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LCRETTO  ABBEY  CoutcE 


THE 

HISTORY    OF     ENGLAND, 
VOL.  IV. 


CO 


- 


- 


THE 


HISTORY   OF   ENGLAND, 


FROM  THE   FIRST 


INVASION   BY   THE   ROMANS 


TO  THE 


ACCESSION    OF   WILLIAM   AND   MARY 
IN    1088. 

BY  JOHN  LINGARD,   D.D. 

GTIjc  £iitfj  Cfcttion,  &rfaisrt  anfc  constorrablo  CrnlanjrtJ, 
IN  TEN   VOLUMES. 


VOL.  IV. 


DUBLIN: 
JAMES  DUFFY  &  SONS,  WELLINGTON  QUAY; 

AVV 

LONDON :  IA,  PATERNOSTER  ROW. 

MDCCCLXXVIII. 


TVTMAN  AND   80X8,   PRINTERS, 
GK2AT  QUEEN  STREET,    LINCOLN'3   :NN 
LONDON.  W,C. 


CONTENTS 


OF 


THE  FOURTH  VOLUME, 


CHAPTER  I 


HENRY  VI. 


Government  during  the  Minority—  Duke  of  Bedford  Regent  of  France-  Jacque^ 
line  of  Bavaria-Siege  of  Orleans-Joan  of  Arc-Charles  is  crowned  at 


--  -^        ,  «  vw       vj       V/  VlVltt-U/       it* 

_..„..,  „,„  ..  „,,„ — .ixij/ «,*«//*  u/  tfie  Dw&e  o/  Burgundy — Armistice 
..,  England  and  France— Disputes  in  the  English  Cabinet— The  Anna's 
Marriage— Deaths  of  Gloucester  and  Beaufort— Loss  of  the  French  Provinces 
-Impeachment  and  Murder  of  Suffolk-Cade's  Insurrection-Duke  of  York 
Protector— Henry  recovers  his  Authority— Disasters  of  the  Yorkists— Tfieir 
subsequent  Success — The  Duke  rs  declared  Heir  to  the  Throne— Is  killed  at 
Wakefield— His  Son  Edward  enters  London— And  is  proclaimed  King. 
Settlement  of  the  government  2 

Death  of  Charles  of  France  3 

Conduct  of  duke  of  Bedford  ib. 

Battle  of  Crevant  . .  4 

Charles  receives  succour  ib. 

Liberation  and  marriage  of  the 

king  of  Scotland         . .  5 

Battle  of  Verneuil          . .  6 

Story  of  Jacqueline  of  Bavaria. .      ib. 

She  is  married  to   the  duke  of 

Gloucester       . .          . .          . .        7 

Opposition  in  the  council  8 

Quarrel  between  Gloucester  and 

Beaufort          ...  9 

They  are  reconciled         .  10 

Submission  of  Bretagne  .  ]  1 

Siege  of  Orleans . .  .  ]  2 

The  battle  of  Rouvrai      .  13 

Story  of  Joan  d'Arc         .  ib. 

15 


Her  introduction  to  Charles 


And  to  the  army 

She  enters  Orleans 

Destroys  several  forts 

The  siege  is  raised 

Losses  of  the  English 

Charles  is  crowned  at  Rheims 

The  armies  meet  at  Senlis 

And  separate  without  a  battle. . 

Joan  is  made  prisoner    . 

Her  trial..     '     .. 

Judgment 

And  execution 

Henry  is  crowned  in  England 

And  at  Paris 

Quarrel  between  the  dukes  of 
Bedford  and  Burgundy 

Congress  of  Arras 

Peace  between  France  and  Bur- 
gundy 

Subsequent  events  of  the  war  . . 


15 

17 

ib. 

ib. 

18 

ib. 

19 

ib. 

20 

21 

ib. 

ib. 

ib. 

22 

ib. 
23 

ib. 
24 


CONTENTS. 


Death  of  the  duke  of  Bedford  . .  24 

Loss  of  Paris ib. 

Hostilities  with  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy . .         . .  ib. 

A  famine..         ..  ..25 

Siege  of  Harfleur                      . .  ib. 

Negotiations       . .  26 

An  armistice       . .  27 

Transactions  with  Scotland       . .  28 

Defeat  of  Sir  Robert  Ogle       /f  29 
Marriages    of  Queen   Catherine 

and  the  duchess  of  Bedford  . .  ib. 

Education  of  Henry       ..         ..  30 

Disputes  between  Gloucester  and 

the  cardinal     . .          . .          . .  3t 

Beaufort  created  apostolic  legate  32 
Beaufort    raises    troops   for  the 

crusade            . .         . .  33 

He  becomes  popular      . .          . .  ib. 

Charges  against  him       . .          . .  34 

Liberation  of  the  duke  of  Orleans  36 
Prosecution   of    the    duchess  of 

Gloucester 37 

The  king's«marriage       . .          . .  38 

Arrest  and  death  of  Gloucester. .  40 

Conspiracy  against  the  kiug     . .  ib. 

Death  of  Beaufort          ..          ..  41 

Eichard  duke  of  York  . .         . .  ib. 

Cession  of  Anjou  and  Maine     . .  42 

The  loss  of  Rouen          . .          . .  43 

Of  all  Normandy            ..          ..  44 

And  of  Guienne . .          . .  ib. 

The  public  discontent    . .         . .  ib. 

Charges  against  Suffolk. .  45 

He  is  sent  to  the  Tower           . .  ib. 

Is  impeached  by  the  king         . .  46 

His  defence         . .         . .  ib. 

He  is  banished    . .         . .  47 

Leaves  the  kingdom      ..         ...  ib. 

And  ia  murdered  at  sea. .          . .  ib. 

insurrection  48 


Complaints  and  demands  of  the 

insurgents        . .         . .          . .  48 

Battle  at  Sevenoaks       . .         . .  49 

Fate  of  Cade  and  his  followers. .  50 

Return  of  the  duke  of  York     . .  ib. 

Disputes  in  parliament  ..         . .  51 

York  raises  forces,  and  :ubmits  52 
An  unsuccessful  attempt  to  reco- 
ver Guienne    . .          . .          . .  53 

Birth  of  a  prince  . .          . .  ib. 

Henry's  incapacity         . .          . .  ib. 

York  is  made  protector. .  54 

The  king  recovers  . .          . .  55 

Battle  of  St.  Alban's     . .          . .  ib. 

The  king  is  in  the  hands  of  the 

Yorkists          56 

York  protector  a  second  time  . .  ib. 
Henry  recovers  again    . .          . .  57 
Reconciliation   of  the   two  par- 
ties         58 

They  quarrel  again         . .          . .  59 

Battle  of  Bloreheath      . .          . .  ib. 

The  Yorkists  are  dispersed       . .  60 

Yorkists  attainted          . .          . .  ib. 

They  raise  an  army        . .          . .  61 

And  make  the  king  prisoner    . .  ib. 
The  duke  avows  his  claim  to  the 

crown   . .          . .         . .  62 

It   is    brought  forward    by  his 

counsel  . .          . .          . .  ib. 

Objections  to  the  duke's  claim . .  63 

A  compromise     . .          . .  64 

Battle  of  Wakefield       ..          ..  ib. 

The  duke  is  slain  . .          . .  ib. 

Battle  of  Mortimer's  Cross       . .  65 

Second  battle  at  St.  Alban's     . .  ib. 

The  king  is  free  again   . .          . .  ib. 

Edward,  the  new  duke  of  York, 

in  London       . .         . .          . .  ib. 

Powers  of  the  House  of  Lords . .  6ti 

Rights  of  the  Commons. .         . .  67 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EDWARD    IV. 

Edward  is  crowned— Misfortunes  of  the  Lancastrians— Henry  VI.  is  made 

Prisoner Edward's  Marriage— Insurrection — The  King  imprisoned  by  the 

Nevilles His  Release — Another  Insurrection — Cla'-ence  and  Warwick  leave 

the  Realm— Return— Expel  Edward— And  restore  Henry— Edward  returns— 
His  Victory  at  Barnet— Capture  and  Death  of  Henry— Battle  of  Tewksbury 
jjrar  with  France — Peace — Attainder  of  Clarence — Death  of  the  King. 

Battle  of  Towton 
Edward  is  crowned 

Bill  of  attainder 

The  king's  speech 

Exertions  of  Queen  Margaret  . . 

She  is  shipwrecked 

Her  adventure  in  a  forest 

Battles   of    Hedgley  Moor  and 

Hexham 

Henry  is  made  prisoner 
Edward's   treaties  with   foreign 
powers. .          . .          . . 

His  clandestine  marriage 
The  queen  is  acknowledged  and 
crowned 

All  her  relations  provided  for  . . 

Discontent  of  the  Nevilles 

Reconciliation 

Clarence  married  to  the  daughter 
of  Warwick 

Insurrection  in  Yorkshire 

Edward  is  in  distress 

Battle  at  Edgecoat 

Edward    is   made   prisoner  and 
confined 

He  is  released 

His  eldest  daughter  promised  to 
George  Neville 

Another  rupture  and  reconcilia- 
tion 

Insurrection  of  Sir  Robert  Welles 

Battle  of  Erpingham 

Flight  of  Clarence  and  Warwick 

They  are  excluded  from  Calais. . 

Their  reception  by  Louis  XI.  . . 

Clarence  is  dissatisfied 

The  exiles  return  and  land 


69 
70 
ib. 
71 
ib. 
72 
73 

ib. 

74 

ib. 
76 

77 
ib. 
ib. 
79 

80 
ib. 
81 
82 

83 
ib. 

84 

ib 
8£ 
ib. 
86 
ib. 
81 
ib. 
88 


Edward  is  driven  out  of  the  king- 

,  OO 

dom 

lenry  is  restored  ..          ..      89 

Settlement  of  the  succession  . .  ib. 
Conduct  of  foreign  powers  . .  90 
Edward  lands  in  England  . .  ib. 
And  is  admitted  into  London  . .  91 

Battle  of  Barnet ib. 

Landing  of  Queen  Margaret     . .      92 
Battle  of  Tewksbury      . .          . .      ib. 
Execution  of  the  duke  of  Somer- 
set         93 

Murder  of  Henry  VI.    .  .      94 

Queen  Margaret. .  .95 

The  duke  of  Exeter       .  .     ib. 

The  earl  of  Oxford         .  .      ib. 

Fate  of  the  Lancastrians  .      96 

The  archbishop  of  York  .      ib. 

The  earls  of  Pembroke  and  Rich- 
mond   . .          . .          . .  ib* 

Morton  and  Fortescue  . .          . .      ib. 

Quarrel   between  Clarence  and 

Gloucester 98 

Alliance  against  France  . .      99 

Edward  lands  in  France  . .      ib. 

Policy  of  Lovis 100 

Peace  and  alliance  with  France  101 
The  king  and  his  favourites  accept 

annuities  from  him  . .  . .  ib. 
Edward's  method  of  raising  money  102 
Discontent  and  imprisonment  of 

Clarence          ib. 

He  is  condemned  and  put  to  death  103 
War  with  Scotland  ..  ..104 
Siege  of  Berwick  . .  * .  105 
Edward  is  duped  by  Louis  . .  ib. 
His  death..  10« 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  III. 
EDWARD  Y. 

Conduct  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester— Arrests— The  Duke  is  made  Protector— 

Murder  of  Lord  Hastings  and  the  Earl  Rivers — Penance  of  Jane  Shore The 

Duke  aspires  to  the  Crown— Sermon  in  his  Favour— Speech  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham— Offer  of  the  Crown  to  Gloucester— Who  accepts  it. 


State  of  parties  at  the  death  of 
Edward  107 

Orders  issued  for  the  coronation 
of  his  son  . .  . .  . .  108 

Conduct  of  Richard  duke  of 
Gloucester 109 

He  receives  the  king's  relations       ib. 

And  arrests  them          . .          . .     ib. 

The  young  king  enters  London      110 

The  duke  is  made  protector      . .     ib. 

Murder  of  Lord  Hastings         ..    Ill 


And  of  the  prisoners  at  Pontefract  111 
The  queen  surrenders  her  second 

son        H2 

Penance  of  Jane  Shore  . .  . .  113 
Sermon  in  favour  of  the  protector's 

right  to  the  crown      . .         . .    114 
Speech  of  the  duke  of  Bucking- 
ham       115 

Petition  presented  to  the  protector  ib. 
He  accepts  the  crown  . .  . .  116 
And  takes  possession  . .  . .  ib. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
RICHARD  III. 

Coronation  of  Richard— Death  of  his  two  Nephews— Conspiracy  against  him 
defeated— Is  reconciled  with  Elizabeth— Wishes  to  marry  his  Niece— Raises 
<m  Army  against  the  Earl  of  Richmond— Is  killed  in  the  Battle  at  Bosworth 


Coronation  of  Richard  ..  ..  116 
Hig  progress  through  the  kingdom  117 
And  coronation  at  York  . .  ib. 

Confederacy  against  him  ..  118 

Death  of  his  nephews  ..  ..119 
Conspiracy  in  favour  of  the  earl 

of  Richmond ib. 

Insurrection        ..          ..          ..120 

Richard  is  successful      . .          . .    121 

He  assembles  a  parliament  . .  ib. 
Attempts  to  defeat  the  plans  of 

Henry  . .          . .          ..          . .    122 

Prevails  on  Elizabeth  to  quit  the 

sanctuary        . .         . .         . .      ib. 


Death  of  the  king's  son . .  . .  1 22 
Henry  flees  from  Bretagne  into 

France..          ..          ..          ..  123 

Negotiations  with  Scotland  . .  ib. 
The  king  wishes  to  marry  the 

princess  Elizabeth      . .         . .  ib. 

But  is  dissuaded  . .          . .          . .  124 

His  difficulties  and  preparations  ib. 

His  distrust  of  Lord  Stanley    . .  125 

His  proclamation           . .          . .  #. 

Henry  lands  in  Wales   . .          . .  126 

Battle  of  Bosworth  . .  ..  ib. 

Richard  is  slain 127 

His  character 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HENRY  VII. 

Proceedings  **/"******-***  King's  Marriage—  Insurrectim  in  Favour  vf 
apretended  Larlof  Warwick-Coronation  of  the  Queen-Warin  Bretagne^ 
Imposture  of  Perfon  Warleclc-He  w  executed-  Also  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
DeT7pW-  faf*~5™  Scotl™d-With  Spain-Mairiag"™* 
Death  of  Pnnce  Arthur-Henry's  Rapacity-Hi*  Illness  and  Death-Hi, 


Defects  of  Henry's  title.  . 
He  sends  Elizabeth  to  London.  . 
The  king  makes  his  entry  into  the 
capital  ........ 

The  sweating  sickness  .  .          .  . 

Proceedings  in  parliament        .  . 
Settlement  of  the  crown  .. 

The  king  marries  Elizabeth      .  . 
Insurrection  of  Lord  Lovel       .. 
The  king's  progress  through  the 
realm    ........ 

Treaty  with  Scotland    .  .          .  . 

Birth  of  a  prince.  .          ..          .. 

A  pretended  earl  of  Warwick  .  . 
He  is  received  in  Ireland          .  . 
The  king's  conduct  on  the  occa- 
m  8ion       ........ 

The  pretender  is  joined  by  the 
earl  of  Lincoln  ..          .. 

He  lands  in  Furness  —  Battle  at 
Stoke   ........ 

Coronation  of  the  queen  .. 

x  Jurisdiction  of  the  Star  Chamber 

Prolongation  of  peace  with  Scot- 

4land      •  ....... 

Anne  of  Bretagne          .  .          .  . 

Henry's  affected  delays.  .          .  . 

Henry  protends  to  assist  her    .  . 
Battle  of  Dixmude         ..          .. 

Insurrection  in  Northumberland 

Anne  of  Bretagne  married  by 

* 


12 
12 

t-j 
ib 

13( 
131 
132 


134 
fa 
135 


136 
137 

138 
139 

140 

141 
fa 

142 

143 
fa 

144 


blie  is  compelled  to  marry  the 

king  of  France  ..          ..145 

Henry  prepares  for  war.  .  .'.  U6 
He  lands  in  France  .  .  .  .  {0 
And  concludes  a  peace  with 


Story  of  Perkin  Warbeck          . .    147 
He  is  acknowledged  in  France        fa 
And  by  the  duchess  of  Burgundy    fa 
Henry  seeks  to  obtain  possession 
of  Warbeck     ..          ..          ..148 

His  friends  are  betrayed  .'.'     fa 

His  partisans  executed  . .          . .      fa 

Submission  of  the  Irish             . .    150 
Proceedings  in  parliament        . .      fa 
Warbeck  attempts  to  land         . .    151 
Warbeck    is    received    in    Scot- 
land       fa 

He  invades  England  . .  . .  152 
Insurrection  in  Cornwall  . .  fa 

Peace  with  Scotland  ..  ..153 
Warbeck  in  Cornwall  . .  . .  154 
He  flies  to  a  sanctuary  . .  . .  fa 
Submits  to  the  king  . .  . .  t'j 

Escapes 165 

Confesses  the  imposture  . .      fa 

A  pretended  earl  of  Warwick  . .  fa 
Execution  of  Warbeck  ..  ..  15(J 
And  of  the  real  earl  of  Warwick  ib. 
>eaties  with  France  ..  ..157* 
Veaties  with  Scotland  . .  . .  fa 

arriage  of  James  with  the  king's 

daughter          153 

Carriage  of  Prince  Arthur       ..    159 
[is  death  ..  ..         ...  IQQ 

Contract    of   marriage  between 

Henry  and  Catherine  . .      fa 

The  king  and  queen  of  Castile  in 

England  162 

Henry  gets  possession  of  the  earl 

of  Suffolk         163 

'ew  projects  of  marriage  ..   164 

lie  king's  schemes  to  get  money  If  5 

His  sickness  and  death  . .          ..166 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HENRY  VIII. 

Recession  and  Marriage  of  Henry  VI II. —Punishment  of  Empson  and  Dudley 
—State  of  Europe—  War  with  France— Inglorious  Campaign  in  Spain- 
Invasion  of  France— Victory  at  Guinegatc— Defeat  of  the  Scots  at  Flodden 
Peace — Rise,  Power,  and  Character  of  Wohey. 


Accession  of  Henry  VIII. 

His  marriage  and  coronation    . . 

Arrest  and  execution  of  Empson 

and  Dudley 

The  king's  amusements 
Political  state  of  Italy 
League  of  Cambray 
Eupture  between  the  pope  and 

France 

Maximilian,  Ferdinand,  &  Henry 

aid  the  pope 
Expedition  against  Guienne     . . 

Action  by  sea 

The     French     driven     out     of 

Italy     .. 

Louis  solicits  peace 
Death  of  the  lord  admiral 
Invasion  of  France 
Siege  of  Terouenne 
Battle  of  Spurs  . . 


168 
169 

ib. 
170 

ib. 
171 

ib. 

172 
173 
174 

175 
ib. 

176 
76. 

177 
ib. 


Jause  of  the  war  with  Scotland 
James  favours  the  French 
[nvades  England 
[s  opposed  by  the  earl  of  Surrey 
Battle  of  Flodden 
James  is  slain 
Surrender  of  Tournay 
A  general  pacification    . . 
Louis  marries  Mary 
And  dies 

Marriage  of  Mary  and  Suffolk 
Rise  of  Wolsey 
Affairs  of  Scotland 
Francis  reconquers  Milan 
Conduct  of  Henry 
Perpetual  alliance  with  France 
Wolsey's  power 

His  wealth          

His  character 
His  foreign  politics 


178 

179 

ib. 

180 

181 

182 

ib. 

184 

185 

186 

ib. 

187 

188 

190 

ib. 

191 

ib. 

192 

193 

194 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Charles  V.  is  elected  Emperor — Interview  between  Henry  and  Francis — A  iresl 
and  Execution  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham— Wolsey  is  Arbitrator  between 
Francis  and  Charles— Is  disappointed  of  the  Papacy— Is  opposed  in  his 
Attempt  to  raise  Money— The  English  invade  France— Battle  of  Pavia,  and 
Captivity  of  Francis — Henry  deserts  Charles,  and  makes  Peace  with  France 

Treaty  of  Madrid— Origin  of  the  Reformation — Henry  ivrites  against 

Luther— He  is  declared  Defender  of  the  Faith. 

Competition  between  Charles  and 

Francis  . .          •  •          •  •    I 

Henry  seeks  the  imperial  crown   195 
Charles  elected  emperor  . .      ib. 

Francis  solicits  an  interview  with 

Henry 196 

Charles  visits  him  first  . .          . .      tfr. 
Interview  of  the  kings  _          . .    197 


Henry  visits  Charles   '..          ..    193 
Accusation  of  the  duke  of  Buck- 
ingham   199 

His  arrest  ib. 

And  execution 200 

Francis  makes  war  upon  Charles  201 
Wolsey  arbitrator  between  them  ib. 
His  award  202 


CONTENTS. 


He  aspires  to  the  papacy 

And  is  disappointed 

Second     visit     from     the     em- 
peror 

Attempts  to  raise  money^ 

Surrey's  expedition  into  France 

Francis  makes  a  treaty  with  Des- 
mond in  Ireland 

And  urges  the  Scots  to   invade 
England 

Proceedings    in    parliament   re- 
specting grants  of  money 

Also  in  convocation 

Another   invasion  of  the  Scots 
repulsed 

Suffolk  invades  France 

Emperor  takes  Fontarabia 

French  successful  in  Italy 

Wolsey  again  aspires  to  the  pa- 
pacy 

French  driven  out  of  Italy 

And  the  Imperialists  from  Mar- 
seilles 

Origin  of  the  dissension  between 
Charles  and  Henry 

Battle  of  Pavia 

Captivity  of  Francis 

Defeat  of  illegal  attempts  to  raise 
money 


203 
204 

ib. 

205 
ib. 

206 
ib. 

207 
ib. 

208 

210 

211 

ib. 

ib. 
ib. 

212 

ib. 

214 

ib. 

215 


Dissension  between  Henry  and 

Charles  215 

Henry  makes  peace  with  France  216 
Francis  is  carried  to  Spain  . .  217 
Obtains  his  release  by  the  treaty 

of  Madrid 

Cunning  of  the  English  cabinet 
Francis  breaks    his    faith    with 

Charles  

Origin  of  the  Reformation 
Luther  opposes  the  indulgences 
He  is  condemned  at  Rome        . . 
He  appears  before  the  legate    . . 
Is  protected  by  the  elector  Fre- 
deric 
Circumstances  favourable  to  his 

views    . .          . .          •  •          •  •    224 
His    assertions    condemned    by 

Pope  Leo        ..          ..     .    ••    226 
He  is  proscribed  at  the  diet  of 

Worms 227 

Henry  writes  against  him  . .  228 
And  is  declared  defender  of  the 

faith ib. 

Luther  replies,  and    apologizes 

for  his  reply    .. 

Henry  answers  him  . .  . .  ib. 
Progress  of  the  Reformation  . .  230 
Confederation  at  Torgau  . .  ib. 


218 


219 
220 
221 
222 
223 

ib. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Anne  Boleyn— Origin  of  the  Divorce— Negotiations  with  the  Pontiff— Sweating 
Sickness— Arrival  of  Cardinal  Campeggio— Delays  and  Expedients— Lega- 
tine  Court — Departure  of  Campeggib — Disgrace  and  Death  of  Wolsey— Power 
of  Anne  Boleyn— The  new  Ministry— Rise  of  Cromwell— Concessions  extorted 
from  the  Clergy. 


The  king's  mistresses    . .         . .  231 

Anne  Boleyn 232 

Origin  of  the  divorce      . .  234 

Events  in  Italy  . .  235 

Sack  of  Rome     . .  236 

Negotiations       . .  237 

King  consults  divines  238 

Wolsey  goes  to  France  239 

Treaties   ....  240 
King   resolves  to    marry  Anne 

Boleyn 242 

A.  divorce  demanded  of  the  pon- 
tiff                                           .  243 


His  reply 

Henry  defies  Charles 
Popular  dissatisfaction 
Project  of  a  decretal  bu  1 
Wolsey's  perplexity 
A  legate  appointed 
Cardinal  Campeggio 
The  sweating  sickness 
Campeggio  arrives 
His  caution 
King's  speech 
New  demands  of  Wolsey 
Expedients  suggested    . 


244 

ib. 
245 
246 
247 

ib. 

ib. 
249 
251 

ib. 
252 

ib. 

ib. 


in 


CONTENTS. 


Constancy  of  Clement  ..  ..  254 

Anne  Boleyn  rules  at  court  . .  255 

The  legates  hear  the  cause  . .  ib. 

