkin into his hands. But 
they did all in their preambles much bemoan the 
king’s case, with a kind of indignation at his fortune; 
that a prince of his high wisdom and virtue, should 
have been so long and so oft exercised and vexed 
with idols. But the king said, that it was the vexa- 
tion of God Almighty himself to be vexed with idols, 
and therefore that that was not to trouble any of his 
friends; and that for himself, he always despised 
them ; but was grieved that they had put his people 
to such trouble and misery. But in conclusion, he 
leaned to the third opinion, and so sent some to deal 
with Perkin, who seeing himself prisoner, and desti- 
tute of all hopes, having tried princes and people, 
great and small, and found all either false, faint, or 
unfortunate, did gladly accept of the condition. The 
king did also, while he was at Exeter, appoint the 
Lord Darcy, and others commissioners, for the 
fining of all such as were of any value, and had any 
hand or partaking in the aid or comfort of Perkin, 
or the Cornish men, either in the field or in the flight. 

These commissioners proceeded with such strict- 
ness and severity, as did much obscure the king’s 
mercy in sparing of blood, with the bleeding of so 
much treasure. Perkin was brought unto the king’s 
court, but not to the king’s presence; though the 
king, to satisfy his curiosity, saw him sometimes out 
of a window, or in passage. He was in shew at 
liberty, but guarded with all care and watch that was 
possible, and willed to follow the king to London. 
But from his first appearance upon the stage, in his 


354 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


new person of a sycophant, or juggler, instead of his 
former person of a prince, all men may think how he 
was exposed to the derision not only of the courtiers, 
but also of the common people, who flocked about 
him as he went along: that one might know afar off 
where the owl was by the flight of birds; some mock- 
ing, some wondering, some cursing, some prying and 
picking matter out of his countenance and gesture 
to talk of: so that the false honour and respects 
which he had so long enjoyed, was plentifully repaid 
in scorn and contempt. As soon as he was come to 
London, the king gave also the city the solace of this 
May-game; for he was conveyed leisurely on horse- 
back, but not in any ignominious fashion, through 
Cheapside and Cornhill, to the Tower, and from 
thence back again to Westminster, with the churm 
of a thousand taunts and reproaches. But to amend 
the show, there followed a little distance off Perkin, 
an inward counsellor of his, one that had been ser- 
jeant farrier to the king. This fellow, when Perkin 
took sanctuary, chose rather to take an holy habit 
than an holy place, and clad himself like an hermit, 
and in that weed wandered about the country, till he 
was discovered and taken. But this man was bound 
hand and foot upon the horse, and came not back 
with Perkin, but was left at the Tower, and within 
few days after executed. Soon after, now that Per- 
kin could tell better what himself was, he was dili- 
gently examined; and after his confession taken, an 
extract was made of such parts of them as were 


chought fit to be divulged, which was printed and 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 355 


dispersed abroad ; wherein the king did himself no 
right; for as there was a laboured tale of particu- 
lars, of Perkin’s father and mother, and grandsire 
and grandmother, and uncles and cousins, by names 
and sirnames, and from what places he travelled up 
and down; so there was little or nothing to purpose 
of any thing concerning his designs, or any practices 
that had been held with him; nor the Duchess of 
Burgundy herself, that all the world did take know- 
ledge of, as the person that had pnt life and being 
into the whole business, so much as named or pointed 
at. So that men missing of that they looked for, 
looked about for they knew not what, and were in 
more doubt than before ; but the king chose rather 
not to satisfy, than to kindle coals. At that time 
also it did not appear by any new examination or 
commitments, that any other person of quality was 
discovered or appeached, though the king’s closeness 
made that a doubt dormant. 

About this time a great fire in the night time 
suddenly began at the king’s palace of Sheen, near 
unto the king’s own lodgings, whereby a great part 
of the building was consumed, with much costly 
household-stuff; which gave the king occasion of 
building from the ground that fine pile of Richmond 
which is now standing. 

Somewhat before this time also, there fell out a 
memorable accident: there was one Sebastian Ga- 
bato, a Venetian, dwelling in Bristol, a man seen 
and expert in cosmography and navigation. This 
man seeing the success, and emulating perhaps the 


356 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VI. ~ 


enterprize of Christopherus Columbus in that fortu- 
nate discovery towards the south-west, which had 
been by him made some six years before, conceited 
with himself, that lands might likewise be disco- 
vered towards the north-west. And surely it may 
be he had more firm and pregnant conjectures of it, 
than Columbus had of this at the first. For the 
two great islands of the old and new world, being, 
in the shape and making of them, broad towards 
the north, and pointed towards the south; it is 
likely, that the discovery first began where the 
lands did nearest meet. And there had been 
before that time a discovery of some lands, which 
they took to be islands, and were indeed the 
continent of America, towards the north-west. And 
it may be that some relation of this nature coming 
afterwards to the knowledge of Columbus, and by 
him suppressed (desirous rather to make his enter- 
prize the child of his science and fortune, than the 
follower of a former discovery) did give him better 
assurance, that all was not sea, from the west of 
Europe and Africa unto Asia, than either Seneca’s 
prophecy or Plato’s antiquities, or the nature of the 
tides and land-winds, and the like, which were the 
conjectures that were given out, whereupon he 
should have relied: though I am not ignorant, that 
it was likewise laid unto the casual and wind-beaten 
discovery, a little before, of a Spanish pilot, who 
died in the house of Columbus. But this Gabato 
bearing the king in hand, that he would find out an 
island endued with rich commodities, procured him 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 357 


to man and yictual a ship at Bristol, for the disco- 
very of that island; with whom ventured also three 
small ships of London merchants, fraught with some 
gross and slight wares, fit for commerce with bar- 
barous people. He sailed, as he affirmed at his re- 
turn, and made a card thereof, very far westwards, 
with a quarter of the north, on the north side of 
Terra de Labrador, until he came to the latitude 
of sixty-seven degrees and an half, finding the seas 
still open. It is certain also, that the king’s fortune 
had a tender of that great empire of the West In- 
dies. Neither was it a refusal on the king’s part, 
but a delay by accident, that put by so great an 
acquest : for Christopherus Columbus, refused by the 
King of Portugal, who would not embrace at once 
both east and west, employed his brother Bartholo- 
meus Columbus unto King Henry, to negotiate for his ~ 
discovery : and it so fortuned, that he was taken by 
pirates at sea, by which accidental impediment he 
was long ere he came to the king: so long, that be- 
fore he had obtained a capitulation with the king for 
his brother, the enterprize by him was achieved, 
and so the West Indies by providence were then 
reserved for the crown of Castile. Yet this sharp- 
ened the king so, that not only in this voyage, but 
again in the sixteenth year of his reign, and like- 
wise in the eighteenth thereof, he granted forth new 
commissions for the discovery and investing of un- 
known lands. 

In this fourteenth year also, by God’s wonderful 
providence, that boweth things unto his will, and 


358 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


hangeth great weights upon small wires, there fell 
out a trifling and untoward accident, that drew on 
great and happy effects. During the truce with 
Scotland, there were certain Scottish young gentle- 
men that came into Norham town, and there made 
merry with some of the English of the town; and 
having little to do, went sometimes forth, and would 
stand looking upon the castle. Some of the garrison 
of the castle, observing this their doing twice or 
thrice, and having not their minds purged of the late 
ill blood of hostility, either suspected them, or quar- 
relled them for spies: whereupon they fell at ill 
words, and from words to blows; so that many were 
wounded of either side, and the Scottish men, being 
strangers in the town, had the worst; insomuch as 
some of them were slain, and the rest made haste 
home. The matter being complained on, and often 
debated before the wardens of the marches of both 
sides, and no good order taken: the King of [Scot- 
land took it to himself, and being much kindled, 
sent a herald to the king to make protestation, that 
if reparation were not done, according to the con- 
ditions of the truce, his king did denounce war. 
The king, who had often tried fortune, and was 
inclined to peace, made answer, that what had been 
done, was utterly against his will, and without his 
privity; but if the garrison soldiers had been in 
fault, he would see them punished, and the truce in 
all points to be preserved. But this answer seemed 
to the Scottish king but a delay, to make the com- 
plaint breathe out with time ; and therefore it did 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 359 


rather exasperate him than satisfy him. Bishop Fox, 
understanding from the king that the Scottish king 
was still discontent and impatient, being troubled 
that the occasion of breaking of the truce should 
grow from his men, sent many humble and depre- 
catory letters to the Scottish king to appease him. 
Whereupon King James, mollified by the bishop’s 
submissive and eloquent letters, wrote back unto 
him, that though he were in part moved by his 
letters, yet he should not be fully satisfied, except 
he spake with him, as well about the compounding 
of the present differences, as about other matters 
that might concern the good of both kingdoms. The 
bishop, advising first with the king, took his journey 
‘for Scotland. The meeting was at Melross, an 
abbey of the Cistercians, where the king then abode. 
The king first roundly uttered unto the bishop his 
offence conceived for the insolent breach of truce, by 
his men of Norham castle; whereunto Bishop’ Fox 
made such humble and smooth answer, as it was like 
oil into the wound, whereby it began to heal: and 
this was done in the presence of the king and his 
council. After, the king spake with the bishop apart, 
and opened himself unto him, saying, that these 
temporary truces and peaces were soon made, and 
soon broken, but that he desired a straiter amity 
with the King of England ; discovering his mind, 
that if the king would give him in marriage the 
Lady Margaret, his eldest daughter, that indeed 
might be a knot indissoluble. That he knew well 
what place and authority the bishop deservedly had 


360 | HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


with his master: therefore, if he would take the bu- 
siness to heart, and deal in it effectually, he doubted 
not but it would succeed well. The bishop answered 
soberly, that he thought himself rather happy than 
worthy to be an instrument in such a matter, but 
would do his best endeavour. Wherefore the bishop 
returning to the king, and giving account what had 
passed, and finding the king more than well disposed 
in it, gave the king advice; first to proceed to a 
conclusion of peace, and then to go on with the 
treaty of marriage by degrees. Hereupon a peace 
was concluded, which was published a little before 
Christmas, in the fourteenth year of the king’s 
reign, to continue for both the king’s lives, and the 
over-liver of them, and a year after. In this peace 
there was an article contained, that no Englishman 
should enter into Scotland, and no Scotchman into 
England, without letters commendatory from the 
kings of either nation. This at the first sight might 
seem a means to continue a strangeness between the 
nations ; but it was done to lock in the borderers. 

This year there was also born to the king a 
third son, who was christened by the name of 
Edmund, and shortly after died. And much about 
the same time came news of the death of Charles 
the French king, for whom there were celebrated 
solemn and princely obsequies. 

It was not long but Perkin, who was made of 
quicksilver, which is hard to hold or imprison, began 
to stir. For deceiving his keepers, he took him to 
his heels, and made speed to the sea-coast. But 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. | 361 


presently all corners were laid for him, and such 
diligent pursuit and search made, as he was fain to 
turn back, and get him to the house of Bethlehem, 
called the priory of Sheen (which had the privilege 
of sanctuary) and put himself into the hands of the 
prior of that monastery. The prior was thought an 
holy man, and much reverenced in those days. He 
came to the king, and besought the king for Perkin’s 
life only, leaving him otherwise to the king’s discre- 
tion. Many about the king were again more hot 
than ever, to have the king to take him forth and 
hang him. But the king, that had an high stomach, 
and could not hate any that he despised, bid, “ Take 
“him forth, and set the knave in the stocks ;” and 
so promising the prior ~his life, he caused him to be 
brought forth. And within two or three days after, 
upon a scaffold set up in the palace court at West- 
minster, he was fettered and set in the stocks for 
the whole day. And the next day after, the like was 
done by him at the cross in Cheapside, and in both 
places he read his confession, of which we made 
mention before ; and was from Cheapside conveyed 
and laid up in the Tower. Notwithstanding all this, 
the king was, as was partly touched before, grown 
to be such a partner with fortune, as no body could 
tell what actions the one, and what the other owned. 
For it was believed generally, that Perkin was be- 
trayed, and that this escape was not without the 
king’s privity, who had him all the time of his flight 
in a line; and that the king did this, to pick a 
quarrel to him to put him to death, and to be rid of 


362 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


him at once: but this is not probable. For that the 
same instruments who observed him in his flight, 
might have kept him from getting into sanctuary. 
But it was ordained, that this winding-ivy of a 
Plantagenet should kill the true tree itself. For 
Perkin, after he had been a while in the Tower, 
began to insinuate himself into the favour and kind- 
ness of his keepers, servants to the lieutenant of the 
Tower, Sir John Digby, being four in number; 
Strangeways, Blewet, Astwood, and Long Roger. 
These varlets, with mountains of promises, he sought 
to corrupt, to obtain his escape ; but knowing well, 
that his own fortunes were made so contemptible, 
as he could feed no man’s hopes, and by hopes he 
must work, for rewards he had none, he had con- 
trived with himself a vast and tragical plot; which 
was, to draw into his company Edward Plantagenet, 
Earl of Warwick, then prisoner in the Tower; 
whom the weary life of a long imprisonment, and 
the often and renewing fears of being put to death, 
had softened to take any impression of counsel for 
his liberty. This young prince he thought the 
servants would look upon, though not upon himself: 
and therefore, after that by some message by one 
or two of them, he had tasted of the earl’s consent ; 
it was agreed that these four should murder their 
‘master the lieutenant, secretly, in the night, and 
make their best of such money and portable goods 
of his, as they should find ready at hand, and get 
the keys of the Tower, and presently let forth 
Perkin and the earl. But this conspiracy was re- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 363 


vealed in time, before it could be executed. And 
in this again the opinion of the king’s great wisdom 
did surcharge him with a sinister fame, that Perkin 
was but his bait, to entrap the Earl of Warwick. 
And in the very instant while this conspiracy was in 
working, as if that also had been the king’s industry, 
it was fatal, that there should break forth a coun- 
terfeit Earl of Warwick, a cordwainer’s son, whose 
name was Ralph Wilford; a young man taught and 
set on by an Augustin Friar, called Patrick. They 
both from the parts of Suffolk came forwards into 
Kent, where they did not only privily and under- 
hand give out that this Wilford was the true Earl 
of Warwick, but also the friar, finding some light 
credence in the people, took the boldness in the 
pulpit to declare as much, and to incite the people 
to come in to his aid. Whereupon they were both 
presently apprehended, and the young fellow exe- 
cuted, and the friar condemned to perpetual impri- 
sonment. This also happening so opportunely, to 
represent the danger to the king’s estate from the 
Earl of Warwick, and thereby to colour the king’s 
severity that followed; together with the madness 
of the friar so vainly and desperately to divulge a 
treason, before it had gotten any manner of strength: 
and the saving of the friar’s life, which nevertheless 
was, indeed, but the privilege of his order; and the 
pity in the common people, which if it run in a 
strong stream, doth ever cast up scandal and envy, 
made it generally rather talked than believed that 
all was but the king’s device. But howsoever it 
VOL. 3. Y 


364 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


were, hereupon Perkin, that had offended against 
grace now the third time, was at the last proceeded 
with, and by commissioners of oyer and determiner, 
arraigned at Westminster, upon divers treasons 
committed and perpetrated after his coming on land, 
within this kingdom, for so the judges advised, for 
that he was a foreigner, and condemned, and a few 
days after executed at Tyburn ; where he did again 
openly read his confession, and take it upon his 
death to be true. This was the end of this little 
cockatrice of a king, that was able to destroy those 
that did not espy him first. It was one of the 
longest plays of that kind that hath been in me- 
mory, and might perhaps have had another end, if 
he had not met with a king both wise, stout, and 
fortunate. 

As for Perkin’s three counsellors, they had re- 
gistered themselves sanctuary-men when their master 
did; and whether upon pardon obtained, or conti- 
nuance within the privilege, they came not to be 
proceeded with. 

There were executed with Perkin, the Mayor of 
Cork and his son, who had been principal abettors 
of his treasons. And soon after were likewise con- 
demned eight other persons about the Tower 
conspiracy, whereof four were the lieutenant’s men : 
but of those eight but two were executed. And 
immediately after was arraigned before the Earl of 
Oxford, then for the time high steward of England, 
the poor prince, the Earl of Warwick; not for the 
attempt to escape simply, for that was not acted, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 365 


and besides, the imprisonment not being for treason, 
the escape by law could not be treason, but for 
conspiring with Perkin to raise sedition, and to de- 
stroy the king: and the earl confessing the indict- 
ment, had judgement, and was shortly after beheaded 
on Tower-hill. 

This was also the end, not only of this noble and 
commiserable person Edward, the Earl of Warwick, 
eldest son to the Duke of Clarence ; but likewise of 
the line male of the Plantagenets, which had flou- 
rished in great royalty and renown, from the time of 
the famous King of England, King Henry the 
Second. Howbeit it was a race often dipped in 
their own blood. It hath remained since only trans- 
planted into other names, as well of the imperial 
line, as of other noble houses. But it was neither 
guilt of crime, nor reason of state, that could quench 
the envy that was upon the king for this execution : 
so that he thought good to export it out of the land, 
and to lay it upon his new ally, Ferdinando, King 
of Spain. For these two kings understanding one 
another at half a word, so it was that there were 
letters shewed out of Spain, whereby in the passages 
concerning the treaty of the marriage, Ferdinando 
had written to the king in plain terms, that he saw 
no assurance of his succession as long as the Earl of 
Warwick lived, and that he was loth to send his 
daughter to troubles and dangers. But hereby, as 
the king did in some part remove the envy from 
himself; so he did not observe, that he did withal 
bring a kind of malediction and infausting upon the 


366 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


marriage, as an ill prognostic: which in event so 
far proved true, as both Prince Arthur enjoyed a 
very small time after the marriage, and the Lady 
Catharine herself, a sad and a religious woman, long 
after, when King Henry the Eighth’s resolution 
of a divorce from her was first made known to her, 
used some words, that she had not offended, but it 
was a judgement of God, for that her former mar- 
riage was made in blood; meaning that of the Earl 
of Warwick. 

The fifteenth year of the king, there was a great 
plague both in London and in divers parts of the 
kingdom. Wherefore the king, after often change 
of places, whether to avoid the danger of the sick- 
ness, or to give occasion of an interview with the 
archduke, or both, sailed over with his queen to 
Calais. Upon his coming thither, the archduke sent 
an honourable embassage unto him, as well to wel- 
come him into those parts, as to let him know, that 
if it pleased him, he would come and do him 
reverence. But it was said withal, that the king 
might be pleased to appoint some place, that were 
out of any walled town or fortress, for that he had 
denied the same upon like occasion to the French 
king: and though, he said, he made a great dif- 
ference between the two kings, yet he would be loth 
to give a precedent, that might make it after to be 
expected at his hands, by another whom he trusted 
less. The king accepted of the courtesy, and ad- 
mitted of his excuse, and appointed the place to be 
at Saint Peter’s church without Calais. But withal 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 367 


he did visit the archduke with ambassadors sent 
from himself, which were the Lord St. John, and 
the secretary; unto whom the archduke did the 
honour, as, going to mass at Saint Omer’s, to set the 
Lord St. John on his right hand, and the secretary 
on his left, and so to ride between them to church. 
The day appointed for the interview the king went 
on horseback some distance from Saint Peter’s 
church, to receive the archduke: and upon their 
approaching, the archduke made haste to light, and 
offered to hold the king’s stirrup at his alighting; 
which the king would not permit, but descending 
from horseback, they embraced with great affection; 
and withdrawing into the church to a place prepared, 
they had long conference, not only upon the confir- 
mation of former treaties, and the freeing of com- 
merce, but upon cross marriages, to be had between 
the Duke of York, the king’s second son, and the 
archduke’s daughter; and again between Charles, 
the archduke’s son and heir, and Mary, the king’s 
second daughter. But these blossoms of unripe 
marriages were but friendly wishes, and the airs of 
loving entertainment; though one of them came 
afterwards to conclusion in treaty, though not in 
effect. But during the time that the two princes 
conversed and communed together in the suburbs of 
Calais, the demonstrations on both sides were 
passing hearty and affectionate, especially on the 
part of the archduke: who, besides that he was a 
prince of an excellent good nature, being conscious 
to himself how drily the king had been used by his 


368 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


council in the matter of Perkin, did strive by all 
means to recover it in the king’s affection. And 
having also his ears continually beaten with the 
counsels of his father and father-in-law, who, in re- 
spect of their jealous hatred against the French 
king, did always advise the archduke to anchor him- 
self upon the amity of King Henry of England; 
was glad upon this occasion to put in ure and prac- 
tice their precepts, calling the king patron, and 
father, and protector, (these very words the king 
repeats, when he certified of the loving behaviour of 
the archduke to the city,) and what else he could 
devise, to express his love and observance to the 
king. ‘There came also to the king, the governor 
of Picardy, and the bailiff of Amiens, sent from 
Lewis the French king to do him honour, and to 
give him knowledge of his victory, and winning of 
the Duchy of Milan. It seemeth the king was well 
pleased with the honours he received from those 
parts, while he was at Calais; for he did himself 
certify all the news and occurrents of them in every 
particular, from Calais, to the mayor and aldermen 
of London, which, no doubt, made no small talk in 
the city. For the king, though he could not enter- 
tain the good-will of the citizens, as Edward the 
Fourth did, yet by affability and other princely 
graces, did ever make very much of them, and apply 
himself to them. 

This year also died John Morton, Archbishop of 
Canterbury, Chancellor of England, and Cardinal. 
He was a wise man, and an eloquent, but in his 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 369 


nature harsh and haughty; much accepted by the 
king, but envied by the nobility, and hated of the 
people. Neither was his name left out of Perkin’s 
proclamation for any good will, but they would not 
bring him in amongst the king’s casting counters, 
because he had the image and superscription upon 
him of the pope, in his honour of cardinal. He won 
the king with secrecy and diligence, but chiefly be- 
cause he was his old servant in his less fortunes: 
and also for that, in his affections, he was not with- 
out an inveterate malice against the house of York, 
under whom he had been in trouble. He was willing 
also to take envy from the king, more than the king 
was willing to put upon him: for the king cared 
not for subterfuges, but would stand envy, and 
appear in any thing that was to his mind; which 
made envy still grow upon him more universal, but 
less daring. But in the matter of exactions, time 
did after shew, that the bishop in feeding the king’s 
humour did rather temper it. He had been by 
Richard the Third committed, as in custody, to the 
Duke of Buckingham, whom he did secretly incite 
to revolt from King Richard. But after the duke 
was engaged, and thought the bishop should have 
been his chief pilot in the tempest, the bishop was 
gotten into the cock boat, and fled over beyond seas. 
But whatsoever else was in the man, he deserveth a 
most happy memory, in that he was the principal 
mean of joining the two roses. He died of great 
years, but of strong health and powers. 

The next year, which was the sixteenth year of 


370 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


the king, and the year of our Lord one thousand five 
hundred, was the year of jubilee at Rome. But 
Pope Alexander, to save the hazard and charges of 
men’s journies to Rome, thought good to make over 
those graces by exchange, to such as would pay a 
convenient rate, seeing they could not come to fetch 
them. For which purpose was sent into England, 
Jasper Pons, a Spaniard, the pope’s commissioner, 
better chosen than were the commissioners of Pope 
Leo, afterwards employed for Germany; for he 
carried the business with great wisdom, and sem- 
blance of holiness : insomuch as he levied great sums 
of money within this land to the pope’s use, with 
little or no scandal. It was thought the king shared 
in the money ; but it appeareth by a letter which 
Cardinal Adrian, the king’s pensioner, wrote to the 
king from Rome some few years after, that this was 
not so. For this cardinal, being to persuade Pope 
Julius, on the king’s behalf, to expedite the bull of 
dispensation for the marriage between Prince Henry 
and the Lady Catharine, finding the pope difficile 
in granting thereof, doth use it as a principal argu- 
ment concerning the king’s merit towards that see, 
that he had touched none of those deniers which had 
been levied by Pons in England. But that it might 
the better appear, for the satisfaction of the common 
people, that this was consecrated money, the same 
nuncio brought unto the king a brief from the pope, 
wherein the king was exhorted and summoned to 
come in person against the Turk : for that the pope, 
out of the care of an universal father, seeing almost 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 371 


under his eyes the successes and progresses of that 
great enemy of the faith, had had in the conclave, 
and with the assistance of the ambassadors of 
foreign princes, divers consultations about an holy 
war, and a general expedition of Christian princes 
against the Turk: wherein it was agreed and 
thought fit, that the Hungarians, Polonians, and 
Bohemians, should make a war upon Thracia; the 
French and Spaniards upon Grecia; and that the 
pope, willing to sacrifice himself in so good a cause, 
in person, and in company of the King of England, 
the Venetians, and such other states as were great 
in maritime power, would sail with a puissant navy 
through the Mediterranean unto Constantinople. 
And that to this end, his holiness had sent nuncios 
to all Christian princes, as well for a cessation of all 
quarrels and differences amongst themselves, as for 
speedy preparations and contributions of forces and 
treasure for this sacred enterprize. 

To this the king, who understood well the court 
of Rome, made an answer rather solemn than seri- 
ous: signifying, 

“That no prince on earth should be more for- 
“ ward and obedient, both by his person, and by all 
“ his possible forces and fortunes, to enter into this 
*‘ sacred war, than himself. But that the distance 
“ of place was such, as no forces that he should raise 
“‘ for the seas, could be levied or prepared but with 
“double the charge, and double the time, at the 
“least, that they might be from the other princes, 
“ that had their territories nearer adjoining. Besides, 
“ that neither the manner of his ships, having no 


SY 7 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


S galleys, nor the experience of his pilots and mari- 
“ ners, could be so apt for those seas as theirs. And 
‘“‘ therefore that his holiness might do well to move 
“ one of those other kings, who lay fitter for the 
“ purpose, to accompany him by sea. Whereby both 
‘all things would be no sooner put in readiness, and 
‘ with less charge, and the emulation and division 
“of command, which might grow between those 
“kings of France and Spain, if they should both 
“join in the war by land upon Grecia, might be 
“ wisely avoided; and that for his part he would not 
“be wanting in aids and contribution. Yet not- 
“ withstanding, if both these kings should refuse, 
« yather than his holiness should go alone, he would 
“ wait upon him as soon as he could be ready: al- 
“ ways provided, that he might first see all dif- 
« ferences of the Christian princes amongst them- 
« selves fully laid down and appeased, as for his own 
“ part he was in none, and that he might have some 
“ good towns upon the coast in Italy put into his 
« hands, for the retreat and safeguard of his men.” 

With this answer Jasper Pons returned, nothing 
at all discontented: and yet this declaration of the 
king, as superficial as it was, gave him that reputa- 
tion abroad, as he was not long after elected by the 
Knights of Rhodes, the protector of their order: all 
things multiplying to honour in a prince, that had 
gotten such high estimation for his wisdom and suffi- 
ciency. 