They  adjourn  the  court  . .  257 

Attempts  to  ruin  Wolsey  . .  259 

His  disgrace  262 

He  receives  some  favours  from 

Henry . .          . .          . .  ib. 

His  conduct  in  Yorkshire  . .  263 

He  is  arrested  for  treason  . .  ib. 

His  death  264 

The  new  cabinet  . .  . .  ib. 

More  is  made  chancellor  . .  265 
Attack  on  the  immunities  of  the 

clergy 266 

Embassy  to  Bologna  . .  . .  ib. 

Answer  of  Charles  ..  ..  267 

Opinions  of  the  universities  . .  268 

In  Italy ib. 

Germany . .          . .          . .  ib. 

And  France  ..  ..269 


Letters  to  Clement         . .          . .    269 

His  answer          . .          . .          . .    270 

The  king  wavers  . .          . .    271 

Rise  of  Cromwell  . .          . .      ib. 

Who  confirms   the  king  in  his 

resolution         272 

The  clergy  in  a  przemunire       . .    273 
They  acknowledge  the   king  as 

head  of  the  church  . .  . .  ib. 
Messages  to  Catherine  . .  . .  274 
York  offered  to  Reginald 

Pole ib. 

Clement  writes  to  Henry          . .   275 
Annates  abolished          . .          . .    276 
Clergy  forbidden  to  make  consti- 
tutions  277 

Breve  against  the  cohabitation 

of  Henry  with  Anne  . .  . .  ib. 
Interview  between  Henry  and 

Francis  278 

Their  resolves     ,  t'6. 


APPENDIX 


HISTORY 

OF 

ENGLAND, 


CHAPTEK  1. 


HENRY  VI. 


CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


Emp.  of  Gtrm. 
Bigismund  1437 
Albert    1439 
Frederic  III. 

Martin 

K.  of  Scotland. 
James  1  1437 
James  II  1460 
James  III. 
Po 
V.  1431.        Eugenius 
Calixtus  III.  1^ 

K.  of  Trance. 
Charles  VI  1422 
Charles  VII. 

IV.'  1447.       Nicholas  ^ 
158.        Piui  TI. 

JT.  of  Spain. 
John  11  1i5i 

Henry  IV. 
7.  1455. 

GOVERNMENT    DURING    THE    MINORITY DUKE    OF    BEDFORD    REGENT    Of    FRANCE— 

JACQUELINE  OF  BAVARIA — SIEGE  OF  ORLEANS — JOAN  OF  ARC — CHARLES  II 
CROWNED  AT  RHEIMS— HENRY  AT  PARIS— DEFECTION  OF  TUB  DUKE  OF  BUR- 
GUNDY  ARMISTICE  BETWEEN  ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE D1PSUTES  IN  THE  ENGLISH 

CABINET THE    KING'S     MARRIAGE DEATHS     OF     GLOUCESTER     AND     BEAUFORT 

LOSS    OF   THE    FRENCH    PROVINCES— IMPEACHMENT    AND    MURDER    OF    SUFFOLK 

CADE'S    INSURRECTION — DUKE    OF    YORK     PROTECTOR— HENRY     RECOVERS    HIS 

AUTHORITY — DISASTERS   OF  THE   YORKISTS THEIR    SUBSEQUENT    SUCCESS — THJI 

DUKE  IS  DECLARED  HEIR  TO  THE  THRONE IS  KILLED  AT  WAKEFIELB — HIS  SON 

EDWARD    ENTERS    LONDON AND    IS    PROCLAIMED    KING. 


THE  French  throne  was  preserved 
from  ruin  by  the  premature  death  of 
Henry  V.  The  task  of  maintaining 
the  ascendancy  which  he  had  gained 
devolved  on  an  infant  successor  and 
a  divided  ministry ;  while  the  dauphin 
in  the  vigour  of  youth,  and  seconded 
by  the  wishes  of  the  people,  called  the 
different  factions  under  his  banner, 
and  directed  their  combined  efforts 
against  the  invaders  of  their  country. 
"Wo  shall  see  that  prince  recover  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years  the  crown  of 
bis  ancestors,  expel  the  English  from 
their  conquests,  and  seal  a  long  series 
of  success  with  the  subjugation  of 
G,%scony,  the  last  fragment  of  the 


ancient  patrimony  belonging  to  the 
English  monarchs  in  France. 

The  new  king,  the  son  of  Henry 
and  Catherine,  was  hardly  nino 
months  old.  On  the  first  advice  of 
his  father's  decease,  several  spiritual 
and  temporal  peers,  chiefly  members 
of  the  old  council,  assembled  at  West- 
minster, issued  commissions  in  the 
name  of  Henry  VI.  to  the  judges, 
sheriffs,  and  other  officers,  to  continue 
in  the  exercise  of  their  respective 
duties,  and  summoned  a  parliament 
to  meet  in  the  beginning  of  Novem« 
ber.  On  the  previous  day  a  com 
mission  to  open,  conduct,  and  dissolve 
the  parliament  in  the  king's 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  i. 


with  the  consent  of  tlie  council,  was 
offered  by  a  meeting  of  peers  to  the 
duke  of  Gloucester.  He  objected  to 
the  words,  with  the  consent  of  the 
council,  that  they  were  prejudicial  to 
his  right,  that  they  made  him  the 
servant  of  the  council ;  and  that  they 
had  never  been  introduced  into  simi- 
lar commissions  under  his  late  bro- 
ther. It  was  replied,  that  the  present 
king  was  an  infant,  and  therefore 
without  these  words,  or  others  equi- 
valent, no  man  could  act  legally  and 
safely.  Each  lord  in  his  turn  gave 
this  opinion,  and  the  duke  was  fain 
to  submit.1  The  parliament  was 
opened  by  him  in  the  usual  form. 
The  first  care  of  that  assembly  was  to 
ratify  all  the  acts  of  the  authority  by 
which  it  had  been  convened,  as  suf- 
ficiently justified  by  the  necessity  of 
the  case  ;2  its  second,  to  supply  the 
defect  in  the  exercise  of  the  royal 
authority  arising  from  the  infancy  of 
the  king.  The  two  last  centuries 
furnished  three  instances  of  minori- 
ties ;  at  the  accession  of  Henry  III., 
Edward  III.,  and  Richard  II.  But 
on  none  of  these  occasions  had  the 
powers  of  the  executive  government 
been  intrusted  to  a  guardian  or  regent, 
if  we  except  the  two  first  years  of 
Henry  III.,  when  the  appointment 
of  such  an  officer  was  deemed  requi- 
site to  oppose  the  pretensions  of  a 
foreign  competitor  at  the  head  of  a 
powerful  army,  and  in  possession  of 
the  capital.  The  duke  of  Gloucester 
however,  notwithstanding  the  deci- 
sion of  the  preceding  day,  preferred  a 
claim  to  the  regency  on  two  ground 


ecause  in  the  absence  of  the  duke  of 
Bedford  he  was  the  nearest  of  kin  to 
lis  nephew,  and  because  the  late  king, 
when  he  lay  on  his  death-bed,  had 
ppointed  him  to  that  charge.    The 
ords  (for  such  matters  did  not  apper- 
ain  to  the  cognizance  of  the  com- 
mons) having  searched  the  Rolls,  and 
onsulted  the  judges,  replied;   that 
lis  demand  was  not  founded  either 
>n  law  or  precedent,  but  was  contrary 
o  the  constitution  of  the  realm  and 
he  rights  of  the  three  estates :  and 
hat  the  appointment  of  the  late  king 
was  of  no  force,  because  he  could  not 
alter  the  law  of  the  land  without  the 
,hree  estates,  nor  delegate  the  autho- 
rity, which  expired  with  his  life,  to  be 
exercised  by  another  after  his  death. 
To  satisfy  him,  however,  as  far  as  was 
n  their  power,  they  would  appoint 
lim  president  of  the  council,  in  the 
absence  of  his  brother  the  duke  of 
Bedford,  not  with  the  title  of  regent, 
ieutenant,  governor,  or  tutor,  words 
which  might  be  construed  to  import 
a  delegation  of  the  sovereign  autho- 
rity, but  with  that  of  "  protector  of 
ihe  realm  and  church  of  England;" 
an  appellation  which  could  serve  only 
to  remind  him  of  his  duty.3    Acting 
on  these  principles,  they  named  the 
chancellor,  treasurer,  and  keeper  of 
the  privy  seal,  and  sixteen  members 
of  the  council  with  the  duke  of  Bed- 
ford, and  in  his  absence,  the  duke 
of  Gloucester,  for  president ;  and  by  a 
deputation  notified  these  nominations 
to  the  commons,  who  gave  their  as- 
sent.'*   Regulations  were  then  en  acted 
for  the  direction  of  the  council,  the 


i  Acts  of  Coun.  iii.  6.  Eyra.  x.  257.  D 
assensu  concilii  nostri.  These  words  ar. 
so  placed  that  they  maf  refer  to  the  ap 
pointment  of  the  duke  by  the  king,  or  tc 
the  exercise  of  office  by  the  duke.  Th 
first  is  the  more  natural  construction  ;  bu 
to  this  debate  both  parties  seem  to  hav 
tiopted  the  second. 

,     3  Kot.  Pan.  iv.  170.          8  Ibid.  iv.  326. 

«  Ibid.  iv.  174,  175,  320.  Their  salarie 
were  as  follows  :— 


To  the  protector,  per  annum... £5,333    6    8 

dukes  and  archbishops  200    0    0 

bishops  and  earls :.... 

barons  and  bannerets 100    < 

esquires 30    0    0 

The  bishop  of  Winchester,  when  he  waa 
chancellor,  received  the  same  as  an  arch- 
bishop, and  the  lord  Stafford,  as  treasurer, 
the  same  as  an  earl.— Rot.  Part,  y.  404. 
Rym.  x.  268,  359,  360.  This  difference  in 
the  amount  seems  to  have  been  regulated 
by  the  establishment  which  each  was  obliged 
to  maintain  in  proportion  to  l.is  rauk. 


A.D!  1-122.1 


EEGENCY  OP  FEANCE. 


duties  on  wool  with  the  tonnage  and 
poundage  were  continued  for  two 
years,  and  the  parliament  was  dis- 
solved.1 England  presented  no  cause 
of  uneasiness,  but  every  eye  was  most 
anxiously  turned  towards  France. 

The  regency  of  that  kingdom  had 
according  to  Henry's  last  injunctions, 
been  offered  to  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  on  his  refusal  was  given 
to  the  duke  of  Bedford  by  Charles 
with  the  advice  of  his  council.  But 
Charles  survived  this  transaction  only 
a  few  days ;  and  his  death  gave  to  the 
English  interest  a  shock  from  which 
it  never  recovered.  Many  of  the 
French  nobility  had  adhered  to  Henry 
out  of  deference  to  the  will  of  their 
sovereign ;  but  when  this  check  was 
removed,  their  affection,  and  with  it 
their  obedience,  reverted  to  the  dau- 
phin, the  real  representative  of  their 
native  monarchs.  That  prince  was 
not  slow  to  profit  by  the  event.  On 
the  first  day  after  he  had  received  the 
news  of  his  father's  death  he  wore 
mourning ;  on  the  second  he  assumed 
the  insignia  of  royalty  with  the  title 
of  Charles  VII.,  king  of  France.  As 
Eheims  was  in  the  possession  of  his 
enemies,  he  was  anointed  and  crowned 
at  Chartres.  The  ceremony  operated 
as  a  charm,  and  drew  multitudes  to 
his  standard.2 

On  the  other  side,  the  regent,  a 
prince  not  inferior  to  his  late  brother 
in  abilities,  superior  in  the  more  ami- 
able qualities  of  the  heart,  did  not 
neglect  the  interests  of  his  nephew. 
He  obtained  from  the  duke  of  Bur- 


gundy the  warmest  assurances  of  sup- 
port, and  prevailed  on  the  duke  of 
Bretagne  to  signify  his  approbation 
of  the  treaty  of  Troyes.  The  three 
princes  met  at  Arras.  They  swore  to 
love  each  other  as  brothers,  to  aid 
each  other  against  the  attacks  of  his 
enemies,  to  protect  the  poor  and  de- 
fenceless against  all  oppression,  and 
to  unite  their  efforts  to  remove  the 
scourge  of  war  from  the  soil  of  France. 
To  cement  this  friendship,  the  dukes 
of  Bedford  and  Bretagne  married 
each  a  sister  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy, 
and  then  separated  to  raise  forces  in 
support  of  the  common  cause.3 

The  Loire  formed  the  line  of  de- 
marcation between  the  opposite  par- 
ties. To  the  south  of  that  river 
every  province,  with  the  exception  of 
Gascony,  had  espoused  the  cause  of 
Charles;  to  the  north  Anjou  and 
Maine  professed  to  be  neutral;  and 
the  garrisons  of  a  few  insulated  for- 
tresses adhered  to  their  native  prince : 
but  the  rest  of  the  population,  with 
the  inhabitants  of  the  capital,  acknow- 
ledged the  authority  of  the  regent. 
It  was  not  long  before  the  flames  of 
war  were  rekindled,  the  country  was 
pillaged  by  both  parties ;  towns  were 
taken  and  retaken;  and  the  fortune 
of  the  belligerents  was  nearly  balanced 
by  alternations  of  defeat  and  success. 
The  most  brilliant  event  in  the  cam- 
paign was  the  battle  of  Crevant  on 
the  Yonne.  An  army  of  French  with 
the  Scottish  auxiliaries  had  formed 
the  siege  of  that  town,  and  to  relieve 
t  four  thousand  men-at-arms,  under 


1  Ibid  iv.  175.  After  the  dissolution  of 
the  parliament  the  judges,  by  order  of  the 
council,  separated  those  acts  which  regarded 
the  constitution  and  conduct  of  the  council, 
and  the  administration  of  the  royal  au- 
thority, from  the  others  which  had  for  their 
object  the  usual  matters  of  national  legisla- 
tion. Both  were  to  be  enrolled  in  chancery 
according  to  custom ;  but  of  the  first  copies 
were  to  be  made,  and  lodged  with  the  clerk 
of  the  council  only  ;  the  second  were  to  be 
put  in  proper  form  for  proclamation,  that 


hey  might  be  published  like  other  statutes. 

—Acts  of  Coun.  iii.  22.  The  fact  id,  the 
ords  considered  the  first  as  matters  with 

which  the  public  had  no  concern.  They 
tfould  not  allow  the  commons  to  interfere 
n  these  arrangements  in  parliament ;  nor 

did  they  think  it  proper  to  publish  them  for 
he  information  of  the  people.  See  the 
tatutes  that  were  published  in  Stat.  of 

Realm,  ii.  213.  2  Monst.  it.  1. 

3  Rym.  i.  280. 

B2 


HEISKY  VI. 


[CHABi  L 


She  earl  of  Salisbury,  were  ordered  to 
join  the  Burgundians  at  Auxerre. 
The  regulations  for  the  combined 
army,  before  it  left  that  city,  are  an 
interesting  monument  of  the  mili- 
tary discipline  of  the  age.  It  was 
ordered  that  the  soldiers  should  love 
and  treat  each  other  as  brothers ; 
that  the  vanguard  should  consist  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty  men-at- 
arms,  with  the  same  number  of 
archers  taken  in  equal  portions  from 
each  nation ;  that  when  orders  were 
given  to  dismount  in  the  presence  of 
the  enemy,  disobedience  should  be 
punished  with  instant  death ;  that  all 
the  horses  should  be  conducted  half  a 
league  into  the  rear,  and  such  as  were 
found  within  that  space  should  be 
forfeited;  that  if  any  man  should  leave 
his  station  in  the  line,  he  should  suffer 
death ;  that  no  prisoners  should  be 
made  till  the  victory  was  certain, 
under  the  penalty  of  the  death  of  the 
prisoner,  and  also  of  the  captor,  if  he 
offered  resistance ;  that  every  archer 
should  be  furnished  with  a  long  pole 
sharpened  at  both  extremities ;  and 
that  each  man  should  carry  with  him 
provisions  for  two  days.1  The  enemy 
occupied  an  eminence;  but  were 
drawn  from  their  advantageous  posi- 
tion by  the  manoeuvres  of  the  allies, 
who  dismounting  from  their  horses, 
and  marching  on  foot  in  their  armour, 
attempted  to  make  themselves  mas- 
ters of  the  bridge.  For  three  hours 
the  two  armies  stood  facing  each  other 
divided  only  by  the  river ;  at  length 
the  English  forced  their  way  to  the 
opposite  bank,  and  were  followed  by 
the  Burgundians.  The  Scots,  who 
bore  the  brunt  of  the  battle,  were 
almost  annihilated  ;  and  the  French 
suffered  severely  from  the  garrison, 


'  Monstrel.  ii.  7. 

2  The  French  commander  was  the  count 
of  Yentadour,  the  Scottish  the  earl  of  Bu- 
ehan,  or  Stuart  of  Darnley.  Both  were 
afterwards  ransomed.  —  Monstrel.  ii.  8. 
Ford.  I7i.25.  Hall,  f.  85. 


which  assaulted  them  in  the  rear. 
The  victors  entered  the  place  in 
triumph,  carrying  with  them  the 
French  and  Scottish  commanders, 
each  of  whom,  after  losing  an  eye 
in  the  contest,  had  been  made  pr»" 
soner.a 

This  defeat  threw  a  gloom  over  th« 
prospects  of  Charles;  but  it  wal 
quickly  removed  by  the  arrival  o* 
powerful  reinforcements  from  Italy 
and  Scotland.  The  duke  of  Milan 
sent  to  his  assistance  a  numerous 
body  of  Lombards ;  and  the  earl  of 
Douglas  landed  in  the  port  of  Rochelle 
with  five  thousand  men.  The  king, 
in  testimony  of  his  confidence  and 
gratitude,  selected  his  body-guard 
from  the  Scottish  auxiliaries ;  and,  as 
he  had  already  granted  to  Stuart  of 
Darnley  the  French  lordships  of  Au- 
bigny  and  Concressault,  he  gave  to 
Douglas  the  still  more  valuable  duke- 
dom of  Touraine,  which  had  belonged 
to  himself  before  his  accession.  The 
duke  of  Albany,  the  regent  of  Scot- 
land, and  the  Scottish  nobility,  swore 
in  the  presence  of  the  French  ambas- 
sador to  maintain  the  ancient  alliance 
between  the  two  countries,  and  pro- 
mised, what  it  was  not  in  their  power 
to  enforce,  that  their  king,  in  the 
event  of  his  liberation,  should  ratify 
their  engagements.3 

The  necessity  of  interrupting  the 
harmony  between  France  and  Scot- 
land had  now  become  evident;  and 
with  this  view  the  English  council 
proposed  to  King  James  to  treat  with 
him  respecting  his  release  from  cap- 
tivity. The  offer  was  joyfully  ac- 
cepted; the  Scottish  envoys  were 
permitted  to  join  their  sovereign; 
and  after  much  negotiation  it  was 
mutually  agreed,  that  the  king  should 


3  Du  Tillet,  135,  136.  Douglas  was  macro 
the  king's  lieutenant  and  commander  of  the 
French  armies,  Apr.  19,  1424.  In  the  Ar- 
chives de  France,  Cartons  k.  90—998,  are 
numbers  of  letters  of  naturalization  granted 
to  Scottish  archers  of  the  royal  guard  from 
this  time  down  to  1471. 


A.D.  1423.]  MAREIAGE  OF  THE  KING  OF  SCOTLAND. 


be  set  at  liberty,  and  that  in  return 
he  should  forbid  his  subjects  to  enter 
into  the  service  of  France;1  should 
pay  by  instalments,  in  six  years,  the 
sum  of  forty  thousand  pounds,  as  a 
compensation  for  his  expenses  during 
the  time  of  his  detention ; 2  and  should 
give  hostages  as  a  security  till  the 
whole  of  the  money  were  paid.  To 
attach  the  Scottish  prince  more  firmly 
to  the  interests  of  England,  it  was 
wished  to  marry  him  to  an  English 
princess ;  and  the  ambassadors  were 
instructed  to  entertain  the  subject,  if 
it  were  opened  by  the  Scots,  but  not 
to  be  the  first  to  suggest  it,  "  because, 
by  the  custom  of  England,  it  did  not 
become  the  lady  to  be  the  suitor." 
It  was  not,  however,  necessary  to 
urge  the  willing  mind  of  James  by 
political  motives.  His  affections  were 
already  engaged  by  a  beautiful  and 
accomplished  woman,  Jane,  descended 
by  her  father,  the  earl  of  Somerset, 
from  Edward  III.,  and  by  her  mother, 
Margaret  Holand,  from  Edward  I. 
He  married  her  before  his  departure ; 
and  the  protector,  to  express  his 
satisfaction,  remitted,  with  the  consent 
of  the  council,  a  sixth  part  of  the  sum 
stipulated  to  be  paid  by  the  treaty.3 
The  event  showed  that  an  English 
education  of  nineteen  years  had  not 
rendered  James  less  fit  to  wear  the 
crown  of  Scotland.  He  proved,  as  a 
monarch,  a  blessing  to  his  country ; 
but  though  he  laboured  to  fulfil  the 


conditions  on  which  he  had  been 
iberated,  his  revenue  had  been  so 
mpaired  by  the  regents,  and  his 
people  appeared  so  unwilling  to 
submit  to  taxation,  that  he  was  never 
able  to  discharge  one-third  part  of 
the  debt.4 

In  France  the  campaign  of  the 
present  year  was  chequered  with  the 
same  variety  of  events  which  marked 
}hat  of  the  last.  Arthur,  brother  to 
the  duke  of  Bretagne,  and  several 
Burgundian  lords,  passed  over  to  the 
service  of  Charles ;  his  partisans  sur- 
prised Compeigne  and  Crotoi ;  and 
the  garrison  of  Ivri,  consisting  of 
Bretons,  received  and  unfurled  his 
standard.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
duke  of  Bedford  procured  a  reinforce- 
ment from  England,  recovered  Com- 
peigne and  Crotoi,  and  with  two 
thousand  nien-at-arms,  and  seven 
thousand  archers,  laid  siege  to  Ivri. 
A  French  army  of  eighteen  thousand 
men,  under  the  duke  of  Alencon, 
approached  to  relieve  that  fortress; 
but  despairing  of  success,  abandoned 
it  to  its  fate,  and  surprised  Verneuil. 
The  duke,  leaving  a  garrison  to  secure 
his  conquest,  marched  to  seek  the 
enemy,  who  boldly  came  forward  to 
meet  him.  The  men-at-arms  were 
arrayed  in  one  compact  mass;  in 
front  and  on  each  flank  was  stationed 
a  body  of  archers  protected  as  usual 
by  long  stakes  fixed  in  the  ground; 
and  in  the  rear  were  collected  the 


1  .vs  James  could  not  enforce  the  return 
oftheScot3  already  in  France,  they  were 
excepted  from  the  benefit  of  the  treaty. — 
Ilyra.  x.  331. 

*  The  maintenance  of  .Tames  had  been 
fixed  by  Henry  A',  at  70W.  per  annum  , 
which  in  nineteen  yenrs  would  amount  to 
13,OOW.  There  can' be  no  doubt  that  of  late 
his  expenses  had  considerably  increased. — 
See  llym.  x  293,  29«.  But  it  is  probabk 
that  so  large  a  sum  was  demanded  unde 
that  pretence,  because  it  could  not  decently 
be  claimed  as  a  ransom.  The  English  com- 
missioners had  private  instructions  to  ac 
cept  of  36,000,  if  the  Scots  objected  to 
40,000.— Id.  x.  295.  3  Rym.  x.  323. 

4  If  we  may  believe  Ilolinshed  (p.  587) 
and  Hall  (f.  86),  James,  before  hia  departure 


did  homage  to  the  young  Henry  at  Windsor, 
and  swore  fealty  in  these  words  :  "  I,  Jamea 
Stuart,  king  of  Scotland,  shall  be  true  and 
faithful  unto  you,  lord  Henry,  by  the  grace 
of  God  king  ot  England  and  France,  the 
noble  and  superior  lord  of  the  kingdom 
of  Scotland,  which  I  hold  and  claim  of 
you.  And  I  shall  bear  you  faith  and  fide- 
lit  v,"  &c.  This  we  are  told  was  done  before 
three  dukes,  two  archbishops,  twelve  earlr, 
ten  bishops,  twenty  barons,  and  200  knights, 
and  yet  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  ia  a 
mistake.  For  in  all  the  public  records  James 
is  treated,  not  as  a  vassal,  but  an  inde- 
pendent sovereign  ;  and  Henry  in  a  private 
letter  styles  him  : — Eizt  heigh  and  myghty 
prince  by  the  grace  of  God  kyng  of  Scotes.— 
llym.  x.  635. 


HENEY  VI. 


TCHAP.  L 


baggage,  f ervants,  and  horses  of  the 
army,  under  the  protection  of  two 
thousand  archers,  who,  to  oppose  the 
irruption  of  the  enemy,  had  tied  the 
horses  to  each  other,  both  by  their 
bridles  and  tails,  and  intermixed  them 
with  the  carriages  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  form  an  almost  impenetrable 
rampart.  The  shock  of  the  two  armies 
is  described  as  dreadful.  They  fought 
hand  to  hand,  and  with  such  resolu- 
tion, that  for  near  an  hour  neither 
party  seemed  to  gain  any  advantage. 
In  the  hottest  of  the  battle  a  body  of 
French  and  Italian  cavalry,  instructed 
to  annoy  the  rear  of  the  English, 
endeavoured  to  charge  through  the 
horses  and  baggage;  but,  unable  to 
force  their  way,  or  to  disentangle 
themselves,  they  stood  exposed  to  the 
arrows  of  the  archers,  who,  after  they 
had  slain  or  repelled  the  assailants, 
turned  towards  the  front,  and  with  a 
loud  shout  rushed  on  the  enemy. 
This  manoeuvre  decided  the  action. 
The  courage  of  the  French  sank; 
their  front  was  pierced  in  different 
points ;  and  the  plain  was  soon  covered 
with  fugitives  and  pursuers.  Accord- 
ing to  the  account  of  the  enemy,  they 
lost  above  three  thousand  men,  the 
English  sixteen  hundred.  The  Scots 
were  so  reduced  that  they  never 
afterwards  formed  a  distinct  corps  in 
the  French  army.  The  new  duke  of 
Touraine,  and  the  earl  of  Buchan, 
were  left  on  the  field;  the  duke  of 
Alenc.on,  and  two  hundred  gentlemen, 
were  made  prisoners.  The  regent 
immediately  called  his  officers  around 
him,  and  returned  thanks  to  God  on 
the  field  of  battle.1 

Hitherto  the  duke  of  Bedford  had 
supported  the  honour  of  the  English 
army,  and  displayed  talents  equal  to 
the  difficult  situation  in  which  he  was 
placed.  But  in  every  measure  he  had 
the  misfortune  to  be  thwarted  by  the 


private  ambition  of  his  brother  the 
duke  of  Gloucester.  Jacqueline  of 
3avaria,  heiress  of  Hainault,  Holland, 
Zeeland,  and  Friesland,  had  for  her 
first  husband  John,  dauphin  of  France, 
After  his  death,  Henry  V.  offered  his 
mediation  to  compose  the  difference 
Between  the  widow  and  her  uncle, 
md  improved  the  opportunity  to 
olicit  her  hand  for  his  brother  of 
Bedford.  But  Jacqueline,  by  per- 
suasion of  her  mother, preferred  John, 
duke  of  Brabant,  a  boy  in  his  sixteenth 
year.  Their  union  was  unhappy. 
EEe  was  passionate  and  capricious; 
he  proud  and  revengeful.  The  duke 
dismissed  the  ladies  and  servants 
whom  his  wife  had  brought  with  her 
rom  Holland ;  his  favourites  in  re- 
turn were  soon  afterwards  massacred 
n  an  insurrection  of  the  people.  At 
length  she  separated  from  him,  re- 
paired to  her  mother  at  Valenciennes, 
eloped  from  Valenciennes  and  sought 
an  asylum  in  England,  where  she  was 
received  with  welcome,  and  obtained 
from,  the  king  a  pension  of  one  hun- 
dred pounds  a  month.2  The  duke  of 
Gloucester  became  enamoured  with 
her  charms,  perhaps  still  more  with 
her  inheritance.  But  Henry,  who 
saw  that  a  marriage  between  them 
would  be  followed  by  a  rupture  with 
the  duke  of  Burgundy,  cousin-german 
and  apparent  heir  to  Jacqueline's 
husband,  restrained  the  imprudence 
of  his  brother,  and  on  his  death-bed 
inculcated  with  extraordinary  earnest- 
ness the  necessity  of  making  every 
sacrifice  to  preserve  the  friendship  of 
his  ally.  Gloucester  was  too  head- 
strong to  regard  the  advice  of  the 
king,  or  to  yield  to  the  remonstrances 
of  the  council.  Maintaining  that  the 
marriage  of  Jacqueline  with  the  duke 
of  Brabant  was  void,  on  account  of 
consanguinity,  though  a  dispensation 
had  been  obtained  from  the  council  of 


Monstrel.  ii.  15. 


2  Monstrel.  i.  267,  299,  303.      Pell  Re. 
cords,  368. 


A.D.  1424.] 


JACQUELINE'S  MARRIAGE. 


Constance,  he  married  her  himself, 
and  immediately  laid  claim  to    her 
dominions.    Had  her  husband  been 
left  to  his  own  decision,  he  might  pro- 
bably have  yielded  ;  but  the  duke  of 
Burgundy  espoused  his    cause,  and 
declared  that  he  would  oppose  force 
to  force  in  his  behalf.    It  was  in  vain 
that   the   regent    employed   all   his 
influence  to  prevail  on  his  brother  to 
withdraw   a   demand,  which  would 
alienate  the  Burgundian   from  the 
interests  of  England,  and  might  ulti- 
mately throw  him  into  the  arms  of 
Charles.  As  a  last  resource,  in  a  great 
council  at  Paris,  it  was  determined 
that  the  legitimacy  of  the  two  mar- 
riages should  be  referred  to  the  pope, 
and  that  all  parties  should  await  his 
decision.     The    duke    of    Brabant 
acquiesced  ;   the  duke  of  Gloucester 
refused.    He  was    already   at  Calais 
with  Jacqueline  and  an  army  of  five 
thousand  men,  and,  proceeding  into 
Hainault,  immediately  obtained  pos- 
session of  the  county  in  right  of  his 
pretended  wife.    The  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy on  this  intelligence  sent  forces 
to  the  aid  of  his  cousin;  insulting 
messages   passed   between   him   anc 
Gloucester;   a   challenge  was   given 
and  accepted ;  *  and  the  two  comba- 
tants agreed  to  decide  their  quarrel  on 
the  feast  of  St.  George  in  the  presence 
of  the  duke  of  Bedford,  the  regent 
In  the  interval  the  Burgundian  re 
called  his  forces,  and  Gloucester  pre 
pared  to  return  to  England.    Not 
withstanding  the  objections  of  Jac 
queline,  it  was  resolved,  at  the  reques 
of  the  inhabitants,  that  she  shoul 
remain  at  Mons.    She  parted  fron 
the  duke  with  tears,  predicting  th 
evils  which  would  result  from  thei 
separation.    The  Brabanters  renewe 


1  On  this  occasiou  the  duke  of  Burgund 
paid  a  high  compliment  to  the  duke  of  Bei 
ford.  Si  mieuz  vous  plait,  he  says  to  h 
antagonist,  je  suis  content,  que  nous  pr 
nonsajugemon  tres  cher  et  aim-S  cousi 
et  aussi  votre  beau  frere  le  Kegent  due  < 


ie  war ;  the  towns  of  Hainault  re- 
urned  to  the  obedience  of  the  duke ; 
nd  Jacqueline  was  delivered  to  the 
urgundians  to  be  detained  a  captive 
11  the  see  of  Borne  should  pronounce 
n  the  validity  of  her  marriage.    The 
ntended     duel     between    the    two 
rinces   was   never    fought.      In   a 
stter  to  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  the 
ontiff  declared  him  excommunicated, 
!  he  persisted  in  putting  his  design 
n  execution ;  and  by  a  circular  brief 
irected  to  all  the  Christian  princes 
n  Europe,   exhorted  them   not   to 
ermit  the  combat  within  their  re- 
pective    dominions.     The    English 
arliament,    seconding     his    views, 
ecommended     that     the     dowager 
ueens  of  France  and  England,  with 
he  regent,  should  take  the  quarrel 
nto  their  hands;  and  in  a  council 
leld  at  Paris,  itfwas  decided  that  the 
hallenge    had   been    given  without 
ufficient  cause.2    In  the  mean  time 
Facqueline    was    conducted  by  the 
jrince  of  Orange  to  Ghent,  where 
ihe  bore  her  confinement  with  impa- 
ience,  and  exerted  all  her  ingenuity  to 
contrive  her  escape.    At  length  she 
dressed  herself  and  her  female  attend- 
ant in  male  attire,  mounted  a  horse, 
rode  unobserved  in  the  dusk  of  the 
evening  out  of  one  of  the  gates,  and 
continued  her  flight  till  she  reached 
in  safety   the    borders    of    Holland, 
where  she  was  joyfully  received  by  her 
subjects.    The  Burgundians  pursued 
her  thither ;  and  Holland  became  for 
two  years  the  theatre  of  war.    The 
duke  of  Gloucester  sent  her  five  hun- 
dred men-at-arms,  and  was  severely 
reprimanded    by    the    council;    he 
renewed  the  attempt;  but  was  pre- 
vented by  his  brother,  the  regent.3 
In  1423  the  pope  is  said  to  have  pro- 


Bethfort—  car  il  est  tel  prince  que  je  scay, 
qu'a  vous  et  a  moy,  et  a  tous  autres  il  vou- 
droi*  cstre  droiturier  juge.—  Monst.  ii.  20. 

2  Up.  Mart.   V.   apud  Kaynald.    vi.    75. 

ot.  Tarl.  iv.  277. 


Rot. 


.          .      . 
Monstrel.  ii.  18—29. 


HENRY  VI. 


nouiiced  in  favour  of  the  first  mar- 
riage ; '  but  the  duke  of  Brabant  died 
soon  afterwards,  and  Jacqueline 
assumed  the  title  of  duchess  of  Glou- 
cester. The  slender  aid  which  she 
received  from  England  served  to 
defer  her  submission  till  1428,  when 
she  was  compelled  to  appoint  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  her  heir,  to  allow 
him  to  garrison  her  fortresses,  and  to 
give  her  word  that  she  would  never 
marry  without  his  consent.2  In  the 
terms  of  this  treaty  she  virtually 
acknowledged  that  she  was  not  the 
wife  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester ;  and 
yet,  only  a  few  weeks  before  it  was 
concluded,  her  interests  had  been 
espoused  in  England  by  a  party  of 
females  against  the  neglect  of  her 
supposed  husband.  A  lady  of  the 
name  of  Stokes,  attended  by  the  wives 
of  the  principal  citizens  of  London, 
went  to  the  house  of  lords,  and  pre- 
sented a  petition  against  the  duke, 
accusing  him  of  having  neglected  his 
lawful  wife,  the  duchess  Jacqueline, 
and  of  living  in  open  adultery  with 
Eleanor  Cobham,3  daughter  of  Regi- 
nald Lord  Cobham  of  Sterborough. 
The  beauty  of  Eleanor  was  as  distin- 
guished as  her  morals  were  dissolute. 
After  contributing  to  the  pleasures 
of  different  noblemen,  she  became 
acquainted  with  the  duke,  whose 
attachment  to  her  was  so  great,  that 
even  after  his  union  with  Jacqueline, 
he  kept  her  always  near  his  person, 
and  took  her  with  him  in  his  expe- 
dition to  Hainault.4  What  answer 
was  returned  to  the  petition  of  these 
female  champions  in  the  cause  of 
conjugal  fidelity,  is  not  known ;  but 
the  duke  soon  afterwards,  to  the 


1  This  is  said  by  different  writers.    If  it 
were  true,  I  know  not  how  the    English 
government   could,    consistently  with    the 
agreement  at  Paris,  continue  to  acknow- 
ledge her  for  duchess  of  Gloucester.    Yet 
she  is  so  called  in  two  different  instruments 
in  Kymer,  dated  in  1427  and  1428  (Rym.  x. 
375, 398),  and  in  the  address  of  the  commons 
of  1427.     (Rot.  Parl.  iv.  318.) 

2  Monstrel.  ii.  37.    Meyer,  lib.  xv.  p.  310. 


surprise  of  Europe,  publicly  acknow- 
ledged Cobham  for  his  wife;  and 
Jacqueline,  in  breach  of  her  promise 
to  her  adversary,  married  a  gentleman 
called  Frank  of  Bursellen.  He  was 
immediately  seized  by  the  Burgun- 
dians,  and  his  wife,  to  purchase  his 
liberty,  ceded  the  greater  part  of  her 
dominions,  retaining  only  an  annual 
rent  for  her  own  support.  She  died 
without  issue  in  I486.5 

Had  it  not  been  for  this  unfor- 
tunate attempt  of  Gloucester  to  ob- 
tain the  inheritance  of  Jacqueline, 
it  was  pretended  that  the  party  of 
Charles  might  have  been  effectually 
crushed  after  the  battle  of  Ver- 
neuil.  But  to  protect  the  interests 
of  the  duke  of  Brabant,  the  duke 
of  Burgundy  withdrew  his  forces 
from  the  scene  of  action,  and  em- 
ployed them  in  Hainault  and  Hol- 
land ;  and  the  duke  of  Bedford,  re- 
duced to  depend  on  his  own  resources, 
became  unable  to  improve  the  ad- 
vantages which  he  had  gained.  For 
three  years  the  war  in  France  was 
suffered  to  languish ;  and  the  opera- 
tions on  both  sides  were  confined  to 
skirmishes  and  sieges,  unimportant 
in  their  consequences  to  the  two 
parties,  but  most  disastrous  to  the 
unfortunate  inhabitants.  If  the  re- 
gent was  inactive  through  weakness, 
Charles  was  equally  so  through  po- 
verty ;  and  if  the  court  of  the  latter 
became  a  scene  of  intrigue,  dissen- 
sion, and  bloodshed,  the  council  of 
the  king  of  England  was  not  less 
divided  by  the  jealousy  of  its  mem- 
bers, their  quarrels,  and  their  opposite 
interests.6 

Among  these  the  minister  who  bore 


3  Stow,  369. 

4  Laquelle  le  dit  ducparavant  avoittenue 
en  sa  compagnie  certain  temps,  comme  sa 
dame  par  amours;   et  avec   ce  avoit  este 
diffamee  de  aucuns  autres  homines  que  de 
icelui  due.— Monstrel.  ii.  32.    Also  ii.  29. 

5  Meyer,  329. 

6  The  pontiff,  as  if  he  had  foreseen  the 
evils  which  followed,  had  on  the  succession 
of  the  young  Henry  written  to  the  council, 


A.D.  1428.]   GLOUCESTER  AND  BEAUFORT  QUARREL. 


the  chief  sway,  both  from  his  situa- 
tion and  relationship  to  the  king,  was 
the  duke  of  Gloucester;  but  he  was 
often,  and  sometimes  successfully,  op- 
posed in  his  views  by  Henry  Beau- 
fort, the  great  bishop  of  Winchester. 
That  prelate  was  second  son  to  John 
of  Ghent  by  Catherine  Swynford,  and 
was  consequently  uncle  to  the  regent 
and  his  brother,  and  great-uncle  to 
the  king.  From  the  bishopric  of 
Lincoln  he  had  been  translated  to 
the  more  valuable  see  of  Winchester, 
had  thrice  borne  the  high  office  of 
chancellor,  had  assisted  at  the  council 
of  Constance,  and  had  made  a  pil- 
grimage to  Jerusalem.  His  frugality 
multiplied  his  riches ;  but  they  were 
rendered  subservient  to  the  interests 
of  his  country ;  and  his  loans  to  the 
late  monarch  amounted  to  twenty- 
eight,  to  the  present  king  to  more 
than  eleven,  thousand  pounds.1  He 
had  again  accepted  the  office  of  chan- 
cellor, and  in  that  situation  had 
strenuously  opposed  Gloucester's  fa- 
vourite plan  of  claiming  the  inhe- 
ritance of  Jacqueline.  During  the 
absence  of  that  prince,  the  council, 
under  the  influence  of  the  prelate, 
and  with  the  view  to  repress  the 
mutinous  disposition  of  the  populace, 
had  garrisoned  the  Tower,  and  com- 
mitted it  to  the  care  of  Richard 
Wydevile,  with  orders  "  to  admit  no 
one  more  powerful  than  himself." 
When  Gloucester  returned,  he  de- 
manded lodgings  in  that  fortress,  and 
attributed  the  refusal  of  Wydevile  to 
the  secret  instructions  of  his  uncle. 


In  his  resentment  he  ordered  the 
mayor  to  close  the  gates  of  the  city 
against  the  bishop,  and  to  furnish, 
him  with  five  hundred  horsemen, 
that  he  might  visit  in  safety  the 
young  king  at  Eltham.  The  next 
morning  the  retainers  of  Beaufort 
attempted  to  burst  open  the  gate  on 
the  bridge,  barricaded  the  road,  placed 
archers  in  the  houses  on  each  side, 
and  declared  that,  as  their  lord  was 
excluded  from  entering  the  city,  so 
they  would  prevent  the  duke  from 
leaving  it.2  It  cost  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  the  duke  of  Coimbra, 
second  son  of  the  king  of  Portugal 
by  Philippa,  the  sister  of  the  late 
monarch,  eight  journeys  in  the  same 
day  from  party  to  party,  to  prevent 
the  effusion  of  blood,  and  to  induce 
them  to  keep  the  peace,  till  the 
return  of  the  duke  of  Bedford.3 
With  reluctance  the  regent  left 
Paris,  landed  in  England,  and  sum- 
moned a  parliament  at  Leicester. 
It  was,  however,  his  hope  that  a 
reconciliation  between  his  brother 
and  uncle  might  be  effected  before 
that  meeting.  With  this  view  the 
archbishop  and  several  lords  waited 
on  Gloucester,  ana  requested  him  on 
the  part  of  the  king  to  attend  the 
council  at  Northampton.  They  were 
instructed  to  represent  to  him  that 
he  could  have  no  reasonable  objec- 
tion to  meet  his  uncle  on  such  an 
occasion ;  that  measures  would  be 
taken  to  prevent  any  affray  between 
their  followers ;  that  the  bishop,  as  the 
accused  party,  had  a  right  to  be  COn- 


recommending  to  them  above  all  things  to 
live  in  harmony  with  each  other,  as  the  best 
means  of  preserving  the  dominions  of  their 
infant  sovereign.  Ad  re*guum  hoc  in  rerum 
statu  salubriter  dirigendum  nulla  res  est 
tantum  necessaria,  quantum  est  vestra  con. 
cordia,  qui  reipublicae  prsesidetis :  vobis 
enim  habentibus  unam  mentera,  una  volun- 
tate  regentibus,  nulla  accidere  calamitas 
potest. — Apud  Kaynald.  vi.  51. 

1  Rot.  Parl.  iv.  Ill,  132,  275,  277. 

•  See  the  charges  of  Gloucaster,  and  the 


answers  of  the  bishop  in  Hall,  f.  94,  97. 

3  The  bishop  wrote  on  the  30th  of  Octo- 
ber to  the  regent,  requesting  his  immediate 
return  :  "  for,"  he  adds,  "  by  my  troth,  and 
ye  tarry  long,  we  shall  put  this  land  in 
jeopardy  with  a  field,  such  a  brother  ye 
have  here ;  God  make  him  a  good  man  ! " 
They  entered  the  city  of  London  together. 
Bedford  appears  to  have  favoured  his  uncle, 
and  to  have  blamed  his  brother.  "When  the 
citizens  made  him  a  present  of  1,000  marks 
in  two  basins  of  silver  gilt,  he  hardly  thanked 
them.— Fabyan,  414,  415. 


10 


HEJNIIY  \rl. 


[CHAP.  i. 


fronted  with  his  accuser,  and  that  the 
king  could  not  be  expected  to  deprive 
him  of  office  before  the  charge  against 
him  had  been  proved.  But  the  duke's 
obstinacy  was  not  to  be  subdued  by 
argument,  and  he  received  a  royal 
order  to  attend  in  his  place  at  the 
approaching  parliament.1  There  the 
commons,  by  their  speaker,  conjured 
the  regent  and  the  lords  to  reconcile 
the  duke  of  Gloucester  with  the 
bishop  of  Winchester.  The  former 
had  preferred  a  bill  of  impeachment 
against  his  uncle,  in  which  to  his  ov\n 
grievances  he  added  two  charges, 
which,  if  we  may  believe  him,  he 
had  received  from  his  brother,  the 
late  king;  the  first,  that  the  prelate 
had  hired  an  assassin  to  take  Henry's 
life  while  he  was  yet  prince  of  Wales; 
the  second,  that  he  had  exhorted  him 
to  usurp  the  crown  during  the  life  of 
his  father.  In  his  answer,  Beaufort 
endeavoured  to  show  that,  if  he  had 
given  personal  offence  to  the  duke, 
yet  his  conduct  was  justified  by  the 
behaviour  of  that  prince  ;  and  to  the 
charges  said  to  have  been  made  by 
Henry  V.,  he  opposed  the  confidence 
and  employments  with  which  that  king 
had  honoured  the  man,  who  was  now 
accused  on  his  pretended  testimony 
of  having  attempted  his  life.  The 
duke  of  Bedford  and  the  other  lords 
took  an  oath  to  judge  with  impar- 
tiality ;  but  in  what  manner  the  trial 
proceeded  we  are  not  informed.  Three 
days  later  the  duke  and  bishop  con- 
sented to  leave  their  quarrel  to  the 
decision  of  the  primate  and  eight 
other  arbitrators,  by  whose  award 
the  following  farce  was  enacted. 
Beaufort  began  by  addressing  the 
king,  to  whom  he  protested  his 
innocence  of  the  charges  which  re- 
spected Henry  Y. ;  and  the  duke  of 


1  Acts  of  Conn.  iii.  181—7.  This  parlia- 
ment was  called  the  parliament  of  bats.  As 
arms  had  been  forbidden,  the  servants  of 
the  members  followed  their  lords  with  bats 
or  clubs  on  their  shoulders  ;  when  these  also 
were  forbidden,  they  concealed  stones  and 


Bedford  replied,  in  the  name  of  the 
infant  sovereign,  that  the  king  had  no 
doubt  of  the  innocence  of  his  great- 
uncle,  and  held  him  to  have  ever  been 
a  true  man  to  the  late  monarch,  both 
before  and  after  his  succession  to  the 
throne.  Then  turning  to  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  the  bishop  expressed  his 
sorrow  that  his  nephew  should  have 
conceived  any  displeasure  against 
him:  "but,  sir,"  he  continued,  "I 
take  God  to  witness,  that  what  re- 
ports soever  have  been  made  unto 
you  of  me  (peradventure  by  such  as 
have  not  had  great  affection  unto  me; 
God  forgive  them  !),  I  never  imagined 
nor  purposed  thing  that  might  be 
hindering  or  prejudice  to  your  person, 
honour,  or  estate ;  and  for  so  much  I 
pray  you  that  you  will  be  unto  me 
good  lord  from  this  time  forth;  for 
by  my  will  1  gave  you  never  other 
occasion,  nor  purpose  not  to  do  here- 
after through  God's  grace."  The  duke 
replied :  "  Fair  uncle,  since  you  so  de- 
clare you  such  a  man  as  you  say,  I 
am  right  glad  that  it  is  so,  and  for 
such  I  take  you."  Each  then  took 
the  other  by  the  hand,  and  the  cere- 
mony was  finished.  Such  a  recon- 
ciliation could  not  be  real ;  and  the 
bishop,  whether  it  were  his  own 
resolve,  or  had  been  previously 
stipulated,  resigned  the  seals  the 
next  day,  and  soon  afterwards  re- 
quested permission  to  travel.  He 
remained  however  in  England  till 
the  beginning  of  the  following  year, 
when  he  accompanied  his  nephew, 
the  duke  of  Bedford,  to  Calais. 
There  he  received  the  welcome  in- 
telligence that  he  nad  been  named 
a  cardinal  by  Pope  Martin,  and  was 
invested  with  ,the  insignia  of  his 
dignity  in  the  presence  of  the  regent 
and  a  numerous  court.2 


plummets  of  lead  in  their  sleeves  and  bo- 
soms ;  so  suspicious  were  they  of  each 
other.— Fab.  ibid. 

2  See  the  proceedings  in  the  Eolls  of  Par- 
liament, iv.  296,  299:  Rym.  x.  353.  358 1 
Fab.  416  ;  Ellis,  2  ser.  1,  102. 


A.D.  142?.] 


SUBMISSION  OP  THE  DUKES. 