There were these two last years some proceed- 
ings against heretics, which was rare in this king’s 
reign, and rather by penances, than by fire. The 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 373 


king had, though he were no good schoolman, the 
honour to convert one of them by dispute at Can- 
terbury. 

This year also, though the king were no more 
haunted with sprites, for that by the sprinkling, 
partly of blood, and partly of water, he had chased 
them away ; yet nevertheless he had certain appari- 
tions that troubled him, still shewing themselves 
from one region, which was the house of York. It 
came so to pass, that the Earl of Suffolk, son to 
Elizabeth, eldest sister to King Edward the Fourth, 
by John, Duke of Suffolk, her second husband, and 
brother to John, Earl of Lincoln, that was slain at 
Stokefield, being of an hasty and choleric disposition, 
had killed a man in his fury ; whereupon the king 
gave him his pardon. But, either willing to leave a 
cloud upon him, or the better to make him feel his. 
grace, produced him openly to plead his pardon. 
This wrought in the earl, as in a haughty stomach it 
useth to do; for the ignominy printed deeper than 
the grace. Wherefore he being discontent, fled 
secretly into Flanders unto his aunt, the Duchess of 
Burgundy. The king startled at it, but, being 
taught by troubles to use fair and timely remedies, 
wrought so with him by messages, the Lady Marga- 
ret also growing, by often failing in her alchymy, 
weary of her experiments ; and partly being a little 
sweetened, for that the king had not touched her 
name in the confession of Perkin, that he came over 


again upon good terms, and was reconciled to the 
king. 


374 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


In the beginning of the next year, being the 
seventeeth of the king, the Lady Catharine, fourth 
daughter of Ferdinando and Isabella, King and 
Queen of Spain, arrived in England at Plymouth, 
the second of October, and was married to Prince 
Arthur, in Pauls, the fourteenth of November follow- 
ing : the prince being then about fifteen years of age, 
and the lady about eighteen. The manner of her 
receiving, the manner of her entry into London, and 
the celebrity of the marriage, were performed with 
great and true magnificence, in regard of cost, shew, 
and order. ‘The chief man that took the care was 
Bishop Fox, who was not only a grave counsellor for 
war or peace, but also a good surveyor of works, 
and a good master of ceremonies, and any thing 
else that was fit for the active part, belonging to 
the service of court or state of a great king. This 
marriage was almost seven years in treaty, which 
was inpart caused by the tender years of the marriage- 
couple, especially of the prince : but the true reason 
was, that these two princes, being princes of great 
policy and profound judgement, stood a great time 
looking one upon another's fortunes, how they would 
go; knowing well, that in the mean time the very 
treaty itself gave abroad in the world a reputation of — 
a strait conjunction and amity between them, which 
served on both sides to many purposes, that their 
several affairs required, and yet they continued still 
free. But in the end, when the fortunes of both 
the princes did grow every day more and more 
prosperous and assured, and that looking all about 


HISTORY. OF KING HENRY VII. 375 


them, they saw no better conditions, they shut 
it up. i 
The marriage money the princess brought, 
which was turned over to the king by act of renun- 
ciation, was two hundred thousand ducats; whereof 
one hundred thousand were payable ten days after 
the solemnization, and the other hundred thousand 
at two payments annual; but part of it to be in 
jewels and plate, and a due course set down to have 
them justly and indifferently prized. The jointure 
or advancement of the lady, was the third part of the 
Principality of Wales, and of the Dukedom of Corn- 
wall, and of the Earldom of Chester, to be after set 
forth in severalty ; and in case she came to be Queen 
of England, her advancement was left indefinite, but 
thus; that it should be as great as ever any former 
Queen of England had. In all the devices and con- 
ceits of the triumphs of this marriage, there was a 
great deal of astronomy ; the lady being resembled 
to Hesperus, and the prince to Arcturus, and the old 
King Alphonsus, that was the greatest astronomer of 
kings, and was ancestor to the lady, was brought in, 
to be the fortune-teller of the match. And who- 
soever had those toys in compiling, they were not 
altogether pedantical; but you may be sure, that 
King Arthur, the Briton, and the descent of the Lady 
Catharine from the house of Lancaster, was in no 
wise forgotten. But as it should seem, it is not 
good to fetch fortunes from the stars; for this young 
prince, that drew upon him at that time, not only 
the hopes and affections of his country, but the eyes 


> 


376 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


and expectation of foreigners, after a few months, in 
the beginning of April, deceased at Ludlow castle, 
where he was sent to keep his resiance and court, as 
Prince of Wales. Of this prince, in respect he died 
so young, and by reason of his father’s manner of 
education, that did cast no great lustre upon his 
children, there is little particular memory : only thus 
much remaineth, that he was very studious and 
learned, beyond his years, and beyond the custom of 
great princes. 

There was a doubt ripped up in the times fol- 
lowing, when the divorce of King Henry the Eighth 
from the Lady Catharine did so much busy the 
world, whether Arthur was bedded with his lady or 
no, whereby that matter in fact, of carnal knowledge, 
might be made part of the case. And it is true, 
that the lady herself denied it, or at least her counsel 
stood upon it, and would not blanch that advantage, 
although the plenitude of the pope’s power of dis- 
pensing was the main question. And this doubt was 
kept long open, in respect of the two queens that 
succeeded, Mary and Elizabeth, whose legitimations 
were incompatible one with another, though their 
succession was settled by act of parliament. And 
the times that favoured Queen Mary’s legitimation 
would have it believed, that there was no carnal 
knowledge between Arthur and Catharine. Not 
that they would seem to derogate from the pope's 
absolute power, to dispense even in that case: but 
only in point of honour, and to make the case more 
fayourable and smooth. And the times that favoured 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIL - $377 


Queen Elizabeth’s legitimation, which were the 
longer and the latter, maintained the contrary. So- 
much there remaineth in memory, that it was half 
a year’s time between the creation of Henry, Prince 
of Wales, and Prince Arthur’s death, which was 
construed to be, for to expect a full time, whereby 
it might appear, whether the Lady Catharine were 
with child by Prince Arthur, or no. Again, the lady 
herself procured a bull, for the better corroboration 
of the marriage, with a clause of “vel forsan cog- 
nitam,” which was not in the first bull. There was 
given in evidence also, when the cause of the di- 
vorce was handled, a pleasant passage, which was, 
that in a morning, Prince Arthur, upon his up- 
rising from bed with her, called for drink, which he 
was not accustomed to do, and finding the gentle- 
man of his chamber that brought him the drink to 
smile at it, and to note it, he said merrily to him, 
that he had been in the midst of Spain, which was 
an hot region, and his journey had made him dry; 
and that if the other had been in so hot a clime, he 
would have been drier than he. Besides, the prince 
was upon the point of sixteen years of age when 
he died, and forward, and able in body. : 

The February following, Henry, Duke of York 
was created Prince of Wales, and Earl of Chester 
and Flint: for the Dukedom of Cornwall devolved 
to him by statute. The king also being fast-handed, 
and loth to part with a second dowry, but chiefly 
being affectionate both by his nature, and out of 
politic considerations to continue the alliance with 
Spain, prevailed with the prince, though not without 


378 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


some reluctation, such as could be in those years, for 
he was not twelve years of age, to be contracted with 
the Princess Catharine. The secret providence of 
God ordaining that marriage to be the occasion of 
great events and changes. } 

The same year were the espousals of James, King 
of Scotland with the Lady Margaret, the king’s 
eldest daughter; which was done by proxy, and 
published at Paul’s cross, the five and twentieth of 
January, and Te Deum solemnly sung. But certain 
it is, that the joy of the city thereupon shewed, by 
ringing of bells and bonfires, and such other incense 
of the people, was more than could be expected, in 
a case of so great and fresh enmity between the na- 
_ tions, especially in London, which was far enough 
off from feeling any of the former calamities of the 
war; and therefore might be truly attributed to a 
secret instinct and inspiring, which many times run- 
neth not only in the hearts of princes, but in the 
pulse and veins of people, touching the happiness 
thereby to ensue in time tocome. ‘This marriage 
was in August following, consummate at Edin- 
burgh: the king bringing his daughter as far as 
Colliweston on the way, and then consigning her to 
the attendance of the Earl of Northumberland; who, 
with a great troop of lords and ladies of ho- 
nour, brought her into Scotland, to the king her 
husband. 

This marriage had been in treaty by the space 
of almost three years, from the time that the king of 
Scotland did first open his mind to Bishop Fox. The 
sum given in marriage by the king, was ten thou- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 379 


sand pounds: and the jointure and advancement 
assured by the King of Scotland, was two thousand 
pounds a year, after King James’s death, and one 
thousand pounds a year in present, for the lady’s 
allowance or maintenance. This to be set forth in 
lands, of the best and most certain revenue. Dur- 
ing the treaty, it is reported, that the king remitted 
the matter to his council; and that some of the 
table, in the freedom of counsellors, the king being 
present, did put the case, that if God should take 
the king’s two sons without issue, that then the 
kingdom of England would fall to the King of Scot- 
land, which might prejudice the monarchy of Eng- 
land. Whereunto the king himself replied; that if 
that should be, Scotland would be but an accession 
to England, and not England to Scotland, for that 
the greater would draw the less: and that it was a 
safer union for England than that of France. This 
passed as an oracle, and silenced those that moved 
the question. 

The same year was fatal, as well for deaths as 
marriages, and that with equal temper. For the joys 
and feasts of the two marriages were compensed with 
the mournings and funerals of Prince Arthur, of 
whom we have spoken, and of Queen Elizabeth, who 
died in child-bed in the Tower, and the child lived 
not long after. There died also that year, Sir Re- 
ginald Bray, who was noted to have had with the 
king the greatest freedom of any counsellor: but it 
was but a freedom the better to set off flattery. Yet 

VOL. 3. Z 


280 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


he bare more than his just part of envy for the ex- 
actions. 

At this time the king’s estate was very pros- 
perous: secured by the amity of Scotland, strength- 
ened by that of Spain, cherished by that of Burgundy, 
all domestic troubles quenched, and all noise of war, 
like a thunder afar off, going upon Italy. Where- 
fore nature, which many times is happily contained 
and refrained by some bands of fortune, began to 
take place in the king; carrying, as with a strong 
tide, his affections and thoughts unto the gathering 
and heaping up of treasure. And as kings do more 
easily find instruments for their will and humour, 
than for their service and honour ; he had gotten for 
his purpose, or beyond his purpose, two instruments, 
Empson and Dudley, whom the people esteemed as 
his horse-leeches and shearers, bold men and careless 
of fame, and that took toll of their master’s grist. 
Dudley was of a good family, eloquent, and one that 
could put hateful business into good language. But 
Empson, that was the son of a sieve-maker, tri- 
umphed always upon the deed done, putting off all 
other respects whatsoever. These two persons being 
lawyers in science, and privy counsellors in authority, 
as the corruption of the best things is the worst, 
turned law and justice into wormwood and rapine. 
For first, their manner was to cause divers subjects 
to be indicted of sundry crimes, and so far forth to 
proceed in form of law; but when the bills were 
found, then presently to commit them: and never- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 381 


theless not to produce them in any reasonable time 
to their answer, but to suffer them to languish long 
in prison, and by sundry artificial devices and terrors 
to extort from them great fines and ransoms, which 
they termed compositions and mitigations. 

Neither did they, towards the end, observe so 
much as the half-face of justice, in proceeding by in- 
dictment; but sent forth their precepts to attach 
men and convent them before themselves, and some 
others, at their private houses, in a court of commis- 
sion; and there used to shuffle up a summary pro- 
ceeding by examination, without trial of jury; 
assuming to themselves there to deal both in pleas 
of the crown, and controversies civil. 

Then did they also use to inthral and charge the 
subjects’ lands with tenures “ in capite,” by finding 
false offices, and thereby to work upon them for 
wardships, liveries, premier seisins, and alienations, 
~ being the fruits of those tenures, refusing, upon di- 
vers pretexts and delays, to admit men to traverse 
those false offices, according to the law. Nay, the 
king’s wards, after they had accomplished their full 
age, could not be suffered to have livery of their 
lands, without paying excessive fines, far exceeding 
all reasonable rates. They did also vex men with 
informations of intrusion, upon scarce colourable 
titles. 

When men were outlawed in personal actions, 
they would not permit them to purchase their char- 
ters of pardon, except they paid great and intoler- 
able sums; standing upon the strict point of law, 


382 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. ~ 


which upon outlawries giveth forfeiture of goods; 
nay, contrary to all law and colour, they maintained | 
the king ought to have the half of men’s lands and rents, 
during the space of full two years, for a pain in case 
of outlawry. They would also ruffle with jurors, 
and inforce them to find as they would direct, and, 
if they did not, convent them, imprison them, and 
fine them. 

These and many other courses, fitter to be bu- 
ried than repeated, they had of preying upon the 
people ; both like tame hawks for their master, and 
like wild hawks for themselves; insomuch as they 
grew to great riches and substance: but their prin- 
cipal working was upon penal laws, wherein they 
spared none, great nor small; nor considered whe- 
ther the law were possible or impossible, in use or 
obsolete: but raked over all old and new statutes, 
though many of them were made with intention ra- 
ther of terror than of rigour, having ever a rabble of 
promoters, questmongers, and leading jurors at their 
command, so as they could have any thing found 
either for fact or valuation. 

There remaineth to this day a report, that the 
king was on a time entertained by the Earl of Ox- 
ford, that was his principal servant both for war and 
peace, nobly and sumptuously, at his castle at Hen- 
ningham: And at the king’s going away, the earl’s 
servants stood, in a seemly manner, in their livery 
coats, with cognizances, ranged on both sides, and 
made the king a lane. The king called the earl to 
him, and said, “‘ My lord, I have heard much of your 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 383 


“ hospitality, but I see it is greater than the speech : 
“ These handsome gentlemen and yeomen, which I 
‘* see on both sides of me, are sure your menial ser- 
“ vants.” The earl smiled, and said, “It may please 
“ your grace, that-were not for mine ease: they are 
“ most of them my retainers, that are come to do 
“me service at such a time as this, and chiefly to 
“see your grace.” The king started a little, and 
said, “ By my faith, my lord, I thank you for my 
“ good cheer, but I may not endure to have my laws 
‘ broken in my sight: my attorney must speak with 
“ you.” And it is part of the report, that the earl 
compounded for no less than fifteen thousand marks, 
And to shew further the king’s extreme diligence, I 
do remember to have seen long since a book of ac- 
compt of Empson’s, that had the king’s hand almost 
to every leaf, by way of signing, and was in some 
places postilled in the margin with the king’s hand 
likewise, where was this remembrance. 


“ Item, Received of such a one five marks, for a 
“pardon to be procured; and if the pardon 
“ do not pass, the money to be repaid: except 
“the party be some other ways satisfied.” 


And over-against this “ Memorandum,” of the king’s 
own hand, 
“* Otherwise satisfied.” 


Which I do the rather mention, because it shews 
in the:king a nearness, but yet with a kind of just- 


384 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


ness. So these little sands and grains of gold and 
silver, as it seemeth, helped not a little to make up 
the great heap and bank. 

But mean while to keep the king awake, the 
Ear] of Suffolk, having been too gay at Prince Ar- 
thur’s marriage, and sunk himself deep in debt, had 
yet once more a mind to be a knight-errant, and to 
seek adventures in foreign parts; and taking his 
brother with him, fled again into Flanders. ‘That, 
no doubt, which gave him confidence, was the great 
murmur of the people against the king’s govern- 
ment: and being a man of a light and rash spirit, 
he thought every vapour would be a tempest. Nei- 
ther wanted he some party within the kingdom: for 
the murmur of people awakes the discontents of no- 
bles; and again, that calleth up commonly some 
head of sedition. The king resorting to his wonted 
and tried arts, caused Sir Robert Curson, captain of 
the castle at Hammes, being at that time beyond 
sea, and therefore less likely to be wrought upon by 
the king, to fly from his charge, and to feign himself 
a servant of the earl’s. This knight, having insinu- 
ated himself into the secrets of the earl, and finding 
by him upon whom chiefly he had either hope or 
hold, advertised the king thereof in great secrecy : 
but nevertheless maintained his own credit and in- 
ward trust with the earl. Upon whose advertisement 
the king attached William Courtney, Earl of De- 
vonshire, his brother-in-law, married to the Lady 
Catharine, daughter to King Edward the Fourth; 
William de la Pole, brother to the Earl of Suffolk ; 


» 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 385 


Sir James Tirrel, and Sir John Windham, and some 
other meaner persons, and committed them to cus- 
tody. George Lord Abergavenny, and Sir Thomas 
Green, were at the same time apprehended ; but as 
upon less suspicion, so in a freer restraint, and were 
soon after delivered. ‘The Earl of Devonshire being 
interested in the blood of York, that was rather 
feared than nocent ; yet as. one that might be the 
object of others plots and designs, remained prisoner 
in the Tower, during the king’s life. William de la 
Pole was also long restrained, though not so straitly. 
But for Sir James Tirrel, against whom the blood 
of the innocent princes, Edward the Fifth, and his 
brother, did still “cry from under the altar,” and Sir 
John Windham, and the other meaner ones, they 
were attainted and executed ; the two knights be- 
headed. Nevertheless, to confirm the credit of Cur- 
son, who belike had not yet done all his feats of 
activity, there was published at Paul’s cross, about 
the time of the said executions, the pope’s bull of 
excommunication and curse against the Earl of Suf- 
folk and Sir Robert Curson, and some others by 
name; and likewise in general against all the abet- 
tors of the said earl: wherein it must be confessed, 
that heaven was made too much to bow to earth, 
and religion to policy. But soon after, Curson, 
when he saw the time, returned into England, and 
withal into wonted favour with the king, but worse 
fame with the people. Upon whose return the earl 
was much dismayed, and seeing himself destitute of 
hopes, the Lady Margaret also, by tract of time and 


386 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIl. 


bad success, being now become cool in those at- 
tempts, after some wandering in France and Ger- 
many, and certain little projects, no better than 
squibs of an exiled man, being tired out, retired 
again into the protection of the Archduke Philip in 
Flanders, who by the death of Isabella was at that 
time King of Castile, in the right of Joan his wife. 

This year, being the nineteenth of his reign, the 
king called his parliament; wherein a man may 
easily guess how absolute the king took himself to 
be with his parliament, when Dudley, that was so 
hateful, was made Speaker of the House of Com- 
mons. In this parliament there were not made any 
statutes memorable touching public government; 
but those that were, had still the stamp of the 
king’s wisdom and policy. 

There was a statute made for the disannulling of 
all patents of lease or grant, to such as came not 
upon lawful summons to serve the king in his wars, 
against the enemies or rebels, or that should depart 
without the king’s licence; with an exception of 
certain persons of the long robe: providing never- 
theless that they should have the king’s wages from 
their house, till their return home again. There 
had been the like made before for offices, and by 
this statute it was extended to lands. But a man 
may easily see by many statutes made in this king’s 
time, that the king thought it safest to assist martial 
law by law of parliament. 

Another statute was made, prohibiting the bring- 
ing in of manufactures of silk wrought by itself, or 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 387 


mixt with any other thread. But it was not of 
stuffs of whole piece, for that the realm had of them 
no manufacture in use at that time, but of knit silk, 
or texture of silk; as ribbons, laces, cauls, points, 
and girdles, &c. which the people of England could 
then well skill to make. ‘This law pointed at a true 
principle; “ That where foreign materials are but 
“ superfluities, foreign manufactures should be pro- 
«‘ hibited.” For that will either banish the super- 
fluity, or gain the manufacture. 

There was a law also of resumption of patents 
of gaols, and the reannexing of them to the sheriff- 
wicks; privileged officers being no less an inter- 
ruption of justice, than privileged places. 

There was likewise a law to restrain the by-laws, 
or ordinances of corporations, which many times 
were against the prerogative of the king, the common 
law of the realm, and the liberty of the subject, 
being fraternities in evil, It was therefore provided, 
that they should not be put in execution, without 
the allowance of the chancellor, treasurer, and the 
two chief justices, or three of them, or of the two 
justices of circuit where the corporation was. 

Another law was, in effect, to bring in the silver 
of the realm to the mint, in making all clipped, 
minished, or impaired coins of silver, not to be 
current in payments; without giving any remedy of 
weight, but with an exception only of reasonable 
wearing, which was as nothing in respect of the un- 
certainty; and so, upon the matter, to set the mint 


388 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


on work, and to give way to new coins of silver, 
which should be then minted. 

There likewise was a long statute against vaga- 
bonds, wherein two things may be noted; the one, 
the dislike the parliament had of gaoling of them, as 
that which was chargeable, pesterous, and of no 
open example. The other, that in the statutes of 
this king’s time, for this of the nineteenth year is 
not the only statute of that kind, there are ever 
coupled the punishment of vagabonds, and the for- 
bidding of dice and cards, and unlawful games, unto 
servants and mean people, and the putting down 
and suppressing of alehouses, as strings of one root 
together, and as if the one were unprofitable with- 
out the other. 

As for riot and retainers, there passed scarce 
any parliament in this time without a law against 
them: the king ever having an eye to might and 
multitude. 

There was granted also that parliament a sub- 
sidy, both from the temporalty and the clergy. And 
yet nevertheless, ere the year expired, there went 
out commissions for a general benevolence, though 
there were no wars, no fears. The same year the 
city gave five thousand marks, for confirmation of 
their liberties; a thing fitter for the beginnings of 
kings’ reigns, than the latter ends. Neither was it 
a small matter that the mint gained upon the late 
statute, by the recoinage of groats and half-groats, 
now twelve-pences and six-pences. As for Empson 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 389 


and Dudley’s mills, they did grind more than ever : 
so that it was a strange thing to see what golden 
showers poured down upon the king’s treasury at 
once; the last payments of the marriage-money 
from Spain; the subsidy; the benevolence; the re- 
coinage ; the redemption of the city’s liberties; the 
casualties. And this is the more to be marvelled at, 
because the king had then no occasions at all of wars 
or troubles. He had now but one son, and one 
daughter unbestowed. He was wise; he was of an 
high mind; he needed not to make riches his glory; 
he did excel in so many things else; save that cer- 
tainly avarice doth ever find in itself matter of 
ambition. Belike he thought to leave his son such 
a kingdom, and such a mass of treasure, as he might 
choose his greatness where he would. 

This year was also kept the serjeants’ feast, 
‘~which was the second call in this king’s days. 

About this time Isabella, Queen of Castile, de- 
ceased ; a right noble lady, and an honour to her 
sex and times, and the corner-stone of the greatness 
of Spain that hath followed. This accident the king 
took not for news at large, but thought it had a 
great relation to his own affairs, especially in two 
points: the one for example, the other for conse- 
quence. First, he conceived that the case of 
Ferdinando of Arragon, after the death of Queen 
Isabella, was his own case after the death of his own 
queen; and the case of Joan the heir unto Castile, 
was the case of his own son Prince Henry. For if 
both of the kings had their kingdoms in the right of 


390 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


their wives, they descended to the heirs, and did not 
accrue to the husbands. And although his own case 
had both steel and parchment, more than the other, 
that is to say, a conquest in the field, and an act of 
parliament, yet notwithstanding, that natural title 
of descent in blood did, in the imagination even of a 
wise man, breed a doubt, that the other two were 
not safe nor sufficient. Wherefore he was wonderful 
diligent to inquire and observe what became of the 
King of Arragon, in holding and continuing the 
kingdom of Castile; and whether he did hold it in 
his own right; or as administrator to his daughter ; 
and whether he were like to hold it in fact, or to be 
put out by his son in-law. Secondly, he did revolve 
in his mind, that the state of Christendom might by 
this late accident have a turn. For whereas before 
time, himself, with the conjunction of Arragon and 
Castile, which then was one, and the amity of Maxi- 
milian and Philip his son the archduke, was far too 
strong a party for France; he began to fear, that 
now the French king, (who had great interest in the 
affections of Philip, the young King of Castile,) and 
Philip himself, now King of Castile, who was in ill 
terms with his father-in-law about the present go- 
vernment of Castile; and thirdly, Maximilian, 
Philip’s father, who was ever variable, and upon 
whom the surest aim that could be taken was, that 
he would not be long as he had been last before, 
would, all three, being potent princes, enter into 
some strait league and confederation amongst them- 
selves : whereby though he should not been dangered, 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 391 


yet he should be left to the poor amity of Arragon. 
And whereas he had been heretofore a kind of 
arbiter of Europe, he should now go less, and be 
over-topped by so great a conjunction. He had 
also, as it seems, an inclination to marry, and be- 
thought himself of some fit conditions abroad; and 
amongst others he had heard of the beauty and vir- 
tuous behaviour of the young Queen of Naples, the 
widow of Ferdinando the younger, being then of 
matronal years of seven and twenty: by whose 
marriage he thought that the kingdom of Naples, 
having been a gaol for a time between the King 
of Arragon and the French king, and being but 
newly settled, might in some part be deposited in 
his hands, who was so able to keep the stakes. 
Therefore he sent in embassage or message three 
confident persons, Francis Marsin, James Bray- 
brooke, and John Stile, upon two several inquisitions 
rather than negociations. The one touching the 
person and condition of the young Queen of Naples ; 
the other touching all particulars of estate, that 
concerned the fortunes and intentions of Ferdinando. 
And because they may observe best, who themselves 
are observed least, he sent them under colourable 
pretexts: giving them letters of kindness and com- 
pliment from Catharine the princess, to her aunt and 
niece, the old and young Queen of Naples, and de- 
livering to them also a book of new articles of peace : 
which notwithstanding it had been delivered unto 
Doctor de Puebla, the lieger ambassador of Spain 
here in England, to be sent; yet for that the king 


392 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


had been long without hearing from Spain, he 
thought good those messengers, when they had been 
with the two queens, should likewise pass on to the 
court of Ferdinando, and take a copy of the book 
with them. The instructions touching the Queen 
of Naples, were so curious and exquisite, being as 
articles whereby to direct a survey, or framing a 
particular of her person, for complexion, favour, 
feature, stature, health, age, customs, behaviour, 
conditions, and estate, as, if the king had been 
young, a man would have judged him to be amorous: 
but, being ancient, it ought to be interpreted, that 
sure he was very chaste, for that he meant to find 
all things in one woman, and so to settle his affec- 
tions without ranging. But in this match he was 
soon cooled, when he heard from his ambassadors, 
that this young queen had had a goodly jointure in 
the realm of Naples, well answered during the time 
of her uncle Frederick, yea and during the time of 
Lewis the French king, in whose division her revenue 
fell; but since the time that the kingdom was in 
Ferdinando’s hands, all was assigned to the army 
and garrisons there, and she received only a pension 
or exhibition out of his coffers. 