11 


There  is  reason  to  believe  that  this 
quarrel  between  the  uncle  and  nephew 
originated  in  the  jealousy  which  Beau- 
fort entertained  of  the  ambition  of 
the  duke,  who  on  many  occasions  had 
acted  as  if  he  were  independent  of  the 
council,  and  to  their  remonstrances 
had  replied,  that  he  would  be  account- 
able to  no  man  but  the  king,  when 
he  should  come  of  age.  Even  of  late 
he  had  said,  "  Let  my  brother  govern 
as  him  lusteth,  whiles  he  is  in  this 
land ;  after  his  going  over  into 
Trance,  I  woll  govern  as  me  seemeth 
good/'  On  this  account  the  other 
members  sent  for  the  duke  of  Bedford 
to  the  star-chamber,  a  few  days  before 
his  departure,  and  the  next  morning 
waited  in  a  body  on  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  who  was  confined  by 
sickness  to  his  "  inne."  To  both  the 
chancellor  made  a  similar  address, 
stating  that  the  young  prince  was 
the  rightful  king  of  England,  and 
entitled  to  the  obedience  of  all  his 
subjects,  of  whatever  rank  they  might 
be ;  that  young  as  he  was,  he  yet 
possessed  by  law  all  the  authority 
which  would  belong  to  him  at  a  more 
mature  age;  that,  as  during  his  infancy 
he  could  not  exercise  such  authority, 
it  was  vested  in  the  lords  spiritual  and 
temporal  assembled  in  parliament,  or 
in  the  great  council,  and,  at  other 
times,  iri  the  lords  appointed  to  form 
the  "continual  council ;"  and  that 
this  council,  representing  the  king's 
person,  had  a  right  to  exercise  the 
powers  of  government,  "withouten 
that  any  one  person  may  or  ought  to 
ascribe  to  himself  the  said  rule  and 
government."  They  concluded  by 
begging  the  two  dukes  to  inform 
them,  whether  they  held  the  same 
sentiments.  Both  replied  (and  sub- 
scribed their  replies  with  their  own 
signatures)  that  they  cheerfully  as- 
sented to  the  principles  which  had 


*  Rot.  Parl.  v.  409—411.    Acts  of  Coun 
lii.  231-242. 


been  laid  down,  and  that  "  in  all 
things  that  belonged  to  the  rule  of 
the  land  and  the  observances  of  the 
king's  laws,  and  to  his  estate,  they 
would  be  advised,  demeaned,  and 
ruled  by  the  lords  of  the  council,  and 
obey  unto  the  king,  and  to  them  as 
for  the  king,  as  lowly  as  the  least  and 
poorest  of  his  subjects."  It  should, 
however,  be  observed  that  the  answer 
of  the  duke  of  Bedford  was  much 
more  full  and  submissive  than  that 
of  his  brother;  and  that  taking  up 
the  book  of  the  Gospels,  he  solemnly 
swore  to  observe  through  life  the 
promise  which  he  then  made.  Glou- 
cester did  not  swear.1 

It  was  the  sense  of  his  own  weak- 
ness, which  had  induced  the  duke  of 
Bretagne  to  join  the  confederacy  in 
1423.  But  no  sooner  did  he  observe 
the  seeds  of  dissension  sown  between 
the  dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Glouces- 
ter, than  he  lent  a  more  willing  ear  to 
the  counsels  of  his  brother  Arthur, 
who  had  recently  been  appointed  by 
the  dauphin  constable  of  Trance. 
Under  different  pretences,  his  troops 
were  gradually  withdrawn  from  the 
armies  of  the  allies;  men  for  the 
service  of  Charles,  were  enrolled 
within  his  territories ;  and  he  had 
made,  or  was  said  to  have  made,  a 
secret  promise  of  open  co-operation, 
as  soon  as  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
should  break  the  alliance  with  Eng- 
land. The  regent  resolved  to  anti- 
cipate his  intended  treachery,  and 
prevailed  on  the  English  council  to 
declare  war  against  him  in  the  begin- 
ning of  1426.2  Immediately  troops 
from  the  garrisons  of  Normandy  were 
poured  into  Bretagne ;  the  natives 
were  defeated  in  several  engage- 
ments ;  and  the  flames  of  war  were 
spread  to  the  very  walls  of  Eennes. 
The  duke  in  despair  solicited  and 
obtained  an  armistice;  his  apologies 


Eym.  x.  3-49.    Acts  of  Conn.  iii.  181, 


12 


HENftY  VI. 


[CHAP,  i, 


and  offers  were  rejected  ;  he  tried 
again  the  fortune  of  war,  was  again 
unsuccessful ;  and  at  last  submitted 
to  the  terms  dictated  by  the  regent. 
By  an  instrument  under  his  seal,  and 
those  of  his  sons,  barons,  prelates,  and 
the  commonalties  of  his  duchy,  he 
acknowledged  Henry  for  his  rightful 
sovereign,  and  promised  upon  oath  to 
observe  the  treaty  of  Troyes,  to  obey 
the  commands  of  the  regent,  and  to 
do  homage  for  his  territories  to  the 
king  of  England,  and  to  no  other 
person.1 

Eive  years  had  now  elapsed  since 
the  death  of  the  late  monarch  ;  and, 
if  no  addition  had  been  made  to  his 
conquests,  at  least  no  considerable 
loss  had  been  experienced.  But  at 
length  in  an  evil  hour  it  was  deter- 
mined to  cross  the  Loire,  and  to 
attack  Charles  in  the  provinces  which 
had  always  adhered  to  his  cause. 
With  this  view  several  councils  were 
held  at  Paris  ;  the  regent  yielded,  it 
is  said  with  regret,  to  the  majority  of 
voices ;  and  a  resolution  was  taken  to 
open  the  campaign  with  the  reduction 
of  Orleans.3  Montague,  earl  of  Salis- 
bury, had  lately  returned  from  Eng- 
land with  a  reinforcement  of  six 
thousand  men.  After  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  he  was  the  most  renowned 
of  the  English  commanders ;  and  to 
him  by  common  consent  was  intrusted 
the  conduct  of  the  siege.  On  the  part 
of  the  •  French  no  preparation  was 
omitted,  no  sacrifice  spared  to  pre- 
serve the  city,  and  annoy  the  aggres- 
sors. The  garrison  received  a  plentiful 
supply  of  ammunition  and  provisions; 
numerous  batteries  were  erected  on 


the  walls ;  and  every  building  within 
the  range  of  the  cannon  was  levelled 
to  the  ground.  The  earl  having 
previously  reduced  several  places  in 
the  neighbourhood,  passed  the  Loire 
with  ten  thousand  men,  and  es- 
tablished his  head-quarters  on  the 
left  bank  amid  the  ruins  of  a  convent. 
His  first  operations  were  directed 
against  the  Tournelles,  a  castle  which 
defended  the  passage  of  the  bridge. 
It  was  carried  by  assault;  but  the 
garrison  had  previously  broken  down 
one  of  the  arches,  and  had  built  an 
additional  work  at  the  other  extremity. 
A  few  days  afterwards,  as  the  English 
commander  stood  at  a  window  in  one 
of  the  towers  of  the  fort,  and  was 
carefully  examining  the  defences  of 
the  city,  a  shot  was  fired  at  him  from 
the  rampart.  He  saw  the  flash  and 
attempted  to  withdraw ;  but  the  ball 
tore  away  the  iron  of  the  casement, 
and  so  lacerated  his  face,  that  he  died 
in  the  course  of  the  next  week.3  The 
command  devolved  on  the  earl  of 
Suffolk,  who  received  several  rein- 
forcements, and  successively  esta- 
blished his  men  in  different  posts 
round  the  city.  They  were  lodged 
in  huts,  and  covered  from  the  fire 
of  the  besieged  by  intrenchments  of 
earth.  But  the  walls  were  of  such 
extent,  and  the  intervals  betweeu 
these  posts,  which  were  called  bas- 
tiles,  were  so  spacious,  that  often  in 
the  night  supplies  of  men  and  pro- 
visions forced  their  way  into  the 
place;  for  which  purpose  Charles 
had  established  immense  magazines 
in  the  neighbouring  city  of  Blois.4 
The  siege,  or  rather  blockade,  con- 


1  Bym.  i.  378,  385. 

2  In  his  letter  to  the  king,  the  regent  cer- 
tainly appears  to  disclaim  having  given  any 
approbation  to  the  attempt.    "Alle  things 
prospered  for  you,  till  the  tyme  of  the  seage 
of  Orleans  taken  in  hand  God  knoweth  by 
what  advice."— Rot.  Parl.  v.  435. 

3  Gunpowder  was  now  in  constant  use 
both  in  the  attack  and  defence  of  places 
The  pieces  were  called  guns  and  cuiverins 


The  first  threw  stone  balls,  sometimes 
twenty-six  inches  in  diameter :  the  second 
threw  plummets  or  balls  of  lead.  The  pow- 
der was  of  a  different  sort  for  each.  The 
guns  were  worked  by  a  master  gunner  with 
varlets  under  him.  Masons  and  carpenters 
were  attached  to  them.  See  accounts  of 
the  master  of  the  ordnance  during  the  war 
in  the  archives  de  France,  395,  421,  428,  46$. 
460;  Acts  of  Council,  v.  257. 
*  Mopstrel.  33,  39. 


A.D.  1428..! 


THE  BATTLE  OF  ROUVRAT. 


13 


tinued  during  the  winter.  In  the 
beginning  of  Lent  Sir  John  Falstaff 
left  Paris  with  fifteen  hundred  men, 
to  conduct  to  Orleans  four  hun- 
dred waggons  and  carts,  laden  with 
stores  and  provisions.  He  had  almost 
reached  the  village  of  Rouvrai  en 
Beausse,  when  he  received  the  alarm- 
ing intelligence  that  the  earl  of  Clare- 
mont  was  advancing  to  intercept  him 
with  from  four  to  five  thousand  ca- 
valry. He  halted  immediately,  sur- 
rounded his  little  army  with  a  circle 
of  carriages,  and  left  but  two  openings, 
at  each  of  which  he  posted  a  strong 
body  of  archers.  It  was  the  middle 
?f  the  night ;  and  for  two  hours  the 
attack  of  the  enemy  was  delayed  by 
the  disputes  among  their  leaders. 
Sir  John  Stuart,  who  commanded 
the  small  remnant  of  the  Scots  in 
the  service  of  Charles,  earnestly  con- 
tended that  the  men-at-arms  should 
dismount ;  the  earl  of  Claremont, 
by  the  advice  of  his  countrymen,  pre- 
ferred to  charge  on  horseback.  At 
three  in  the  morning  it  was  agreed 
that  each  nation  should  follow  its 
own  judgment.  An  attempt  was 
made  to  force  an  entrance  at  each 
opening ;  but  the  cavalry  were  re- 
pulsed by  showers  of  arrows,  and  the 
Scots  on  foot  were  all  slain.  About 
six  hundred  dead  bodies  were  left  on 
the  field;  and  Falstaff  continued  his 
march  in  triumph  to  the  camp  before 
Orleans.1  In  the  spring  the  English 
resumed  their  operations ;  lines  of 
communication  were  drawn  from  one 
bastile  to  another ;  and  the  besieged, 
seeing  themselves  invested  on  all 
sides,  proposed,  with  the  permission 
of  Charles,  to  deliver  the  city  into  the 
hands  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  to  be 
held  by  him  as  neutral  during  the 
war,  for  the  benefit  of  the  duke  of 


1  In  the  quaint  language  of  the  times, 
this  was  called  "the  battle  of  herrings;" 
because  salt  herrings  formed  a  great  por- 
tion of  the  provisions. — Monstrel.  ii.  42. 


Orleans,  a  captive  in  "England.  The 
regent  refused  the  offer.  It  was  but 
just,  he  said,  that  what  had  been  won 
with  English  blood,  should  be  the 
reward  of  English  valour.  In  this 
determination  the  Burgundian  ac- 
quiesced with  apparent  cheerfulness ; 
but  the  refusal  sank  deep  into  his 
heart ;  nor  was  it  forgotten  on  a  sub- 
sequent occasion. 

The  fall  of  Orleans  was  now  con- 
fidently anticipated ;  and  the  most 
gloomy  apprehensions  prevailed  in 
the  councils  of  the  French  monarch. 
Many  of  those  who  had  been  the 
warmest  in  their  professions  of 
attachment  silently  withdrew  from 
his  court ;  and  the  prince  himself 
meditated  a  retreat  into  the  distant 
county  of  Provence,  perhaps  into  the 
friendly  kingdom  of  Scotland,  when 
the  French  throne  was  saved  from 
ruin  by  the  daughter  of  a  small  farmer 
at  Domremy,  a  hamlet  in  Champagne, 
situate  between  Neufchateau  and 
Vaucouleurs.  The  wonderful  revo- 
lution which  she  accomplished  by 
means  apparently  supernatural,  will 
justify  an  endeavour  to  trace  the 
origin  and  progress  of  the  enthusiasm 
which,  while  it  deluded,  yet  nerved 
and  elevated  the  mind  of  this  young 
and  interesting  female.2 

Joan  d'Arc  was  born  about  the  year 
1412.  Her  education  did  not  differ 
from  that  of  the  other  poor  girls 
in  the  neighbourhood ;  but  she  was 
distinguished  above  them  all  by  her 
diligence,  modesty,  and  piety.  Dom- 
remy, like  other  villages,  had  its 
traditionary  tales  of  wonder  and 
supernatural  agency.  There  stood 
at  no  great  distance  an  old  spreading 
beech-tree,  under  the  branches  of 
which  the  fairies  were  said  to  hold 
their  nocturnal  meetings  ;  near  its 


a  The  narrative  which  follows  is  compiled 
from  the  answers  of  "  the  maid,"  and  the 
depositions  of  the  witnesses,  which  will  be 
found  in  the  volumes  of  Deseharnettes,  and 
the  tome  viii.  of  Pctitot'a  Memoirei. 


11 


HENEr  VI. 


LCHAP.  i. 


foot  ran  a  clear  streamlet,  the  waters 
of  which  were  believed  to  work  as- 
tonish iug  cures ;  and  a  little  farther 
off  was  a  still  more  sacred  spot,  a 
solitary  chapel  called  the  Hermitage 
of  the  Virgin.  Joan  was  accustomed 
to  visit  all  these  places  with  her  com- 
panions. But  the  hermitage  was  her 
favourite  resort,  where  every  Saturday 
she  hung  up  a  garland  of  flowers,  or 
burnt  a  taper  of  wax  in  honour  of 
the  mother  of  Christ.  These  her 
early  habits  are  worthy  of  notice,  as 
they  probably  served  to  impress  on 
her  mind  that  credulous  and  romantic 
character  which  it  afterwards  exhi- 
bited. The  child  was  fond  of  solitude ; 
whatever  interested  her,  became  the 
subject  of  long  and  serious  thought; 
and  in  these  day-dreams  the  young 
enthusiast  learned  to  invest  with 
visible  forms  the  creations  of  her  own 
fancy.  She  was  about  twelve  years 
old  when,  walking  in  her  father's 
garden  on  a  Sunday,  she  thought 
that  she  observed  a  brilliant  light 
on  one  side,  and  heard  a  voice  calling 
on  her  by  her  name.  She  turned, 
and  saw,  as  she  believed,  the  arch- 
angel Michael,  who  told  her  to  be 
good,  dutiful,  and  virtuous,  and  God 
would  protect  her.  She  felt  abashed 
in  his  presence,  but  at  his  departure 
•wept,  wishing  that  he  had  taken  her 
with  him. 

Besides  religion  there  was  another 
sentiment,  which  sprung  up  in  the 
breast  of  Joan.  Toung  as  she  was, 
ehe  had  heard  enough  of  the  cala- 
mities which  oppressed  her  country,  to 
abhor  the  unnatural  union  of  the  Bur- 
gundians  with  the  English,  and  to  be- 
wail the  hard  fate  of  her  natural  sove- 
reign, driven  by  rebels  and  strangers 
from  the  throne  of  his  fathers.  The 
inhabitants  of  Domremy  were  royal- 
ists ;  those  of  the  neighbouring  village 
of  Marcy,  Burgundians ;  the  two 
parties  frequently  met,  quarrelled, 
and  fought ;  and  these  petty  feuds 
served  to  rivet  the  attention  of  the 


girl  on  this  most  exciting  subject. 
At  length  arrived  the  news  of  th« 
disastrous  battle  of  Verneuil.  She 
witnessed  the  despair  of  her  parents 
and  neighbours ;  and  learned  from 
them  that  there  remained  but  one 
source  of  hope  for  her  country,  the 
possible  accomplishment  of  a  tradi- 
tionary prophecy,  that  from  Bois- 
chesnu,  the  adjoining  forest  of  oaks, 
would  come  a  maid  destined  to  be 
the  saviour  of  France. 

Such  a  prediction  was  likely  to 
make  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind 
of  Joan.  One  day,  when  she  was 
alone,  tending  her  father's  flock,  she 
again  heard  the  voice,  and  saw 
the  form  of  the  archangel ;  but  he 
was  now  accompanied  by  two  females, 
the  saints  Catherine  and  Margaret, 
names,  it  should  be  observed,  familiar 
to  her,  for  they  were  the  patronesses 
of  the  parish  church.  He  announced 
to  her  that  she  was  the  woman  pointed 
out"  by  the  prophecy ;  that  hers  was 
the  important  commission  to  conduct 
her  sovereign  to  Eheims  preparatory 
to  his  coronation ;  that  with  this 
view  she  ought  to  apply  to  Baudri- 
court,  governor  of  Vaucouleurs,  for 
the  means  of  access  to  the  royal  pre- 
sence ;  and  that  Catherine  and  Mar- 
garet would  accompany  her  as  guides 
and  monitors,  whom  it  was  her  duty 
to  obey.  It  is  plain  that  the  en- 
thusiast mistook  for  realities  the 
workings  of  her  own  imagination. 
Even  she  herself,  in  her  more  sober 
moments,  was  appalled  at  the  idea  of 
so  extraordinary  a  mission,  and  her 
confidence  was  shaken  by  the  incre- 
dulity and  disapprobation  of  her 
parents.  But  "her  voices,"  as  she 
called  them,  reiterated  the  command; 
they  reprimanded  her  for  her  dis- 
obedience ;  and  she  began  to  fear 
that  any  longer  delay  might  be  a  sin, 
which  would  endanger  her  salvation. 

It  chanced  that  a  marauding  party 
of  Burgundians  compelled  the  in- 
habitants of  Domremy  to  seek  au 


A.D.  1424.]  JOAN  OF  AltC  INTRODUCED  TO  CHAELES. 


asylum  in  Neufchateau.  The  village 
was  plundered,  and  the  church  re- 
duced to  a  heap  of  ruins.  On  their 
decarture  the  fugitives  returned,  and 
the  sight  wound  up  the  enthusiasm 
of  Joan  to  the  highest  pitch.  She 
escaped  from  her  parents,  prevailed 
on  an  uncle  to  accompany  her,  and 
announced  her  mission  to  Baudri- 
court.  Though  he  treated  her  with 
ridicule,  she  was  not  discouraged,  but 
remained  at  Vaucouleurs,  where  her 
pretensions  gradually  transpired,  and 
made  her  the  object  of  public  curi- 
osity. The  duke  of  Lorrain,  who 
laboured  under  an  incurable  disease, 
applied  to  her  as  a  woman  possessed 
of  supernatural  powers ;  but  she  an- 
swered with  her  characteristic  sim- 
plicity, that  she  had  no  mission  to 
him;  he  had  never  been  named  to 
her  by  "  her  voices." 

At  length  the  governor,  who  had 
deemed  it  his  duty  to  communicate  her 
history  to  the  dauphin,  received  an 
order  to  forward  her  to  the  French 
court.  To  penetrate  from  Vaucou- 
leurs on  the  eastern  border  of  Cham 
pagne  to  Chinon  in  Touraine,  a 
distance  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
leagues,  through  a  long  tract  of 
country,  of  which  one  portion  was 
possessed  by  hostile  garrisons,  and 
the  other  perpetually  infested  by 
parties  of  plunderers,  was  a  perilous 
and  almost  hopeless  attempt.  But 
Joan  was  confident  of  success;  on 
horseback,  and  in  male  attire,  with 
an  escort  of  seven  persons,1  she  passec 
without  meeting  an  enemy ;  and  on 
the  tenth  day  at  Fierbois,  a  few  miles 
from  Chinon,  announced  to  Charles 
her  arrival  and  object.  That  sh( 
should  have  come  safe,  was  though' 
miraculous ;  yet  two  days  were  spen 
in  deliberation ;  she  might  be,  it  was 


1  The  escort  consisted  of  her  brothe 
Peter,  the  seigneurs  de  Metz  and  Poulengy 
their  two  servants,  Colet,  a  king's  mes 
eenger,  and  Richard,  an  archer  of  the  roya 
guard.— Mem.  266. 


wisely  contended,  an  emissary  of  the 
.evil ;  and  to  elucidate  this  important 
uestion,  a  commission  was  appointed 
o   receive   her   answers   to  certain 
nterrogatories.     The  report  prcved 
avourable ;    after   much   delay   and 
acillation,  an  hour  was  fixed  for  her 
idmission  to  the  royal  presence :  and 
he   poor   maiden  of  Domremy  was 
ushered  into  a  spacious  hall,  lighted 
up  with  fifty  torches,  and  filled  with 
ome  hundreds  of  knights,  among  whom 
harles  himself  had  mixed  unnoticed, 
and  in  plain  attire.     Joan   entered 
without  embarrassment ;  the  glare  of 
)he  lights,  the  gaze  of  the  spectators 
did  not  disconcert  her.    Singling  out 
dauphin  at  the  first  glance,  she 
walked  up  to  him  with  a  firm  step, 
Dent  her  knee,  and  said,  "God  give 
you  good  life,  gentle  king."    He  was 
surprised,  but  replied :  "  I  am  not  the 
dng,  he  is  there,"  pointing  at  the 
same  time  to  a  different  part  of  the 
hall.    "In  the   name  of  God,"   she 
exclaimed,  "it  is  not  they,  but  you 
are    the    king.      Most    noble    lord 
dauphin,  I  am  Joan  the  maid,  sent 
on  the  part  of  God  to  aid  you  and 
the   kingdom,   and   by  his  order  I 
announce  to  you  that  you  will  be 
crowned  in  the   city   of  Eheims."3 
Charles  took  her  aside  ;  spent  some 
time  with  her  in  earnest  conversa- 
tion,  and,    rejoining  the   company, 
affirmed  that  she  had  discovered  to 
him  secrets  of  his  own,  which  could 
not  have  been  communicated  to  her 
by  agency  merely  human.    The  fol- 
lowing day, "  the  maid"  (so  she  was 
now  called)  made  her  appearance  in 
public  and  on  horseback.    From  her 
look  she  was  thought  be  in  her  six- 
teenth   or    seventeenth  year ;    her 
figure  was  slender  and  graceful,  and 
her  long   black  locks  fell  in  ring- 


8  "  Dieu  vous  doint  bonne  yie,  gentilRoy." 

"  Ce  ne  suis  pas  qui  sui  Roy.    Voici  le 

Roy." "En  nom  Dieu  c'estesvoue 

et  non  aultres."— Mem.  viii.  268. 


1.6 


HENRY  VI. 


I  en  A  P.  i. 


lets  on  her  shoulders.  She  ran  a 
course  with  the  lance,  and  managed 
her  horse  with  ease  and  dexterity. 
The  crowd  burst  into  shouts  of  admi- 
ration; they  saw  in  her  something 
more  than  human ;  she  was  a  knight 
descended  from  heaven  for  the  salva- 
tion of  France." l 

Had  the  pretensions  of  "  the  maid" 
been  a  political  artifice  to  raise  the 
desponding  spirits  of  his  followers, 
Charles  would  have  seized  the  present 
moment  to  lead  them  against  the 
enemy.  But  opposite  opinions 
divided  his.  council.  Many,  instead 
of  seeking  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
public  delusion,  were  afraid  of  being 
deluded  themselves.  She  was  said  to 
be  sent  to  them  from  heaven ;  but 
was  it  not  possible  that  she  might  be 
an  imp  from  hell  ?  To  elucidate  this 
grave  and  obscure  question,  Joan 
was  examined  and  re-examined  by  a 
committee  of  theologians,  by  the  par- 
liament of  Poiters,  and  by  the  whole 
body  ol  the  privy  councillors;  and 
three  weeks  elapsed  before  the  king 
would  consent  to  acknowledge  her 
in  her  supernatural  character.  That 
interval  she  spent  in  seclusion  and 
prayer ;  and  then  was  exhibited  a 
second  time  to  the  multitude,  sitting 
on  a  grey  charger,  with  her  banner 
borne  before  her,  and  armed  at  all 
points  as  a  knight.  The  air  resounded 
with  acclamations;  men  of  every  rank 
caught  the  enthusiasm ;  and  thou- 
sands offered  their  services  to  follow 
her  to  battle.  She  herself  was  eager 
to  prove  in  action  the  truth  of  her 
pretensions ;  but  the  king  checked  her 
impetuosity,  and  coolly  watched  the 
effect  of  her  presence  both  on  the 
English  as  well  as  on  his  own  sub- 
jects. 

Care  had  been  taken  that  the 
history  of  "the  maid"  should  be 
communicated  with  due  exaggeration 


1  Semble  chose  toute  divine  de  son  faict, 
«t  da  la  voir  et  de  1'ouir. — See  the  enthu- 


to  the  besiegiLg  army  before  OrleanL. 
At  first  it  was  received  with  scorn 
and  derision ;  soon  it  began  to  make 
impression  on  the  more  credulous; 
from  them  the  alarm  was  gradually 
communicated  to  their  neighbours; 
and  at  last  men  of  the  stoutest  hearts 
shrunk  from  the  task  of  encountering 
a  supernatural  though  female  cham- 
pion. It  was  in  vain  that  Suffolk  and 
his  officers  sought  to  check  and  sub- 
due this  dangerous  feeling.  If  they 
called  her  an  impostor,  appeal  was 
made  to  the  wonders  attributed  to 
her  by  report ;  if  a  sorceress,  the  men 
replied  that  they  feared  no  morta1 
like  themselves,  but  were  not  a  match 
for  the  spirits  of  darkness. 

Sixty  bastiles  or  forts,  erected  In  a, 
circle  round  Orleans,  had  effectually 
intercepted  the  communication  with 
the  country;  and  the  horrors  of 
famine  were  already  felt  within  the 
walls,  when  it  was  resolved  by  the 
French  cabinet  to  make  a  desperate 
effort  to  throw  a  supply  of  provisions 
into  the  city.  A  strong  body  of  men, 
under  some  of  the  bravest  officers  in 
France,  assembled  at  Blois,  and  "  the 
maid"  solicited  and  obtained  permis- 
sion not  only  to  join,  but  also  to 
direct,  the  expedition.  She  was  re- 
ceived as  an  envoy  from  heaven,  and 
began  the  exercise  of  her  supernatural 
authority  by  expelling  all  women  of 
loose  character  from  the  army,  and 
calling  on  the  men  to  prepare  for 
combat  by  exercises  of  devotion.  To 
Suffolk,  Glasdale,  and  Pole,  the  Eng- 
lish commanders,  she  sent  orders  in 
the  name  of  God  to  withdraw  from 
France,  and  return  to  their  native 
country ;  to  the  chiefs  of  her  own 
nation  she  promised  complete  success 
if  they  would  cross  the  Loire,  and 
march  boldly  through  La  Beauce  and 
the  quarters  of  the  enemy.  But  thet 
were  not  disposed  to  sacrifice  their 


siastic  letter  du  sire  de  Laval  a  oa  mire, 
Mem.  viii.  224  :  also  269. 


A.D.  1429.] 


LOSSES  OF  THE  ENGLISH. 


17 


own  plans  to  the  suggestions  of  an 
inexperienced  enthusiast.  Dunois, 
the  governor  of  Orleans,  taking  advan- 
tage of  her  ignorance  of  the  country, 
r  oceeded  by  La  Sologne,  on  the  left 
bank,  and,  prevailing  on  her  to  cross 
the  river  with  him  in  a  boat,  led  her 
eecretly  into  Orleans,  where  she  was 
received  by  the  citizens  with  lighted 
torches  and  acclamations  of  joy.  The 
relieving  party  had  also  embarked  in 
boats,  and  endeavoured  to  reach 
Orleans  by  water ;  but  the  wind  and 
current  forced  them  back ;  they 
landed,  crossed  by  the  bridge  at  Blois, 
and  were  thus  compelled  to  pursue 
the  route  previously  pointed  out  by 
"  the  maid."  Her  promise,  however,  or 
prediction  was  verified.  The  besiegers 
did  not  stir  from  their  intrenchments, 
and  the  convoy  entered  the  city. 

From  this  moment  it  became  dan- 
gerous to  dispute  the  celestial  mission 
of  Joan.  Her  presence  created  in 
the  soldiers  a  spirit  of  daring  and  a 
confidence  of  success  which  might 
perhaps  be  guided,  but  could  not  be 
restrained,  by  the  authority  of  their 
leaders.  Day  after  day  sallies  were 
made,  and  the  strongest  of  the  Eng- 
lish forts,  the  bastiles  of  St.  Loup, 
and  St.  Jean  le  Blanc,  and  Augustus, 
and  Les  Tournelles,  successively  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  assailants.  On 
every  occasion  "  the  maid"  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  foremost  rank,  with  her 
banner  displayed,  and  encouraging 
her  countrymen  by  her  voice  and 
gestures ;  but  at  the  storming  of  the 
Tournelles,  whilst  she  was  in  the  act 
of  planting  the  first  ladder  against 
the  wall,  an  arrow  passed  through  an 
opening  in  her  corslet,  and  fixed  itself 
between  the  chest  and  the  shoulder. 
Her  companions  conveyed  her  out  of 
the  crowd ;  the  wound  was  dressed ; 
and  the  heroine,  after  a  few  minutes 
spent  in  prayer,  rejoined  the  com- 
batants. At  her  appearance  the  as- 
sailants redoubled  their  efforts,  and 
the  fort  was  won. 


Suffolk,  disconcerted  by  these  re- 
peated losses,  and  warned  by  the 
desponding  countenances  of  his  fol- 
lowers, called  in  the  night  a  council 
of  war,  and  determined  to  raise  the 
siege.  At  dawn  the  English  army 
was  seen  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
walls,  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  and 
braving  the  enemy  to  fight  in  the 
open  field;  but  "the  maid"  forbade 
any  man  to  pass  the  gates  of  the  city. 
It  was  Sunday,  she  said,  a  day  to  be 
spent  in  prayer,  and  not  in  battle. 
Suffolk  waited  some  hours  in  vain; 
at  length  he  gave  the  signal ;  the  long 
line  of  forts,  the  fruits  of  so  many 
months'  labour,  was  instantly  in 
flames ;  and  the  soldiers,  with  feelings 
of  shame  and  regret,  turned  their 
backs  to  the  city.  The  authority  of 
Joan  prevented  any  pursuit,1  and 
Suffolk  having  distributed  his  men  in 
the  neighbouring  fortresses,  informed 
the  regent  that  he  should  be  able  to 
maintain  his  position  till  the  arrival 
of  reinforcements  from  Paris. 

But  it  was  not  the  intention  of 
Charles  to  allow  his  enemies  the 
leisure  to  breathe.  The  earl  of  Suf- 
folk was  soon  be?«ged  in  Jargeau, 
and  the  place  on  the  tenth  day  was 
carried  by  storm.  The  maid  of 
Orleans  (she  had  now  received  this 
addition  to  her  former  appellation) 
led  the  assailants,  and  reached  the 
top  of  the  wall,  from  which,  by  a 
stroke  on  the  head,  she  was  precipi- 
tated into  the  ditch.  As  she  lay, 
unable  to  rise,  she  continued  to  ex- 
hort her  friends  with  her  voice. 
"Forward,  countrymen,"  she  ex- 
claimed, "fear  nothing;  the  Lord  has 
delivered  them  into  our  hands." 
During  the  assault  an  unguarded 
corner  had  been  discovered;  the 
French  poured  into  the  place ;  more 
than  three  hundred  of  the  garrison 
perished;  and  Suffolk  with  the  re- 


1  "En  nora  Dieu,  Jaiasez  les  partir,  et 
aliens  rendre  graces  a  Dieu."  —  Me*m. 
viii.  272. 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  i. 


aiainder  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  Of  the  officer  who  demanded 
his  sword,  he  inquired  if  he  were  a 
knight ;  and  being  answered  in  the 
negative,  "Then,"  said  he,  "I  will 
make  thee  one."  Having  knighted 
him,  he  surrendered.  Mohun,  Bau- 
geney,  and  other  fortresses,  expe- 
rienced the  same  fate  as  Jargeau; 
and  the  lord  Talbot,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  command,  retired  to- 
wards Paris,  till  he  received  a  rein- 
forcement of  four  thousand  men. 
He  halted  at  Patay ;  but  the  enemy 
advanced  to  the  town  ;  and  the  time 
for  preparation  was  lost  in  unavailing 
debate.  Sir  John  Falstaff  proposed 
to  retreat  with  expedition ;  Talbot 
refused  to  show  his  back  to  the 
enomy.  He  dismounted,  and  after  a 
sha^p  action  was  made  prisoner,  with 
the  loss  of  twelve  hundred  men. 
Fal staff  fled  in  the  beginning  of  the 
action ;  and  in  punishment  of  his 
cowardice  was  condemned  to  forfeit 
the  garter.  He  proved,  however,  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  regent,  that  to 
fight  with  men  so  dispirited  as  were 
the  soldiers  at  Patay,  was  not  to  avoid 
disgrace,  but  to  invite  defeat.  His 
excuse  was  admitted,  and  he  reco- 
vered his  former  honours. 

Joan  had  always  declared  that  the 
object  of  her  mission  was  twofold,  the 
liberation  of  Orleans,  and  the  coro- 
nation of  the  king  at  Eheims.  Of 
these  the  first  had  been  accomplished, 
and  she  vehemently  urged  the  execu- 
tion of  the  second.  Though  to  pene- 
trate as  far  as  Eheims  was  an  enter- 
prise of  difficulty  and  danger,  though 
every  intermediate  fortress  was  in 
the  possession  of  the  English  or  the 
Burgundians,  Charles  determined  to 
trust  to  his  own  fortune  and  the  pre- 
dictions of  his  inspired  deliverer. 
Having  sent  a  strong  division  of 
troops  to  alarm  the  frontiers  of  Nor- 
mandy and  another  to  insult  those 


of  Guienne,  he  commenced  his  march 
with  an  army  of  ten  thousand  cavalry. 
At  Auxerre  the  citizens  refused  to 
admit  him  within  their  walls;  but 
they  supplied  him  with  provisions, 
and  engaged  to  imitate  the  conduct 
of  the  other  cities.  Those  of  Troy es, 
after  a  debate  of  four  days,  opened 
their  gates.  The  inhabitants  of 
Chalons  spontaneously  sent  him  the 
keys  of  the  town ;  and  the  citizens  of 
Eheims,  having  expelled  the  Bur- 
gundian  garrison,  received  him  with 
the  most  flattering  testimonies  of  joy.1 
The  coronation  was  performed  in  the 
usual  manner  ;  but  as  none  of  the 
peers  of  France  attended,  Charles 
appointed  proxies  to  perform  their 
duties.  During  the  ceremony,  "  the 
maid,"  with  her  banner  unfurled, 
stood  by  the  king's  side ;  as  soon  as  it 
was  over,  she  threw  herself  on  her 
knees,  embraced  his  feet,  declared 
her  mission  accomplished,  and  with 
tears  solicited  his  leave  to  return  to 
her  former  station.  But  the  king 
was  unwilling  to  lose  the  services  of 
one  who  had  hitherto  proved  so  useful: 
and  at  his  earnest  request  she  con- 
sented to  remain  with  the  army,  and 
to  strengthen  that  throne  which  she 
had  in  a  great  measure  established. 
This  unexpected  revolution  in  the 
relative  situation  of  the  two  parties, 
while  it  afflicted  the  duke  of  Bedford, 
stimulated  him  to  new  exertions.  He 
obtained  fresh  assurances  of  fidelity 
from  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  with- 
drew five  thousand  men  from  his 
Norman  garrisons,  and  received  an 
equal  number  from  his  uncle  Beau- 
fort, who  had  raised  a  small  army  for 
the  chimerical  purpose  of  suppressing 
the  Bohemian  Hussites.'-*  With  these 
he  went  in  pursuit  of  Charles,  who, 
unwilling  to  stake  his  crown  on  tho 
uncertain  event  of  a  battle,  avoided 
him  with  equal  industry.  Weary  of 
of  this  useless  labour,  he  wrote  to  the 


Rym.  x.  432. 


Eot.  Parl.  T.  435. 


A.D.  1-429.] 


JOAN  IS  MADE  PRISONER. 


19 


king  a  letter,  in  which  lie  charged 
him  with  deluding  the  people  with 
the  impostures  of  a  dissolute  woman, 
and  the  sermons  of  an  apostate  friar ; 
required  him  like  a  loyal  prince  to 
name  a  day  and  a  place  where  they 
might  meet  in  the  county  of  Brie; 
promised  that  if  a  stable  peace  could 
be  made  with  a  man  who  had  vio- 
lated his  word  to  the  late  duke  of 
Burgundy,  and  stained  himself  with 
innocent  blood,  he  would  condescend 
to  reasonable  conditions  ;  and  if  not, 
he  offered  to  fight  him  hand  to  hand, 
that  from  the  issue  of  the  combat  the 
world  might  know  whose  claim  was 
favoured  by  Heaven.  To  so  uncour- 
teous  a  message  Charles  did  not 
vouchsafe  an  answer;  but  what  the 
duke  could  not  effect,  was  brought 
about  by  accident ;  and  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Senlis  the  two  armies 
undesignedly  came  in  sight  of  each 
other.  The  English,  inferior  in 
number,  prepared  for  the  fight  after 
their  usual  manner ;  the  French 
officers,  flushed  with  success,  impa- 
tiently demanded  the  signal  of  battle. 
But  the  defeats  of  Azincourt  and 
Verneuil  had  taught  Charles  not  to 
rely  on  mere  superiority  of  number. 
He  consulted  the  maid ;  her  inspira- 
tion had  deserted  her  since  the  expe- 
dition to  Biheims.  Sometimes  she 
advised,  at  others  dissuaded  an  en- 
gagement; two  days  were  passed  in 
deliberation  ;  and  on  the  third,  after 
a  few  sharp  skirmishes,  the  armies 
separated  as  if  it  had  been  by  mutual 
consent.  The  regent  hastened  into 
Normandy,  and  repulsed  the  con- 
stable, who  had  penetrated  into  that 
duchy;  and  Charles,  at  the  solicita- 
tion of  his  female  champion,  took 
advantage  of  the  duke's  absence  to 
make  an  attempt  on  the  capital. 
Soissons,  Senlis,  Beauvais,  and  St. 
Denis  opened  their  gates.  He  ad- 
vanced to  Montmartre,  published  an 
amnesty,  and  directed  an  assault  on 


1  Monatrel.  ii.  52.    Mem.  viii.  337. 


the  faubourg  of  St.  Honore*.  The 
action  lasted  four  hours.  At  its  very 
commencement  Joan  received  a  dan- 
gerous wound,  was  thrown  into  the 
ditch,  and  lay  there  unnoticed,  till 
she  was  discovered  in  the  evening, 
and  carried  off  by  a  party  sent  to 
search  after.  Charles,  mortified  by 
the  obstinate  resistance  of  the  Pari- 
sians, retired  to  Bourges ;  whilst  the 
maid,  looking  on  her  wound  as  an 
admonition  from  Heaven  that  her 
commission  had  ceased  with  the  coro- 
nation at  Rheirns,  consecrated  her 
armour  to  God  in  the  church  of  St. 
Denis.  Her  services,  however,  were 
still  wanted.  At  the  solicitation  of 
her  sovereign  she  consented  to  resume 
the  profession  of  arms,  and  accepted  a 
patent  of  nobility  for  herself  and  her 
family,  accompanied  with  a  grant  of 
income  equal  to  that  of  an  earl.1 

While  the  severity  of  the  weather 
suspended  the  operations  of  war,  both 
parties  endeavoured  to  strengthen 
themselves  by  means  of  negotiation. 
It  was  more  than  suspected  that  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  began  to  repent  of 
his  alliance  with  England;  and  his 
fidelity  was  tempted  by  an  honourable 
embassy  from  Charles,  who  offered 
him  every  reasonable  satisfaction  for 
the  murder  of  his  father.  By  the 
majority  of  his  council  the  proposal 
was  cheerfully  received;  but  the 
influence  of  his  sister,  the  duchess  of 
Bedford,  fixed  the  wavering  senti- 
ments of  her  brother ;  and  the  duke, 
in  consideration  of  the  payment  of 
twenty-five  thousand  nobles,  engaged 
to  assume  the  command  of  the  united 
army  at  the  commencement  of  spring. 
He  undertook  to  reduce  the  city  of 
Compeigne;  and  the  maid  was  selected 
to  raise  the  siege.  On  her  march  she 
met  an  inferior  force  of  Burgundians, 
defeated  it  after  an  obstinate  resist- 
ance, and  ordered  its  commander, 
Franquet,  to  be  beheaded  on  the 
spot.2  On  the  very  evening  of  her 


2  So  said  her  enemies :  she  says,  that  aha 

c; 


20 


HENRY  VI. 


LCIIAP.  i. 


arrival  she  surprised  the  post  of  Ma- 
rigni;  but  reinforcements  poured  in 
from  every  quarter,  and  in  a  short 
time  the  assailants  turned  their  backs. 
The  heroine  immediately  took  the 
command  of  the  rear-guard,  and  re- 
peatedly facing  about,  repulsed  the 
pursuers.  At  last,  however,  her  men 
were  broken ;  an  archer  pulled  her 
from  her  horse ;  and,  as  she  lay  on  the 
ground,  she  surrendered  to  the 
bastard  of  Vendome.  The  shouts  of 
the  allied  army  announced  to  the 
besieged  the  fate  of  their  heroine,  who 
was  conducted  to  the  quarters  of 
John  of  Luxemburg,  and  after  some 
months  was  sold  by  him  to  the  regent. 
Though  the  garrison  was  grieved,  it 
was  not  dismayed  by  this  accident ; 
and  the  place  defied  the  power  of  the 
enemy,  till  the  siege  was  raised  by  the 
approach  of  the  French  army  under 
the  marshal  de  Boussac.1 

The  unfortunate  maid  was  treated 
with  neglect  by  her  friends,  with 
cruelty  by  her  enemies.  If  ever  prince 
had  been  indebted  to  a  subject, 
Charles  VII.  was  indebted  to  Joan 
d'Arc.  She  had  dispelled  the  terror 
with  which  success  had  invested  the 
English  arms,  had  re-animated  the 
courage  of  the  French  soldiery,  and 
had  firmly  established  the  king  on  the 
throne  of  his  ancestors.  Yet,  from 
the  moment  of  her  captivity,  she 
appears  to  have  been  forgotten.  "We 
read  not  of  any  sum  offered  for  her 
ransom,  or  attempt  made  to  alleviate 
the  rigour  of  her  confinement,  or 


notice  taken  of  her  trial  and  execution. 
Her  enthusiasm  had  produced  the  pro- 
mised effect;  and  when  it  was  no  longer 
wanted,  the  jealousy  of  the  French 
commanders  was  not  displeased  at  the 
removal  of  a  female  and  plebeian  rival. 
By  the  humanity  of  later  ages,  the 
life  of  the  prisoner  of  war  is  considered 
as  sacred ;  a  few  centuries  ago  he  re- 
mained at  the  mercy  of  the  captor, 
who  might  retain  him  in  custody, 
liberate  him  for  money,  or  put  him 
to  death.2  Avarice,  however,  generally 
prevailed  over  cruelty  or  resentment ; 
and  the  wealth  to  be  obtained  from 
the  ransom  of  prisoners  was  one  of 
the  most  powerful  inducements  to 
military  service.  Yet,  even  the 
present  war  had  furnished  several 
instances,  in  which  captives,  dis- 
tinguished for  their  ferocity  or  ob- 
stinacy, had  suffered  death ;  and  the 
recent  execution  of  the  celebrated 
Burgundian  leader,  Franquet,  made 
it  doubtful  whether  the  maid  herself 
did  not  approve  of  the  practice.  Had, 
therefore,  her  enemies  dealt  with  her 
in  the  same  manner,  though  her 
partisans  might  have  lamented  her 
fate,  they  could  not  have  charged 
them  with  injustice;3  but  the  bishop 
of  Beauvais,  in  whose  diocese  she  had 
been  taken,  claimed  the  right  of  trying 
her  in  his  court  on  an  accusation  of 
sorcery  and  imposture.4  It  is  gene- 
rally supposed  that  this  claim  was 
made  at  the  suggestion  of  the  duke 
of  Bedford,  who  trusted  that  the 
general  belief  of  her  supernatural 


Bought  to  exchange  him  for  De  Lours,  but 
the  judges  of  Lagny  condemned  him  to 
death.— Petitot,  285. 

1  Mem.  viii.  ibid.     Monstrelet,  59—67. 
He  was  present  at  the  time,  and  saw  "  the 
maid"  in  the  tent  of  John  of  Luxemburg. 

2  Of  this  a  memorable  instance  occurs  in 
Fenn's  collection  of  original  letters,  among 
which  is  one  from  Wennyngton,  the  English 
admiral,  stating  his  determination  to  kill  or 
drown  the  crews  of  one  hundred  merchant- 
men, which  he  had  taken,  unless  the  council 
•hould  think  it  better  to  preserve  their  lives. 
—Vol.  i.  p.  213. 


3  This  is  the  observation  made  in  a  letter 
written  in  the  name  of  Henry  to  the  duke 
of  Burgundy.    Ainsi  que  faire  nous  estoit 
raisonablement    licite,    attendu    les    grans 
dommages  et    inconveniens,  les    horribles 
homicides,    et    detestables     cruautez,     et 
autres  maux    innumerable^    qu'elle    avoit 
comrnis  a  1'encontre  de  nostre  seigneurie, 
et  loyal  peuple  obeissant. — Apud  Monstrel. 
ii.  72. 

4  This  bishop  was  so  devoted  to  the  English 
interest,  that  in  the  preceding  year  he  had 
been  recommended  by  the  council  to  the 
pope  to  be  translated  to  the  archbishopric 
of  Rouen.— Kvm.  x.  433. 


A.D.  1431.J          TRIAL  AND  EXECUTION  OF  JOAN. 


mission  would  yield  to  the  condem- 
nation of  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal. 
That  he  considered  her  an  agent  of 
the  devil,  is  evident  from  one  of  his 
own  letters  j1  and  the  history  of  her 
trial  shows  that  the  same  opinion  had 
been  imbibed  by  the  credulity  of  her 
judges.  The  inquiry  was  opened  at 
Rouen ;  on  sixteen  different  days  she 
was  brought  to  the  bar ;  the  questions, 
with  her  answers,  were  laid  before 
the  university  of  Paris;  and  the 
opinion  of  that  body  concurred  with 
the  judgment  of  the  court.  Still  the 
sentence  was  delayed  from  day  to  day; 
and  repeated  attempts  were  made  to 
save  her  from  the  punishment  of 
death,  by  inducing  her  to  make  a 
frank  and  explicit  confession.  But 
the  spirit  of  the  heroine  continued 
undaunted ;  she  proudly  maintained 
that  she  had  been  the  inspired  minis- 
ter of  the  Almighty  ;  and  repeated 
her  conviction  that  she  was  often 
favoured  with  visits  from  the  arch- 
angel Michael,  and  saints  Margaret 
and  Catherine.  The  fatal  day,  how- 
ever, arrived,  and  the  captive  was 
placed  at  the  bar ;  but  when  the 
judge  had  prepared  to  pronounce 
sentence,  she  yielded  to  a  sudden 
impulse  of  terror,  subscribed  an  act 
of  abjuration,  and,  having  promised 
upon  oath  never  more  to  wear  male 
attire,  was  remanded  to  her  former 
place  of  confinement.  Her  enthu- 
siasm, however,  revived  in  the  soli- 
tude of  a  prison ;  her  cell  was  again 
peopled  with  celestial  visitants,  and 
new  scenes  of  military  glory  opened 
to  her  imagination.  An  impartial 
observer  would  have  pitied  and  re- 
spected the  mental  delusion  with 
which  she  was  afflicted  ;  the  credulity 
of  her  judges  condemned  her,  on  the 
charge  of  having  relapsed  into  her 


21 

former  errors.  She  was  led  sobbing 
and  struggling  to  the  stake ;  nor  did 
the  expectation  of  a  heavenly  deli- 
verer forsake  her,  till  she  saw  the  fire 
kindled  at  her  feet.  She  then  burst 
into  loud  exclamations,  protesting  her 
inaocence,  and  invoking  the  aid  of 
the  Almighty;  and  just  before  the 
flames  enveloped  her,  was  seen  em- 
bracing a  crucifix,  and  calling  on 
Christ  for  mercy.  This  cruel  and 
unjustifiable  tragedy  was  acted  in  the 
market-place  of  Rouen,  before  an  im- 
mense concourse  of  spectators,  about 
twelve  months  after  her  capture.5 

According  to  the  general  persuasion 
of  the  age,  the  ceremony  of  coronation 
was  believed  to  consecrate  the  person, 
and  confirm  the  right  of  the  sovereign. 
No  sooner  had  Charles  been  crowned 
at  Rheims,  than  the  duke  of  Bedford 
determined  that  his  nephew  should 
be  also  crowned  at  the  same  place. 
The  young  king,  as  a  preparatory 
step,  received  the  regal  unction  at 
Westminster  in  his  eighth  year  t 
from  which  moment  the  title  of 
protector  was  suppressed,  and  that 
of  prime  counsellor  only  retained.3 
But  the  poverty  of  the  exchequer, 
joined  to  the  untoward  events  of  the 
war,  retarded  his  progress;  and  six 
months  elapsed  before  he  was  enabled 
to  leave  England.  At  length  the 
sums  necessary  for  his  journey  were 
raised  by  loan  ;  the  cardinal  of  Win- 
chester consented  to  accompany  him ; 
and  the  duke  of  Gloucester  was  ap- 
pointed the  king's  lieutenant  during 
his  absence.  Henry  proceeded  to 
Rouen  ;  but  the  prospect  of  pene- 
trating to  Rheims  grew  fainter  every 
day ;  and  at  the  end  of  eighteen 
months  it  was  determined  that  the 
coronation  should  take  place  in  Paris. 
In  November,  1431,  attended  by  the 


1  "  A  disciple  and  lyme  of  the  fiende,  that 
used  false  enchauntments  and  sorcerie." — 
Byra.  x.  408. 