The other part of the inquiry had a grave and 
diligent return, informing the king at full of the 
present state of King Ferdinando. By this report it 
appeared to the king, that Ferdinando did continue 
the government of Castile as administrator unto his 
daughter Joan, by the title of Queen Isabella’s will, 
and partly by the custom of the kingdom, as he pre- 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 393 


tended. And that all mandates and grants were 
expedited in the name of Joan his daughter, and 
himself as administrator, without mention of Philip 
- her husband. And that King Ferdinando, how- 
soever he did dismiss himself of the name of King of 
Castile, yet meant to hold the kingdom without 
account, and in absolute command. 

It appeareth also, that he flattered himself with 
hopes, that King Philip would permit unto him the 
government of Castile during his life ; which he had 
laid his plot to work him unto, both by some coun- 
sellors of his about him, which Ferdinando had at 
his devotion, and chiefly by promise, that in case 
Philip gave not way unto it, he would marry some 
young lady, whereby to put him by the succession 
of Arragon and Granada, in case he should have a 
son; and lastly, by representing unto him that the 
government of the Burgundians, till Philip were by 
continuance in Spain made as natural of Spain, 
would not be endured by the Spaniards. But in all 
those things, though wisely laid down and consi- 
dered, Ferdinando failed ; but that Pluto was better 
to him than Pallas. 

In the same report also, the ambassadors being 
mean men, and therefore the more free, did strike 
upon a string which was somewhat dangerous ; for 
they declared plainly, that the people of Spain, both 
nobles and commons, were better affected unto the 
part of Philip, so he brought his wife with him, than 
to Ferdinando; and expressed the reason to be, 


394 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


because he had imposed upon them many taxes and 
tallages : which was the king’s own case between him 
and his son. 

There was also in this report a declaration of an 
overture of marriage, which Amason, the secretary 
of Ferdinando, had made unto the ambassadors in 
great secret, between Charles, Prince of Castile, and 
Mary, the king’s second daughter; assuring the king, 
that the treaty of marriage then on foot for the said 
prince and the daughter of France, would break ; 
and that she the said daughter of France should be 
married to Angolesme, that was the heir apparent of 
France. 

There was a touch also of a speech of marriage 
between Ferdinando and Madame de Fois, a lady of 
the blood of France, which afterwards indeed suc- 
ceeded. But this was reported as learned in France, 
and silenced in Spain. 

The king, by the return of this embassage, which 
gave great light unto his affairs, was well instructed, 
and prepared how to carry himself between Ferdi- 
nando, King of Arragon, and Philip, his son-in-law, 
King of Castile ; resolving with himself to do all that 
in him lay, to keep them at one within themselves ; 
but howsoever that succeeded, by a moderate car- 
riage, and bearing the person of a common friend, 
to lose neither of their friendships; but yet to run a 
course more entire with the King of Arragon, but 
more laboured and officious with the King of Cas- 
tile. But he was much taken with the overture of 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 395 


marriage with his daughter Mary ; both because it 
was the greatest marriage of Christendom, and for 
that it took hold of both allies. 

But to corroborate his alliance with Philip, the 
winds gave him an interview: for Philip choosing 
the winter season, the better to surprise the King of 
Arragon, set forth with a great navy out of Flanders 
for Spain, in the month of January, the one and 
twentieth year of the king’s reign. But himself was 
surprised with a cruel tempest, that scattered his 
ships upon the several coasts of England. And the 
ship wherein the king and queen were, with two 
other small barks only, torn and in great peril, to 
escape the fury of the weather thrust into Weymouth. 
King Philip himself, having not been used, as it 
seems, to sea, all wearied and extreme sick, would 
needs land to refresh his spirits, though it was 
against the opinion of his council, doubting it might 
breed delay, his occasions requiring celerity. 

The rumour of the arrival of a puissant navy 
upon the coast made the country arm. And Sir 
Thomas Trenchard, with forces suddenly raised, not 
knowing what the matter might be, came to Wey- 
mouth; where understanding the accident, he did 
in all humbleness and humanity invite the king and 
queen to his house; and forthwith dispatched posts 
to the court. Soon after came Sir John Carew like- 
wise, with a great troop of men well armed: using 
the like humbleness and respects towards the king, 
when he knew the case. King Philip doubting that 


they, being but subjects, durst not let him pass away 
VOL, 3. AA 


396 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


again without the king’s notice and leave, yielded 
to their intreaties to stay till they heard from the 
court. The king, as soon as he heard the news, com- 
manded presently the Earl of Arundel to go to visit 
the King of Castile, and let him understand that as 
he was very sorry for his mishap, so he was glad that 
he had escaped the danger of the seas, and likewise 
of the occasion himself had to do him honour ; and 
desiring him to think himself as in his own land ; 
and that the king made all haste possible to come 
and embrace him. The earl came to him in great 
magnificence, with a brave troop of three hundred 
horse; and, for more state, came by torch-light. 
After he had done the king’s message, King Philip 
seeing how the world went, the sooner to get away, 
went upon speed to the king at Windsor, and his 
queen followed by easy journeys. The two kings at 
their meeting used all the caresses and loving de- 
monstrations that were possible. And the King of 
Castile said pleasantly to the king, “ That he was 
“ now punished for that he would not come within 
“his walled town of Calais, when they met last.” 
But the king answered, “ That walls and seas 
“ were nothing where hearts were open; and that 
“ he was here no otherwise but to be served.” After 
a day or two’s refreshing, the kings entered into 
speech of renewing the treaty; the king saying, 
that though King Philip’s person were the same, yet 
his fortunes and state were raised: in which case a 
renovation of treaty was used amongst princes. 
But while these things were in handling, the king 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 397 


choosing a fit time, and drawing the King of Castile 
into a room, where they two only were private, and 
laying his hand civilly upon his arm, and changing 
his countenance a little from a countenance of enter- 
tainment, said to him, “ Sir, you have been saved 
“upon my coast, I hope you will not suffer me to 
“ wreck upon yours.” The King of Castile asked 
him what he meant by that speech? ‘I mean it,” 
saith the king, “ by that same harebrain wild fellow, 
“ my subject, the Earl of Suffolk, who is protected 
“in your country, and begins to play the fool, when 
“all others are weary of it.” The King of Castile 
answered, “I had thought, sir, your felicity had 
“ been above those thoughts ; but, if it trouble you, 
“ T will banish him.” The king replied, “ Those 
“hornets were best in their nest, and worst 
“when they did fly abroad; and that his de- 
“sire was to have him delivered to him.” The 
King of Castile, herewith a little confused, and 
in a study, said, “‘ That can I not do with my 
“honour, and less with yours; for you will be 
“thought to have used me as a prisoner.” ‘The 
king presently said, “ Then the matter is at end, for 
“Twill take that dishonour upon me, and so your 
“ honour is saved.” The King of Castile, who had 
the king in great estimation, and besides remem- 
bered where he was, and knew not what use he 
might have of the king’s amity, for that himself was 
new in his estate of Spain, and unsettled both with 
his father-in-law and with his people, composing 
his countenance, said, “ Sir, you give law to me, but 


398 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


“so will I to you. You shall have him, but, upon 
“ your honour, you shall not take his life.” The 
king embracing him said, “ Agreed.” Saith the king 
of Castile, “‘ Neither shall it dislike you, if I send 
“to him in such a fashion, as he may partly come 
“‘ with his own good will.” The king said, “ It was 
© well thought of; and if it pleased him, he would 
join with him, in sending to the earl a message 
“to that purpose.” They both sent severally, and 
mean while they continued feasting and pastimes. 
The king being, on his part, willing to have the earl 
sure before the King of Castile went; and the King 
ef Castile being as willing to seem to be enforced. 
The king also, with many wise and excellent per- 
suasions, did advise the King of Castile to be ruled 
by the counsel of his father-in-law Ferdinando; a 
prince so prudent, so experienced, so fortunate. 
The King of Castile, who was in no very good terms 
with his said father-in-law, answered, “ That if his 
“ father-in-law would suffer him to govern his king- 
“ doms, he should govern him.” 

There were immediately messengers sent from 
both kings to recall the Earl of Suffolk ; who, upon 
gentle words used to him, was soon charmed, and 
willing enough to return; assured of his life, and 
hoping of his liberty. He was brought through 
Flanders to Calais, and thence landed at Dover, and 
with sufficient guard delivered and received at the 
Tower of London. Mean while King Henry, to 
draw out the time, continued his feastings and enter- 
tainments, and after he had received the King of 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 399 


Castile into the fraternity of the Garter, and for a 
reciprocal had his son the prince admitted to the 
order of the Golden Fleece, he accompanied King 
Philip and his queen to the city of London, where © 
they were entertained with the greatest magnificence 
and triumph, that could be upon no greater warning. 
And as soon as the Earl of Suffolk had been con- 
veyed to the Tower, which was the serious part, the 
jollities had an end, and the kings took leave. 
Nevertheless during their being here, they in sub- 
stance concluded that treaty, which the Flemings 
term ‘“‘intercursus malus,” and bears date at Windsor; 
for that there be some things in it, more to the ad- 
vantage of the English than of them; especially, for 
that the free-fishing of the Duteh upon the coasts 
and seas of England, granted in the treaty of “ un- 
** decimo,” was not by this treaty confirmed. All ar- 
ticles that confirm former treaties being precisely and 
warily limited and confirmed to matter of commerce 
only, and not otherwise. 

It was observed, that the great tempest which 
drave Philip into England, blew down the golden 
eagle from the spire of Pauls, and in the fall it fell 
upon a sign of the black eagle, which was in Pauls 
church-yard, in the place where the school-house now 
standeth, and battered it, and brake it down: which 
was a strange stooping of a hawk upon a fowl. 
This the people interpreted to be an ominous prog- 
nostic upon the imperial house, which was, by ae 
pretation also, fulfilled upon Philip, the emperor's 
son, not only in the coal aster of the tempest, 


Pa 


400 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


but in that that followed. For Philip arriving into 
Spain, and attaining the possession of the kingdom 
of Castile without resistance, insomuch as Ferdi- 
nando, who had spoke so great before, was with 
difficulty admitted to the speech of his son-in-law, 
sickened soon after, and deceased. Yet after such 
time, as there was an observation by the wisest of 
that court, that if he had lived, his father would have 
gained upon him in that sort, as he would have go- 
verned his councils and designs, if not his affections. 
By this all Spain returned into the power of Ferdi- 
nando in state as it was before; the rather, in regard 
of the infirmity of Joan his daughter, who loving her 
husband, by whom she had many children, dearly 
well, and no less beloved of him, howsoever her 
father, to make Philip ill-beloved of the people of 
Spain, gave out that Philip used her not well, was 
unable in strength of mind to bear the grief of his 
decease, and fell distracted of her wits. Of which 
malady her father was thought no ways to endeavour 
the cure, the better to hold his regal power in Cas- 
tile. So that as the felicity of Charles the Eighth 
was said to be a dream; so the adversity of Ferdi- 
nando was said likewise to be a dream, it passed over 
SO soon. 

About this time the king was desirous to bring 
into the house of Lancaster celestial honour, and 
became suitor to Pope Julius, to canonize King 
Henry the Sixth for a saint, the rather, in respect of 
that his famous prediction of the king’s own assump- 
tion to the crown. Julius referred the matter, as 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 401 


the manner is, to certain cardinals, to take the veri- 
fication of his holy acts and miracles: but it died 
under the reference. The general opinion was, that 
Pope Julius was too dear, and that the king would 
not come to his rates. But it is more probable, that 
that pope, who was extremely jealous of the dignity 
of the see of Rome, and of the acts thereof, knowing 
that King Henry the Sixth was reputed in the world 
abroad but for a simple man, was afraid it would but 
diminish the estimation of that kind of honour, if 
there were not a distance kept between innocents 
and saints. 

The same year likewise there proceeded a treaty 
of marriage between the king and the Lady Marga- 
ret, Duchess Dowager of Savoy, only daughter to 
Maximilian, and sister to the King of Castile ; a lady 
wise, and of great good fame. This matter had 
been in speech between the two kings at their meet- 
ing, but was soon after resumed; and therein was 
employed for his first piece the king’s then chaplain, 
and after the great prelate, Thomas Wolsey. It 
was in the end concluded, with great and ample con- 
ditions for the king, but with promise de futuro 
only. It may be the king was the rather induced 
unto it, for that he had heard more and more of the 
marriage to go on between his great friend and 
ally Ferdinando of Arragon, and Madame de Fois, 
whereby that king began to piece with the French 
king, from whom he had been always before severed. 
So fatal a thing it is, for the greatest and straitest 
amities of kings at one time or other, to have a little 


4.02 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


of the wheel; nay, there is a farther tradition in 
Spain, though not with us, that the King of Arragon, 
after he knew that the marriage between Charles, 
Prince of Castile, and Mary, the king’s second 
daughter, went roundly on, (which though it was first 
moved by the King of Arragon, yet it was after- 
wards wholly advanced and brought to perfection 
by Maximilian, and the friends on that side,) entered 
into a jealousy that the king did aspire to the go- 
vernment of Castilia, as administrator during the 
minority of his son-in-law; as if there should have 
been a competition of three for that government ; 
Ferdinando, grandfather on the mother’s side ; Maxi- 
milian, grandfather on the father’s side; and King 
Henry, father-in-law to the young prince. Certainly 
it is not unlike, but the king’s government, carrying 
the young prince with him, would have been per- 
haps more welcome to the Spaniards than that of 
the other two. For the nobility of Castilia, that so 
lately put out the King of Arragon in favour of King 
Philip, and had discovered themselves so far, could 
not be but in a secret distrust and distaste of that 
king. And as for Maximilian, upon twenty respects 
he could not have been the man. But this purpose 
of the king’s seemeth to me, considering the king’s 
safe courses, never found to be enterprizing or adven- 
turous, not greatly probable, except he should have 
-had a desire to breathe warmer, because he had ill 
lungs. This marriage with Margaret was protracted 
from time to time, in respect of the infirmity of the 
king, who now in the two and twentieth of his reign 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 403 


began to be troubled with the gout; but the de- 
fluxion taking also into his breast, wasted his lungs, 
so that thrice in a year, in a kind of return, and 
especially in the spring, he had great fits and labours 
of the phthisic : nevertheless, he continued to intend 
business with as great diligence, as before in his 
health: yet so, as upon this warning he did likewise 
now more seriously think of the world to come, 
and of making himself a saint, as well as King 
Henry the Sixth, by treasure better employed, than 
to be given to Pope Julius; for this year he gave 
greater alms than accustomed, and discharged all 
prisoners about the city, that lay for fees or debts 
under forty shillings. He did also make haste with 
religious foundations; and in the year following, 

which was the three and twentieth, finished that of 
gihe Savoy. And hearing also of the bitter cries of 
“his people against the oppressions of Dudley and 
Empson, and their complices ; partly by devout per- 
sons about him, and partly by public sermons, the 
preachers doing their duty therein, he was touched 
with great remorse for the same. Nevertheless 
Empson and Dudley, though they could not but 
hear of these scruples in the king’s conscience ; yet, 
as if the king’s soul and his money were in several 
offices, that the one was not to intermeddle with the 
other, went on with as great rage as ever. For the 
same three and twentieth year was there a sharp 
prosecution against Sir William Capel now the 
second time ; and this was for matters of misgovern- 
ment in his mayoralty: the great matter being, that 
in some payments he had taken knowledge of false 


404 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


moneys, and did not his diligence to examine and 
beat it out who were the offenders. For this and 
some other things laid to his charge, he was con- 
demned to pay two thousand pounds; and being a 
man of stomach, and hardened by his former troubles» 
refused to pay a mite; and belike used some unto- 
ward speeches of the proceedings, for which he was 
sent to the Tower, and there remained till the king’s 
death. Knesworth likewise, that had been lately 
Mayor of London, and both his sheriffs, were for 
abuses in their offices questioned, and imprisoned, 
and delivered upon one thousand four hundred 
pounds paid. Hawis, an alderman of London, was 
put in trouble, and died with thought and anguish, 
before his business came to an end. ‘Sir Lawrence 
Ailmer, who had likewise been Mayor of London, 
and his two sheriffs, were put to the fine of one 
thousand pounds. And Sir Lawrence, for refusing 
to make payment, was committed to prison, where 
he stayed till Empson himself was committed in his 
place. 

It is no marvel, if the faults were so light, and the 
rates so heavy, that the king’s treasure of store, that 
he left at his death, most of it in secret places, under 
his own key and keeping, at Richmond, amounted, 
as by tradition it is reported to have done, unto the 
sum of near eighteen hundred thousand pounds 
sterling; a huge mass of money even for these times. 

The last act of state that concluded this king’s 
temporal felicity, was the conclusion of a glorious 
match between his daughter Mary, and Charles, 
Prince of Castile, afterwards the great emperor, both 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 405 


being of tender years: which treaty was perfected 
by Bishop Fox, and other his commissioners at Ca- 
lais, the year before the king’s death. In which 
alliance, it seemeth, he himself took so high con- 
tentment, as in a letter which he wrote thereupon 
to the city of London, commanding all possible de- 
monstrations of joy to be made for the same, he ex- 
presseth himself, as if he thought he had built a wall 
of brass about his kingdom: when he had for his 
sons-in-law, a king of Scotland, and a prince of Cas- 
tile and Burgundy. So as now there was nothing 
to be added to this great king’s felicity, being at the 
top of all worldly bliss, in regard of the high mar- 
riages of his children, his great renown throughout 
Europe, and his scarce credible riches, and the per- 
petual constancy of his prosperous successes, but an 
opportune death, to withdraw him from any future 
blow of fortune; which certainly (in regard of the 
great hatred of his people, and the title of his son, 
being then come to eighteen years of age, and being 
a bold prince and liberal, and that gained upon the 
people by his very aspect and presence) had not been 
impossible to have come upon him. 

To crown also the last year of his reign, as well 
as his first, he did an act of piety, rare, and worthy 
to be taken into imitation. For he granted forth a 
general pardon: as expecting a second coronation 
in a better kingdom. He did also declare in his 
will, that his mind was, that restitution should be 
made of those sums which had been unjustly taken 
by his officers. 


406 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


And thus this Solomon of England, for Solomon 
also was too heavy upon his people in exactions, hav- 
ing lived two and fifty years, and thereof reigned 
three and twenty years, and eight months, being in 
perfect memory, and ina most blessed mind, in a 
great calm of a consuming sickness passed to a 
better world, the two and twentieth of April, 1508, 
at his palace of Richmond, which himself had 
built. | 
This king, to speak of him in terms equal to his 
deserving, was oneof the best sort of wonders ; a won- 
der for wise men. He had parts, both in his virtues 
and his fortune, not so fit for a common-place, as for 
observation. Certainly he was religious, both in 
his affection and observance. But as he could see 
clear, for those times, through superstition, so he 
would be blinded, now and then, by human policy. 
He advanced church-men: he was tender in the pri- 
vilege of sanctuaries, though they wrought him much 
mischief. He built and endowed many religious 
foundations, besides his memorable hospital of the 
Savoy : and yet was hea great alms-giver in secret ; 
which shewed, that his works in public were dedi- 
cated rather to God’s glory than his own. He pro- 
fessed always to love and seek peace; and it was 
his usual preface in his treaties, that when Christ 
came into the world, peace was sung; and when he 
went out of the world, peace was bequeathed. And 
this virtue could not proceed out of fear or softness ; 
for he was valiant and active, and therefore, no 
doubt, it was truly Christian and moral. Yet he 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 407 


knew the way to peace was not to seem to be desirous 
to avoid wars: therefore would he make offers and 
fames of wars, till he had mended the conditions of 
peace. It was also much, that one that was so great 
a lover of peace, should be so happy in war. For 
his arms, either in foreign or civil wars, were never 
unfortunate; neither did he know what a disaster 
meant. The war of his coming in, and the rebel- 
lions of the Earl of Lincoln, and the Lord Audley, 
were ended by victory. The wars of France and 
Scotland, by peaces sought at his hands. That of 
Britain, by accident of the duke’s death. The insur- 
rection of the Lord Lovel, and that of Perkin at 
Exeter, and in Kent, by flight of the rebels before 
they came to blows. So that his fortune of arms 
was still inviolate; the rather sure, for that in the 
quenching of the commotions of his subjects, he ever 
went in person: sometimes reserving himself to back 
and second his lieutenants, but ever in action; and 
yet that was not merely forwardness, but partly 
distrust of others. 

He did much maintain and countenance his 
laws; which, nevertheless, was no impediment to 
him to work his will: for it was so handled, that 
neither prerogative nor profit went to diminution. 
And yet as he would sometimes strain up his laws to 
his prerogative,so would he also let down his preroga- 
tive to his parliament. For mint, and wars, and mar- 
tial discipline, things of absolute power, he would 
nevertheless bring to parliament. Justice was well ad- 
ministered in his time, save where the king was 


408 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


party : save also, that the council-table intermeddled 
too much with “ meum” and “tuum.” For it was a 
very court of justice during his time, especially in 
the beginning ; but in that part both of justice and 
policy, which is the durable part, and cut, as it were, 
in brass or marble, which is the making of good 
laws, he did excel. And with his justice, he was 
also a merciful prince : as in whose time, there were 
but three of the nobility that suffered ; the Earl of 
Warwick, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Lord 
Audley: though the first two were instead of num- 
bers, in the dislike and obloquy of the people. But 
there were never so great rebellions, expiated with 
so little blood, drawn by the hand of justice, as the 
two rebellions of Blackheath and Exeter. As for 
the severity used upon those which were taken in 
Kent, it was but upon a scum of people. His par- 
dons went ever both before and after his sword. But 
then he had withal a strange kind of interchanging 
of large and unexpected pardons, with severe execu- 
tions; which, his wisdom considered, could not be 
imputed to any inconstancy or inequality ; but either 
to some reason which we do not now know, or to a 
principle he had set unto himself, that he would vary, 
and try both ways in turn. But the less blood he 
drew, the more he took of treasure. And, as some 
construed it, he was the more sparing in the one, 
that he might be the more pressing in the other ; for 
both would have been intolerable. Of nature as- 
suredly he coveted to accumulate treasure, and was 
a little poor in admiring riches. The people, into 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. _ 409 


whom there is infused, for the preservation of mo- 
narchies, a natural desire to discharge their princes, 
though it be with the unjust charge of their coun- 
sellors and ministers, did impute this unto cardinal 
Morton and Sir Reginald Bray, who, as it after ap- 
peared, as counsellors of ancient authority with him, 
did so second his humours, as nevertheless they did 
temper them. Whereas Empson and Dudley 
that followed, being persons that had no repu- 
tation with him, otherwise than by the servile fol- 
lowing of his bent, did not give way only, as the first 
did, but shape him way to those extremities, for 
which himself was touched with remorse at his 
death, and which his successor renounced, and 
sought to purge. This excess of his had at that 
time many glosses and interpretations. Some 
thought the continual rebellions wherewith he had 
been vexed, had made him grow to hate his people: 
some thought it was done to pull down their sto- 
machs, and to keep them low: some, for that he 
would leave his son a golden fleece : some suspected 
he had some high design upon foreign parts: 
but those perhaps shall come nearest the truth, that 
fetch not their reasons so far off: but rather impute 
it to nature, age, peace, and a mind fixed upon no 
other ambition or pursuit. Whereunto I should add, 
that having every day occasion to take notice of the 
necessities and shifts for money of other great princes 
abroad, it did the better, by comparison, set off to 
him the felicity of full coffers. As to his expending 
of treasure, he never spared charge which his affairs 


410 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


required: and in his buildings was magnificent, but 
his rewards were very limited: so that his liberality 
was rather upon his own state and memory than 
upon the deserts of others. 

He was of an high mind, and loved his own will, 
and his own way; as one that revered himself, and 
would reign indeed. Had he been a private man, 
he would have been termed proud. But in a wise 
prince, it was but keeping of distance, which indeed 
he did towards all; not admitting any near or full 
approach, either to his power, or to his secrets, for 
he was governed by none. His queen, notwithstand- 
ing she had presented him with divers children, and 
with a crown also, though he would not acknowledge 
it, could do nothing with him. His mother he re- 
verenced much, heard little. For any person agree- 
able to him for society, such as was Hastings to 
King Edward the Fourth, or Charles Brandon after 
to King Henry the Eighth, he had none: except we 
should account for such persons, Fox, and Bray, and 
Empson, because they were so much with him: but 
it was but asthe instrument is much with the work- 
man. He had nothing in him of vain glory, but yet 
kept state and majesty to the height ; being sensible, 
that majesty maketh the people bow, but vain glory 
boweth to them. 

To his confederates abroad he was constant and 
just, but not open. But rather such was his inquiry, 
and such his closeness, as they stood in the light to- 
wards him, and he stood in the dark to them. Yet 
without strangeness, but with a semblance of mutual 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 4ll 


communication of affairs. As for little envies, or 
emulations upon foreign princes, which are frequent 
with many kings, he had never any: but went sub- 
stantially to his own business. Certain it is, that 
though his reputation was great at home, yet it was 
greater abroad. For foreigners that could not see 
the passages of affairs, but made their judgments 
upon the issues of them, noted that he was ever in 
strife, and ever aloft. It grew also from the airs 
which the princes and states abroad received from 
their ambassadors and agents here; which were 
attending the court in great number: whom he did 
not only content with courtesy, reward, and private- 
ness: but, upon such conferences as passed with 
them, put them in admiration, to find his universal 
insight into the affairs of the world: which though 
he did suck chiefly from themselves, yet that which 
he had gathered from them all, seemed admirable to 
every one. So that they did write ever to their 
superiors in high terms, concerning his wisdom and 
art of rule ; nay, when they were returned, they did 
commonly maintain intelligence with him. Such a 
dexterity be had to impropriate to himself all 
foreign instruments. 

He was careful and liberal to obtain good intel- 
ligence from all parts abroad: wherein he did not 
only use his interest in the liegers here, and _ his 
pensioner, which he had both in the court of Rome, 
and other the courts of Christendom; but the in- 
dustry and vigilancy of his own ambassadors in 


foreign parts. For which purpose his instructions 
VOL. 3. BB 


412 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


were ever extreme, curious, and articulate: and in 
them more articles touching inquisition, than touch- 
ing negotiation : requiring likewise from his ambas- 
sadors an answer, in particular distinct articles 
respectively to his questions. 

As for his secret spials, which he did employ 
both at home and abroad, by them to discover what 
practices and conspiracies were against him, surely 
his case required it: he had such moles perpetually 
working and casting to undermine him. Neither 
can it be reprehended: for if spials be lawful 
against lawful enemies, much more against conspi- 
rators and traitors. But indeed to give them 
credence by oaths or curses, that cannot be well 
maintained : for those are too holy vestments for a 
disguise. Yet surely there was this further good 
in his employing of these flies and familiars ; that 
as the use of them was cause that many conspiracies 
were revealed, so the fame and suspicion of them 
kept, no doubt, many conspiracies from being at- 
tempted. 