2  Meyer,  316,  317.— M^ra.  viii.  337—402. 
Twenty-five  years  later  this  judgment  was 


reversed  by  the  archbishop  of  Eheims  and 
the  bishop  of  Paris  (7th  July,  1456),  whom 
Pope  Calixtus  had  appointed  to  revise  it,  at 
the  solicitation  of  her  mother  Isabella.— 
Kaynald.  vi.  77.  »  Hot.  Parl.  iv.  337. 


22 

chief  of  the  English  nobility,  and 
three  thousand  horse,  he  left  Pon- 
toise,  and  was  met  on  the  road  by 
the  clergy,  the  parliament,  the  magis- 
trates, and  the  citizens  of  the  capital. 
Triumphal  arches  had  been  erected ; 
mysteries  were  performed,  and  de- 
vices were  exhibited  to  honour  and 
entertain  the  young  king.  But  under 
these  public  demonstrations  of  joy,  the 
Parisians  could  with  difficulty  conceal 
their  forebodings  of  subsequent  cala- 
mities. The  coronation  of  Henry 
bore  but  little  resemblance  to  the 
coronation  of  their  native  monarchs. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  by  an 
English  prelate,  the  cardinal  of  "Win- 
chester ;  the  high  offices  of  state  were 
filled  by  foreigners,  or  by  natives  of 
inferior  rank ;  and  no  prince  of  the 
blood-royal  of  France,  not  one  of  the 
lay  peers,  not  even  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, attended  to  grace  the  court  of 
the  new  king.  After  a  few  days  Henry 
was  re-conducted  to  Rouen ;  where 
he  resided  a  year,  and  then  returned 
by  Calais  to  England.1 

During  the  king's  absence  in  France 
the  duke  of  Gloucester  had  displayed 
his  zeal  for  religion  and  the  public 
tranquillity,  by  the  suppression  of  riots 
and  insurrections  in  several  counties, 
occasioned  by  the  circulation  of  sedi- 
tious handbills,  and  the  spread  of  the 
Lollard  doctrine,  that  priests  ought 
not  to  be  "possessioners,"  and  that 
among  Christians  all  things  ought  to 
be  in  common.  He  spent  the  summer 
in  moving  from  place  to  place,  at- 
tended by  one  of  the  judges,  and 
inflicting  the  penalty  of  death  on 
the  guilty;  but  it  appears  that  his 
loyalty  and  religion  were  inspired 
and  invigorated  by  his  passion  for 
money.  In  the  month  of  May  he 
demanded  and  obtained  from  the 


VI. 


[CHAP.  1. 


council  a  reward  of  500  marks;  in 
July  he  made  another  demand,  and 
received  an  equal  sum;  his  rapacity 
was  not  yet  satisfied,  and  in  Novem- 
ber the  lords  consented  that  he  should 
be  entitled  to  a  yearly  salary  of  6,000 
marks  during  the  king's  absence,  and 
of  5,000  after  the  king's  return,  but 
on  condition  that  he  should  perform 
his  duty  without  making  any  addi- 
tional claim  for  particular  services.2 

The  war  languished  during  the  two 
following  years.  Its  duration  had 
impoverished  and  exhausted  both 
parties:  but  if  they  were  unable 
through  weakness  to  act  with  vigour, 
they  were  equally  unwilling  through 
pride  to  put  an  end  to  the  contest. 
In  1432  happened  an  event  which 
inclined  the  balance  in  favour  of 
Charles.  The  duchess  of  Bedford, 
whose  influence  with  her  husband 
and  brother  had  kept  together  the 
discordant  materials  of  which  the 
confederacy  was  composed,  died  in 
November ;  and  the  precipitate  union 
of  the  regent  with  Jacquetta  of  Lux- 
emburg, a  vassal  of  the  Burgundian, 
hastened  its  dissolution.  Philip's 
disapprobation  was  received  by  the 
duke  with  anger  and  contempt ; 
officious  friends  were  not  wanting  to 
widen  the  breach  by  their  malicious 
suggestions;  and  so  marked  and 
public  was  the  alienation  of  the  two 
princes,  that  when  the  cardinal 
of  Winchester  laboured  to  effect 
a  reconciliation,  and  had  brought 
them  both  within  the  walls  of  St. 
Omer,  he  could  not  induce  them  to 
speak  to  each  other.3  This  propitious 
opportunity  was  not  lost  by  the  mi- 
nisters of  Charles,  who  employed  every 
expedient  to  detach  the  Burgundian 
from  his  allies.  He  had  now  taken 
ample  revenge  for  the  murder  of  his 


1  Monstrel.  ii.  78—80. 

2  See  Fabyan,  602;  Chron.  of  London, 
119;  Hall,  166;  Acts  of  Coun.  iv.  88,  89,  91, 
100,  4,  6,  6,  7 ;  Pell  Records,  412,  415.     It  is 
singular  that,  though  in  the  minutes  of  the 


council  100  marks  only  are  ordered  to  be 
paid  to  the  duke  in  July,  yet  it  appears  from 
the  "  Issue  Roll  •'  that  payment  of  500  marks 
was  made  to  him  on  the  same  account fh» 
next  day.— Pell  Records,  412. 
*  Monstrel.  ii.  90. 


A.D.  1435.] 


CONGRESS  OF  AttllAS. 


father ;  his  prejudices  and  his  interest 
were  intimately  connected  with  the 
cause  of  his  native  sovereign ;  and  the 
wishes  of  his  council  and  subjects  ran 
in  the  same  channel.  If  he  still 
adhered  to  a  league  which  he  now 
hated  and  condemned,  it  was  in  con- 
sideration of  his  oath  not  to  make 
peace  without  the  consent  of  the 
English.  To  remove  the  difficulty,  it 
was  suggested  in  a  conference  be- 
tween him  and  his  brothers-in-law, 
the  duke  of  Bourbon  and  the  con- 
stable of  France,  to  attempt  a  general 
pacification  under  the  mediation  of 
the  pope,  as  the  common  father  of 
Christian  princes. 

To  this  proposal  Eugenius  IV. 
gladly  acceded ;  and  in  1435  was  held 
the  congress  of  Arras,  the  most  illus- 
trious meeting  for  political  purposes 
which  Europe  had  yet  witnessed. 
The  duke  of  Burgundy,  the  most 
magnificent  prince  of  the  age,  sum- 
moned to  his  court  all  the  nobility  of 
his  states :  the  pontiff  was  represented 
by  the  cardinal  of  Santa  Croce ;  and 
the  council  of  Basil,  which  was  then 
sitting,  by  the  cardinal  of  Cyprus; 
the  interests  of  the  young  Henry  were 
supported  by  his  great-uncle  Cardinal 
Beaufort,  with  twenty-six  colleagues, 
half  French  and  half  English ; '  and 
Charles  sent  a  legation  of  twenty- 
nine  noblemen  and  ministers,  at  the 
head  of  whom  were  the  duke  of 
Bourbon  and  the  constable.  To  these 
were  added  envoys  from  the  kings  of 
Sicily,  Norway,  Denmark,  and  Poland, 
from  many  of  the  princes  of  Germany 
and  Italy,  and  from  the  cities  of 
Flanders  and  the  Hanse  Towns.  The 
first  days  were  spent  in  feastings, 
tournaments,  and  parties  of  pleasure ; 
but  even  in  these  the  cordiality  be- 
tween the  Burgundians  and  the 
French  was  sufficiently  apparent  to 
awaken  the  jealousy  and  apprehen- 
sions of  the  English.  The  cardinal  of 


j  Santa  Croce  opened  the  conferences 
j  with  a  common-  place  -harangue  on 
the  ravages  and  evils  of  war ;  and 
!  projects  and  counter-projects  were 
exchanged  for  several  days;  but  th« 
pretensions  of  the  two  courts  were  so 
opposite  arid  extravagant,  that  every 
|  hope  of  pacification  speedily  vanished.' 
Both  the  cardinals  mediators  and  the 
Burgundian  ministers  had  been 
:  gained  by  the  French.  The  former 
!  openly  blamed  the  inflexibility  of  the 
|  English ;  the  latter  had  prepared  for 
;  signature  a  treaty  of  amity  between 
I  their  master  and  Charles.  To  spare 
himself  the  mortification  of  witnessing 
so  unfavourable  a  transaction,  the 
cardinal  of  Winchester,  with  his  col- 
leagues, departed  from  the  scene  of 
negotiation;  and  three  weeks  after- 
wards peace  was  proclaimed  between 
France  and  Burgundy.  The  condi- 
tions had  been  dictated  by  Philip; 
that  Charles  should  express  his  sorrow 
for  the  murder  of  the  late  duke, 
should  engage  to  punish  the  murder- 
ers, and  should  surrender  to  Philip 
several  fortresses  as  a  security  for  the 
payment  of  four  hundred  thousand 
crowns.  As  soon  as  the  treaty  had 
been  signed,  the  French  negotiators, 
falling  on  their  knees  in  presence  of 
the  duke,  begged  pardon  for  the 
murder  of  his  father ;  and  he,  laying 
his  hands  on  a  golden  cross  placed 
before  the  eucharist,  solemnly  de- 
clared that  he  forgave  the  king  from 
his  heart.  The  cardinals  then  absolved 
him  and  his  lords  from  the  oath  of 
alliance  with  England.  To  conclude 
the  ceremony,  the  barons  on  each 
side,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
age,  swore  to  enforce  the  observance 
of  the  treaty.  The  inutility  and  im- 
piety of  such  oaths  were  shown  by 
the  remark  of  the  lord  of  Launay, 
who,  when  it  came  to  his  turn,  ex- 
claimed, "  This  is  the  sixth  peace  to 
which  I  have  sworn  since  the  be- 


1  Eym.  z.  611. 


2  Rot.  Pari.  ir.  481. 


HE1SRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  L. 


ginning  of  the  war.  The  five  first 
ware  all  broken.  But  as  for  this, 
whatsoever  others  may  do,  I  declare 
b«fbre  God  that  I  will  observe  it." * 

To  detail  the  complex  but  unim- 
portant operations  of  the  war  during 
the  ten  following  years  would  be  a 
tedious  and  intricate  task.  The  lead- 
ing particulars  under  different  heads 
may  suffice  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of 
the  reader.  1.  Before  the  dissolution 
of  the  congress  of  Arras,  the  duke  of 
Bedford  expired  at  Rouen.  He  left 
the  reputation  of  a  prudent  states- 
man, and  a  brave  and  experienced 
general ;  and  his  name  was  long  and 
respectfully  remembered  by  his  ene- 
mies as  well  as  his  countrymen.  He 
was  buried  in  the  cathedral,  on  the 
right  hand  of  the  high  altar;  and 
when  some  years  later  it  was  suggested 
to  Louis  XI.  to  remove  his  bones  to  a 
less  honourable  situation,the  monarch 
angrily  replied,  "  I  will  not  war  with 
the  remains  of  a  prince  who  was  once  a 
match  for  your  fathers  and  mine ;  and 
who,  were  he  now  alive,  would  make 
the  proudest  of  us  tremble.  Let  his 
ashes  rest  in  peace,  and  may  the 
Almighty  have  mercy  on  his  soul ! " 2 

2.  To  the  duke  of  Bedford  suc- 
ceeded Richard  duke  of  York ;  but 
before  his  arrival  Paris  had  returned 
to  the  obedience  of  its  native  sove- 
reign. The  citizens  had  always  been 
attached  to  the  Burgundians,  and 
with  them  were  willing  to  transfer 
their  services  from  Henry  to  Charles. 
The  gate  of  St.  Jacques  was  betrayed 
in  the  night  to  Adam  de  Lisle  and  the 
count  de  Dunois;  chains  thrown 
across  the  streets  prevented  the 
arrival  of  the  English ;  the  lord  Wil- 
loughby  with  the  garrison  retired 
into  tho  Bastile ;  and  an  honourable 
capitulation  freed  the  capital  from 
the  dominion  of  strangers.  The  duke 


landed  in  Nounandy  with  eight  thou- 
sand men.  He  soon  reduced  the 
towns  which  had  revolted  or  surren- 
dered to  the  enemy ;  and  John  Lord 
Talbot,  afterwards  earl  of  Shrewsbury, 
by  hie  activity  and  courage  restored 
the  reputation  of  the  English  arms. 
He  defeated,  near  Rouen,  a  body  of 
French,  who  had  been  invited  by  the 
treachery  of  the  inhabitants;  and 
soon  afterwards,  taking  advantage  of 
a  fall  of  snow,  surprised  the  town  of 
Pontoise  with  a  body  of  men,  who, 
dressed  in  white,  had  concealed  them- 
selves in  a  ditch.  Thence  he  spread 
desolation  and  terror  to  the  very  walls 
of  Paris.3 

3.  The  duke  of  Burgundy  intended 
bo  remain  neutral ;  the  insults  of  the 
English  and  the  inclination  of  his 
subjects  dragged  him  into  the  war. 
He  proved,  however,  a  feeble  enemy. 
Some  of  his  nobles  refused  to  assist 
him,  on  the  ground  of  the  fealty 
which  they  had  sworn  to  the  king  of 
England ;  nor  is  it  improbable  that  he 
himself  felt  some  scruple  on  the  same 
account.  This  is  certain,  that  he 
never  could  be  induced  to  face  an 
English  army.  At  the  request  of  the 
people  of  Flanders  he  undertook  to 
reduce  Calais ;  and  the  duke  of  Glou- 
cester, who  had  been  ordered  to  relieve 
it,  sent  the  Burgundian  a  challenge 
to  fight  in  the  open  field ;  but  four 
days  before  his  arrival  Philip  had 
retired  with  precipitation  into  his 
own  territories.  It  was  in  vain  that 
he  was  followed  by  Gloucester,  to 
whom  Henry,  as  king  of  France,  had 
ridiculously  granted  the  earldom  of 
Flanders,  forfeited,  as  it  was  pro- 
tended, by  the  treason  of  the  Bur- 
gundian.4 The  next  year  Philip 
besieged  the  town  of  Crotoi,  at  tno 
mouth  of  the  Somme.  To  succour 
that  fortress  Talbot  marched  from 


i  Monstrel.  ii.  108—119.    Meyer,  323. 
»  Stow,  p.  475.    Hall,  129. 
»  Monstrel.  ii.  127. 


4  Eym.  i.  653.  For  the  charges  brought 
by  the  duke  against  the  English,  and  the 
answer  given  Iby  the  council,  see  Mon- 
strelet,  ii.  125,  and  Acts  of  Coun.  iv.  329. 


A.D.  1440.]     SIEGES  OF  HARFLEUR  AND  PONTO1SE. 


Normandy  with  a  small  army  of  four 
thousand  men.  They  spent  the  night 
at  St.  Valery ;  the  next  morning  they 
plunged  into  the  water  at  Blanche- 
taque ;  and,  though  it  reached  to 
their  breasts,  crossed  the  ford  without 
accident.  Astonished  at  their  bold- 
ness, the  besiegers  retired  within 
their  lines,  and  the  duke  withdrew 
to  Abbeville.  Talbot  ravaged  the 
country  with  impunity ;  the  Bur- 
gundians  mutinied  in  the  camp; 
and  the  garrison  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  pursue  them  to  a  consider- 
able distance.1 

4.  In  1437  the  duke  of  York  was 
recalled,  and'succeeded  by  Beauchamp, 
surnamed  the  Good,  earl  of  Warwick, 
with  the  title  of  lieutenant-general, 
and  governor  of  France.2    His  short 
administration  (for  he  died  at  Rouen 
in  less  than  two  years)  was  not  distin- 
guished by   any   remarkable   event. 
Instead  of  the  ravages  of  war,  both 
countries  were   exposed  to  a  more 
dreadful   scourge   in    the  combined 
operation  of  famine  and  pestilence.3 

5.  In  1439  the  earl  of  Richemont, 
constable  of  France,   recovered  the 
city  of  Meaux  in  defiance  of  the  lord 
Talbot,  who  endeavoured  to  raise  the 
siege.    But  this  loss  was  compensated 
the  next  year  by  the  capture  of  Har- 
fleur,  which,  with  the  greater  portion 
of  Caux,  had  been  wrested  from  Henry 
in  1432.    The  earl  of  Somerset,  with 
Talbot  and  many  other  distinguished 
officers,  lay  before  it  during  several 
months ;  and  so  secure  did  they  con- 
sider themselves,  that  the   countess 
with  several  ladies  consented  to  spend 


the  summer  in  the  midst  of  the  camp. 
The  count  d'Eu,  by  order  of  Charles, 
attempted  to  relieve  the  place.  The 
besiegers  were  attacked  at  the  same 
time  in  four  different  points  by  sea 
and  land;  but  every  effort  to  break 
through  their  intrenchments  proved 
ineffectual:  the  assailants  were  re- 
pulsed with  considerable  loss ;  and  the 
garrison  surrendered.4 

6.  The  complaints  of  the  Parisians 
stimulated  Charles  to  undertake  the 
siege  of  Pontoise.  He  invested  it 
with  twelve  thousand  men,  threw 
up  bastiles,  and  fortified  them  with 
batteries.  Talbot  on  two  occasions 
succeeded  in  throwing  supplies  and 
reinforcements  into  the  place.  The 
duke  of  York,  who  had  been  appointed 
the  king's  lieutenant  a  second  time, 
arrived  with  eight  thousand  men,  and 
offered  battle  to  Charles.  But  the 
French  monarch  still  respected  the 
valour  of  his  opponents ;  he  refused 
to  fight  without  a  manifest  advantage, 
and  contented  himself  with  observing 
the  fords  over  the  Oise.  In  the 
night  Talbot  made  a  false  attack  on 
the  bridge  of  Beaumont,  while  lower 
down  the  river  four  men  silently 
crossed  to  the  opposite  side  in  a  boat 
of  leather,  and  drew  after  them  several 
others.  A  bridge  of  ropes  was  now 
thrown  across ;  and  before  any  dis- 
covery was  made,  six  hundred  men 
had  strongly  intrenched  themselves 
on  the  left  bank.  A  fruitless  attempt 
was  made  to  dislodge  them;  the 
French  army  dispersed,  and  the  duke 
reinforced  the  garrison.  He  returned 
to  Normandy,  leaving  two  thousand 


-  Monstrel.  ii.  148—150. 
2  Rym.  x.  675. 

a  In  England  the  value  of  wheat  rose  to 
what  was  then  considered  the  enormous 
price  of  three  shillings  and  fourpence  the 
bushel ;  and  the  people  supported  life  by 
making  bread  of  pease,  beans,  and  vetches, 
though  in  London  the  merchants,  by  the 
importation  of  rye  from  the  Baltic,  contri- 
buted to  lessen  the  scarcity.  In  France  we 
are  told  by  an  eye-witness  that  the  advance 


in  the  price  of  provisions  was  tenfold ;  and 
that  the  number  of  those  who  expired  of 
want  and  disease  among  the  lower  classes 
was  immense.  This  calamitous  visitation 
lasted  two  years.— See  Wyrcest.  459 ;  Mon- 
strel. ii.  151,  155  ;  Fab.  435.  On  account  of 
the  danger  of  infection ,  an  act  waa  passed 
that  no  person  when  he  did  homage,  should, 
ns  usual,  kiss  the  king,  but  the  homage 
should  be  deemed  good  in  law  with  the 
omission  of  the  ceremony.  —  Rot.  Parl. 
v.  31.  *  Monstrel.  ii.  J73, 174. 


26 


HENRY  VI 


[CHAP,  i 


of  the  enemy  in  one  of  the  bastiles, 
which  was  too  strongly  fortified  to  be 
attacked  with  impunity  ;  and  the 
sarcasm  of  the  Parisians  compelled 
Charles  to  resume  the  siege.  At 
length  the  French  got  possession  of 
the  church  of  Notre  Dame,  which 
overlooked  the  walls ;  and  three  days 
afterwards  a  bloody  but  successful 
assault  restored  this  important  place 
to  the  dominion  of  the  French 
monarch.1 

7.  In  the  two  next  years  Charles 
reduced  several  fortresses  in  Guienne, 
while  the  English  spread  themselves 
over  Picardy,  Maine,  and  Anjou. 
The  pope  repeatedly  exhorted  the 
rival  powers  to  lay  aside  their  arms ; 
and  Isabella,  duchess  of  Burgundy, 
offered  herself  as  a  mediatrix  equally 
attached  to  each  party ;  to  France  by 
her  marriage  with  Duke  Philip,  to 
England  by  her  descent  from  John 
of  Ghent,  by  her  mother  the  queen  of 


Portugal.  Her  efforts  were  power- 
fully seconded  by  Cardinal  Beaufort, 
who,  aware  that  the  resources  of  the 
country  and  the  patience  of  the 
people  were  exhausted,  proclaimed 
himself  the  advocate  of  peace ;  but 
were  as  strenuously  opposed  by  the 
duke  of  Gloucester,  who  would  never 
subscribe  to  the  disgrace  of  surrender- 
ing to  the  enemy  what  his  brother 
had  won  at  the  cost  of  so  much  trea- 
sure and  blood.  The  cardinal  might 
rely  on  a  majority  in  the  council  and 
among  the  people;  but  was  as  effectu- 
ally thwarted  by  the  obstinacy  of  the 
French  cabinet,  to  whom  the  con- 
tinuation of  war  promised  greater 
advantages  than  any  peace  which  the 
English  ministers  dared  to  conclude. 
Hence  the  frequent  attempts  at  nego- 
tiation served  only  to  show  the  supe- 
riority assumed  by  one  nation,  and 
to  excite  irritation  and  despondency 
in  the  other.2  But  the  quarrel  with 


i  Monstrel.  ii.  187—191. 