Towards his queen he was nothing uxorious, 
nor scarce indulgent: but companiable and respec- 
tive, and without jealousy. ‘Towards his children 
he was full of paternal affection, careful of their 
education, aspirmg to their high advancement, 
regular to see that they should not want of any due 
honour and respect, but not greatly willing to cast 
any popular lustre upon them. 

To his council he did refer much, and sat oft in 
person: knowing it to be the way to assist his 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY YVIl. 413 


power, and inform his judgement. In which re- 
spect also he was fairly patient of liberty, both of 
advice, and of vote, till himself were declared. He 
kept a strait hand on his nobility, and chose rather 
to advance clergymen and lawyers, which were more 
obsequious to him, but had less interest in the 
people; which made for his absoluteness, but not 
for his safety. Insomuch as, I am persuaded, it was 
one of the causes of his troublesome reign; for that 
his nobles, though they were loyal and obedient, 
yet did not co-operate with him, but let every man 
go his own way. He was not afraid of an able man, 
as Lewis the Eleventh was; but contrariwise, he 
was served by the ablest men that were to be found; 
without which his affairs could not have prospered 
as they did. For war, Bedford, Oxford, Surrey, 
D’Aubigny, Brooke, Poynings: for other affairs, 
Morton, Fox, Bray, the Prior of Lanthony, Warham, 
Urswick, Hussey, Frowick, and others. Neither 
did he care how cunning they were that he did em- 
ploy: for he thought himself to have the master- 
reach. And as he chose well, so he held them up 
well; for it is a strange thing, that though he were 
a dark prince, and infinitely suspicious, and his times 
full of secret conspiracies and troubles: yet in 
twenty-four years’ reign, he never put down, or dis- 
composed counsellor, or near servant, save only 
Stanley, the lord chamberlain. As for the disposi- 
tion of his subjects in general towards him, it stood 
thus with him; that of the three affections, which 
naturally tie the hearts of the subjects to their sove- 


414 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


reigns, love, fear, and reverence; he had the last in 
height, the second in good measure, and so little of 
the first, as he was beholden to the other two. 

He was a prince, sad, serious, and full of 
thoughts, and secret observations, and full of notes 
and memorials of his own hand, especially touching 
persons. As, whom to employ, whom to reward, 
whom to enquire of, whom to beware of, what were 
the dependencies, what were the factions, and the 
like; keeping, as it were, a journal of his thoughts. 
There is to this day a merry tale; that his monkey, 
set on as it was thought by one of his chamber, tore 
his principal note-book all to pieces, when by chance 
it lay forth: whereat the court, which liked not 
those pensive accounts, was almost tickled with 
sport. 

He was indeed full of apprehensions and suspi- 
cions; but as he did easily take them, so he did 
easily check them and master them; whereby they 
were not dangerous, but troubled himself more than 
others. It is true, his thoughts were so many, as 
they could not well always stand together ; but that 
which did good one way, did hurt another. Neither 
did he at sometimes weigh them aright in their pro- 
portions. Certainly, that rumour which did him so 
much mischief, that the Duke of York should be 
saved and alive, was, at the first, of his own nou- 
rishing ; because he would have more reason not to 
reign in the right of his wife. He was affable, and 
both well and fair-spoken; and would use strange 
sweetness and blandishments of words, where he 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 415 


desired to effect or persuade any thing that he took 
to heart. He was rather studious than learned ; 
reading most books that were of any worth, in the 
French tongue, yet he understood the Latin, as ap- 
peareth in that Cardinal Hadrian and others, who 
could very well have written French, did use to 
write to him in Latin. 

For his pleasures, there is no news of them; and 
yet by his instructions to Marsin and Stile, touching 
the Queen of Naples, it seemeth he could interro- 
gate well touching beauty. He did by pleasures, as 
great princes do by banquets, come and look a little 
upon them, and turn away. For never prince was 
more wholly given to his affairs, nor in them more 
of himself: insomuch as in triumphs of justs and 
tourneys, and balls, and masks, which they then 
called disguises, he was rather a princely and gentle 
spectator, than seemed much to be delighced. 

No doubt, in him, as in all men, and most of all 
in kings, his fortune wrought upon his nature, and 
his nature upon his fortune. He attained to the 
crown, not only from a private fortune, which might 
endow him with moderation; but also from the for- 
tune of an exiled man, which had quickened in him 
all seeds of observation and industry. And his times. 
being rather prosperous than calm, had raised his 
confidence by success, but almost marred his nature 
by troubles. His wisdom, by often evading from 
perils, was turned rather into a dexterity to deliver 
himself from dangers, when they pressed him, than 
into a providence to preyent and remove them afar 


416 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 


off. And even in nature, the sight of his mind was 
like some sights of eyes; rather strong at hand, 
than to carry afar off. For his wit increased upon 
the occasion: and so much the more, if the oc- 
casion were sharpened by danger. Again, whether 
it were the shortness of his foresight, or the 
strength of his will, or the dazzling of his sus- 
picions, or what it was, certain it is, that the 
perpetual troubles of his fortunes, there being no 
more matter out of which they grew, could not 
have been without some great defects and main 
errors in his nature, customs, and proceedings, which 
he had enough to do to save and help with a thou- 
sand little industries and watches. But those do 
best appear in the story itself. Yet take him with 
all his defects, if a man should compare him with the 
kings his concurrents in France and Spain, he shall 
find him more politic than Lewis the Twelfth of 
France, and more entire and sincere than Ferdinando 
of Spain. But if you shall change Lewis the 
Twelfth for Lewis the Eleventh, who lived a little 
before, then the consort is more perfect. For that 
Lewis the Eleventh, Ferdinando, and Henry, may 
be esteemed for the “ tres magi’ of kings of those 
ages. To conclude, if this king did no greater 
matters, it was long of himself: for what he minded 
he compassed. 

He was a comely personage, a little above just 
stature, well and straight limbed, but slender. His 
countenance was reverend, and a little like a church- 
man: and as it was not strange or dark, so neither 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII. 417 


was it winning or pleasing, but as the face of one 
well disposed. But it was to the disadvantage of 
the painter, for it was best when he spake. 

His worth may bear a tale or two, that may put 
upon him somewhat that may seem divine. When 
the Lady Margaret his mother had divers great 
suitors for marriage, she dreamed one night, that 
one in the likeness of a bishop in pontifical habit did 
tender her Edmund, Earl of Richmond, the king’s 
father, for her husband, neither had she ever any 
child but the king, though she had three husbands. 
One day when King Henry the Sixth, whose inno- 
cency gave him holiness, was washing his hands at 
a great feast, and cast his eye upon King Henry, 
then a young youth, he said; “ This is the lad that 
shall possess quietly that, that we now strive for.” 
But that, that was truly divine in him, was that he 
had the fortune of a true Christian, as well as of a 
great king in living exercised, and dying repentant : 
so as he had an happy warfare in both conflicts, both 
of sin and the cross. 

He was born at Pembroke castle, and lieth buried 
at Westminster, in one of the stateliest and daintiest 
monuments of Europe, both for the chapel and for 
the sepulchre. So that he dwelleth more richly 
dead, in the monument of his tomb, than he did alive 
in Richmond, or any of his palaces. I could wish he 
did the like in this monument of his fame. 


THE 
HISTORY OF THE REIGN 
OF 


KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 


Arter the decease of that wise and fortunate King, 
Henry the Seventh, who died in the height of his 
prosperity, there followed, as useth to do, when the 
sun setteth so exceeding clear, one of the fairest 
mornings of a kingdom that hath been known in this 
land or any where else. A young king, about 
eighteen years of age, for stature, strength, making, 
and beauty, one of the goodliest persons of his time. 
And though he were given to pleasure, yet he was 
likewise desirous of glory ; so that there was a pas- 
sage open in his mind, by glory, for virtue. Nei- 
ther was he unadorned with learning, though therein 
he came short of his brother Arthur. He had never 
any the least pique, difference, or jealousy with the 
king his father, which might give any occasion of 
altering court or council upon the change; but all 
things passed in a still. He was the first heir of the 
white and red rose; so that there was no discon- 
tented party now left in the kingdom, but all men’s 
hearts turned towards him: and not only their hearts, 
but their eyes also; for he was the only son of the 


kingdom. He had no brother; which though it be 


HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIII. 419 


a comfortable thing for kings to have, yet it draweth 
the subjects” eyes a little aside. And yet being a 
married man in those young years, it promised hope 
of speedy issue to succeed in the crown. Neither 
was there any queen-mother, who might share any 
way in the government, or clash with his counsellors 
for authority, while the king intended his pleasure. 
No such thing as any great and mighty subject, who 
might any wise eclipse or overshade the imperial 
power. And for the people and state in general, 
they were in such lowness of obedience, as subjects 
were like to yield, who had lived almost four and 
tweuty years under so politic a king as his father ; 
being also one who came partly in by the sword; 
and had so high courage in all points of regality ; 
and was ever victorious in rebellions and seditions of 
the people. The crown extremely rich, and full of 
treasure, and the kingdom like to be so in a short 
time. For there was no war, no dearth, no stop of 
trade, or commerce: it was only the crown which 
had sucked too hard, and now being full, and upon 
the head of a young king, was like to draw less. 
Lastly, he was inheritor of his father’s reputation, 
which was great throughout the world. He had 
strait alliance with the two neighbour states, an 
ancient enemy in former times, and an ancient friend, 
Scotland and Burgundy. He had peace and amity 
with France, under the assurance, not only of treaty 
and league, but of necessity and inability in the 
French to do him hurt, in respect that the French 
king’s designs were wholly bent upon Italy : so that 


420 HISTORY OF KING HENRY VIII. 


a= 


it may be truly said, there had scarcely been seen, 
or known, in many ages, such a rare concurrence of 
signs and promises, of a happy and flourishing reign — 
to ensue, as were now met in this young king, called 
after his father’s name, Henry the Eighth .... « 


THE 
BEGINNING 


OF THE 


HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 


By the decease of Elizabeth, Queen of England, the 
issues of King Henry the Eighth failed, being spent 
in one generation and three successions. For that 
king, though he were one of the goodliest persons of 
his time, yet he left only by his six wives three chil- 
dren ; who reigning successively, and dying childless, 
made place to the line of Margaret, his eldest sister, 
married to James the Fourth, King of Scotland, 
descended of the same Margaret both by father and 
mother : so that by a rare event in the pedigrees of 
kings, it seemed as if the divine Providence, to 
extinguish and take away all envy and note of a 
stranger, had doubled upon his person, within the 
circle of one age, the royal blood of England by both 
parents. This succession drew towards it the eyes 
of all men, being one of the most memorable acci- 
dents that had happened a long time in the Christian 
world. For the kingdom of France having been 
reunited in the age before in all the provinces 
thereof formerly dismembered: and the kingdom of 
Spain being, of more fresh memory, united and made 
entire, by the annexing of Portugal in the person of 


422 HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 


Philip the Second; there remained but this third 
and last union, for the counterpoising of the power 
of these three great monarchies; and the disposing 
of the affairs of Europe thereby to a more assured 
and universal peace and concord. And this event 
did hold men’s observations and discourses the more, 
because the island of Great Britain, divided from the 
rest of the world, was never before united in itself 
under one king, notwithstanding also that the 
uniting of them had been in former times indus- 
triously attempted both by war and treaty. There- 
fore it seemed a manifest work of providence, and a 
case of reservation for these times; insomuch that | 
the vulgar conceived that now there was an end 
given, and a consummation to superstitious prophe- 
cies, the belief of fools, but the talk sometimes of 
wise men, and to an ancient tacit expectation, which 
had by tradition been infused and inveterated into 
men’s minds. But as the best divinations and pre- 
dictions are the politic and probable foresight and 
conjectures of wise men, so in this matter the provi- 
dence of King Henry the Seventh was in all men’s 
mouths; who being one of the deepest and most 
prudent princes of the world, upon the deliberation 
concerning the marriage of his eldest daughter into 
Scotland, had, by some speech uttered by him, 
shewed himself sensible and almost prescient of 
this event. 

Neither did there want a concurrence of divers 
rare external circumstances, besides the virtues and 


condition of the person, which gave great reputation 


HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 423 


to this succession. A king in the strength of his 
years, supported with great alliances abroad, esta- 
blished with royal issue at home, at peace with all the 
world, practised in the regiment of such a kingdom, 
as might rather enable a king by variety of acci- 
dents, than corrupt him with affluence or vain-glory ; 
and one that besides his universal capacity and judge- 
ment, was notably exercised and practised in matters 
of religion and the church: which in these times, 
by the confused use of both swords, are become so 
intermixed with considerations of estate, as most of 
the counsels of sovereign princes or republics depend 
upon them: but nothing did more fill foreign na- 
tions with admiration and expectation of his succes- 
sion, than the wonderful, and, by them, unexpected 
consent of all estates and subjects of England, for 
the receiving of the king without the least scruple, 
pause, or question. For it had been generally dis- 
persed by the fugitives beyond the seas, who, partly 
to apply themselves to the ambition of foreigners, 
and partly to give estimation and value to their own 
employments, used to represent the state of England 
in a false light, that after Queen Elizabeth’s decease 
there must follow in England nothing but confu- 
sions, interreigns, and perturbations of estate, likely 
far to exceed the ancient calamities of the civil wars 
between the houses of Lancaster and York, by how 
much more the dissentions were like to be more 
mortal and bloody, when foreign competition should 
be added to domestical, and divisions for religion to 
matter of title to the crown. And in special, Par- 


4.24. HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 


sons the Jesuit, under a disguised name, had not long 
before published an express treatise, wherein, whe- 
ther his malice made him believe his own fancies, or 
whether he thought it the fittest way to move sedi- 
tion, like evil spirits, which seem to foretel the tem- 
pest they mean to move, he laboured to display and 
give colour to all the vain pretences and dreams of 
succession which he could imagine ; and thereby had 
possessed many abroad that knew not the affairs 
here with those his vanities. Neither wanted there 
here within this realm, divers persons both wise and 
well affected, who, though they doubted not of the 
undoubted right, yet setting before themselves the 
waves of people’s hearts, guided no less by sud- 
den and temporary winds, than by the natural course 
and motion of the waters, were not without fear 
what might be the event. For Queen Elizabeth 
being a princess of extreme caution, and yet one that 
loved admiration above safety; and knowing the 
declaration of a successor might in point of safety 
be disputable, but in point of admiration and respect 
assuredly to her disadvantage ; had, from the be- 
ginning, set it down for a maxim of estate, to impose 
a silence touching succession. Neither was it only 
reserved as a secret of estate, but restrained by se- 
vere laws, that no man should presume to give opi- 
nion, or maintain argument touching the same: so, 
though the evidence of right drew all the subjects of 
the land to think one thing; yet the fear of danger 
of law made no man privy to other’s thought. And 
therefore it rejoiced all men to see so fair a morning 


‘HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 425 


of akingdom, and to be thoroughly secured of former 
apprehensions ; as a man that awaketh out of a fear- 
ful dream. But so it was, that not only the con- 
sent, but the applause and joy was infinite, and not 
to be expressed, throughout the realm of England 
upon this succession: whereof the consent, no doubt, 
may be truly ascribed to the clearness of the right ; 
but the general joy, alacrity, and gratulation, were 
the effects of differing causes. For Queen Elizabeth, 
although she had the use of many both virtues and 
demonstrations, that might draw and knit unto her 
the hearts of her people; yet nevertheless carrying a 
hand restrained in gift, and strained in points of pre- 
rogative, could not answer the votes either of servants 
or subjects to a full contentment; especially in her 
latter days, when the continuance of her reign, which 
extended to five and forty years, might discover in 
people their natural desire and inclination towards 
change: so that a new court and a new reign were 
not to many unwelcome. Many were glad, and es- 
pecially those of settled estate and fortune, that the 
fears and uncertainties were overblown, and that the 
dye was cast. Others, that had made their way with 
the king, or offered their service in the time of the 
former Queen, thought now the time was come for 
which they had prepared: and generally all such as 
had any dependence upon the late Earl of Essex, 
who had mingled the service of his own ends with 
the popular pretence of advancing the king’s title, 
made account their cause was amended. Again, 
such as might misdoubt they had given the king any 


426 HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 


occasion of distaste, did contend by their forwardness 
and confidence to shew, it was but their fastness to 
the former government, and that those affections 
ended with the time. The papists nourished their 
hopes, by collating the case of the papists in Eng- 
land, and under Queen Elizabeth, and the case of the 
papists in Scotland under the king : interpreting that 
the condition of them in Scotland was the less griev- 
ous, and divining of the king’s government here ac- 
cordingly: besides the comfort they ministered to 
themselves from the memory of the Queen his mo- 
ther. The ministers, and those which stood for the 
presbytery, thought their cause had more sympathy 
with the discipline of Scotland than the hierarchy of 
England, and so took themselves to be a degree 
nearer their desires. Thus had every condition of 
persons some contemplation of benefit, which they 
promised themselves; over-reaching perhaps, ac- 
cording to the nature of hope, but yet not without 
some probable ground of conjecture. At which time 
also there came forth in print the king’s book, inti- 
tuled, Baciwnty Asp : containing matter of instruction 
to the prince his son touching the office of a king ; 
which book falling into every man’s hand, filled the 
whole realm, as with a good perfume or incense, be- 
fore the king’s coming in; for being excellently 
written, and having nothing of affectation, it did not 
only satisfy better than particular reports touching 
the king’s disposition, but far exceeded any formal 
or curious edict or declaration, which could have been 
devised of that nature, wherewith the princess in the 


_ HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. 427 


beginning of their reigns do use to grace themselves, 
or at least express themselves gracious in the eyes of 
their people. And this was for the general the 
state and constitution of men’s minds upon this 
change; the actions themselves passed in this 
manner. 


e . e c e . . ” . ° . we Se. Oo Oe BO OO OO a es 6. es ele - . . 


The rest is wanting. 


VOL. 3. C Cc 


OF 
THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


[Written about the year 1580.] 


In the consideration of the present state of Christen- 
dom, depending on the inclinations and qualities of 
the princes, governors of the same, first the person 
of the pope, acknowledged for supreme of the 
princes catholic, may be brought forth. 

Gregory XIII. of the age of seventy years, 
by surname Boncompagno, born in Bolonia of the 
meanest state of the people, his father a shoemaker 
by occupation; of no great learning nor understand- 
ing, busy rather in practice, than desirous of wars, 
and that rather to further the advancement of his 
son and his house, a respect highly regarded of all 
the popes, than of any inclination of nature, the 
which, yet in these years, abhorreth not his secret 
pleasures. Howbeit, two things especially have set 
so sharp edge to him, whereby he doth bend himself 
so vehemently against religion. The one is a mere 
necessity, the other the solicitation of the King of 
Spain. For, if we consider duly the estate of the 
present time, we shall find that he is not so much 
carried with the desire to suppress our religion, as 
driven with the fear of the downfal of his own, if in 
time it be not upheld and restored. 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 429 


The reasons be these: he seeth the King of 
Spain already in years, and worn with labour and 
troubles, that there is little hope in him of long life. 
And he failing, there were likely to ensue great 
alterations of state in all his dominions, the which 
should be joined with the like in religion, especially 
in this divided time, and in Spain, already so for- 
ward, as the fury of the inquisition can scarce 
keep in. 

In France, the state of that church seemeth to 
depend on the sole life of the king now reigning, 
being of a weak constitution, full of infirmities, not 
likely to have long life, and quite out of hope of any 
issue. Of the Duke of Anjou he doth not assure 
himself; besides the opinion conceived of the weak- 
ness of the complexion of all that race, giving neither 
hope of length of life nor of children. And the next 
to the succession make already profession of the 
reformed religion, besides the increase thereof daily 
in France; England and Scotland are already, God 
be thanked, quite reformed, with the better part of 
Germany. And because the queen’s majesty hath 
that reputation to be the defender of the true reli- 
gion and faith; against her majesty, as the head of 
the faithful, is the drift of all their mischiefs. 

The King of Spain having erected, in his con- 
ceit, a monarchy, wherein seeking reputation in the 
protection of religion, this conjunction with the pope 
is as necessary to him for the furtherance of his © 
purposes, as to the pope behoveful for the advancing 
of his house, and for his authority; the King of 


430 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


Spain having already bestowed on the pope’s son, de- 
gree of title and of office, with great revenues. To 
encourage the pope herein, being head of the church, 
they set before him the analogy of the name Gre- 
gory, saying, that we were first under a Gregory 
brought to the faith, and by a Gregory are again to 
be reduced to the obedience of Rome. 

A prophecy likewise is found out that fore- 
telleth, “the dragon sitting in the chair of Peter, 
“ great things should be brought to pass.” 

Thus is the King of France solicited against 
those of the religion in France ; the emperor against 
those in his dominions; divisions set in Germany ; 
the Low Countries miserably oppressed ; and daily 
attempts against her majesty, both by force and 
practice; hereto serve the seminaries, where none 
are now admitted, but those who take the oath 
against her majesty. 

The sect of the Jesuits are special instruments to 
alienate the people from her majesty, so faction, 
and to absolve them of the oath of obedience, and 
repare the way to rebellion and revolt. 

Besides, for confirmation of their own religion 
they have used some reformation of the clergy, and 
brought in catechizing. 


TO GO FORTHWITH THE PRINCES OF ITALY, NEXT IN 
SITUATION. 


The great Duke of Tuscany, Francisco de 
Medici, son to Cosmo, and the third duke of that 
family and province; of the age of forty years, of 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 431 


disposition severe and sad, rather than manly and 
grave; no princely port or behaviour more than a 
great justicer;- inclined to peace, and gathering 
money. All Tuscany is subject unto him, wherein 
were divers commonwealths ; whereof the chief were 
Florence, Siena, and Pisa, Prato, and Pistoia, saving 
Lucca, and certain forts on the sea-coast, held by 
the King of Spain. 

He retaineth in his service few, and they stran- 
gers, to whom he giveth pensions. In all his citadels 
he hath garrison of Spaniards, except at Siena: in 
housekeeping spendeth little, being as it were in 
pension, agreeing for so much the year with a 
citizen of Florence for his diet : he has a small guard 
of Swissers, and when he rideth abroad a guard of 
forty light horsemen. The militia of his country 
amounteth to forty thousand soldiers, to the which 
he granteth leave to wear their weapons on the holy 
days, and other immunities. Besides, he enter- 
taineth certain men of arms, to the which he giveth 
Seven crowns the month. He also maintaineth seven 
galleys, the which serve under his knights, erected 
by his father in Pisa, of the order of St. Stephano = 
of these galleys three go every year in chase. 

His common exercise is in distillations, and in 
trying of conclusions, the which he doth exercise in 
a house called Cassino in Florence, where he spendeth 
the most part of the day; giving ear in the mean 
season to matters of affairs, and conferring with his 
chief officers. His revenues are esteemed to amount 
to a million and a half of crowns, of the which 


432 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


spending half a million, he layeth up yearly one 
million. But certainly he is the richest prince in 
all Europe of coin. The form of his government is 
absolute, depending only of his will and pleasure, 
though retaining in many things the ancient officers 
and shew. But those magistrates resolve nothing 
without his express directions and pleasure. Privy 
council he useth none, but reposeth much his trust 
on sound secretaries, and conferreth chiefly with his 
wife, as his father did with one of his secretaries. 
For matter of examinations, one Corbolo hath the 
especial trust; he doth favour the people more than 
the nobility, because they do bear an old grudge to 
the gentlemen, and the people are the more in 
number, without whom the nobility can do nothing. 
One thing in him giveth great contentment to the 
subjects, that he vouchsafeth to receive and hear all 
their petitions himself. And in his absence from 
Florence, those that have suit do resort to the office, 
and there exhibit their bill endorsed; whereof 
within three days absolute answer is returned them, 
unless the matter be of great importance, then have 
they direction how to proceed. He is a great jus- 
ticer ; and for the ease of the people, and to have 
the better eye over justice, hath built hard by his 
palace a fair row of houses for all offices together in 
one place. 

Two years sithence he married la Signora 
Bianca his concubine, a Venetian of Casa Capelli, 
whereby he entered straiter amity with the Vene- 
tians : with the pope he had good intelligence, and 


* 
OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 433 


age of Signor Jacomo, the 
pope’s son, in Casa forza, “Ms 

To the emperor he is allied, his first wife being 
the Emperor Maximilian’s sister. 7: 

With Spain he is in strait league, and his mother 
was of the house of Toledo; his brother likewise, 
D. Pietro, married in the same house. With France 
he standeth at this present in some misliking 

With Ferrara always at jar, as with all the Dukes 
of Italy for the preseance in some controversy. 

All his revenues arise of taxes and customs : a 
domains are very small. | 

He hath by his first wife one son, of the age 
of four or five years, and four daughters; he hath 
a base child by this woman, and a base brother, 
D. Joanni, sixteen years of age, of great expec- 
tation. 

Two brothers, D. Pietro, and the cardinal. 

The Duke of Ferrara, Alfonso d’Este, the fifth 
duke, now about forty years of age; his first wife 
Lucretia, daughter to Cosmo de Medici, whom they 
say he poisoned ; his second, daughter to Ferdinand 
the emperor? his third wife now living, Anne 
daughter to the Duke of Mantua. He hath no child. 
The chief cities of his state are Ferrara, Modena, 
and Reggio: he is rich in money, growing, as the 
most of Italy, of exactions ; of all the princes of Italy 
alone inclineth to the French; with the pope hath 
some jar about the passage of ariver. The Vene- 
tians and he fall in great hatred ; with Florence hath 
enmity ; with Lucca little skirmishes every year for 
a castle he buildeth on their confines, to raise a 


434 OF THE STATE_OF EUROPE. 
; ca 


great toll in a strait passage, by reason of his mother 
a Guise. ee 

William, of the house of Gonsaga, the third Duke 
of Mantua; his wife Barbara, daughter to the Em- 
peror Ferdinand, by whom he hath a son of twenty- 
two years of age, and a daughter. His son is called 
Vincentio, his daughter Anne married of late to the 
Duke of Ferrara; his son likewise married a year 
sithence to the Prince of Parma’s daughter. The 
duke his self very deformed and crook-backed, well 
in years, Montferrat likewise appertaineth to him. 
Divers of his house have pension always, and serve 
the King of Spain ; his brother, the Duke of Nevers, 
remaineth in France. He only seeketh to maintain 
his estate and enrich himself; his greatest pleasure 
is in horses and building. 

The Duke of Urbin, Francesco Maria, of the 
house of Roveré, the second of that name, a prince 
of good behaviour and witty. In his state are seven 
reasonable fair cities; Pesaro, Augubio, Sinigaglia, 
Fossombrone, Sanleo, Cagli, Urbino; Pesaro and 
Sinigaglia are fortresses on the sea-side, Urbin and 
Sanleo on the Apennine, well fortified. He holdeth 
three provinces, Montefeltro, Massa Trebaria, and 
Vicariato di Mondavio. 

There have been good princes and valiant of that 
house, not so great exactors as the rest of Italy 
therefore better beloved oftheir subjects, which love 
restored their house, being displaced by Pope Leo X. 

His wife Leonora, sister to the Duke of Ferrara, 
by whom he hath no children, and now is divorced. 
He hath two sisters, the one married to the Duke of 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 435 


Gravina, the other to the Prince Bisignano, and a 
third is to marry, whose name is Lavinia. 

Ottaviano, first Duke of Castro, then of Came- 
rino, and after of Parma and Piacenza, with great 
trouble restored to his estate ; now is aged and liveth 
quietly: his wife Marguerite, daughter to Charles 
the Fifth, first wife to Alexander de Medici, first 
Duke of Florence. He hath one son called Alex- 
ander, now general for the King of Spain in the Low 
Countries ; his daughter Vittoria was mother to the 
Duke of Urbin. 

The Cardinal Farnese, his uncle, of great credit 
in that college, long time hath aspired to be pope, 
but withstood by the King of Spain; on whom 
though now that house depend, yet forgetteth not, 
as he thinketh, the death of Pier Luigi, and the loss 
of Parma and Piacenza, restored to their house by 
the French. 

The young princes of Mirandola, in the govern- 
ment of their mother Fulvia Correggio, and under 
the protection of the King of France, who maintaineth 
there a garrison. 

The Duke of Savoy, Carlo Emanuel, a young 
prince of twenty-one years, very little of stature, but 
well brought up and disposed. His territory is the 
greatest of any Duke of Italy, having Piemont 
beyond the Alps, and Savoy on this side; divers fair 
towns and strongholds, richly left of his father, who 
was accounted a very wise prince. ‘This duke, as is 
thought, is advised to remain always indifferent 


436 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


between Spain and France, being neighbour to them 
both, unless some accident do counsel him to declare 
himself in behalf of either. Therefore both those 
princes go about by marriage to have him nearer 
allied to them. His mother was sister to King 
Francis the Great; his father being expulsed his 
dominions by the French, was restored by the King 
of Spain, with whom while he lived he had strait 
intelligence. As yet his inclination doth not appear, 
he retaineth his father’s alliances with Venice, espe- 
cially in Italy, and with the emperor. With Florence 
he hath question for pre-eminence. | 

His revenues are judged to a million of crowns 
yearly; now he is in arms against Geneva, and 
guarded against Bern. 

Of free estates, Lucca the least, is under the 
protection of the King of Spain: small in territory : 
the city itself well fortified and provided, because of 
the doubt they have of the Duke of Florence. 

Genoa is recommended to the King of Spain, 
their galleys serve under him, and the chiefest of 
their city are at his devotion. Though there is a 
faction for the French, whereto he doth hearken so 
weakly, that the Spaniard is there all in all; by 
whom that state in few years hath made a marvellous 
gain. And the King of Spain hath great need of 
their friendship for their ports, where embark and 
land all men, and whatsoever is sent between Spain 


and Milan. 
They hold Corsica an island, and Savona a fair 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 437 


city, and the goodliest haven in Italy, until it was 
destroyed by the Genevois ; the which now make no 
profession but of merchandise. 

There is a dangerous faction amongst them, 
between the ancient houses and the new, which were 
admitted into the ancient families. 

St. George is their treasure-house and receiver, 
as at Venice St. Mark. 

Venice retaining still the ancient form of govern- | 
ment, is always for itself in like estate and all one; 
at this time between the Turk and the King of Spain, 
in continual watch, seeming to make more account 
of France, so much in hope of any great affiance at 
this present to be had in him, but for the reputation 
of that nation, and the amity always they have had 
with the same, and behoving them so to do. They 
use it with good foresight and speedy preventing, 
sparing for no charge to meet as they may with 
every accident. Of late they have had some jar 
with the pope, as well about the inquisition as title 
of land. With Ferrara and the Venetians is ancient 
enmity, specially because he receiveth all their ba- 
nished and fugitives. They make most account of 
the Duke of Savoy amongst the Princes of Italy. 
They maintain divers ambassadors abroad, with the 
Turk, the emperor, France, Spain, and at Rome; 
with them is an ambassador of France and Savoy 
_ always resident, and an agent of Spain, because they 

gave the preseance to France. 

In this it seemeth all the potentates of Italy do 
agree to let all private grudges give place to foreign 


438 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


invasion, more for doubt of alteration in religion, 
than for any other civil cause. 

There is none amongst them at this day in any 
likelihood to grow to any greatness. For Venice is 
bridled by the Turk and Spain. The Duke of 
Tuscany seeketh rather title than territory, other- 
wise than by purchasing. 

Savoy is yet young; the rest of no great force 
of themselves. France hath greatly lost the reputa- 
tion they had in Italy, by neglecting the occasions 
offered, and suffering the King of Spain to settle 
himself. 7 

The Emperor Adolphe, of the house of Austriche, 
son to Maximilian, about thirty years of age; no 
strong constitution of body, and greatly weakened 
by immoderate pleasure; no great quickness of 
spirit. In fashion and apparel all Spanish, where 
he had his education in his youth. He was most 
governed by his mother while she remained with 
him ; and yet altogether by his steward Dyetristan, 
and his great chamberlain Romphe, both pension- 
aries of Spain, and there with him maintained. 

Of the empire he hath by the last imperial diet 
one million of dollars towards the maintenance of 
the garrisons of Hungary ; and, besides, his guards 
are paid of the empire. 

To the Turk he payeth yearly tribute for Hun- 
gary forty thousand dollars, besides the charge of 
the presents and his ambassadors, amounting to 
more than the tribute; in all one hundred thousand 


dollars. 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 439 


The ordinary garrisons in Hungary are to the 
number of but evil paid at this time. 

The revenues and subsidies of Hungary do not 
pass one hundred thousand florins. The last em- 
peror affirmed solemnly that the charge of Hungary 
amounted to one million and a half. 

The revenues of Bohemia, ordinary and extraor- 
dinary, amount to fifty thousand dollars. 

In the absence of the emperor, the Baron of 
Rosemberg is Governor of Bohemia, who possesseth 
almost a fourth part of that country, and is a papist; 
neither he nor his brother have children: he beareth 
the emperor in hand to make him his heir. 

Of Silesia and Moravia, the emperor yearly may 
have two hundred thousand florins. 

~ Out of Austriche of subsidy and tribute one 
hundred thousand florins, for his domains are all 
sold away and engaged. 

Thus all his revenues make half a million of 
florins. 

To his brothers Maximilian and Ernest he al- 
loweth yearly, by agreement made between them, 
forty-five thousand florins apiece, as well for Au- 
striche, as that might hereafter fall unto them by the 
decease of the Archduke Ferdinand in Tyrol, the 
which shall come to the emperor. 

The emperor altogether dependeth on Spain, as 
well in respect of his house, as the education he re- 
ceived there, and the rule his mother hath over him 
with the chief of his council. He is utter enemy to 


44.0 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. ~ 


religion, having well declared the same in banishing 
the ministers out of Vienna, and divers other towns, 
where he goeth about to plant Jesuits. 

Of his subjects greatly misliked, as his house is 
hateful to all Germany. 

The Archduke Charles holdeth Styria and Ca- 
rinthia; his chief abode is at. Gratz; his wife is sister 
to the Duke of Bavyre, by whom he hath children. 

The Archduke Ferdinand hath Tyrol, and re- 
maineth the most part at Ilsburg. For his eldest 
son he hath bought in Germany a pretty state, not 
far from Ulins; the second is a cardinal. Now he is 
a widower, and said that he shall marry a daughter 
of the Duke of Mantua. | 

These are uncles to the emperor ; besides Maxi- 
milian and Ernest, he hath two brothers, the 
Archduke Matthias, that hath a pension of the 
estates of the Low Country, and a Cardinal Arch- 
bishop of Toledo. 

In Germany there are divers princes diversly af- 
fected. The Elector Palatine Ludovic, a Lutheran ; 
his chief abode is at Heidelberg, 

His brother, John Casimir, Calvinist, at Keisers- 
lautern, or Nieustadt. 

Richard their uncle at Symyers. 

During the life of the last elector, Ludovic dwelt 
at Amberg in the Higher Palatinate. 

Philip Ludovic dwelt at Norbourg on the Danow, 
and is commonly called duke of. 

John dwelleth at Rypont, or Sweybourgh, or in 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 44.4 


Bergesaber; the other three brethren have no cer- 
tain dwelling-place. George John, son of Rupert, 
Count Palatine, dwelleth at Lysselsteyn. 

Augustus, Duke and Elector of Saxony, re- 
maineth the most part at Dresden on the Elbe; 
sometimes at Torge on Elbe, a goodly castle forti- 
fied by John Frederick. This elector is Lutheran, 
and a great enemy to our profession; of sixty years 
of age, half frantic, severe, governed much by his 
wife, greater exactor than the German princes are 
wont to be, and retaineth in his service divers Ita- 
lians ; his eldest son married of late the daughter of 
the Duke of Brandebourg. 

The sons of John Frederick, captive, and yet in 
prison, remain at Coburge in East Franconia, near 
the forest of Turinge. 

The sons of John William, abide at Vinaria in 
Turmgia. 

Joachim Frederick, son of John George, Elector 
of Brandebourg, at Hala in Saxony on the river of 
Sala, as administrator of the Archbishopric of Mag- 
debourg. 

George Frederick, son of George, dwelleth at 
Orsbuche in East Franconia, or at Blassenbourge, 
the which was the mansion of his uncle Albert the 
warrior, 

The Elector of Brandebourg, John George, re- 
maineth at Berlin on the river of Sprea: his uncle 
John dwelleth at Castryne, beyond Odera, very 
strong both by the situation, and fortified. 

William, Duke of Bavyre, a papist, at Munich 


442 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


in Bavary, married the daughter of the Duke of 


Lorrain. 
His second brother Ferdinand remaineth most at 


Landshutt. 

The third, Ernest, is Bishop of Frishinghen and 
Hildesheim, and late of Liege. 

Julius, Duke of Brunswick, at the strong castle 
of Wolfenbuttel on Oker. 

Ericke of Brunswick, son to Magnus, uncle to 
Julius, remaineth at Mynda, or where the rivers of 
Werra and Fulda do join, making the river of 
Visurgis navigable. 

William, Duke of Luneburg hath his being at 
Cella, on the river Albera. 

Henry his brother at Grysorn, where, before, 
their uncle Francis was wont to dwell. 

Otho their cousin, Duke of Luneburg, inhabiteth 
Harbourg, on this side the Elbe, over-right against 


Hamburgh. 
The Dukes of Pomerania, John Frederick 


dwelleth at Stetin. 
Bugeslaus at Campena, some time an ene in 


the county of Bardruse. 
Ernest Ludovick at Wolgast, on the river of 


Panis that runneth into the Baltick sea. 
Barmin at Ragenwald in Further Pomerania, on 


the borders of Poland and Prussia. 
Casimire at Camyn, which bishoprick he holdeth, 


either as administrator, or in his own possession and 


right. 
Ulricke, Duke of Meckelbourg, remaineth most 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 443 


at Gustrow; his brother John Albert dwelleth at 
Swerin, whose two sons are in the court of the Duke 
of Saxon. 

Adolph, Duke of Holst and Dytmarch ; his chief 
seat is at Gottorp in the Duchy of Sleswick. 

John his elder brother, unmarried, hath his abode 
at Hadersberge: John, son to Christiern, King of 
Denmark, and brother to the Duke of Holst, and to 
Frederick now King of Denmark, Bishop of Oeselya 
and Courland in Livonia. 

William, Duke of Juliers, Cleve, and Bergin, 
hath his court at Dusseldorp in the Dukedom of 
Bergense. 

William, Landgrave of Hesse dwelleth at Cassel 
on Fulda. 

Ludovick at Marpurge. 

Philip at Brubache on the Rhine. 

George at Darmstadt. 

Ludovick, Duke of Wirtenberge, his chief house 
at Stutgard. 

Frederick at Montbelgard. 

The Marquises of Bathe: the elder Ernest, 
the second Jacob, the third brother yet younger; 
their chief dwelling-place is at Forsheim, or at 
Durlach. 

The sons of Philip at the Bath called Badan. 

Ernest Joachim, prince of Anhalt, at Zerbest, in 
the midway between Magdebourg and Wittemberg ; 
his other mansion is at Dessau on Mylda, where he 
was born, new built and fortified by his grandfather 
Ernest : he hath besides the castle of Cathenen, the 

VOL. 3. DD 


444 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


which was the habitation of Wolfgang prince of 
Anhalt his great uncle ; Ernest favoureth religion. 

George Ernest, Prince and Earl of Henneberg, 
at Schlewsing, by the forest called Turing. 

George, Duke of Silesia and Brieke, of the 
family of the Kings of Poland, dwelleth at Brieke ; 
his eldest son, Joachim Frederick, hath married the 
daughter of the Prince of Anhalt ; his second son, 
John George. > 

Henry, Duke of Silesia and Lignitz, son to the 
brother of George, dwelleth at Lignitz; he hath no 
children alive. | 

Frederick, brother to Henry, unmarried. 

Charles, Duke of Munsterburg and Olsse, his 
wife the Countess of Sternberg in Bohemia, where 
he maketh his abode. 

Henry, brother to Charles, remained at Olsse. 

John Frederick, Duke of Teschen. 

Charles, Duke of Lorrain, his chief court at 
Nancy. 

His eldest son Henry of man’s estate. 

Charles, Cardinal Archbishop of Metes. 

A daughter in the French court. 

Besides, there are in Germany three electors 
bishops, and divers bishops of great livings. 

The free towns of greatest importance are No- 
remberg, Auspurg, Ulmes, and Strasburg : then the 
cantons of the Swisses, the Grisons, and Valois. 

The greatest trouble in Germany at this time is 
about the concordate, furthered by the Duke of 
Saxon, and the Count Palatine. 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 445 


There is at this present no prince in Germany 
greatly toward or redoubted. 

The Duke Casimir’s credit is greatly impaired, 
and his ability small. 

The diet imperial shortly should be held, where 
the concordate shall be urged, collection for Hun- 
gary made, and a King of Romans named. 

The French king, Henry the Third, of thirty 
years of age, of a very weak constitution, and full of 
infirmities ; yet extremely given over to his wanton 
pleasures, having only delight in dancing, feasting, 
and entertaining ladies, and chamber-pleasures : 
no great wit, yet a comely behaviour and goodly per- 
sonage, very poor, through exacting inordinately by 
all devices of his subjects greatly repining that re- 
venge and hungry government, abhorring wars and 
all action, yet daily worketh the ruin of those he 
hateth, as all of the religion and the house of Bour- 
bon; doting fondly on some he chooseth to favour 
extremely, without any virtue or cause of desert in 
them, to whom he giveth prodigally. His chief fa- 
vourites now about him are the Duke Joyeuse, la 
Valette, and Monsieur D’Au. The queen-mother 
ruleth him rather by policy and fear he hath of her, 
than by his good will: yet he always doth shew 
great reverence towards her. The Guise is in as 
great favour with him as ever he was ; the house is 
now the greatest of all France, being allied to 
Ferrara, Savoy, Lorrain, Scotland, and favoured of 
all the papists; the French King having his kins- 


446 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


woman to wife, and divers great personages in that 
realm of his house. 

The chiefest at this present in credit nm court, 
whose counsel he useth, are Villeroy, Villaquier, 
Bellievre, the chancellor and lord keeper, Birague 
and Chiverny. 

He greatly entertaineth no amity with any prince, 
other than for form; neither is his friendship other- 
wise respected of others, save in respect of the re- 
putation of so great a kingdom. 

The pope beareth a great sway, and the king 
of Spain by means of his pensions; and of the 
queen-mother with the Guise; she for her two 
daughters, he for other regard, can do what he list 
there, or hinder what he would not have done. 

The division in his country for matters of religion 
and state, through miscontentment of the nobility — 
to see strangers advanced to the greatest. charges of 
the realm, the offices of justice sold, the treasury 
wasted, the people polled, the country destroyed, 
hath bred great trouble, and like to see more. The 
faction between the house of Guise against that of 
Montmorancy, hath gotten great advantage. 

At this present the king is about to restore Don 
Antonio, King of Portugal, whereto are great levies 
and preparation. 

Francis Duke of Anjou and of Brabant, for his 
calling and quality greatly to be considered as any 
prince this day living, being second person to the 
king, his brother, and in likelihood to succeed him. 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 447 


There is noted in the disposition of this prince a 
quiet mildness, giving satisfaction to all men ; facility 
of access and natural courtesy ; understanding and 
speech great and eloquent ; secrecy more than com- 
monly is in the French; from his youth always de- 
sirous of action, the which thing hath made him 
always followed and respected. And though hi- 
therto he hath brought to pass no great purpose, 
having suffered great wants, and resistance both at 
home and abroad, yet by the intermeddling is grown 
to good experience, readiness and judgement, the 
better thereby able to guide and govern his affairs, 
both in practice, in treaty, and action. Moreover, 
the diseased estate of the world doth so concur with 
this his active forwardness, as it giveth him matter to 
work upon: and he is the only man to be seen of all 
them in distress, or disirous of alteration. A matter 
of special furtherance to all such as have achieved 
great things, when they have found matter disposed 
to receive form. 

And there is to be found no other prince in this 
part of the world so towards and forward as the 
duke, towards whom they in distress may turn their 
eyes. We do plainly see in the most countries of 
Christendom so unsound and shaken an estate, as 
desireth the help of some great person, to set to- 
gether and join again the pieces asunder and out of 
joint. Wherefore the presumption is great, that if 
this prince continue this his course, he is likely to be- 
come a mighty potentate: for, one enterprise failing, 
other will be offered, and still men evil at ease, and 


448 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


desirous of a head and captain, will run to him that 
is fittest to receive them. Besides, the French, de- 
sirous to shake off the civil wars, must needs attempt 
somewhat abroad. This duke first had intelligence 
with the Count Ludovic in King Charles’s days, and 
an enterprise to escape from the court, and in this 
king’s time joined with them of the religion and 
malcontents: after was carried against them; 
seeketh the marriage with her majesty, so mighty 
a princess, as it were to marry might with his 
activity. , 

He hath had practice in Germany to be created 
King of Romans, made a sudden voyage with great 
expedition into the Low Countries, now is there 
again with better success than so soon was looked for. 

The King of Spain, Philip, son to Charles the 
Fifth, about sixty years of age, a prince of great un- 
derstanding, subtle and aspiring, diligent and cruel. 
This king especially hath made his benefit of the 
time where his last attempt on Portugal deserveth 
exact consideration, thereby as by the woskmanship 
to know the master. 

The first success he had was at St. Quintin, 
where he got anotable hand of the French; he 
sought to reduce the Low Countries to an absolute 
subjection. 

He hath kept France in continual broil, where 
by his pensions and the favour of the house of Guise, 
by means of the queen-mother in contemplation of 
her nieces, he beareth great sway. With the pope 
he is so linked, as he may do what him list, and dis- 


= So ee 


OF THE STATE oF * EUROPE. 449 


pose of that authority to serve bis purposes: as he 
has gotten great authority in pretending to protect 
the church and religion. 

He possesseth the one half of Italy, comprehend- 
ing Sicily and Sardinia, with Naples and Milan; the 
which estates do yield him little other profit, save 
the maintenance of so many Spaniards as he keepeth 
there always. 

The Duke of Florence relieth greatly upon him, 
as well in respect of the state of Siena, as of the ports 
he holdeth, and of his greatness. Lucca is under his 
protection. Genoa, the one faction at his devotion, 
with their galleys: at his pension is most of the 
greatest there. | 

Besides the Low Countries, he holdeth the 
French Comte, the best used of all his subjects, and 
Luxembourg: the West Indies furnish him gold and 
silver, the which he consumeth in the wars of the 
Low Countries, and in pensions, and is greatly 
indebted, while he worketh on the foundation his 
father laid, to erect a monarchy, the which, if he 
succeed in the conquest of Portugal, he is likely to 
achieve, unless death do cut him off. 

He hath one son of the years of five by his last 
wife, two daughters by the French king’s sister, two 
base sons. 

He hath greatly sought the marriage of the 
Queen’s daughter of France, sister to his last wife, 
and cousin german removed. 


His revenues are reckoned to amount to sixteen 
millions. 


450 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 
we, 


The chief in credit with him of martial men and 
for counsel are... . ” 

He maketh account to have in continual pay 
fifty thousand soldiers. 

He maintaineth galleys to the number of one 
hundred and forty, whereof there are sixty in Por- 
tugal, the rest are at Naples and other places. Now 
is on league with the Turk. 

D. Antonio, elect King of Portugal, thrust out 
by the King of Spain, of forty-five years of age, a 
mild spirit, sober and discreet : he is now in France, 
where he hath levied soldiers, whereof part are em- 
barked, hoping by the favour of that king, and the 
good will the Portugals do bear him, to be restored 
again. He holdeth the Torges, and the Kast Indians 
yet remain well affected to him, a case of itself de- 
serving the considering and relief of all other princes. 
Besides in his person, his election to be noted with 
the title he claimeth very singular, and seldom the 
like seen, being chosen of all the people ; the great 
dangers he hath escaped likewise at sundry times. 

The King of Poland, Stephen Batoaye, a Baron 
of Hungary, by the favour of the ‘Turk chosen King 
of the Pollacks, after the escape made by the French 
king ; a prince of the greatest value and courage of 
any at this day, of competent years, sufficient wisdom, 
the which he hath shewed in the siege of Danske, 
and the wars with the Muscovite. 

The Hungarians could be content to exchange 
the emperor for him. The Bohemians likewise wish 
him in the stead of the other. He were like to attain 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 451 


to the empire, were there not that mortal enmity 
between those two nations as could not agree in one 
subjection. 

Straight upon his election he married the Infant 
of Poland, somewhat in years and crooked, only to 
content the Pollacks, but never companied with her. 
He doth tolerate there all religions, himself heareth 
the mass, but is not thought to be a papist : he had 
a great part of his education in Turkey, after served 
the last emperor. 

Frederick the Second, of forty-eight years, King 
of Denmark and Norway ; his wife Sophia, daughter 
to Ulricke, Duke of Mechelebourg, by whom he 
hath six children, four daughters and two sons, 
Christianus and Ulricus, the eldest of five years 
of age. | 

The chiefest about him, Nicolas Cose his chan- 
cellor, in whose counsel he doth much repose. 

He hath always eight hundred horse about his 
court, to whom he giveth ten dollars the month. 

His father deceased in the year 1559, after which 
he had wars ten years space with the Swede, which 
gave him occasion to arm by sea. His navy is six 
great ships of one thousand five hundred ton, and 
fifteen smaller, ten gallies which sail to pass the 
Straits. 

His revenues grow chiefly in customs, and such 
living as were in the hands of the abbeys, and 
bishops, whereby he is greatly enriched: his chief 
haven is Copenhagen, where always his navy lieth. 

His brother John, Duke of Holst in Jutland, 


452 OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 


married to the daughter of the Duke of Inferior 
Saxony. 

Magnus, his other brother, Bishop of Courland, 
married the daughter of the Muscovite’s brother. 

The chiefest wars that the King of Denmark 
hath is with Sweden, with whom now he hath peace. 
The Duke of Holst is uncle to the king now reigning; 
they make often alliances with Scotland. 

John, King of Sweden, son of Gustavus. 

This Gustavus had four sons, Erick, John, Mag- 
nus, Charles. 

Erick married a soldier’s daughter, by whom he 
had divers children, and died in prison. 

John, now king, married the sister of Sigismond, 
late King of Poland. 

Magnus bestraught of his wits. 

Charles married a daughter of the Palsgrave. 

Five daughters of Gustavus. 

Katherine married to the Earl of East-Friseland. 

Anne to one of the Palsgraves. 

Cicilia to the Marquis of Baden. 

Sophia to the Duke of Inferior Saxony. 

Elizabeth to the Duke of Mecleburg. 

This prince is of no great force nor wealth, but of 
late both increased his navigation by reason of the 
wars between him and the Dane, the which, the 
wars ceasing, they hardly maintain. 

The Muscovite Emperor of Russia, John Basil- 
of threescore years of age, in league and amity with 
no prince ; always at wars with the Tartarians, and 
now with the Pollake. 


OF THE STATE OF EUROPE. 453 


He is advised by no council, but governeth alto 
gether like a tyrant. He hath one son of thirty 
years of age. Not long sithence this prince deposed 
himself, and set in his place a Tartar, whom he 
removed again. Of late sent an ambassador to 
Rome, giving some hope to submit himself to that 
see. Their religion is nearest the Greek church, full 
of superstition and idolatry. 


‘ 


Riva 

ee 
cae 

a 

a 


io 


ay ee Saale se 
aes oes 


RE 
aia: 
ee, 


fy 
a 


ax 


rae 
iy 


Me 
as. 
ee 


ee 


ee 


oh 


ee as 


ea ee 
Daren 


a 
es 
ca 
are a 
a oe 
ee oats E 


Meese 
en 
Pons : os 
Des 
Ps 


ee 


ca. 


oe - 
eee 
She 


— 


oe 


ae 
a 


oe 
ae 
ee 


a 


ae 


ey 


a 
a 


as 


i} 
a 


cae 


ae 
a 


a 


oe '. 
oo ees a 
ey a 


oe 
er oman 


IN 
HAPPY MEMORY" 
oy 
ELIZABETH, QUEEN OF ENGLAND; 
on 
A COLLECTION 


OF THE 


FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


WRITTEN BY HIS LORDSHIP IN LATIN, AND ENGLISHED BY 
DR. RAWLEY, 


QUEEN Exizasetu, both in her natural endowments, 
and her fortune, was admirable amongst women, and 
memorable amongst princes. But this is no subject 
for the pen of a mere scholar, or any such cloistered 
writer. For these men are eager in their expres- 
sions, but sha!low in their judgements ; and perform 
the scholar’s part well, but transmit things but 
unfaithfully to posterity. Certainly it is a science 
belonging to statesmen, and to such as sit at the 
helms of great kingdoms, and have been acquainted 
with the weight and secrets of civil business, to 
handle this matter dexterously. Rare in all ages 
hath been the reign of a woman, more rare the 
felicity of a woman in her reign, but most rare a 
permanency and lasting joined with that felicity. 