*  The  instructions  delivered  to  the  English 
negotiators  on  one  of  these  occasions  (at 
Calais,  1439)  are  still  eiiant,  and  present  a 
most  curious  specimen  of  diplomatic  finesse. 
They  were  ordered,  1.  To  demand  from 
Charles  a  formal  recognition  of  Henry's 
title  to  the  throne  of  France,  and  to  enforce 
this  demand,  not  by  any  inquiry  into  the 
king's  right  (that  had  been  placed  beyond 
the  reach  of  doubt  by  the  decision  of  his 
royal  father  and  Edward  III.),  but  by  in- 
sisting on  the  pacification  of  Troves,  and 
the  judgment  of  God,  manifested  by  the 
victories  which  he  had  given  to  small  bodies 
of  Englishmen  over  the  immense  hosts  of 
their  enemies.  But,  2.  If  the  demand  were 
refused,  they  were  to  make  an  offer  to 
Charles  of  a  principality  beyond  the  Loire 
•with  a  clear  annual  revenue  of  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds.  3.  These,  however,  were  but 
preliminary  flourishes,  proposals  made  that 
they  might  be  rejected.  The  lord  cardinal 
of  Winchester  was  now  to  address  the  am- 
bassadors of  both  parties,  not  as  a  nego- 
tiator (he  was  not  even  named  in  the  com- 
mission), but  as  a  prince  of  the  church, 
whom  his  desire  to  stop  the  effusion  of 
human  blood  had  induced  to  assume  the 
character  of  me/'aator  with  the  duchess  of 
Burgundy.  In  a  set  speech  he  was  to 
exhort  both  parties  to  terminate  a  quarrel 
which  had  now  lasted  a  hundred  years,  and 
which  had  sacrificed  the  lives  of  more  men 
tnan  were  at  that  time  alive  in  the  two 
kingdoms.  He  was  to  paint  in  strong  colours 


the  evils  of  war,  both  as  to  the  temporal 
calamities  which  it  inflicts,  and  the  spiritual 
loss  of  souls,  sent  before  the  tribunal  of 
God  in  the  midst  of  their  sins ;  he  was  to 
observe  that  the  question  could  be  decided 
only  by  one  of  these  two  ways, — the  de- 
struction of  the  English  or  French  people, 
which  was  impracticable,  or  by  an  equit- 
able adjustment  of  claims,  which,  if  it 
were  to  be  adopted  at  all,  could  not  be 
adopted  too  soon.  4.  The  English  ministers 
were  to  be  marvellously  affected  by  this 
speech,  and  in  consequence  of  it  to  relax 
in  their  pretensions,  and  to  offer  to  Charles 
the  whole  of  France  beyond  the  Loire, 
with  the  exception  of  Gnienne.  Nay  :  rather 
than  incur  the  guilt  of  contributing  to  the 
evils  so  feelingly  deplored  by  tho  cardinal, 
they  were  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  satis- 
fied  with  the  faithful  accomplishment  of  the 
great  peace  of  Bretigny.  But  the  French 
envoys  were  not  to  be  blinded  by  so  flimsy 
an  artifice.  They  insisted  that  Henry 
should  cede  all  his  conquests  besides  Nor- 
mandy, and  hold  that  duchy,  with  Guienne, 
of  the  crown  of  France.  The  proposal  was 
received  as  an  insult  ;  and  the  duchess  pro- 
posed a  peace  for  a  limited  number  of  years* 
on  condition  that  Henry  should  not  take, 
during  that  time,  the  title  of  king  of  France, 
nor  Charles  make  any  claim  of  homage 
during  the  same  period.  The  ambassadors 
separated  to  receive  the  commands  of  their 
sovereigns  on  this  project.  At  the  ap- 
pointed time  the  English  returned  with 
instructions  to  refuse,  because  it  would 


A.D.  1444.  J 


TRANSACTIONS  WITH  SCOTLAND. 


Burgundy,  as  it  involved  no  great 
national  interest,  was  more  easily 
appeased.  It  had  arisen  from  resent- 
ment for  the  apostasy  of  the  duke ; 
but  England,  in  her  endeavour  to 
punish  him,  had,  by  the  interruption 
of  the  trade  with  Flanders,  inflicted 
a  severe  injury  on  herself.  In  1443  Isa- 
bella (with  her  husband  Henry  seems 
to  have  refused  to  treat)1  concluded  a 
suspension  of  hostilities  for  an  inde- 
finite period  with  the  duke  of  York.2 
In  the  next  year,  her  efforts  to  extend 
that  benefit  to  all  the  belligerents 
were  seconded  by  the  more  powerful 
influence  of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  who 
had  been  made  prisoner  at  the  battle 
of  Asincourt,  and  after  a  captivity  of 
twer  ty-four  years  had  been  permitted 
to  revisit  his  country.  Before  his 
departure  he  paid  down  forty  thou- 
sand nobles,  gave  security  for  the 
payment  of  eighty  thousand  more  in 
the  course  of  six  months,  and  bound 
himself  to  return  at  the  expiration  of 
the  year,  unless  he  should  prevail  on 
Charles  to  consent  to  a  final  peace ; 
and  Henry  on  his  part  engaged  to 
repay  him  the  money  on  the  signa- 
ture of  the  treaty,  or,  in  failure  of 
that,  on  his  return  to  captivity.3  He 
was  released  about  the  end  of  the 
year  1440;  and  instead  of  effecting 
the  purpose  of  his  mission,  found 
himself  excluded  from  the  court  by 
the  intrigues  of  the  royal  favourites. 
Henry  was  compelled  to  enlarge  the 
time  fixed  for  his  return ;  and  he  at 
length  gained  that  influence  in  the 
council  which  was  due  to  his  rank 
and  abilities.  Charles  now  listened 
to  his  suggestions  in  favour  of  peace. 
The  duke  himself  and  the  earl  of 
Suffolk  were  the  principal  negotiators; 


and  though  they  could  not  induce 
their  respective  courts  to  agree  to 
any  general  basis  of  pacification,  con- 
cluded an  armistice  for  two  years, 
during  which  it  was  hoped  that  some 
way  might  be  discovered  of  adjusting 
the  opposite  claims,  and  reconciling 
the  interests,  of  the  contending  sove- 
reigns.4 

Hitherto  the  attentions  of  the 
reader  has  been  occupied  with  the 
conduct  of  the  war  in  France;  this 
temporary  suspension  of  hostilities 
will  afford  him  leisure  to  revert  to 
the  domestic  occurrences  of  the  last 
twenty  years,  and  the  miscellaneous 
incidents  which  diversify  the  history 
of  that  period.  I.  Before  James  of 
Scotland  was  restored  to  his  throne, 
a  truce  of  seven  years  had  been  con- 
cluded between  the  two  kingdoms.5 
By  the  king  it  was  carefully  observed; 
not  that  he  retained  any  warm  at- 
tachment for  the  place  of  his  cap- 
tivity, but  that  he  wished  for  peace  in 
order  to  curb  the  factious  spirit  of 
his  nobles,  and  to  encourage  habits  of 
industry  and  subordination  among 
his  people.  Hence  his  connection 
with  England  did  not  prevent  him 
from  receiving  the  ambassadors  of  the 
French  monarch.  He  renewed  the 
ancient  league  between  the  two 
crowns,  and  agreed  to  give  the  prin- 
cess of  Scotland  in  marriage  to  the 
dauphin,  as  soon  as  the  parties  should 
have  attained  the  age  of  puberty. 
His  poverty  did  not  enable  him  to 
offer  with  his  daughter  a  portion 
becoming  her  rank ;  but  he  assented 
to  what  was  still  more  acceptable,  an 
aid  of  six  thousand  Scottish  troops, 
whenever  a  fleet  for  their  conveyance 
should  arrive  from  France.6  To 


show  in  the  king  a  lack  of  might  or  of 
right,  or  of  courage ;  but  they  had  no 
opportunity  of  delivering  their  answer  ;  for 
the  French  did  not  think  it  worth  their  while 
to  return  at  all.— See  Eym.  x.  724;  and 
Acts  of  Coun.  v.  334. 

1  Many  conferences  were  held  with  her, 
none  with  him,  as  appears  from  the  instru- 


ments iu  Kymer,  x.  713,  730,  761,  767, 
802,  &c.  2  Rym.  xi.  24.  3  Ib.  x.  820—829. 

*  Ibid.  xi.  59—67.          *  ibid.  x.  329—332. 

6  Du  Tillet,  138.  Ford,  xvi.  11.  Thresor 
des  Cbartres,  128.  By  mistake  the  date  of 
1448  has  been  substituted  for  1428  in  this 
and  the  other  articles  under  the  head  of 
"  huietiesm  piece." 


HENRY  VI. 


LCHAP.  i. 


secure  his  friendship,  Charles  made 
to  him  a  grant  of  the  county  of  Xain- 
togne,  and  the  lordship  of  Rochefort, 
which  the  king  of  Scots  condescended 
to  hold  of  the  Trench  crown,  with  an 
engagement  to  send  the  first  prince  of 
his  blood  to  perform  the  accustomed 
homage.1  These  treaties  alarmed  the 
English  government.  The  cardinal 
of  Winchester  obtained  a  personal 
interview  with  James  at  Durham  ; 
and  whether  it  were  owing  to  his 
suggestions,  or  to  the  difficulty  of 
providing  a  sufficient  number  of 
vessels,  the  stipulated  auxiliaries 
never  left  Scotland.3  James  even 
threw  out  some  hint  of  a  final  peace 
in  lieu  of  the  existing  truce,  to  be 
founded  on  a  marriage  between  Henry 
and  one  of  his  daughters.  The  council 
hastened  to  profit  by  the  suggestion, 
and  Lord  Scrope  was  authorized  to 
negotiate  a  peace  "  by  way  of  marriage 
and  other  lawful  and  honourable 
means;"  but  at  the  same  time, 
whether  it  were  through  pride  or 
policy,  he  was  instructed  not  to  make 
the  proposal  himself,  but  to  draw  it 
artfully  from  the  Scottish  commis- 
sioners. He  failed ;  made  his  report 
to  the  council  in  England  and  to  the 
king  in  Prance,  and  returned  to  Scot- 
land with  new  powers  to  conclude  a 
peace  "on  any  terms  and  in  any 
manner;"  an  alteration  which  suffi- 
ciently proved  the  great  anxiety  of 
the  English  government  to  withdraw 
James  from  his  alliance  with  Charles, 


as  long  as  that  prince  should  be  at 
war  A'ith  England.3  But  the  Scottish 
king  adhered  firmly  to  his  engage- 
ments with  France ;  and  the  utmost 
which  the  envoy  could  accomplish 
was  to  renew  the  truce  for  five  years, 
with  an  understanding  that  if  any 
Scotsmen  should  sail  to  the  assistance 
of  the  enemies  of  Henry,  they  might 
be  treated  as  enemies  themselves, 
without  any  interruption  of  the  har- 
mony between  the  two  crowns.4 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
the  French  ministry  reminded  the 
Scottish  king  of  his  engagements ; 
whilst  the  lord  Scrope,  if  we  may 
believe  the  Scottish  historians,5  of- 
fered on  the  part  of  England  the 
cession  to  Scotland  of  Berwick,  Rox- 
burgh, and  the  debateable  lands,  as 
the  price  of  a  perpetual  peace  and 
alliance.  This  proposal  divided  the 
Scottish  parliament.  During  a  debate 
of  two  days  one  party  maintained  that 
the  king  by  his  previous  treaty  with 
France  was  precluded  from  listening 
to  the  offers  of  England;  the  other, 
that  no  prince  could  conscientiously 
bind  himself  to  follow  the  dictates  of 
another  in  the  matter  of  war  and 
peace,  contrary  to  the  commands  of 
the  Gospel  and  the  interests  of  his 
people.  They  separated  without 
coming  to  any  result ;  and  both  the 
French  and  English  envoys  failed 
in  the  object  of  their  missions.6 

Two  years  later,  Sir  Robert  Ogle 
had  the  presumption  to  pass  the 


1  Du  Tillet,  ibid.  The  next  month  by  a 
new  agreement  it  was  stipulated  that  after 
the  expulsion  of  the  English  from  France, 
the  Scottish  kins,  in  lieu  of  Xaintogne  and 
Kochefort,  should  receive  either  the  duchy 
of  Berri  or  the  county  of  Evreux,  to  be  held 
on  the  same  terms.— Ibid.  Dec.  10, 1428". 

a  Bym.  x.  409,  410.  Pell  Records,  407, 
408. 

3  The  words  in  the  first  commission  are, 
"  per  medium  sponsaliorum  sive  matrimonii, 
ac  per   media    qusecumque    alia   licita    et 
honesta." — Jn  place  of  all  these,  in   the 
second  we  read,   "per  qusecumque  media 
quoque  modo."— Rot.  Scot.  ii.  269,  272. 

4  Ryin.  and  Acts  of  Coun.  iv.  19—27,  53, 
75.    Ibid.  r.  482— *38.    By  a  curious  clause 


were  excepted  from  the  truce  all  the  lands 
in  England  south  of  St.  Michael's  Mount  in 
Cornwall,  and  all  the  lands  in  Scotland, 
north  of  the  river  Forn,  between  Moray 
and  Ross  to  the  sea  (ibid.  484) ;  that  is, 
as  far  as  I  can  understand  it,  no  lands 
at  all. 

5  Major,  vi.  13.  Leslie,  2  i6.  Buchan.  ix. 
50.  Drummond  (p.  30)  adds  an  offer  of 
marriage  with  the  Scottish  princess,  but  on 
what  authority  is  unknown.  That  there  is 
no  great  improbability  in  these  statements 
appears  from  the  commissions  mentioned 
in  the  last  note  but  one ;  there  may,  how- 
ever, be  some  mistake  either  as  to  the 
exact  time,  or  to  the  name  of  the  nego- 
tiator. 6  Ford.  i?i.  23,  21. 


A.D.  1435J     MAE11TAGE  OF  THE  QUEEN  DOWAGEB. 


borders,  ar>«l  assist  a  Scottish  lord, 
who  had  taken  up  arms  against  the 
king.  He  was  defeated  at  Piperden 
by  the  earl  of  Angus.  James,  irri- 
tated by  this  breach  of  the  armistice, 
demanded  reparation  ;  but,  though 
commissioners  were  appointed  by 
Henry,  and  a  letter  was  written  by 
him  to  the  king  of  Scots  with  his 
own  hand,  the  difference  was  not 
accommodated.1  Suspicious  of  his 
intention,  the  council  ordered  a  fleet 
of  one  hundred  and  eighty  sail  to 
cruise  in  the  German  Ocean:,  and  in- 
tercept the  princess  o/  Scotland  in 
her  way  to  the  French  coast.  She 
was,  however,  more  fortunate  than 
her  father  had  been  in  similar  circum- 
stances; and  by  steering  round  the 
north  of  Scotland,  eluded  the  English 
squadron,  and  reached  the  port  of 
Eochelle.2  This  new  insult  deter- 
mined James  to  seek  revenge  with 
the  sword.  He  summoned  every 
S«ot  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and 
sixty  to  join  his  banner ;  and,  if  we 
may  believe  a  native  and  contempo- 
rary writer,  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand  men  followed  him  to  the 
siege  of  Eoxburgh.3  The  fall  of  the 
fortress  was  prevented  by  the  incon- 


stancy of  the  king,  who,  after  a  few 
days,  on  the  approach  of  the  earl  o* 
Northumberland,  disbanded  the  army 
and  hastened  to  Edinburgh.  It  were 
idle  to  enumerate  all  the  motives  tc 
which  d;fFerent  writers  have  attri- 
buted his  conduct ;  the  most  plausible 
conjecture  supposes  him  to  have  re- 
ceived a  hint  of  the  dark  and  mys- 
terious conspiracy  which  within  six 
months  deprived  him  of  life.4  He 
was  succeeded  by  his  son,  James  II,, 
who  had  only  completed  his  fifth 
year ;  and  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the 
new  reign  was  the  conclusion  of  a 
truce  with  Henry  till  the  year  1447.5 
II.  England  during  this  period, 
exhibited  the  unusual  spectacle  of 
two  princesses,  who,  despising  the 
pride  of  birth,  had  married  into  fa- 
milies of  commoners.  1.  Jacquetta 
of  Luxemburg,  after  the  death  of 
the  duke  of  Bedford,  married  Sir 
Richard  Wydeville,  an  English  gen- 
tleman, distinguished  by  the  extra- 
ordinary beauty  of  his  person.  Wyde- 
ville  was  immediately  cast  into  prison 
for  the  offence  of  marrying  a  tenant 
of  the  crown  without  the  royal 
license ;  but  obtained  his  liberty  on 
the  payment  of  a  fine  of  one  thousand 


1  Rym.  635.    Ford.  xvi.  9. 

2  Ibid.  9.  »  Ibid.  26. 

*  It  was  in  August  that  he  raised  the 
siege ;  at  Christmas  he  repaired  to  his 
favourite  residence  in  the  Dominican  con- 
vent at  Perth.  On  the  evening  of  the  20th 
of  February,  after  drinking  the  voidee,  or 
parting  cup,  with  his  company,  he  retired 
to  his  bed-chamber,  and  as  he  stood  in  his 
gown  before  the  fire,  conversing  with  the 
queen  and  her  attendants,  he  was  suddenly 
alarmed  by  the  clash  of  arms.  Aware  of 
the  danger,  he  called  to  the  ladies  to  bolt 
the  door,  while  he  should  escape  by  the 
window.  But  the  iron  bars  were  too  close 
to  admit  a  human  body  between  them ;  and 
the  king,  seizing  the  fire-tongs,  rushed  into 
an  adjoining  closet,  wrenched  up  one  of  the 
boards  from  the  floor,  and  let  himself 
through  the  aperture  into  the  privy.  The 
board  immediately  dropped  into  its  "former 
place ;  and  it  soon  appeared  that  the  noise 
proceeded  from  Sir  Robert  Graham,  who 
with  three  hundred  Highlanders,  had 
scaled  the  defences  of  tho  monastery. 


They  burst  open  the  door,  broke  the  arm 
of  Catherine  Douglas,  who  attempted  to 
exclude  them,  and  wounded  the  queen,  when 
a  voice  exclaimed,  "  For  shame  !  She  is 
but  a  woman.  Look  after  her  husband." 
Not  finding  him  in  the  bed-chamber,  they 
parted  in  separate  directions  to  search 
the  adjoining  rooms ;  and  James  seizing 
the  opportunity,  called  to  the  ladies  to 
draw  him  out.  In  the  attempt  Elizabeth 
Douglas  fell  through  the  aperture ;  and 
during  the  confusion  caused  by  this  event 
one  of  the  assassins  entered  the  closet. 
He  informed  his  associates.  Sir  John  Hall 
leaped  below,  and  was  followed  by  his  bro- 
ther ;  but  the  king,  an  athletic  man,  seized 
each  in  the  descent,  and  attempted  to 
throttle  them  on  the  floor.  Graham  sprang" 
to  their  assistance.  At  the  entreaties  and 
promises  of  James  he  began  to  waver ;  but 
his  confederates  above  terrified  him  by 
their  threats;  and  the  unarmed  monarch 
was  despatched  with  sixteen  wounds. — See 
the  contemporary  relation  of  this  tragical 
event,  published  by  Pinkerton,  vol.  i.  App. 
No.  xiii.  5  Bym.  x.  639. 


HENEr  VI. 


[CHAP.  I. 


pounds,  and  was  afterwards,  out  of 
respect  to  his  wife,  created  Baron 
Rivers.1  2.  Catherine,  a  daughter 
of  France,  the  widow  of  the  last, 
the  mother  of  the  present  sovereign 
married  Owen  ap  Tudor,  a  Welsh 
gentleman,  said  to  be  descended  from 
the  celebrated  Cadwallader.2  It  does 
not  appear  that  this  marriage  was 
ever  formally  acknowledged ;  but  it 
was  followed  by  an  act  of  parliament, 
by  which  to  marry  a  queen  dowager 
without  license  from  the  king  was 
made  an  offence  punishable  with  the 
forfeiture  of  lands  and  goods  ;3  and, 
as  soon  as  Catherine  was  dead,  Tudor 
received  a  summons  at  Daventry  to 
appear  in  person  before  the  king. 
The  safe  conduct  which  at  his  de- 
mand had  been  granted  was  after- 
wards violated.  He  escaped  from 
prison,  was  retaken,  and  escaped  a 
second  time.  With  the  real  cause  of 
this  severity  we  are  not  acquainted : 
the  act  of  parliament  had  passed 
after  his  marriage,  and  there  is  no 
mention  made  of  it  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Council ;  but  from  the  expressions 
used  there,  it  may  perhaps  be  inferred 
that  he  had  done  or  said  something 
to  raise  apprehensions,  that,  sprung, 
as  was  pretended,  from  the  ancient 
princes  of  Wales,  and  proud  of  bis 
alliance  by  marriage  with  the  royal 
families  of  England  and  France, 


1  This  offence  was  common,  and  always 
punished  with  fine,  and  often  with  impri- 
sonment also,  if  the  husband  were  of  inferior 
rank  to  the  wife.  In  the  Acts  of  the  Coun- 
cil we  meet  with  such  fines  as  1,0001.  or 
12,000  marks,  &c.— See  Acts.  iii.  130,  145, 
164,  252. 

a  The  Chronicle  of  London  asserts  the 
Tndor  was  •'  no  man  of  birthe  nother  of 
lyflod"  (p.  123);  yet  the  council  in  an 
official  instrument  gives  him  the  title  of 
"  armiger."— Rym.  x.  709.  His  sons  Ed- 
mund and  Jasper  were  -placed  under  the 
care  of  Catherine  de  la  Pole,  abbess  of 
Barking. 

5  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  such  act 
was  passed,  though  it  is  not  found  on  the 
Holla  now.  But  Sir  Harris  Nicholas  informs 
as  that  the  membrane,  on  which  it  ought 
to  be  foucd,  is  wanting,  and  that  the  num- 


Owen  ap  Tudor  might  be  tempted 
to  re-enact  the  part  of  Owen  Glen- 
dower,  and  might,  like  that  chieftain 
meet  with  willing  and  enthusiastic 
support  from  the  national  predilec- 
tions of  bis  countrymen.4  However 
that  may  have  been,  Tudor,  after 
his  second  escape,  was  suffered  to 
remain  without  molestation.  His 
sons  by  Catherine  were  acknowledged 
by  Henry  as  brothers.  Edmund  he 
created  earl  of  llichmond,  Jasper  earl 
of  Pembroke  :  Owen,  the  youngest, 
became  a  monk  in  the  abbey  of  West- 
minster. 

III.  It  was  probably  owing  to  this 
marriage,  that  Henry,  when  he  was 
only  in  his  third  year,  had  been  taken 
out  of  the  hands  of  his  mother  and 
intrusted  to  the  care  of  Dame  Alice 
Botiller,  to  whom  as  his  governess 
the  infant  monarch  was  made  to  give 
authority  by  special  warrant,  and  with 
the  advice  of  the  council,  to  chastise 
him  from  time  to  time,  in  reasonable 
wise,  as  the  case  might  require,  with- 
out being  subsequently  called  to  ac- 
count.5 From  the  tuition  of  Dame 
Alice  he  passed  in  his  seventh  year 
to  the  charge  of  the  earl  of  Warwick, 
who,  in  his  patent  of  appointment, 
was  ordered  to  look  to  the  health  and 
safety  of  the  royal  person,  to  watch 
over  the  education  of  his  pupil  in. 
morals  and  virtue,  in  literature  and 


i>ers  of  the  following  membranes  have  been 
altered. — Acts  of  Coun.  y.  xvii.  not.  2. 

4  We  meet  with  these  expressions  :  "  his 
malicious  purpos  and  ymagination ;"  the 
danger  of  "  rebellion,  murmur,  or  incon- 
venience from  hia  enlargement ;  "  "  the 
disposition  of  Walys." — Ibid.  p.  50. 

6  De  nous  resonablement  chastier  de 
:emps  en  temps  ainsi  comme  le  cas  reque- 
rera.— Ibid.  iii.  143.  This  lady  in  return  for 
ler  services  received  a  pension  for  life  of 
,  to  which  another  of  thirty  marks  was 
ifterwards  added.  I  may  observe  that  King 
Fohn  gave  pensions  of  twopence  per  day  to 
,he  nurses  of  his  children.— Rot.  Claus.  1. 
^50,  175:  but  the  nurses  of  Henry  V.,  VI., 
VII.  received  20Z.  per  annum  as  long  as  the 
king  pleased,  which  was,  in  fact,  for  life.— 
Acts  of  Coun.  iii.  Pell  Records.  384.  Ellis. 
'  ser.  i.  171. 


A.D.  1431.]  BEAUFOItT  CHEATED  APOSTOLIC  LEGATE. 


31 


the  languages,  in  manners  and  cour- 
tesy, and  in  all  the  acquirements 
which  become  a  great  king;  and  to 
chastise  his  negligence  or  disobedience 
in  such  manner  as  other  princes  of 
the  same  age  were  wont  to  be  chas- 
tised.1 But  when  Henry  had  reached 
his  eleventh  year,  Warwick  applied 
to  the  council  for  more  ample  powers. 
He  found  that  officious  persons,  to 
make  their  court  to  the  sovereign, 
had  filled  his  mind  with  notions  of 
his  own  importance,  and  that  he 
would  no  longer  submit  to  the 
punishments  which  it  was  occasion- 
ally deemed  necessary  to  inflict.  The 
earl  therefore  demanded  authority  to 
appoint  or  dismiss  the  persons  com- 
posing the  royal  household;  to  pre- 
vent any  stranger  from  speaking  with 
the  king  unless  it  were  in  presence 
of  one  of  the  four  knights  of  the  body; 
and  to  remove  him  from  place  to  place 
as  he  saw  it  necessary  for  his  health 
or  security.  He  also  required  the 
council  to  admonish  the  king  in  a 
body,  of  the  necessity  of  obedience 
to  his  preceptor,  and  to  promise 
that  they  would  stand  by  him, 
if  on  account  of  chastisement  his 
pupil  should  conceive  any  antipathy 
against  him.2  All  these  demands 
were  granted.  It  was,  however,  im- 
possible to  exclude  flatterers  from 
the  prince ;  who,  at  their  sugges- 
tion, in  his  fourteenth  year,  de- 


manded to  be  admitted  into  the 
council,  and  to  be  made  acquainted 
with  the  manner  in  which  the 
concerns  of  his  kingdom  were  con- 
ducted. This  claim  was  resisted  with 
firmness,  but  with  respect.3  Yet 
Henry,  though  he  acquiesced  for 
the  present,  three  years  afterwards 
renewed  his  demand.  To  satisfy 
him,  it  was  resolved,  that  the  par- 
don of  offences,  the  collation  of  be- 
nefices, and  all  special  graces  should 
be  reserved  to  the  king ;  that  he 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  all 
debates  of  importance  respecting  his 
crown  and  prerogatives;  and  should 
decide  in  all  matters  regarding  which 
the  council  should  be  so  far  divided 
in  opinion  that  the  majority  did  not 
exceed  two-thirds  of  the  members.4 
Thus  the  government  remained  till 
he  became  of  full  age. 