458 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


As for this lady she reigned four and forty years 
complete, and yet she did not survive her felicity. 
Of this felicity I am purposed to say somewhat ; 
yet without any excursion into praises; for praises 
are the tribute of men, but felicity the gift of God. 
First, I reckon it as a part of her felicity, that she 
was advanced to the regal throne from a private 
fortune. For this is ingenerate in the nature and 
opinions of men, to ascribe that to the greatest 
felicity, which is not counted upon, and cometh 
unlooked for, but this is not that I intend, it is this, 
princes that are trained up in their father’s courts, 
and to an immediate and apparent hope of succession 
do get this by the tenderness and remissness of their 
education, that they become, commonly, less capable 
and less temperate in their affections. And there- 
fore you shall find those to have been the ablest and 
most accomplished kings that were tutored by both 
fortunes. Such was with us, King Henry the Se- 
venth ; and with the French, Lewis the Twelfth: both 
which in recent memory, and almost about the same 
time obtained their crowns, not only from a private, 
but also from an adverse and afflicted fortune; and did 
beth excel in their several ways; the former in pru- 
dence, and the other in justice. Much like was the 
condition of this princess, whose blossoms and hopes 
were unequally aspected by fortune, that afterwards 
when she came to crown, fortune might prove 
towards her always mild and constant. For Queen 
Elizabeth, soon after she was born, was entitled to 
the succession in the crown, upon the next turn 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 459 


disinherited again, then laid aside and slighted: 
during the reign of her brother, her estate was most 
prosperous and flourishing; during the reign of her 
sister, very tempestuous and full of hazard. Neither 
yet did she pass immediately from the prison to the 
crown, which sudden change might have been 
enough to make her cast off all moderation: but 
first she regained her liberty, then there budded 
forth some probable hopes of succession ; and lastly, 
in a great still and happiness she was advanced to 
the imperial crown without either noise or compe- 
titor. All which I allege that it may appear that 
the divine Providence, intending to produce a most 
exquisite princess, was pleased to prepare and mould 
her by these degrees of discipline. Neither ought 
the misfortune of her mother justly to stain the pure 
stream of her blood; especially seeing it is very evi- 
dent that King Henry the Eighth did first burn with 
new loves, before he was inflamed with indignation 
against Queen Anne: neither is it unknown to the 
ages since, that he was a king naturally prone to 
loves and jealousies; and not containing himself in 
those cases from the effusion of blood. Besides, the 
very person for whom she was suspected sheweth 
the accusation to be less probable, and built upon 
weak and frivolous suppositions; which was both 
secretly whispered in many men’s ears at that time; 
and which Queen Anne herself testified by her 
undaunted courage, and that memorable speech of 
her’s at the time of her death. For having gotten, 
as she supposed, a faithful and friendly messenger, 
VOL. 3. EE 


460 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


in the very hour before her death, she delivered him 
these words to relate unto the king: “ That she 
“ had ever found the king very constant and firm to 
“his purpose of advancing her; for first, from the 
“ estate of a gentlewoman only, and no way pretend- 
“ ing to noble titles, he raised her to the honour of 
“a marchioness; next, he vouchsafed to make her 
“his consort both of his kingdom and bed: and 
“ now that there remained no higher earthly honour, 
“ he meant to crown her innocency with the glory 
“ of martyrdom.” But though the messenger durst 
not relate these words to the king, who was already 
inflamed with new loves, yet certain tradition, the 


_conserver of truth, hath conveyed them to posterity. 


Another principal thing, which I cast into 
Queen Elizabeth’s felicity, was the time and period 


of her reign ; not only for that it was long, but also 
"because it fell into that season of her life, which was 


most active and fittest for the swaying of a sceptre, 
for she was fully five and twenty years old (at which 
age the civil law freeth from a curator) when she 
came to the crown, and reigned to the seventieth 
year of her life ; so that she never suffered either the 
detriments of pupilage, and check of an over-awing 
power, or the inconveniences of an impotent and 
unwieldy old age; and old age is not without a 
competent portion of miseries, even to private men ; 
but to kings, besides the common burthen of years, 
it brings for the most part a declining in the estates 
they govern, and a conclusion of their lives without 
honour. For there hath scarce been known a king 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 461 


that hath lived to an extreme and impotent old age, 
but he hath suffered some detriment in his territo- 
ries, and gone less in his reputation. Of which 
thing there is a most eminent example in Philip the 
Second, King of Spain, a most puissant prince, and 
an excellent governor, who in the last years of his 
life, and impotent old age. was sensible of this 
whereof we speak ; and therefore with great circum- 
spection submitted himself to nature’s law, volun- 
tarily surrendered the territories he had gotten in 
France, established a firm peace in that kingdom, 
attempted the like in other places, that so he might 
transmit his kingdoms peaceable and entire to his 
next heir. Contrariwise, Queen Elizabeth’s fortune 
was so constant and deeply rooted, that no disaster 
in any of her dominions accompanied her indeed 
declining, but still able years: nay further, for an 
undeniable token of her felicity, she died not before 
the rebellion in Ireland was fortunately decided, and 
quashed by a battle there, lest otherwise it might 
have defalcated from the total sum of her glory. Now 
the condition also of the people over whom she 
reigned, I take to be a matter worthy our observa- 
tion; for if her lot had fallen amongst the desolate 
Palmyrenes, or in Asia, a soft and effeminate race of 
men, a woman-prince might have been sufficient for 
a womanish people; but for the English, a nation 
stout and warlike, to be ruled by the check of a 
woman, and to yield so humble obedience to her, is 
a thing deserving the highest admiration. 

Neither was this disposition of her people (hungry 


462 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


of war, and unwillingly bowing to peace) any impe- 
diment to her, but that she enjoyed and maintained 
peace all her days: and this desire in her of peace, 
together with her fortunate accomplishment thereof, 
I reckon to be one of her chiefest praises. For this 
was happy for her times, comely for her sex, and 
comfortable to her conscience. Indeed, about the 
tenth year of her reign, there was an offer of a com- 
motion in the northern parts, but it was soon laid 
asleep and extinguished; but all her reign beside 
was free from the least breath or air of civil broils. 
Now I judge the peace maintained by her to be the 
more eminent for two causes, which indeed make 
nothing for the merit of that peace, but much for 
the honour: the one, that it was set off, and made 
more conspicuous by the broils and dissentions of 
neighbouring nations, as it were by so many lights 
and torches: the other, that amidst the benefits of 
peace she lost not the honour of arms; insomuch, 
that the reputation of the English arms was not only 
preserved, but also advanced by her upon many 
glorious occasions. For the succours sent into the 
Netherlands, France, and Scotland, the expeditions 
by sea into both the Indies, whereof some circled 
the whole globe of the earth; the fleets sent into 
Portugal, and to annoy the coasts of Spain: and 
lastly, the often suppressions and overthrows of the 
rebels in Ireland, did both shew the warlike prowess 
of our nation to be no whit diminished, and did 
much increase the renown of the queen. 

There was another thing that did greatly ad- 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 463 


vance her glory; that both by her timely succours, 
her neighbour kings were settled in their rightful 
thrones, and the suppliant people, who by the ill 
advisedness of their kings were abandoned and given 
over to the cruelty of their ministers, and to the fury 
of the multitude, and to all manner of butchery and 
desolation, were relieved by her; by reason whereof 
they subsist unto this day. Neither was she a prin- 
cess less benign and fortunate in the influence of her 
counsels, than of her succours ; as being one that had 
oftentimes interceded to the King of Spain, to miti- 
gate his wrath against his subjects in the Netherlands, 
and to reduce them to his obedience upon some 
tolerable conditions ; and further, as being one that 
did perpetually and upon all occasions, represent to 
the French kings the observation of their own edicts, 
so often declaring and promising peace to their sub- 
jects. I cannot deny but that these good counsels 
of hers wanted the effect: in the former I verily 
believe for the universal good of Europe, lest 
happily the ambition of Spain, being unloosed from 
its fetters, should have poured itself (as things then 
stood) upon the other kingdoms and states of 
Christendom: and for the latter the blood of so 
many innocents with their wives and children slain 
within their own harbours and nests by the scum of 
the people, (who like so many mastiffs were let loose, 
and heartened, and even set upon them by the state,) 
would not suffer it; which did continually cry unto 
God for vengeance, that so blood-sucking a kingdom 
might have her fill thereof, in the intestine slaugh- 


464. ‘THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. - 


ters and consumption of a civil war. Howsoever she 
persisted to perform the part of a wise and loving 
confederate. 

There is another cause also for which we may 
justly admire this peace so constantly pursued and 
maintained by the queen. And that is, that it did 
not proceed from any bent or inclination of those 
times; but from the prudency of her government 
and discreet carriage of things. For whereas she 
herself was not without manifest danger from an ill 
affected party at home for the cause of religion, and. 
that the strength and forces of this kingdom were 
in the place of a bulwark to all Europe against the 
then dreadful and overflowing ambition and power 
of the King of Spain, she might have apprehended 
just cause of a war; but as she was still ready with 
her counsel, so she was not behind hand with her 
forces. And this we are taught by an event the 
most memorable of any in our time, if we look upon 
the felicity thereof. For when as the Spanish navy 
(set forth with such wonderful preparations in all 
kinds, the terror and amazement of all Europe, 
carried on with almost assurance of victory) came 
braving upon our seas; it took not so much as one 
poor cock-boat of ours, nor fired any one village, 
nor landed one man upon English ground; but was 
utterly defeated, and after a shameful flight and 
many shipwrecks quite dispersed, so as the peace 
of this kingdom was never more firm and solid. 
Neither was her felicity less in escaping treacherous 
attempts at home, than in subduing and defeating 


Re) 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, 465 


foreign invasions. For not a few treasons plotted 
against her life, were most fortunately discovered 
and disappointed. And this was no cause to make 
her lead a more fearful or diffident life than before. 
No new increase of her guard, no immuring herself 
within her own walls, or forbearing to be seen 
abroad ; but as one assured and confident, and that 
was more mindful of her escape from danger, than 
of the danger itself, she was constant to her former 
customs and fashions. 

Furthermore, it is worth our labour to consider 
the nature of the times in which she reigned. For 
there are some times so barbarous and ignorant that 
it is no greater matter to govern people, than to 
govern a flock of sheep. But this queen, fell upon 
times of singular learning and sufficiency ; in which 
it was not: possible to be eminent, without admirable 
endowments of wit, and a rare temper of virtue. 
Again, the reigns of women are for the most part 
obscured by their husbands; upon whom all their 
praises and worthy acts do reflect: as for those that 
continue unmarried, it is they that impropriate the 
whole glory, and merit to themselves. And this was 
the peculiar glory of this princess, that she had no 
props or supports of her government, but those that 
were of her own making. She had no brother, the 
son of her mother ; no uncle, none other of the royal 
blood and lineage that might be partner in her cares, 
and an upholder of the regal dignity. And as for 
those, whom she raised to honour, she carried such 
a discreet hand over them, and so interchanged her 


466 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


favours as they still strived in emulation and desire 
to please her best, and she herself remained in all 
things an absolute princess. Childless she was, and 
left no issue behind her; which was the case of many 
of the most fortunate princes, Alexander the Great, 
Julius Cesar, Trajan and others. And this is a case 
that hath been often controverted and argued on 
both sides, whilst some hold the want of children to 
be a diminution of our happiness, as if it should be 
an estate more than human to be happy both in 
our own persons, and in our descendants, but others 
do account the want of children as an addition to 
earthly happiness, inasmuch as that happiness may 
be said to be complete, over which fortune hath no 
power, when we are gone: which if we leave children 
cannot be. 

She had also many outward gifts of nature. A 
tall stature; a comely and straight making ; an ex- 
traordinary majesty of aspect, joined with a sweet- 
ness; a most happy and constant healthfulness of 
body. Unto which I may add, that in the full 
possession both of her limbs and spirits until her last 
sickness, having received no blow from fortune, nor 
decay from old age; she obtained that which 
Augustus Cesar so importunately prayed for; an 
easy and undistempered passage out of this world. 
Which also is reported of Antoninus Pius, that 
excellent emperor; whose death had the resem- 
blance of some soft and pleasing slumber. So in 
Queen Elizabeth’s disease, there was no ghastly or 
fearful accident ; no idleness of brain; nothing unac- 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 467 


customed to man in general: she was not trans- 
ported either with desire of life, or tediousness of 
sickness, or extremity of pain; she had no grievous 
or uncomely symptoms, but all things were of that 
kind, as did rather shew the frailty of nature, than a 
deordination or reproach of it. For some few days 
before her death, being much pined with the ex- 
treme drought of her body, and those cares that 
accompany a crown, and not wonted to refresh her- 
self with wine, or any liberal diet, she was struck 
with a torpor and frigidity in her nerves; notwith- 
standing, which is rare in such diseases, she retained 
both her speech, and memory and motion, though 
but slow and weak, even to the end. And in this 
case she continued but a few days; so as it cannot 
be called the last act of her life, but the first step to 
her death. For as it is a miserable condition to see 
the faculties of our body buried before us; and to 
survive long after them; so it is a fair and natural 
conclusion of our life, when the senses are by little 
and little laid asleep that the dissolution of the 
whole should immediately follow. 

I will add one thing more to make up the full 
measure of her felicity: which is, that she was not 
only most happy in her own person, but in the abi- 
lities and virtues of her servants, and ministers, for 
she was served by such persons as I suppose this 
island never brought forth the like before her times. 
Now when God beareth a love to kings, no doubt 


he raiseth up the spirits of wise servants as a con- 
current blessing. 


468 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


There are two fair issues of her happiness, born 
to her since her death, I conceive not less glorious 
and eminent than those she enjoyed alive. The one 
of her successor, the other of her memory. For she 
hath gotten such a successor, who although for his 
masculine virtues, and blessing of posterity, and ad- 
dition of territories, he may be said to exceed her 
greatness and somewhat to obscure it; notwith- 
standing, he is most zealous of her name and glory ; 
and doth even give a perpetuity to her acts, consi- 
dering both in the choice of the persons, and in the 
orders, and institutions of the kingdom, he hath 
departed so little from her so as a son could hardly 
succeed a father, with less noise of innovation. As 
for her memory, it hath gotten such life in the 
mouths and hearts of men, as that envy being put 
out by her death, and her fame lighted, I cannot say 
whether the felicity of her life, or the felicity of her 
memory be the greater. For if, perhaps, there fly 
abroad any factious fames of her, raised either by 
discontented persons, or such as are averse in reli- 
gion; which notwithstanding dare now scarce shew 
their faces, and are every where cried down; the 
same are neither true, neither can they be long 
lived. And for this cause especially, have I made 
this collection,. such as it is, touching her felicity, 
and the marks of God’s favour towards her; that no 
malicious person should dare to interpose a curse, 
where God hath given a blessing. Now if any man 
shall allege that’ against me, was once said to 
Cesar ; “ we see what we may admire, but we would 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 469 


fain see what we can commend ;” certainly, for my 
part, I hold true admiration to be the highest degree 
of commendation. And besides such felicities as we 
have recounted could not befal any princess, but 
such an one as was extraordinarily supported, and 
cherished by God’s favour; and had much in her 
own person, and rare virtues, to create and work out 
unto herself such a fortune. Notwithstanding, I 
have thought good to insert something now con- 
cerning her moral part, yet only in those things, 
which have ministered occasion, to some malicious to 
traduce her. 

This queen, as touching her religion, was pious, 
moderate, constant, and an enemy to novelty. First 
for her piety, though the same were most conspicu- 
ous in her acts and the form of her government ; 
yet it was pourtrayed also in the common course of 
her life, and her daily comportment. Seldom would 
she be absent from hearing divine service, and other 
duties of religion, either in her chapel, or in her 
privy closet. In the reading of the scriptures, and 
the writings of the fathers, especially of Saint 
Augustine, she was very frequent; she composed 
certain prayers herself upon emergent occasions. 
Whensoever she named God, though it were in 
common discourse, she would for the most part add 
the title of Maker, saying, God my Maker: and 
compose both her eyes and countenance to a sub- 
missness and reverence. This I have often, myself, 
observed, being in her presence; now whereas some 
have divulged her unmindfulness of mortality, in 


470 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


that she would never endure any mention either of 
her age, or death, is most false : for she would often, 
and that many years before her death, with a great 
deal of meekness profess that she found herself 
grown an old woman, and she would sometimes open 
herself what she liked best for an inscription upon 
her tomb, saying, that she loved no pompous or vain- 
glorious titles but would only have a line or two for 
her memory, wherein her name and her virginity, 
and the years of her reign, and her establishing of 
religion, and her maintaining of peace, should be 
in the fewest words comprehended. It is true, that 
whilst she was in her vigorous years, and able to 
bear children, if at any time she were moved to de- 
clare her successor, she would make answer, that she 
would never endure to see her winding-sheet before 
her eyes. And yet notwithstanding some few years 
before her death, one day when she was in a deep 
meditation, and, as it may be guessed, in that of her 
mortality, one that might be bold said unto her, 
“ madam, there are divers offices, and great places in 
“the state, which you keep too long void.” She 
arose up in some displeasure, and said, “ I am sure 
my office will not be long void.” 

As for her moderateness in religion I shall seem 
to be at a stand, in regard of the severe laws made 
against her subjects of the Romish religion: not- 
withstanding, that which I shall say is no more than 
what I know for certain, and diligently observed. 
Most certain it is, that it was the firm resolution of 
this princess not to offer any violence to consciences ; 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 471 


but then on the other side, not to suffer the state of 
her kingdom to be ruined under pretence of con- 
science and religion. Out of this fountain she con- 
cluded ; first, that to allow freedom and toleration 
of two religions by public authority, in a nation 
fierce and warlike, and that would easily fall from 
dissention of minds to siding and blows, would bring 
inevitable ruin to this kingdom. Again, in the new- 
ness of her reign, when there was a general distrust, 
she singled out some of the bishops of the most 
turbulent and factious spirits, and committed them 
to free custody; and this not without the warrant of 
former laws. As for the rest, either of the clergy or 
laity, she did not ransack their consciences by any 
severe inquisition, but rather secured them by a 
gracious connivancy : and this was the state of things 
at the first. Neither did she depart from this cle- 
mency, when the excommunication of Pius Quintus 
came thundering against her, which might both 
justly have provoked her, and have ministered 
occasion to new courses ; but howsoever she followed 
her royal nature still: for as a wise lady, and of a 
high courage, she was not a whit terrified at the 
roaring of a bull, being well assured of her people’s 
love and fidelity towards her, as also of the disability 
of the popish faction within the kingdom to do her 
hurt if no foreign enemy joined with them. But 
then, about the three and twentieth year of her 
reign there followed a mighty change. And this 
distinction of the times is not any device of mine, but 
it is expressed in the public acts of that time, and as 


472 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


it were cut in brass; for before that year was there 
never any capital or severe punishment inflicted upon 
any of her subjects, as they had relation to the Ro- 
mish religion, by the laws formerly made. But just 
then began that proud and vast intention of Spain 
to conquer this kingdom, by little and little to shew 
itself. Of this the principal prat was to stir up by 
all means a party within the kingdom of such as were 
ill-affected to the state, and desirous of innovation, 
that might adhere to the foreigner at his landing. 
For this they had no other hopes than the difference 
in religion; wherefore they set it down to pursue 
this course with all their power: and the seminaries 
at that time budding, priests were sent into England 
to plant and disperse a love to the Romish religion; 
to teach and inculcate the power of the pope’s 
excommunication in freeing subjects.from their alle- 
giance, and to awaken and prepare the minds of men 
to an expectation of achange. About the same time 
Ireland also was attempted by an invasion, and the 
queen’s name and government traduced by sundry 
and scandalous libels. To be short, there was an 
unusual swelling in the state, the forerunner of 
greater troubles: yet I will not affirm, that every 
priest which was sent over was made of the council, 
or privy to the enterprize, but that some of them 
became the wicked instruments only of other men’s 
malice. Notwithstanding this is true, and witnessed 
by the confessions of many, that almost all the priests 
which were sent into this kingdom from that afore- 
uamed year, unto the thirtieth year of Queen Eliza- 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 473 


beth’s reign, at which time that design of the pope 
and Spain was put into execution, by those me- 
morable preparations of the navy and land forces, 
had in their instructions, besides other parts of their 
function, to distil and insinuate into the people these 
particulars: “ It was impossible things should con- 
“ tinue at this stay : they should see ere long a great 
“change in this state; that the pope and Catholic 
“ princes were careful for the English, if they would 
“ not be wanting to themselves.” Again, sundry of 
the priests did manifestly interpose themselves into 
those consultations and plots which tended to the 
undermining and ruining of this kingdom: and, which 
especially moved her, letters were intercepted out of 
divers parts that discovered the true face of the plot; 
in which was written, that they doubted not to 20 
beyond the vigilancy of the queen and state in the 
matter of Catholics; for the queen would only have 
an eye lest there should arise any fit head, in the 
person of some lord, or other eminent gentleman of 
quality, under wl om the Catholics might unite; but 
they had thought upon another course, as namely, by 
private men, and those but of mean rank, that should 
not confer, nor scarce know of each other’s employ- 
ments, to prepare and mature the business by the 
secresy of confession, And these were their engines, 
the which, as hath appeared since in a case not much 
unlike, are usual and familiar to that order of men. 
In this great deluge of danger, there was a necessity 
imposed upon Queen Elizabeth to restrain, by some 
sharper bands of laws, that part of her subjects which 


474 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


were alienated from her, and had drunk too deep a 
draught of this poison ever to recover; and further, 
which by their retired living, and exemption from 
public offices, were grown very rich: and moreover, 
the mischief daily growing, when as the cause thereof 
was ascribed to none other than the seminary priests, 
who had been nourished in foreign parts, and 
received exhibition from the bounty and alms of 
foreign princes, professed enemies to this state ; and 
who had conversed in such places where the name of 
Queen Elizabeth was never heard, but as of an 
heretic, and excommunicate, and accursed person ; 
and who, though themselves, sometimes, had no 
hand in treason, yet they were known to be the 
intimate friends of them that had. And lastly, who 
by their arts and poisons had infected and soured 
the mass and lump of the Catholics, which before 
was more sweet and harmless, with a new kind of 
leaven, and desperate maliciousness : there could no 
other remedy be devised, but by forbidding such per- 
sons to enter into this kingdom upon pain of their 
lives; which at last, in the twenty-seventh year of 
her reign, was accordingly done. Nay, and when 
the event itself had confirmed this to be true, I mean 
immediately after that the dreadful tempest arose 
from Spain, threatening no less than utter deso- 
lation, yet did it nothing mollify or turn the edge of 
these men’s malice and fury, but rather whetted it, 
as if they had cast off all natural affection to their 
country. As for the times succeeding, I mean after 
the thirtieth year of her reign, though indeed our 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 475 


¢ 

fear of Spain, which had been the spur to this rigour, 
had fairly breathed out, or was well abated; yet 
considering the memory of times past had made so 
deep impression in men’s hearts and cogitations, and 
that it would have seemed either inconstancy to 
repeal those former laws, or sloth to neglect them, 
the very constitution of things did suggest to the 
queen, that it was not safe to reduce them unto that 
state wherein they had continued until the three and 
‘twentieth year of her reign. Hereunto may be 
added the industry of some persons in improving the 
revenues of the Exchequer, and the zeal of some other 
ministers of justice, which did never think their 
country safe, unless the laws were rigorously exe- 
cuted; all which did importune and press the 
execution of the laws. Notwithstanding, the queen, 
for a manifest token of her royal nature, did so dull 
the edge of the laws, that but a very few priests, in 
respect of their number, did suffer death. Now all — 
this which I have said is not by way of defence, for 
the matter needs it not; for neither could this king- 
dom have been safe without it, neither were the 
proceedings any way comparable or of kin to those 
bloody and unchristianly massacres in the Catholic 
countries, which proceeded merely from rancour and 
pride, and not from any necessity of state: how- 
soever, | hope I have made my first assertion good, 
that she was moderate in the point of religion, and 
that the change which happened was not in her 
nature, but upon the necessity of the times. 

Now for the constancy of Queen Elizabeth in 

VOL, 3, F F d Ye ~~ 


, os 


~~,” 


476 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


religion, and the observance thereof, I know no better 
argument than this, That although she found the 
Romish religion confirmed in her sister’s days by act 
of parliament, and established by all strong and 
potent means that could be devised, and to have 
taken deep root in this kingdom ; and that all those 
which had any authority, or bear any office in the 
state, had subscribed to it; yet for that she saw it 
was not agreeable to the word of God, nor to the 
primitive purity, nor to her own conscience, she did, 
with a great deal of courage, and with the assist- 
ance of a very few persons, quite expel and abolish 
it. Neither did she this by precipitate and heady 
courses, but timing it wisely and soberly. And this 
may well be conjectured, as from the thing itself, so 
also by an answer of her’s which she made upon 
occasion. For within a very few days of her coming 
to the crown, when many prisoners were released 
out of prison, as the custom is at the inauguration 
of a prince, there came to her one day, as she was 
going to chapel, a certain courtier that had the 
liberty of a buffoon, and either out of his own 
motion, or by the instigation of a wiser man, pre- 
sented her with a petition: and before a great num- 
ber of courtiers, said to her with a loud voice, “ That 
“there were yet four or five prisoners unjustly 
‘ detained in prison; he came to be a suitor to have 
“them set at liberty; those were the four Evan- 
‘* gelists, and the Apostle Saint Paul, who had been 
“ Jong shut up in an unknown tongue, as it were in 
“prison, so as they could not converse with the 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 477 


“common people.” The queen answered very 
gravely, “ That it was best first to inquire of them, 
“whether they would be: set at liberty or no.” 
Thus she silenced an unseasonable motion with a 
doubtful answer, as reserving the matter wholly in 
her own power. Neither did she bring in this 
alteration timorously, or by pieces, but in a grave 
and mature manner, after a conference betwixt both 
sides, and the calling and conclusion of a parliament. 
And thus within the compass of one year she did so 
establish and settle all matters belonging to the 
church, as she departed not one hair’s breadth from 
them to the end of her life: nay, and her usual 
custom was, in the beginning of every parliament, 
to forewarn the houses not to question or innovate 
any thing already established in the discipline or rites 
of the church. And thus much of her religion. 
Now if there be any severer nature that shall tax 
her for that she suffered herself, and was very willing 
to be courted, wooed, and to have sonnets made in 
her commendation; and that she continued this 
longer than was decent for her years : .notwithstand- 
ing, if you will take this matter at the best it is not 
without singular admiration, being much like unto 
that which we find in fabulous narrations, of a certain 
queen in the Fortunate Islands, and of her court and 
fashions, where fair-purpose and love-making was 
allowed, but lasciviousness banished. But if you 
will take it at the worst, even so it amounteth to a 
more high admiration, considering that these court- 
ships did not much eclipse her fame, and not at all 


478 THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


her majesty ; neither did they make her less apt for 
government, or chock with the affairs and businesses 
of the public, for such passages as these do often 
entertain the time even with the greatest princes. 
But to make an end of this discourse, certainly this 
princess was good and moral, and such she would be 
acknowledged; she detested vice, and desired to 
purchase fame only by honourable courses. And 
indeed whilst I mention her moral parts, there comes 
a certain passage into my mind which I will insert. 
Once giving order to write to her ambassador about 
certain instructions to be delivered apart to the 
queen-mother of the house of Valois, and that her 
secretary had inserted a certain clause that the 
ambassador should say, as it were to endear her to 
the queen-mother, “ That they two were the only 
“ pair of female princes, from whom, for experience 
« and arts of government, there was no less expected 
“than from the greatest kings.” She utterly dis- 
liked the comparison, and commanded it to be put 
out, saying, “ That she practised other principles 
“and arts of government than the queen-mother 
“ did.” Besides, she was not a little pleased, if any 
one should fortune to tell her, that suppose she had 
lived in a private fortune, yet she could not have 
escaped without some note of excellency and singu- 
larity in her sex. So little did she desire to borrow 
or be beholding to her fortune for her praise. But 
if I should wade further into this queen’s praises, 
moral or politic, either I must slide into certain 
common places, and heads of virtue, which were not 


THE FELICITIES OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 479 


worthy of so great a princess: or if I should desire 
to give her virtues the true grace and lustre, I must 
fall into a history of her life, which requireth both 
better leisure and a better pen than mine is. Thus 
much in brief according to my ability: but to say 
the truth, the only commender of this lady’s virtues 
is time; which for as many ages as it hath run, hath 
not yet shewed us one of the female sex equal to her 
in the administration of a kingdom. 


A 


CIVIL CHARACTER 
i Our ee ds 
JULIUS CASSAR. 


JuLius C#saAr was partaker at first of an exercised for- 
tune; which turned to his benefit: for it abated the 
haughtiness of his spirit, and whetted his industry. 
He had a mind, turbulent in his desires and affec- 
tions; but in his judgment and understanding very 
serene and placid: and this appears by his easy de- 
liverances of himself, both in his transactions and in 
his speech. For no man ever resolved more swiftly, 
or spake more perspicuously and plainly. There 
was nothing forced or difficult in his expressions. 
But in his will and appetite, he was of that condi- 
tion, that he never rested in those things he had 
gotten; but still thirsted and pursued after-new; 
yet so, that he would not rush into new affairs 
rashly, but settle and make an end of the former, 
before he attempted fresh actions. So that he would 
put a seasonable period to all his undertakings. And 
therefore, though he won many battles in Spain, and 
weakened their forces by degrees; yet he would not 
give over, nor despise the relics of the civil war 
there, till he had seen all things composed: but then 


CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CAESAR. 481 


as soon as that was done, and the state settled, 
instantly he advanced in his expedition against the 
Parthians. 

He was, no doubt, of a very noble mind ; but 
yet such as aimed more at his i ad vance- 
ment, than at any merits for t mon good. 
For he referred all things to hci ind was the 
true and perfect centre of all his actions. By which 
means, being so fast tied to his ends, he was still 
prosperous, and prevailed in his purposes; insomuch, 
that neither country, nor religion, nor good turns 
done him, nor kindred, nor friendship diverted his 
appetite, nor bridled him from pursuing his own 
ends. Neither was he much inclined to works 
of perpetuity ; for he established nothing for the 
future; he founded no sumptuous buildings; he 
procured to be enacted no wholesome laws, but still 
minded himself: and so his thoughts were confined 
within the circle of his own life. He sought indeed 
after fame and reputation, because he thought they 
might be profitable to his designs: otherwise, in his 
inward thoughts, he propounded to himself rather 
absoluteness of power, than honour and fame. For 
as for honour and fame, he pursued not after them 
for themselves ; but because they were the instru- 
ments of power and greatness. And therefore he 
was carried on through a natural inclination, not by 
any rules that he had learned to affect the sole 
regiment; and rather to enjoy the same, than to 
seem worthy of it. And by this means he won much 


482 CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CESAR. 


reputation amongst the people, who are no valuers 
of true worth: but amongst the nobility and great 
men, who were tender of their own honours, it pro- 
cured him no more than this, that he incurred the 
brand of an ambitious and daring man. 

Neither did they much err from the truth who 
thought him so; for he was by nature exceeding 
bold; and never did put on any shew of modesty, 
except it were for some purposes. Yet notwith- 
standing, he so attempered his boldness, that it 
neither impeached him of rashness, nor was burthen- 
some to men; nor rendered his nature suspected, 
but was conceived to flow out of an innate sincerity 
and freeness of behaviour; and the nobility of his 
birth: and in all other things he passed, not for a 
crafty and deceitful person; but for an open-hearted 
and plain-dealing man, And whereas he was indeed 
an arch-politician, that could counterfeit and dis- 
semble sufficiently well; and was wholly com- 
pounded of frauds and deceits; so that there was 
nothing sincere in him, but all artificial; yet he 
covered, and disguised himself so, that no such vices 
appeared to the eyes of the world; but he was ge- 
nerally reputed to proceed plainly and uprightly 
with all men. Howbeit, he did not stoop to any 
petty and mean artifices, as they do, which are igno- 
rant in state-employments; and depend not so much 
upon the strength of their own wits, as upon the 
counsels and brains of others, to support their 
authority ; for he was skilled in the turnings of all 


CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CASSAR. 483 


human affairs ; and transacted all matters, especially 
those of high consequence by himself, and not by 
others. 7 
~ He was singularly skilful to avoid envy; and 
found it not impertinent to his ends, to decline that, 
though it were with some diminution of his dignity. 
For aiming at a real power, he was content to pass 
by all vain pomp and outward shews of power 
throughout his whole life; till at the last, whether 
high-flown with the continual exercise of power, or 
corrupted with flatteries, he affected the ensigns of 
power (the style and diadem of a king) which was 
the bait that wrought his overthrow. 
This is true, that he harboured the thoughts of 
a kingdom from his very youth: and hereunto the 
example of Sylla, and the kindred of Marius, and 
his emulation of Pompey, and the corruption and 
ambition of the times, did prick him forward: but 
then he paved his way to a kingdom, after a won- 
derful and strange manner. As first, by a popular 
and seditious power; afterwards by a military 
power, and that of a general in war. For there was 
required to effect his ends; first, that he should 
break the power and authority of the senate; which, 
as long as it stood firm, was adverse, and an hin- 
derance, that no man could climb to sovereignty and 
imperial command. Then the power of Crassus 
and Pompey, was to be subdued and quelled, which 
could not be done otherwise, than by arms. And 
therefore, as the most cunning contriver of his own 
fortune, he laid his first foundation by bribes; by 


4.8 4 CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CAESAR. 


corrupting the courts of justice; by renewing the 
memory of Caius Marius, and his party; for most 
of the senators and nobility were of Sylla’s faction : 
by the laws of distributing the fields, amongst the 
common people: by the sedition of the tribunes, 
where he was the author: by the madness and fury 
of Cataline, and the conspirators, unto which action 
he secretly blew the coals!) By the banishment of 
Cicero, which was the greatest blow to the autho- 
rity of the senate, as might be; and several other 
the like arts; but most of all by the conjunction of 
Crassus and Pompey, both betwixt themselves, and 
with him; which was the thing that finished the 
work. 

Having accomplished this part, he betook him- 
self to the other; which was to make use of, and to 
enjoy his power. For being made proconsul of 
France for five years; and afterwards continuing it 
for five years more; he furnished himself with arms 
and legions, and the power of a warlike and opulent 
province ; and was formidable to Italy. 

Neither was he ignorant, that after he had 
strengthened himself with arms, and a_ military 
power, neither Crassus nor Pompey could ever be 
able to bear up against him; whereof the one 
trusted to his great riches; the other to his fame 
and reputation; the one decayed through age, the 
other in power and authority: and neither of them 
were grounded upon true and lasting foundations. 
And the rather, for that he had obliged all the 
senators and magistrates: and in a word all those 


CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CESAR. 485 


that had any power in the commonwealth, so firmly 
to himself, with private benefits; that he was fearless 
of any combination or opposition against his designs, 
till he had openly invaded the imperial power. 

Which thing, though he always bare in his mind; 
and at the last acted it; yet he did not lay down his 
former person: but coloured things so, that what 
with the reasonableness of his demands; what with 
his pretences of peace; and what with the moderate 
use of his successes, he turned all the envy of the 
adverse party; and seemed to take up arms upon 
necessity for his own preservation and safety. But 
the falseness of this pretence manifestly appeared ; 
inasmuch as soon after having obtained the regal 
power, all civil wars being appeased; and all his 
rivals and opposites, which might put him to any 
fear, being removed out of the way by the stroke of 
death ; notwithstanding he never thought of resign- 
ing the republic; no, nor ever made any shew or 
offer of resigning the same. Which shewed plainly, 
that his ambition of being a king was settled in him, 
and remained with him unto his last breath. For 
he did not lay hold upon occasions, as they hap- 
pened, but moulded and formed the occasions, as 
himself pleased. 

His chief abilities consisted in martial know- 
ledge; in which he so excelled, that he could not 
only Jead. an army, but mould an army to his own 
liking. .For he was not more skilful in managing 
affairs, than in.winning.of hearts. Neither did he 
affect this by any ordinary discipline, as by inuring 


486 CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CESAR. 


them to fulfil all his commands; or by striking a 
shame into them to disobey, or by carrying a severe 
hand over them: but by such a way as did wonder- 
fully stir up an alacrity and cheerfulness in them; 
and did in a sort assure him of the victory aforehand, 
and which did oblige the soldier to him, more than 
was fit for a free estate. Now whereas he was 
versed in all kinds of martial knowledge, and joined 
civil arts, with the arts of war; nothing came so 
suddenly, or so unlooked for upon him, for which 
he had not a remedy at hand: and nothing was so 
adverse, but that he could pick something for his turn 
and benefit out of it. 

He stood sufficiently upon his state and great- 
ness. For in great battles he would sit at home in 
the head-quarter, and manage all things by mes- 
sages, which wrought him a double benefit. First, 
that it secured his person more, and exposed him 
the less to danger. Secondly, that if at any time 
his army was worsted, he could put new spirit into 
them with his own presence, and the addition of 
fresh forces, and turn the fortune of the day. In 
the conducting of his wars, he would not only follow 
former precedents, but he was able to devise and 
pursue new stratagems, according as the accidents 
and occasions required. 

He was constant, and singularly kind, and indul- 
gent in his friendships contracted. Notwithstand- 
ing, he made choice of such friends, as a man might 
easily see, that he chose them rather to be instru- 
ments to his ends, than for any good-will towards 


CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CASSAR. 487 


them. And whereas, by nature, and out of a firm 
resolution, he adhered to this principle; not to be 
eminent amongst great and deserving men, but to 
be chief amongst inferiors and vassals ; he chose only 
mean and active men, and such as to whom himself 
might be all in all. And hereupon grew that saying, 
‘So let Cesar live, though I die ;” and other speeches 
of that kind. As for the nobility, and those that 
were his peers, he contracted friendship with such 
of them as might be useful to him; and admitted 
none to his cabinet council, but those that had their 
fortunes wholly depending upon him. 

He was moderately furnished with good litera- 
ture, and the arts ; but in such sort as he applied his 
skill therein to civil policy. For he was well read 
in history ; and was expert in rhetoric, and the art 
of speaking. And because he attributed much to his 
good stars, he would pretend more than an ordinary 
knowledge in astronomy. As for eloquence, and a 
prompt elocution, that was natural to him and pure. 

He was dissolute, and propense to voluptuous- 
ness and pleasures ; which served well at first for a 
cover to his ambition. For no man would imagine, 
that a man so loosely given could harbour any am- 
bitious and vast thoughts in his heart. Notwith- 
standing, he so governed his pleasures, that they 
were no hinderance either to his profit or his 
business; and they did rather whet than dull the 
vigour of his mind. He was temperate at his meals; 
free from niceness and curiosity in his lusts; pleasant 
and magnificent at public interludes. 


488 CIVIL CHARACTER OF JULIUS CASAR. 


Thus being accomplished, the same thing was 
the means of his downfal at last, which in his 
beginnings was a step to his rise; I mean, his affec- 
tion of popularity ; for nothing is more popular than 
to forgive our enemies ; through which, either virtue 
or cunning, he lost his life. 


A 
CIVIL CHARACTER 


OF 
AUGUSTUS CAESAR. 


WRITYEN IN LATIN BY HIS LORDSHIP, AND ENGLISHED BY DR. RAWLEY, 


Aucustus Casar, if ever any mortal man, was 
endued with a greatness of mind, undisturbed 
with passions, clear and well ordered; which is 
evidenced by the high achievements which he per- 
formed in his early youth. For those persons which 
are of a turbulent nature or appetite, do commonly 
pass their youth in many errors; and about their 
middle, and then and not before, they shew forth 
their perfections; but those that are of a sedate and 
calm nature, may be ripe for great and glorious 
actions in their youth. And whereas the faculties 
of the mind, no less than the parts and members of 
the body, do consist and flourish in a good temper of 
health, and beauty, and strength; so he was in the 
strength of the mind inferior to his uncle Julius ; 
but in the health and beauty of the mind superior. 
For Julius being of an unquiet and uncomposed 
spirit, as those who are troubled with the falling 
sickness for the most part are. Notwithstanding, 


490 CIVIL CHARACTER OF AUGUSTUS CHSAR. 


he carried on his own ends with much moderation 
and discretion; but he did not order his ends well, 
proposing to himself vast and high designs above the 
reach of a mortal man. But Augustus, as a man 
sober, and mindful of his mortality, seemed to 
propound no other ends to himself than such as 
were orderly and well weighed and governed by 
reason. For first he was desirous indeed to have 
the rule and principality in his hands; then he sought 
to appear worthy of that power which he should 
acquire : next, to enjoy an high place he accounted 
but a transitory thing: lastly, he endeavoured to do 
such actions as might continue his memory and leave 
‘an impression of his good government to after ages. 
And therefore, in the beginning of his age, he affected 
power ; in the middle of his age, honour and dignity ; 
in the decline of his years, ease and pleasure ; and in 
the end of his life, he was wholly bent to memory 
and posterity. 


THE PRAISE OF 
HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, 


BY FRANCIS BACON. 


WRITTEN IN LATIN BY HIS LORDSHIP, AND TRANSLATED BY 
DR. BIRCH: * 


Henry Prince of Wales, eldest son of the king 
of Great Britain, happy in the hopes conceived 
of him, and now happy in his memory, died on the 
6th of Nov. 1612, to the extreme concern and 
regret of the whole kingdom, being a youth, who 
had neither offended nor satiated the minds of 
men. He had by the excellence of his disposition 
excited high expectations among great numbers of 
all ranks; nor had through the shortness of his 
life disappointed them. One capital circumstance 
added to these was the esteem, in which he was 
commonly held, of being firm to the cause of 
religion: and men of the best judgment were 
fully persuaded, that his life was a great support 
and security to his father from the danger of con- 


* He says, “ the following translation is an attempt, for the 
sake of the English reader, to give the sense of the original, 
without pretending to reach the force and conciseness of ex- 
pression peculiar to the great writer as well as to the Roman 
language.” 

VOL. 3. GG 


492 THE PRAISE OF HENRY PRINCE OF WALES. 


spiracies; an evil, against which our age has 
scarce found a remedy; so that the people’s love 
of religion and the king overflowed to the prince ; 
and this consideration deservedly heightened the 
sense of the loss of him. His person was strong 
and erect; his stature of a middle size; his limbs 
well made; his gait and deportment majestic ; his 
face long and inclining to leanness; his habit of 
body full; his look grave, and the motion of ’his 
eyes rather composed than spirited. In his coun- 
tenance were some marks of severity, and in his air 
some appearance of haughtiness. But whoever 
looked beyond these outward circumstances, and 
addressed and softened him with a due respect and 
seasonable discourse, found the prince to be gra- 
cious and easy; so that he seemed wholly differ- 
ent in conversation from what he was in appear- 
ance, and in fact raised in others an opinion of 
himself very unlike what his manner would at first 
have suggested. He was unquestionably ambi- 
tious of commendation and glory, and was strongly 
affected by every appearance of what is good and 
honourable; which in a young man is to be con- 
‘sidered as virtue. Arms and military men were 
highly valued by him; and he breathed himself 
something warlike. He was much devoted to 
the magnificence of buildings and works. of all 
kinds, though in other respects rather frugal; and 
was a lover both of antiquity and arts. He shewed 
his esteem of learning in general more by the coun- 
tenance which he gave to it, than by the time 


oe 


THE PRAISE OF HENRY PRINCE OF WALES. 493 


which he spent in it. His conduct in respect of 
morals did him the utmost honour; for he was 
thought exact in the knowledge and practice of 
every duty. His obedience to the king his father 
was wonderfully strict and exemplary: towards 
the queen he behaved with the highest reverence: 
to his brother he was indulgent; and had an in- 
tire affection for his sister, whom he resembled in 
person as much as that of a young man could the 
beauty of a virgin. The instructors of his younger 
years (which rarely happens) continued high in 
his favour. In conversation he both expected 
a proper decorum, and practised it. In the daily 
business of life, and the allotment of hours for the 
several offices of it, he was more constant and re- 
gular than is usual at his age. His affections and 
passions were not strong, but rather equal than 
warm. With regard to that of love, there was a 
wonderful silence, considering~ his age, so that he 
passed that dangerous time of his youth, in the 
highest fortune, and in a vigorous state of health, 
without any remarkable imputation of gallantry. 
In his court no person was observed to have any 
ascendant over him, or strong interest with him: 
and even the studies, with which he was most 
delighted, had rather proper times assigned them, 
than were indulged to excess, and were rather re- 
peated in their turns, than that any one kind of 
them had the preference of, and controlled the 
rest: whether this arose from the moderation of his 


494 ‘THE PRAISE OF HENRY PRINCE OF WALES. 


temper, and that in a genius not very forward, but 
ripening by slow degrees, it did not yet appear 
what would be the prevailing object of his incli- 
nation. He had certainly strong parts, and was 
endued both with curiosity and capacity ; but in 
speech he was slow, and in some measure hesi- 
tating. But whoever diligently observed what fell 
from him either by way of question or remark, © 
saw it to be full to the purpose, and expressive of 
no common genius. So that under that slowness 
and infrequency of discourse, his judgment had 
more the appearance of suspense and. solicitude to 
determine rightly, than of weakness and want of 
apprehension. In the mean time he was wonder- 
fully patient in hearing, even in business of the 
greatest length; and this with unwearied atten- 
tion, so that his mind seldom wandered from the 
subject, or seemed fatigued, but he applied him- 
self wholly to what was said or done: which (if 
his life had been lengthened) promised a very su- 
perior degree of prudence. There were indeed in 
the prince some things obscure, and not to be dis- 
covered by the sagacity of any person, but by time 
only, which was denied him; but what appeared 
were excellent, which is sufficient for his fame. 

He died in the 19th year of his age of an ob- 
stinate fever, which during the summer, through 
the excessive heat and dryness of the season, un- 
usual to islands, had been epidemical, though not 
fatal, but in autumn became more mortal. Fame 


THE PRAISE OF HENRY PRINCE OF WALES. 495 


which, as Tacitus says, is more tragical with re- 
spect to the deaths of princes, added a suspicion of 
poison: but as no signs of this appeared, especially 
in his stomach, which uses to be chiefly affected 
by poison, this report soon vanished. 


~ 


ae 


ny 
og 


Pies 
Caine 


ey 


ree 
oS 


va 


bs 


ete 
a 


ome 


oe 
eee 


pera 


ms 
es 


eine aa 
cr mieae 


ae 
a 


es 


ee 
fee 


ae 


oe 


i 


s 


a 


cA 


: 
ever 
es 


Paras 


_ 


ee 


ee 
— 


Pe 


ce 
oo 


oe 
ao 


ee 
ian 
a 


ae 


aad 
o 
ioe 


é 
i? 


- 
ee 


ft 


we, 


oe oe 
ie 


4 
: ee 
ee 


owe 
oe 
oe 


ie 
a. 
a 


ae 


ae 


Tone a 
ate 


a 


wer 
> 


eae 
a5, 


iy 


“ae 
Pal 


NOTE A. 
Referring to page 114. 

Tus doctrine of vital spirit, to which Lord Bacon thus alludes in ie 
his observations upon the sweating sickness, appeared to him tobe of . 
great importance and but little understood. An imperfect syllabus 
of his observations, as scattered over his works may, perhaps, be thus 
exhibited. 

1. Every tangible body contains a spirit. 

2. The spirit is imperceptible by the senses. 

3. The spirit is but little known because it is imperceptible 

by the senses. 

4. This science is of great importance. 

These general observations are explained by a particular investi- 

gation of the various properties of spirit. 
I. es of spirit. 
1, How generated. - 
2. Of condensing and dilating the spirit. 
3. Detention of spirit. 
4. Exhaustion of spirit. 

II. Quality of spirit. 

1, Different spirits of different bodies, and different 
sorts of spirits in the same body. 

2. Of preserving the spirit young and vigorous. 

3. Hot and cold. 

4, Active and quiescent. 

III. Regulation of spirit. 

IV. Of the perceptible effects of spirit upon the body. 

As a poet, he considers the subject in the fable of Proserpine, 
contained in this volume*; and, asa philosopher, in various parts of 
his works. His opinion of the existence of this spirit, as stated in 
the Sylva Sylvarum, is contained in the preface to this volume.t So 
in the history of “ Life and Death, § 11. Ax. 2. he says, “ All tan- 
« gible bodies contain a spirit covered over and enveloped with the 
“« grosser body. There is no known body in the upper parts of the 
“ earth, without its spirit ; whether it be generated by the attenuat- 
‘ing and concocting power of the celestial warmth, or otherwise : 
“for the pores of tangible bodies are not a vacuuin, but either 
contain air, or the peculiar spirit of the substance. And this spirit 
‘¢ is not a virtue, an energy, a soul, or a fiction: but areal, subtle, 
“and invisible body, circumscribed by place and dimension. Nor 
“again is this spirit air, any more than the juice of the grape is 


+ Page 88, + Page xxvii. 


498 NOTE A. 


“water: but a fine attenuated body, of kin to air, though again very 
“ different from it. Let it be held as certain, that there is in all 
“ tangible bodies a spirit, or pneumatical substance, enveloped and 
“included in the tangible parts ; every tangible body, with us, con- 
“tains an invisible and untangible spirit, over which the body is 
** drawn like a garment. For spirits are nothing else but a natural 
* body, rarified to a proportion, and included in the tangible parts of 
“bodies, as in an integument. And they be no less differing one 
** from the other, than the dense or tangible parts; and they 
“are in all tangible bodies whatzoever, more or less.” And in 
“the treatise “ De Augmentis,” having divided the science of man, 
“as an individual, into mind and body, he says—1. Now let 
“us proceed to the knowledge which concerns the mind or 
“soul of man, out of the treasures whereof all other know- 
“ledges are extracted. It hath two parts, the one entreateth of the 
** reasonable soul, which is a thing divine; the other of the unreason- 
* able soul, which is common to us with beasts. We have noted a 
“little before (where we speak of forms) those two different emana- 
** tions of souls, which in the first creation of them both, offer them- 
“ selves unto our view ; that is, that one hath its original from the 
** breath of God ; the other from the matrices of the elements ; for of 
“ the primitive emanation of the rational soul: thus speaks the Scrip- 
“ture, ‘Deus formavit hominem de limo terre, et spiravit in faciem 
** ejus spiraculum vite: but the generation of the unreasonable soul, 
“or of beasts, was accomplished by these words ; ‘producat aqua, 
** producat terra: and this irrational soul, as it is in man, is the in- 
“strument only to the reasonable soul; and hath the same original 
“in us, that it hath in beasts ; nainely, from the slime of the earth; 
“for it is not said, God formed the body of man of the slime of the 
“earth, but God formed man, that is the whole man, that spiraculum 
“excepted. Wherefore we will stile that part of the general know- 
“ledge concerning man’s soul, the knowledge of the spiracle, or 
“inspired substance ; and the other part, the knowledge of the sen- 
** sible or product soul.” 
So Plato’s doctrine of the Soul of the World; see also 6. GEneid— 
** Principio coelum, ac terras, eamposq liquentes, 
“ Lucentemy globum lune, Titaniaq astra 
“ Spiritus intus alit totamq infusa per artus 
“ Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.” 
In Wordsworth’s Excursion, he says, 
«To every form of being is assigned,’ 
“‘ Thus calmly spake the venerable sage, 
** “An active principle :— howe’er removed 
** From sense and observation, it subsists 
* Tn all things, in all natures, in the stars 
“* Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds, 
“In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone 
“* That paves the brooks, the stationary rocks, 
** The moving waters, and the invisible air, 
“ Whate’er exists hath properties that spread 
* Beyond itself, communicating good, 
“ A simple blessing, or with evil mixed; 
** Spirit that knows no insulated spot, 
*“ No chasm, no solitude, from link to link 
** It circulates, the soul of all the worlds. ” 
See also Berkeley’s Siris, 133, and the beginning of the Minute 


“hy 
* 
i 


NOTE A. 499 


Philosopher. See also Mandeville on Hypocondriasis, and Male- 
branche on Truth. The slightest knowledge of Lord Bacon’s mind will 
reject the supposition that he was likely to be misled by any idle 
imagination, he followed truth, and only truth, wherever she led him. 
He tried all things, holding fast im which was good: upon this 
very subject he says, in his SylvaSylvarum. ‘* The philosophy of Py- 
** thagoras, which was full of superstition, did first plant a monstrous 
“imagination, which afterwards was, by the school of Plato and 
** others, watered and nourished. Jt was, that the world was one 
“‘ entire perfect living creature ; insomuch as Apollonius of Tyana, 
*‘a Pythagorean prophet, affirmed, that the ebbing and flowing of 
“the sea was the respiration of the world, drawing in water as 
** breath, and putting forth again. They went on, and inferred, that if 
** the world were a living creature, it had asoul and spirit; which also 
** they held, calling it spiritus mundi, the spirit or soul of the world, 
“‘ by which they did not intend God, for they did admit of a Deity 
** besides, but only the soul or essential form of the universe. This 
** foundation being laid, they might build upon it what they would; 
“* for in a living creature, though never so great, as for example, in 
** a great whale, the sense and the effects of any one part of the body 
‘* instantly make a transcursion throughout the whole body: so that 
** by this they did insinuate, that no distance of place, nor want or 
** indisposition of matter, could hinder magical operations ; but that 
“‘ for exainple, we might here in Europe have sense and feeling of 
‘* that which was done in China; and likewise we might work any 
“‘ effect without and against matter; and this not holpen by the 
*‘ eo-operation of angels or spirits, but only by the unity and har- 
“mony of nature. ‘There were some also that staid not here; but 
“* went farther, and held, that ifthe spirit of man, whom they call 
* the microcosm, do give a fit touch tothe spirit of the world, by 
‘* strong imaginations, and beliefs, it might command nature; for 
“* Paracelsus, and some darksome authors of magic, do ascribe to 
“ imagination exalted the power of miracle-working faith. With 
“these vast and bottomless fojlies men have been in part en- 
** tertained. 

* But we, that hold firm to the works of God, and to the sense, 
** whichis God’s lamp, ‘lucerna Dei spiraculum hominis,’ will inquire 
“¢ with all sobriety and severity, whether there be to be found in the 
** footsteps of nature, any such transmission and influx of immate- 
** riate virtues ; and what the force of imagination is; either upon 
** the body imaginant, or upon another body: wherein it will be like 
‘“* that labour of Hercules, in purging the stable of Augeas, to se- 
‘* parate from superstitious and magical arts and observations, any 
‘thing that is clean and pure natural; and not to be either con- 
** temned or condemned.” 

As a specimen of Bacon’s ingenuity and beautiful reasoning upon 
this subject, I select his mode of explaining the ‘ Condensation of 
Spirit by Flight.’ Spirits, he says, are condensed, 

1. By flight. 
2 By cold. 
1. By respiration. 
2. By vapour. 
3. By aliment. 
3. By appeasing. 
4. By quelling. 
One of the modes of condensing the spirits is ‘ By Flight,’ that is 


200 NOTE A. 


when there is an antipathy between the spirit and the hody which acts 
upon it, and where the force of impulse is quicker than the force of 
recovery—opium, for instance, is exceedingly powerful in condens- 
ing the spirits, so powerful that a grain or two will tranquillize the 
nerves: and by a few grains they may be so compressed as to be 
irrecoverable: now, if there is an antipathy between opium and 
spirit, as there is sympathy between the magnet and iron, and the 
opium acts without intermission upon the spirit before it recovers 
itself, the cause of the condensation appears. ‘This may, perhaps, be 
illustrated by fainting from fear, where if the impression be re- 
peated before the spirits rally, the patient falls: but this may be 
prevented by the application of a stimulant, surprize from a sudden 
impulse, as a glass of water or the prick of a pin, or self possession. 

“Tam not sick, if Brutus have in hand 

« Any exploit worthy the name of honor.” 

This subject is more fully explained in the Novum Organum, 
where Bacon, speaking of what he calls magical instances, by which, 
<“‘ We understand such wherein the matter, or efficient, is but 
«* small, compared with the greatness of the work or effect produced: 
“so that though these instances were common, they would still be 
< almost miraculous ; some of them at first sight, and others even 
‘‘ when attentively considered.” 

That great effects are sometimes produced by apparently small 
causes, is obvious—‘“ By the rapid and powerful expansion of gun- 
‘powder into flame, vast masses of building are in a moment 
= overturned, and great weights thrown to considerable distances— 
«‘ By some poisons the most powerful animals may in a moment be 
“< destroyed.” 

The following experiments made with a peculiar poison, will 
illustrate this—— 

«© Mons. Condamine relates the experiments made by him with 
‘ the vegetable poison of ‘ticunas’ mixed with that of ‘ lamas” 

«¢ June 8th.—I made a very small incision with a lancet between 
« the ears of a cat, and with a pencil I put into it a drop of the poi- 
‘son: in an instant the creature died in my hands. 

«« July 15.—I pricked a hawk in the left claw: into the puncture 
<< [ introduced a small drop of the poison, and then set the creature 
“at liberty; but he could not fly: the utmost he could do was to 
« perch on a stick, which was within six inches cf the ground. He 
« shook his head several times, as if to get rid of something that 
<« seemed troublesome in his throat. His eyes were restless, and his 
<< feathers were all bristled up. His head fell between his legs, and 
‘‘ in three minutes he died. 

“«‘ M. le Chevalier de Grossee had an eagle, which he kept a good 
<¢ while in his court-yard, and intended to make a present of it to M. 
« Reaumur, to adorn his cabinet, but wanted to know how to put it 
‘« to death without injuring its feathers. M. de Reaumur sent him an 
“ arrow fresh dipped in the poison: it was stuck into the wing of 
« this large bird, the eagle dropped down dead in an instant.” 

These effects, Bacon says, may be ascribed to one or more of 
three causes. 

‘4, By self-multiplication, as in fire, and those poisons, called 
“specific; as also in motions, which pass and increase, as they go © 
<< from wheel to wheel; (2.) by excitation, or invitation, in another 
“body: as the loadstone animates numberless needles, without 


ast. k eth 


NOTE A. ee 501 


“Joss, or diminution of its virtue; and we find the same kind of 
“ virtue in yeast, &c. (3.) by the preoccupation of motion.” 

Under the head of hydrometical instances in the Novum Or- 
ganum, the expression of preoccupation of motion is explained. 
“ When a musical string is struck, it vibrates, and the strings 
“appear double, treble, &c. Rings, twirled upon an axis, appe 
“ spheres. A lighted stick moved quickly in acircle, appears a circle 
«* of fire, or what boys call gold lace. <A lighted flambeau carried 
“ quickly by night, appears tailed like a comet.” But if these mo- 
tions, are performed slowly, such appearances do not exist. It 
seems, therefore, that they originate in a new impression being made 
before the effect of a former impression is removed, that is, by the 
motion of impulse being quicker than the motion of recovery. 

So too Bacon says, ‘‘ The effects produced by gunpowder, are 
** occasioned by the impelling power being quicker than the power 
“‘ of resistance.” He says, ** the cause whereofis doubtless this, 
“that the motion of dilatation in the powder, which is the impelling 
“force, is many degrees swifter than the motion of gravity, which 
‘“* makes the resistance, so that the prevailing motion is performed 
“ before the opposite motion begins, whilst at first there was a kind 
“of neutrality, or want of resistance. And hence, in all projec- 
“ tiles, it is not so much the strong as the sharp and quick stroke 
“that carries the body furthest.” And he adds, ‘ Nor was it 
“* possible that a small quantity of spirit in animals, especially in 
“them so bulky as the elephant, or the whale, should move and 
‘‘ manage so great a mass of matter, but for the velocity of the 
‘ motion of the spirit before the quantity of the corpereal mass 
** can resist.” 

Lord Bacon’s opinion supon vital spirit are chiefly contained in his 
History of Life and Death: but in his tract upon the Prolongation 
of Life in the treatise “‘ De Augmentis,” he says that length of life 
partly depends upon strengthening the resistance of the body, and 
diminishing the activity of the spirit. His words are— 

«Consumption is caused by two depredations, depredation of 
“* innate spirit ; and depredation of ambient air. The resistance of 
“both is two-fold, either when the agents (that is, the suck and 
“ moistures of the body) become less predatory, or the patients are 
“‘ made less depredable The spirit is made less predatory ; if either 
‘* it be condensed in substance, as in the use of opiates, and nitrous 
“‘ application, and in contristations ; or be diminished in quantity, 
“as in spare, Pythagorical, or monastical diets; or is sweetened and 
** refreshed with motion, as in ease and tranquillity.” 

“Our second precept is, that the prolongation of life be expected, 
“rather from working upon spirits, and from a malacissation or in- 
** teneration of parts, than from any kinds of aliment or order of diet. 
“ For seeing the body of man, and the frame thereof (leaving aside 
** outward accidents) three ways become passive, namely, from the 
“ spirits; from the parts ; and from aliments; the way of prolonga- 
** tion of life, by means of aliment is along way about, and that by 
** many ambages and circuits ; but the ways by working upon the 
* spirits, and upon the parts, are more compendious, and sooner 
“bring us to the end desired; because the spirits are suddenly 
*‘ moved, both from vapours and passions, which work strangel 
* upon them: and the parts, by baths, unguents, emplaisters, aiek 
** in like manner make way by sudden impressions.’ 

Shaw, in his edition of Bacon, lately published, says, “ the whole 


502 NOTE B. 


“ of this enquiry still remains strangely neglected, to the great dis- 
“‘ advantage of natural poate which seems almost a dead thing 
‘* without it.” But Professor Stewart, in his Essay, prefixed to the 
Supplement to the Scotch Encyclopedia, and Coleridge in his Aids 
to Reflection, page 92, consider this theory to be obsolete. 


NOTE B. 
Referring to page 125. 

In his history of Life and Death, he says, “‘ Concerning the times 
“ of nativity, as they refer to long life, nothing hath been observed 
“worthy the setting down; save only astrological observations, 
“‘ which we rejected in our topics. A birth at the eighth month, is 
*‘ not only not long-lived, but not likely to live. Also winter births 
** are accounted the longer lived.” 

And in some other part of his works, he says, a seven months 
child proves the strength of the infant, an eight months, the weakness 


of the mother. 


ee SL. ek 


oo ar A 


Axpuction of women made a capital offence, 226. 
Actzon and Penthus, exposition of fables of, 29. 
Amalthean horn, parable of, 60. 
Apollo, his contest with Pan expounded, 20. 
Archelous, exposition of the fable of, 59. 
Archery attributed to love, 46. 
Ariadne and Bacchus, parable of, 64. 
Arthur, Prince, birth of, 125. 
his marriage with the Princess Catharine, 374. 
dies at Ludlow, 376. 
Atalanta, exposition of the fable of, 66. 
Audley, Lord, heads the Cornish insurgents, 329. 
encamps on Blackheath, 332. 
defeated and taken prisoner, 336. 
beheaded, 337. 
Augustus Cesar, his civil character, 459. 
Bacchus, exposition of the fable of, 61. 
Bannocksburm, James III. killed at, 231. 
Blindness attributed to love, 46. 
Britany, designs of Charles VIII. upon, 200. 
Archbishop Morton’s speech to parliament respecting, 213. 
an army sent to the assistance of, 222. 
Broughton, Sir Thomas, in correspondence with the rebel Lord Lovel, 187. 
i joins the rebels, 191. 
slain near Newark, 194. 
Burgundy, Duchess of. See Margaret of Burgundy. 
Capel, Sir William, committed to the Tower, 404. 
Cassandra or Divination, 1. 
Castello the legate, made Bishop of Bath and Wells, 231. 
his conspiracy against Pope Leo X., 232. 
Catesby, William, his attainder, 119. 
Cato Uticensis, prophetic foresight of, 2. 
Cecile, Duchess of York, death of, 309. 
Ceres discovered by Pan, exposition of, 20. 
Charles VIII., state of France under, 199. 
_ embassy to King Henry, 201. 
invades Britany, 209. 
his attempts to defeat the marriage of Maximilian with the 
Duchess of Britany, 243. 
sends an embassy to Henry, 245. 
answer to his ambassadors, 252. 


904 INDEX. 


Charles VIII., marries the Duchess of Britany, 256. 
preparations for war against, 262. 
pretends to support Perkin Warbeck, 281. 
his success and misconduct in Italy, 308. 
recommends Perkin Warbeck to the King of Scotland, 313. 
death of, 360. 
Charles, Prince of Castile, his marriage with the Princess Mary, 404. 
Chariots, invention of, attributed to Ericthonius, 55. 
Cicero, his answer to the admonition of Decius Brutus, 58. 
Clergy, privileges of reduced, 226. 
Clifford, Sir Robert, joins in Perkin Warbeck’s conspiracy, 285. 
won over to the king, 290. 
impeaches the Lord Chamberlain to Henry, 296. 
Cloth manufactory, King Henry’s laws relating to, 338. 
Celum, exposition of fable of, 35. 
Counsellors of State, capital offence to conspire the death of, 225. 
Cupid and Pan, exposition of the fable of their wrestling, 20. 
Cupid, or an Atom, fable of, 43. 
generation and attributes of, 44. 
individualizes the desire excited by Venus, 48. 
Cyclops, exposition of the fable of, 5. 
instruments of terrour, 6. 
Dedalus, exposition of fable of, 51. 
Dam taken by stratagem by the Duke of Saxony, 264. 
D’ Aubigny, Lord, made lord chamberlain, 300. 
Democritus, his doctrine respecting an atom, 45. 
Deucalion, exposition of the fable of, 55. 
Diomedes, exposition of the fable of, 48. 
Dionysius, exposition of the fable of, 61. 
Dudley and Empson, wicked instruments of Henry, 380. 
made speaker of the house of commons, 386. 
Echo, story of her marriage with Pan expounded, 21. 
Edward Plantagenet imprisoned in the Tower, 111. 
shewn to the people, 135. 
his execution, 365. 
Egremont, Sir John, insurrection under, 229. 
flies to Margaret of Burgundy, 229. 
Elizabeth Plantagenet, married to King Henry, , 
crowned, 197. 
death of, $79. 
Elizabeth, Queen, felicities of, 457. 
Empson and Dudley, wicked instruments of Henry, 380. 
Endymion, exposition of the fable of, 26. 
Ericthonius, exposition of the fable of, 54. 
Europe, the state of, in 1580, 428. 
Exchequer standard, statute for disputing, 262. 
Exeter besieged by Perkin Warbeck’s followers, 347. | 
Fable of Cassandra, 1. 
of Typhon, 3. 
of Cyclops, or the Ministers of Terrour, 5. 
of Narcissus, or Self Love, 7. 
of Styx, or Leagues, 9. is 
of Pan, or Nature, 11. 
of Cupid and Pan wrestling, 20. 
of Pan discovering Ceres, 20. 
of Apollo’s musical contest with Pan, 20. 
of Pan’s marriage with Echo, 21. 
of Perseus, or War, 22. 
of the death of Medusa, 22. 
of the Gree, or Treasons, 25. 


INDEX. . 505 


Fable of Endymion, or a Favourite, 26. 
of the Sister of the Giants, or Fame, 28. 
of Acteon, and Pentheus, or A Curious Man, 29. 
of Orpheus, or Philosophy, 31. 
of Ceelum, or Beginnings, 35. 
of Proteus, or Matter, 33. 
of Memnon, or A Youth too forward, 40. 
of Tithonus, or Satiety, 41. 
of Juno’s Suitor, or Baseness, 42. 
. of Cupid, or an Atom, 43. 
| of Diomedes, or Zeal, 48. 
of Dedalus, or Perverted Mechanical Wisdom, 51. 
of Ericthonius, or Imposture, 54. 
of Deucalion, or Restitution, 55. 
of Nemesis, or Vicissitude of Things, 56. 
of Archelous, or Battle, 59. 
| of Dionysius, or Passion, 61. 
. of Jupiter and Semele, 61. 
of Atalanta, or Gain, 66. 
of Scylla and Icarus, or the Middle Way, $2. 
of Sphynx, or Science, 84. 
of Proserpina, or Spirit, 88. 
4 of Theseus and Penthous, 89, 92. 
of Metis, or Counsel, 93. 
of the Syrens, or Pleasures, 95. 
Fame, the Sister of the Giants, fable of, expounded, 28. 
Fears and Terrours, why Pan said to be the author of, 19. 
Ferdinand and Isabella, treaty of marriage between their daughter and Prince 
rthur, 340. 
conquest of Grenada by, 266. 
Ferrers, Lord, his attainder, 119. 
Fire, invention of, attributed to Prometheus, 72. 
Flemings, commercial treaty with, 325. 
Fox, Bishop of Exeter, keeper of the privy seal, 122, 
France, state of, under Charles VIII., 200. 
Gabato, Sebastian, his voyage to America, 357. 
Games of Prometheus, 81. 
Gree, treasons meant by, 25. 
Great Britain, fragment of a history of, 421. 
Grenada, conquest of by Ferdinand and Isabella, 266. 
thanksgiving at St. Paul’s for conquest of, 267. 
Greek Philosophers, excellencies and defects of, 45. 
Harmony and Empire, ensigns of, borne by Pan, 16. ~ 
Hammock Thomas, excites an insurrection in Cornwall, 328. 
defeated, aud executed, 337. 
Hialus, Peter, brings proposals for a marriage between Prince Arthur and a 
_ Princess of Spain, 340. 
sent ambassador to Scotland, 341. 
Henry VII. his accession to the crown, 105. 
difficulties of his title, 107. 
his entry into London, 112. 
his coronation, 115. 
holds his first parliament, 116. 
attainder of his enemies, 119. 
his marriage with the Lady Elizabeth, 122. ° 
his movements on the conspiracy in favour of Simnell, 190. 
keeps his Christmas at Norwich, 190. 
prepares to meet the insurgent army, 191. 
defeats the rebels near Newark, 194. 
causes the Queen to be crowned, 197, 


—s 


Pees eS lOO eee 


506 INDEX. 


Henry VII. sends an embassy to the Pope, 197. 
his truce with Scotland, 199. 
answer to the French King’s embassy respecting Britany, 204. 
propounds the cause of Britany to Parliament, 213. 
sends an army to assist the Duke of Britany, 222. 
marches against the insurgents in the north, 230. 
his character as a lawgiver, 233. 
designs in favour of Britany, 239. 
sends relief to Maximilian, 240. 
embassy from Charles of France, 245. 
his answer to France, 252. 
his iniquitous mode of extorting money, 380. 
his interview with king Phillip, 397. 
his treaty of marriage with Margaret of Savoy, 401. 
decline of his health, 403. 
his death, 406. 
character of, 406. 
Henry, Prince, (afterwards Henry VIII.) birth of, 256. 
created Duke of York, 265. 
Henry VIII. fragment of a history of, 418. 
Hercules liberating Prometheus, a type of Christian redemption, 82. 
Hippomenes and Atalanta, fable of, 66. 
Horns, why attributed to Pan, 15. 
Houses of husbandry, law respecting, 235. 
Icarus and Scylla, exposition of the fable of, 82. 
Inclosures of arable land become frequent, 234. 
Ivy, why held sacred to Bacchus, 65. 
James IIT. of Scotland, (see Scotland,) 231. 
John a Chamber, an insurgent, executed at York, 229. 
Juno’s suitor, explanation of the fable of, 42. 
Jupiter and Juno, a type of a Prince and his Dominions, 4. 
Jupiter and Semele, fable of, 61. 
Bacchus, parable of the confusion of, 65. 
Justices of Peace, statute relating to, 237. 
Kildare Earl of, supports the counterfeit Edward Plantagenet, 1380. 
slain near Newark, 194. 
Labyrinth of Daedalus, allegory of, 53. 
Land, statute for alienation of, 262. 
Laws, various improvements in, 226. 
Leagues, typified in the fable of Styx, 9. 
Lewis XI. of France, his custom of mixing with his inferiors, 27. 
Lincoln Earl of, joins in Simnell’s conspiracy, 136. 
his designs upon the crown, 136. 
departs for Flanders, 187. 
conducts his followers to York, 192. 
defeated and slain, near Newark, 194. 
Love, generation an attribute of, 44. 
Lovel Viscount, his attainder, 119. 
his rebellion, 123. 
his flight to Flanders, 124. 
drowned in the Trent, near Newark, 194. 
Margaret of Burgundy assists in the conspiracy against Henry, 187. 
sets up a counterfeit Duke of York, 276. 
Maximilian, assisted by Henry, 240). 
marries the Duchess of Britany, 242. 
how assisted in Flanders by King Henry, 265. 
Mechanical Wisdom, story of Dedalus applied to the perversion of, 51. 
Mint, King Henry’s laws for the correction of, 237. 
Medusa, fable of her being slain by Perseus, 22. 
Memnon, exposition of fable of, 40. 


w 


ee ee ee ee lee 


INDEX. 507 


Military power, how advanced under King Henry VIL., 235. 
Morton, made Archbishop of Canterbury, 28h; eee 
Lord Chancellor, his speech to parliament respecting Britany, 213. 
salutary laws made on the administration of, 223. 
Mountains, why Pan the resident of, 18. 
Murder and Manslaughter, amendment of the laws respecting, 226. 
Muses, why fabled to be the companions of Bacchus, 64. 
Music of Orpheus, explained to mean Philosophy, 33. 
Mysteries, danger of prying into, exemplified in the fate’of Pentheus, 30. 
Nakedness, attributed to Love, 46. 
Narcissus, exposition of the fable of, 7. 
Nature, Pan a type of, 11. 
Naval power how advanced under King Henry VII., 237. 
Nemesis, exposition of the fable of, 56. 
Nobility, superfluity of, decreases military power, 236. 
Norfolk, Duke of, his attainder, 119. 
Norham, besieged by the Scotch, 339. 
Northumberland, Earl of, slain by insurgents, 229. 
Northumberland ravaged by the Scotch, 318. 
(Edipus, his solution of the riddle of Sphynx, 85. 
Orpheus, exposition of fable of, 31. 
Pan, exposition of the fable of, 11. 
Parable. See fable. 
Pegassus, generation of, 26. 
Pentheus and Acton, exposition of fables of, 29. 
Perkin Warbeck, set up to personate the young Duke of York, 276. 
his birth and education, 377. — 
arrives in Ireland, 280. 
is supported by the King of France, 281. 
conspiracy in England in favour of, 285. 
approaches the coast of Kent, 805. 
returns to Flanders, and thence to Ireland, $12. 
secretly assisted by Maximilian and Charles of France, 313. 
arrives in Scotland, 318. 
his address to the King of Scotland, 313. 
is kindly entertained by the Scotch king, 318. 
enters Northumberland and publishes a proclamation, 318. 
the King of Scotland refuses to deliver him to Henry, 342. 
embarks for Ireland, 344. 
enters Cornwall, 346. 
insurrection in Cornwall in favour of, 347. 
takes sanctuary, $50. 
accepts Henry’s mercy, 353. 
his confession, 354. 
attempts to escape, 360. 
confined in the Tower, 361. 
conspiracy in the Tower in favour of, 362. 
executed at Tyburn, 364. 
Perseus, exposition of fable of, 22. 
Philip, king of Castile, driven upon the English coast, 895. 
his interview with King Henry, at Windsor, 327. 
Philosophers, (ancient) their excellencies and defects, 45. 
Philosophy, typified by the music of Orpheus, 33. 
Poynings, Sir Edward, sent to clear the seas and invest Sluice, 265. 
sent with a martial commission to Ireland, 302. 
his memorable law, 303. 
Princes, married to their dominions, as Jupiter to Juno, 4. 
fable of Endymion, relates to dispositions of, 27. 
Proclamation of Perkin Warbeck, 318. 
Prometheus, exposition of the fable of, 68. | 


VoL. 8. HH 


508 INDEX. 


Proserpina, exposition of the fable of, 88. 
Proteus, fable of, expounded, 38. 
Providence, represented by Prometheus, 71. 
Queen Elizabeth. See Elizabeth. 
Queen Dowager, confined in the nunnery of Bermondsey, 133. 
the strange reverses, 134. 
Ratcliffe Richard, his attainder, 119. 
Rebellion of Lord Lovel and the two Staffords, 123. 
Religious sects, effects of extirpating by violence, shadowed out in the fable 
of Diomedes, 50. 
Richard III., enormities committed by, 106. 
Rusticks, why Pan the God of, 18. 
Sanctuary, the privileges of qualified, 198. * 
Scotchmen, statute for voiding them out of England, 262. 
Scotland, truce with, 199. 
Perkin Warbeck’s reception in, 313. 
King of, ravages Northumberland, 318. 
preparations for a war with, 331. 
King of, lays siege to Norham, 339. 
treaty of peace with, 342. 
peace with, 560. 
Sects in religion, effects of extirpating by violence, shadowed out in the fable 
of Diomedes, 50. 
Scylla and Charybdis, exposition of the fable of, 8%. 
Self-love, typified in Narcissus, 7. 
Semele and Jupiter, fable of, 61. 
Sheen Palace, burning of, 355. 
Simnell made to personate Edward Plantagenet, 127. 
is taken to Ireland, 130. 
his entry into Dublin as Edward VI., 131. 
crowned in Dublin, 189. 
taken prisoner near Newark, 194. 
made a scullion in the king’s kitchen, 195. 
Simon the priest imprisoned for life, 195. 
Sphynx, exposition of the fable of, 84. 
Stafford, Humphrey and Thomas, their rebellion, 123. 
executed at Tyburn, 124. 
Stanley, Sir William, lord chamberlain, joins in Perkin Warbeck’s conspiracy, 
impeached by Sir Robert Clifford, 290. 
his great power and riches, 291. 
beheaded, 292. 
Star Chamber, court of, confirmed by parliament, 224. 
constitution of, 224. 
Statute to frustrate a future statute, effect of, 310. 
Styx, exposition of the fable of, 9. 
Subsidies, refusal to pay in Yorkshire and Durham, 227. 
insurrection respecting, 229. 
insurrection in Cornwall respecting, 328. 
Suffolk, Earl of, seduced to return to England, 398. 
committed to the Tower, 398. 
Superstitious ceremonies, why attributed to Bacchus, 65. 
Surry, Earl of, his attainder, 119. 
Sweating sickness rages in London, 113. 
Terrours, Cyclops the ministers of, 6. 
; and fears, why Pan said.to be the author of, 19. 
Tithonus and Aurora, exposition of fable of, 41. 
Tiberius, his habit of descending to his inferiors, 27. 
Typhon, exposition of the fable of, 3. 
meaning of his being caught in a net by Pan, 20. 


3 , -s ENDEX. 509 
i a. ee 
_* Tyrrel, Sir James, his seouamy t of the murder of the princes in the Tower, 287. 
sury, laws against, 227, = ~~ 
” eam desire of procreation éxcited by, 48. 
War, Perseus a type of, 22. 


requisites for, typified in the gifts of the gods to Perseus, 23, 24, 25. 
Warbeck. See Perkin Warbeck. 


Warnham, Dr. his speech to the Archduke Philip respecting Perkin Warbeck, 


290. 
Wilford, Ralph, personates the Earl of Warwick, 368. 
Wine, invention of, attributed to Bacchus, 63. 
Wisdom of the ancients, 1 to 99. 
_ Woodvill, Lord, sails to the aid of Britany, 210. 
slain in battle, 222. 
Zouch, Lord, his attainder, 119. 


END OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 


+ 


Thomas White, Printer, 
Crane Court. 


a 


et 


* 


oe 


oe 
vo 
—~ 
"] 
ie) 
o., 
"oO 
oa 
iso} 
O 
~> 
Be 
s 
he 
-Q 
onl 
vl 
: 
13) 
< 


REMOVE 
POCKET 


"ON#S4U0H TIseq “pe S2eTt 


“III °ToO, "835104 
Set 
£OSTIT Spur *uooeg s0TTUgZ 


won" 


4 
4 
{ 
3 4 
1 
H 
4