IV.  The  reader  has  already  noticed 
the  commencement  of  the  quarrel 
between  the  duke  of  Gloucester  and 
his  uncle  the  bishop  of  Winchester. 
Their  mutual  rivalry  converted  these 
near  relations  into  the  bitterest  ene- 
mies, and  gave  insensibly  an  opposite 
direction  to  their  views  of  national 
polity.  The  duke  proclaimed  himself 
the  warm  and  inexorable  advocate  of 
war ;  the  bishop  contended  with  equal 
vehemence  for  peace ;  and  as  the 
council  perpetually  oscillated  be- 
tween the  influence  of  the  one  and 


i  Eym.  x.  399.    Hot.  Parl.  iv.  411, 

a  Ibid.  433,  434.  If  we  believe  Hardyng, 
though 

"  Th'erle  Richard  in  mykell  worthy  heade 
Enformed  hym,  yet  of  hissymple  heade 
He  coulde  little  within  his  breast  con- 

ceyve, 

The  good  for  eivill  he  could  uneth  per- 
ceyve."— p.  394. 

3  The  members  of  the  council  (the  duke 
of  Gloucester  alone  was  absent)  replied, 
that,  "  God,  indeed,  had  endowed  the  king 
with  as  great  understanding  and  feeling  BS 
ever  they  saw  or  knew  in  any  prince  or  other 
person  of  his  age;  nevertheless,  to  quit 
them  truly  to  God,  to  the  king,  and  to  his 
people,  they  dare  not  take  upon  them  to 
put  him  in  conceit  or  opinion  that  he  is 


yet  endowed  with  so  great  feeling-,  know- 
ledge, and  wisdom,  the  which  must  in  great 
part  grow  of  experience,  nor  with  so  great 
foresight  and  discretion  to  depart  and 
choose  in  matters  of  great  weight  and 
difficulty,  as  is  expedient  and  behoveful 
to  him  and  his  people.  They  therefore 
think  it  would  be  perilous  and  harmful  to 
change  the  rule  and  governance  that  afore 
this  in  his  tender  age  hath  been  appointed 
for  the  good  and  surety  of  his  noble  per- 
son, and  of  this  land;  and  trust,  that  if 
any  such  motion  be  again  made  to  him, 
before  he  agree  to  it,  he  will  take  the  advice 
of  his  great  council,  or  of  his  continual 
council,  for  the  time  being;  the  which 
manner  of  his  demeaning,  it  is  trowed 
and  thought,  will  be  the  best  that  can  be 
advised,"— Ibid.  433.  *  Kym.  438,  439. 


32 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP. 


of  the  other,  the  war  was  never 
conducted  with  vigour,  and  obstacles 
were  constantly  opposed  to  the  con- 
clusion of  peace.  The  bickerings 
between  these  two  ministers  are  of 
themselves  beneath  the  notice  of 
history ;  but  they  derive  importance 
from  their  consequences,  which  were 
felt  through  the  greater  portion  of 
Henry's  reign. 

When  Beaufort,  during  the  life  of 
the  last  monarch,  visited  the  council 
of  Basil,  he  was  named  by  Martin  V. 
cardinal  and  apostolic  legate  in  Eng- 
land, Ireland,  and  Wales,  with  a  pro- 
mise that  his  creation  and  appoint- 
ment should  be  afterwards  published 
in  the  accustomed  manner.1  The 
intelligence  alarmed  the  jealousy  of 
Archbishop  Chichely.  Other  legates 
were  foreigners,  whose  stay  was  too 
short  to  create  any  permanent  preju- 
dice to  the  rights  of  the  metropolitan ; 
but  Beaufort  would  fix  his  residence 
in  England,  and  by  his  superior 
authority  suspend  or  limit  for  years 
that  jurisdiction  which  belonged  to 
the  successors  of  St.  Augustine.  On 
this  account  he  wrote  a  long  letter 
to  the  king,  who,  persuaded  by  his 
arguments,  forbade  the  bishop  of 
Winchester  to  accept  the  dignity 
•which  had  been  offered  to  him.2 
Thus  the  matter  rested,  till  the 
quarrel  arose  between  that  prelate 
and  his  nephew  of  Gloucester.  It 
has  been  already  mentioned  that 
Beaufort  condescended  to  make  him 
an  apology,  resigned  the  chancellor- 
ship, and  obtained  permission  to 
travel;  but  it  is  probable  that  by 
these  concessions  he  purchased  the 
royal  license  to  accept  the  prefer- 


J  Ang.  Sac.  i.  800. 

3  After  alluding  to  the  ambition  of 
Beaufort,  he  tells  the  king  that,  "There 
never  was  no  legate  a  latere  sent  into  no 
land,  and  specially  into  the  realm  of  Eng- 
land, without  great  and  notable  cause. 
And  they,  when  they  came,  abiden  but 
little  while ;  not  over  a  year,  and  some  a 


ments  to  which  he  had  been  named 
in  the  court  of  Rome.  He  was  soon 
afterwards  declared  cardinal  priest  of 
St.  Eusebius,  was  invested  with  the 
usual  habit  at  Calais,  received  the  hat 
at  Mechlin,  and  was  appointed  cap- 
tain-general of  the  crusaders  destined 
to  oppose  the  Bohemian  Hussites.3 
His  absence  perhaps  encouraged,  or 
his  promotion  stimulated,  the  ambi- 
tion of  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  who 
at  the  next  meeting  of  parliament 
required  of  the  lords  a  declaration 
of  the  powers  invested  in  him  as 
protector.  Whether  it  was  on  this 
or  some  other  account,  is  uncertain, 
but  the  parliament  was  soon  after- 
wards prorogued.  When  it  opened 
again,  the  duke  repeated  his  demand, 
adding,  that  he  would  not  take  his 
seat  till  it  was  answered,  and  admo- 
nishing the  house  not  to  pass  any  bill 
in  his  absence.  The  reply  must  have 
proved  most  mortifying  to  his  ambi- 
tion. They  reminded  him  that  the 
act  which  gave  to  him  the  title 
of  protector  invested  him  with  no 
authority  except  in  the  two  cases  of 
foreign  invasion  and  internal  revolt; 
"  marvelled  from  their  hearts  "  that, 
after  he  had  subscribed  this  act 
he  should  pretend  to  any  additional 
power;  declared  that  in  parliament 
he  was  no  more  than  any  other  peer ; 
and  exhorted  him  to  resume  his  seat, 
and  attend  to  the  business  of  the 
nation,  as  he  was  bound  to  do  in 
obedience  to  the  king's  writ.  The 
duke  reluctantly  acquiesced.4 

About  six  months  later  the  cardinal 
ventured  to  return  to  England ;  and 
at  his  entry  into  the  metropolis  was 
met  in  solemn  procession  by  the 


quarter  or  two  months,  as  the  needs  re- 
quired ;  and  yet  over  that  he  was  treated 
with  ere  he  came  into  the  land,  when  he 
should  have  exercise  of  his  power,  and  how 
much  should  be  put  into  execution." — See 
the  whole  letter  apud  Duck,  Vit.  Chich. 
p.  129. 

»  Ang.  Sac.  318.    Eaynald.  vi.  92,  93. 

«  Rot.  Parl.  iv.  326,  a*7. 


A.B.  U29.J  BEAUFORT  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


clergy,  the  mayor,  and  the  citizens. 
But  it  soon  appeared,  though  he  had 
been  received  with  honour,  his  new 
dignity  had  made  him  an  object  of 
suspicion.  In  the  presence  of  the 
council,  and  at  the  requisition  of  the 
king's  attorney,  he  was  compelled  to 
promise  that  he  would  abstain  in  the 
execution  of  his  office  from  every  act 
which  might  derogate  from  the  rights 
of  the  cro\vn  or  of  the  subject;1  and 
when  the  feast  of  St.  George  ap- 
proached, was  forbidden  to  attend  as 
chancellor  of  the  order  of  the  garter, 
on  the  ground  that  he  ought  to  have 
vacated  that  office,  together  with  the 
bishopric  of  Winchester,  from  the 
day  on  which  he  accepted  the  dignity 
of  cardinal.2  "When  he  remonstrated, 
the  council  replied,  that  it  was  at 
least  a  difficult  and  doubtful  question, 
which  they  dared  not  solve  during 
the  minority  of  the  king ;  and  to  this 
answer,  he  was  content  to  submit, 
that  he  might  not  by  opposition 
defeat  the  project  in  which  he  was 
now  engaged.  As  soon  as  Cunzo,  the 
papal  envoy,  had  delivered  the  letters 
of  Martin  V.  to  the  council,  the  car- 
dinal exhibited  the  bull  appointing 
him  captain- general  against  the  Hus- 
sites, and  solicited  the  royal  license  to 
publish  the  crusade,  and  to  raise  an 
army  of  five  hundred  lancers  and  five 
thousand  archers  for  the  expedition. 
Both  petitions  were  granted,  but  on 
condition  that  the  troops  should  be 
reduced  to  one- half  of  the  number 
demanded,  and  the  donations  of  the 


people  should  be  expended  in  the 
purchase  of  arms  and  provisions 
within  the  realm.3  But  soon  a 
transaction  occurred  most  disgrace- 
ful to  all  the  parties  concerned.  For 
a  bribe  of  one  thousand  marks  the 
cardinal  consented  that  the  men 
whom  he  had  raised  for  the  crusade 
should  be  led  against  the  king's 
enemies  in  France;  and  the  council, 
on  their  part,  engaged  to  indemnify 
him  to  the  pontiff  for  this  breach  of 
his  dutjr.  He  received  their  bonds; 
but  promised  to  keep  this  part  of  the 
transaction  secret,  and  not  to  apply 
for  payment  from  them  till  he  should 
fail  in  his  attempt  to  procure  it  from 
the  regency  of  France.4  When  Charles 
found  the  crusaders  arrayed  against 
himself,  he  complained  most  bitterly 
to  the  pontiff,  who  loudly  protested 
his  ignorance  of  this  fraudulent  trans- 
action, and  upbraided  the  cardinal 
with  having  injured  the  cause  of 
religion,  and  stained  the  reputation 
of  the  Holy  See.  Beaufort  attempted 
to  justify  himself  by  allegations  which 
it  is  difficult  to  believe;  that  the  orders 
of  his  sovereign  were  intimated  to  him 
in  such  terms  that  he  durst  not  dis- 
obey; and  that  the  men  themselves 
declared  to  his  face  that  they  would 
not  march  against  the  Hussites,  but 
were  determined  to  restore  the  supe- 
riority of  the  English  arms  in  France.5 
If  the  conduct  of  the  cardinal  on 
this  occasion  irritated  the  courl  of 
Rome,  it  served  to  add  to  his  popu- 
larity in  England ;  and  when  the  par- 


1  The  protest  of  Caudray,  the  king's 
attorney,  is  still  extant.  He  maintains  that 
it  is  the  right  of  the  crown,  founded  on 
special  privilege  and  prescription,  with  the 
knowledge  and  tolerance  of  the  pontiffi, 
that  no  legate  should  come  to  England  tin- 
less  at  the  petition  of  the  king ;  and  that, 
as  the  cardinal  had  come  without  being 
asked  for,  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the 
king  or  council  to  approve  of  his  entrance 
in  derogation  of  the  laws  or  rights  of  the 
kingdom,  or  to  admit  him,  as  legate  con- 
trary  to  law  and  right,  or  to  consent  that  he 
ehould  exercise  his  legation  in  opposition  to 
the  same.-- Fox,  i.  920. 
4 


2  Rym.  x.  414.    Acts  of  Coun.  iii.  321. 
s  Kym.  x.  419-423. 

*  Kym.  424—426.  I  suspect  that  the 
whole  business  was  a  fraud  from  the  very 
beginning.  The  cardinal's  petition  to  raise 
men  was  granted,  and  the  agreement  signed 
on  the  18th  of  June ;  and  yet  on  the  15th 
and  16th  of  the  same  month  orders  had  been, 
given  to  prepare  quarters  for  him  and  hia 
army  in  Kent,  and  to  provide  a  fleet  for 
their  passage  to  foreign  parts,  on  the  king's 
service— in.  obsequium  nostrum. — Id.  418. 

s  Kaynald.  vi.  73,  74. 
D 


HENKY  VI. 


[CHAP,  i 


Lament  assembled,  both  houses  seemed 
to  contend  which  should  heap  upon 
him  the  most  distinguished  honours. 
The  same  objection  which  excluded 
him  from  the  feast  of  St.  George  had 
also  excluded  him  from  the  king's 
council ;  but  the  lords  now  requested 
him,  for  the  service  of  the  king,  and 
the  benefit  of  the  nation,  to  resume 
his  seat  at  that  board,  and  to  absent 
himself  only  when  subjects  were 
debated  which  concerned  the  court  of 
Borne.1  To  this  nattering  request  he 
willingly  assented;  and  two  days 
later  the  commons,  when  they  pre- 
sented to  the  king  a  grant  of  a 
second  supply,  took  the  opportunity 
to  preface  it  with  a  panegyric  on 
the  virtues  and  services  of  the  car- 
dinal.2 

It  is  generally  believed  that  the 
duke  of  Gloucester,  finding  himself 
unable  to  exclude  his  rival  from  the 
cabinet  by  force,  undertook  to  remove 
him  by  policy.  So  much  is  certain, 
that  Beaufort,  at  the  repeated  in- 
stances of  the  council,  consented  to 
accompany  the  young  king  to  France ; 
and  that  during  his  absence  an  unge- 
nerous attempt  was  made  to  ruin  him 
for  ever.  In  a  numerous  meeting  of 
the  peers,  the  king's  attorney,  on  the 
ground  that  the  dignity  of  cardinal 
was  incompatible  with  the  possession 
of  a  bishopric,  proposed  that  he  should 
be  removed  from  the  see  of  "Win- 
chester, and  condemned  to  refund  its 
revenues  from  the  day  of  his  promo- 


tion in  the  court  of  Rome.  Glou- 
cester immediately  rose,  charged  his 
uncle  with  having  obtained  for  him- 
self and  his  diocese  a  bull  of  exemp- 
tion from  the  jurisdiction  of  Canter- 
bury, and  contended  that  by  such  act 
he  had  incurred  the  penalties  of  pre- 
munire.  But  of  this  charge  no  satis- 
factory evidence  was  produced;  and 
the  lords  after  a  long  debate  resolved, 
that  the  cardinal  should  be  heard  in 
his  own  defence,  and  in  the  interval 
the  records  should  be  searched  for 
precedents,  and  the  judges  be  required 
to  deliver  their  opinions.3  The  duke, 
however,  was  not  discouraged.  Three 
weeks  later  the  subject  was  again 
brought  forward  in  a  meeting  of  tho 
privy  council,  in  which  the  majority 
of  the  members  belonged  to  his  party; 
but  the  abbot  of  Chertsey,  the  cardi- 
nal's vicar-general,  pleaded  success- 
fully for  delay,  urging,  among  other 
reasons,  the  indecency  of  condemning 
in  his  absence  a  prelate  so  nearly 
related  to  the  king,  and  actually 
attendant  on  the  royal  person  beyond 
the  sea  at  the  request  of  the  council ; 
and  the  lord  though  to  gratify  the 
duke  they  ordered  the  sealing  of  the 
writs  of  premunire  and  attachment, 
prevailed  on  him  to  consent  that  the 
execution  should  be  suspended  till  the 
return  of  tho  king.4 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
Beaufort,  with  such  writs  hanging 
over  his  head,  would  venture  vpon 
English  ground  till  he  was  secure  of 


i  Hot.  Parl.iv.  338. 

9  Facta  prius  special!  recommendation  e 
reverendissimi  in  Christo  patris  et  domini, 
domini  Henrici,  permissione  divina  titulo 
8.  Eusebii,  presbyteri  cardinalis  de  Anglia 
vulgariter  nuncupati,  per  prolocutorem 
Buum  ulterius  declarabimt,  so. — Ibid.  p. 
837.  I  quote  the  words  of  the  record, 
because  they  have  generally  been  misun- 
derstood to  mean,  that  the  commons 
granted  a  second  subsidy  at  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  cardinal. 

*  Kym.  x.  497.  The  objections  now  made 
were  the  cause,  that  when  Eugenius  in 
1440  named  the  archbishops  of  York  and 
Rouen  cardinals,  both  these  prelates  refused 
Diet  dignity  j  and  to  relieve  them  from  all 


apprehension,  Henry  granted  them  the- 
royal  license  to  retain  their  bishoprics  toge- 
ther with  the  cardinalate,  and  the  pope 
solemnly  declared  that  it  had  not  been  his 
intention  by  introducing  them  into  tho 
sacred  college,  to  remove  them  from  theii 
churches  of  York  and  Kouen.  The  writs 
issued  on  this  occasion  show  how  difficult 
it  was  for  ecclesiastics  at  this  period  to 
secure  themselves  from  the  operation  of 
the  statutes  of  premunire. — Kym.  x.  758, 
840. 

*  For  the  knowledge  of  this  circumstance, 
and  for  some  alterations  in  the  narrative, 
I  am  indebted  to  the  researches  ef  Sir 
Harris  Nicolas— Acts  of  Coun.  iv.  Pref. 
xx  xi — xlii. 


A.D.  1431.] 


BEAUlfOllT'S  DEFENCE. 


35 


protection  from  the  enmity  of  his 
nephew.  He  accompanied  the  young 
Henry  from  liouen  to  Calais;  but 
there,  having  obtained  permission  to 
travel  to  Home,  he  took  leave  of  his 
sovereign.  His  intended  journey  was 
probably  a  pretence.  He  felt  too 
seriously  interested  in  the  proceed- 
ings against  him  in  England  to  leave 
the  coast  of  Flanders.  Two  months 
after  the  arrival  of  Henry  a  parlia- 
ment assembled,  and  a  bill  of  indem- 
nity, to  protect  him  from,  the  penalties 
of  premunire,  if  they  had  been  in- 
curred, was  brought  into  the  com- 
mons, and  met  with  no  opposition  in 
its  progress  through  either  house. 
Shortly  afterwards  he  appeared  in  his 
place,  on  a  day  when  Henry  was 
present.1  He  had  obtained,  he  said, 
the  king's  leave  to  proceed  to  Rome 
at  the  requisition  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff,  when  he  heard  that  it  was 
intended  to  charge  him  with  treason 
in  his  absence.  As  his  reputation  was 
dearer  to  him  than  any  other  treasure, 
he  had  returned  to  face  his  accuser. 
Let  him  come  forth,  whosoever  he 
might  be,  and  he  should  find  him 
ready  to  answer.  After  some  deli- 
beration between  the  duke  and  the 
lords,  it  was  replied;  that  no  one 
appeared  to  make  such  a  charge,  and 
that  the  king  held  him  to  be  a 
good  and  faithful  subject.  Beaufort 
thanked  his  sovereign  for  his  gracious 
declaration,  and  demanded  that  it 
might  be  delivered  to  him  in  writing 
under  the  king's  signature ;  not  that 
he  meant  to  plead  it  on  a  future  occa- 
sion—he scorned  to  depend  on  any 


thing  but  his  own  innocence — fcut 
that  it  might  be  publicly  known  that 
no  one  dared  to  support  such  an  accu- 
sation against  him.  His  request  was 
granted,  and  the  declaration  was 
entered  on  the  rolls.2 

A  seizure  of  jewels,  belonging  to 
the  cardinal,  had  lately  been  made  at 
Sandwich,  by  order  of  Gloucester, 
and  probably  under  the  pretence  of  a 
false  entry  at  the  custom-house  as  to 
their  description  or  value.3  Beaufort 
now  demanded  the  restoration  of  his 
property;  which  after  along  debate 
was  ordered  in  parliament  on  the  fol- 
lowing singular  condition;  that  he 
should  deposit  f>,000£.  in  the  king's 
hands;  that  Henry  within  the  six 
next  years  should  determine  whether 
the  seizure  was  just  and  legal  or  not, 
and  that  in  accordance  with  such 
determination  he  should  retain  or 
repay  the  money.  At  the  same  time 
the  cardinal  made  to  the  king  a 
loan  of  6,000/.,  in  addition  to  8,OOOZ. 
previously  advanced,  to  be  repaid 
out  of  the  first  supply  granted  by 
parliament.4 

From  this  period,  during  several 
years,  the  uncle  and  nephew,  equally 
jealous  of  each  other,  laboured  to 
strengthen  their  own  influence  by  the 
advancement  of  their  dependants. 
Gloucester  on  all  occasions  brought 
forward  Richard  duke  of  York,  in 
whom  were  now  centred  the  rights  of 
the  family  of  Clarence ;  the  cardinal 
espoused  on  all  occasions  the  interests 
of  his  nephew,  Henry  Beaufort,  earl, 
and  afterwards  duke  of  Somerset. 
The  former  continued  to  preside  in 


1  We  know  not  the  exact  order  in  which 
these  events  occurred.    On  the  Rolls  the 
act  of  indemnity  occupies  the  last  place ; 
but  in  the  exemplification  granted  at  the 
time  to  the  cardinal  it  occupies  the  first. 

2  Hot.  Parl.  iv.  390,  391.    Eym.  x.  516, 
617. 

8  That  the  seizure  was  made  by  order  of 
the  duke  appears  to  me  plain  from  the  pro- 
viso at  the  end  of  the  act ;  and  I  think  it 
probable  that  the  jewels  had  been  con- 
demntd  in  the  exchequer  under  pretence  of 


the  entry,  from  the  non  obstante  clause.— 
Eym.  x.  517. 

*  Ibid.  Two  years  later,  in  a  great  coun<^ 
cil,  the  king  at  the  request  of  the  lords 
admitted  that  he  had  no  right  in  conscience 
to  the  jewels,  and  ordered  the  6.000/.  to  be 
repaid;  on  which  the  cardinal  lent  him 
1,000  marks  towards  the  war  in  France. — 
Acts  of Coun.  ir.  238.  Notwithstanding  the 
compromise  in  parliament,  the  jewels  had 
not  been  restored ;  for  the  king  paid  tot 
them  to  the  cardinal  8.00W.,  their  estimate/ 
valie,  on  June  10, 1434.— Pell  Kecords,  424 
D  2 


IIENIIY  VI. 


[CHAP.  1. 


cester  built  his  opposition  on  the 
abilities  of  the  prisoner,  and  his 
acquaintance  with  the  policy  and 
resources  of  England.  Charles  and 
his  son,  he  observed,  were  princes  of 
slender  capacity,  guided  by  their 
ministers,  and  placed  in  opposition  to 
each  other  by  the  intrigues  of  their 
favourites;  but  were  the  duke  of 
Orleans  to  obtain  his  liberty,  he  would 
unite  the  two  parties,  assume  the 

the'patron  of  war  to  the  advocate  of  j  direction  of  the  cabinet,  and  teach 
peace.  the  English  to  condemn  their  own 

At  length  the  two  rivals  madeJAie  folly  in  supplying  the  enemy  with  so 

able   a  counsellor.1     To   lessen   the 


the  cabinet,  and  to  gratify  his  rapacity 
by  obtaining  grants  from  the  crown ; 
the  latter  annually  aided  the  govern- 
ment 'with  loans,  and  conducted  in 
person  almost  every  negotiation  with 
foreign  powers.  Though  these,  as  far 
as  regarded  peace,  had  been  hitherto 
unsuccessful,  they  served  to  augment 
his  popularity.  The  nation,  exhausted 
by  a  long  and  ruinous  contest,  natu- 
rally transferred  its  attachment  from 


grand  trial  of  their  strength.  The 
duke  of  Orleans  had  often  and  ear- 
nestly sued  to  obtain  his  liberation, 


influence  of  the  cardinal,  Gloucester 
delivered  to  the  king  a  memorial, 


promising  to  exert  all  his  influence  to  containing    the    real    or     supposed 
bend  the  French  cabinent  to  proposals  transgressions  of  that  prelate,  under 


of  peace.  The  cardinal  favoured,  the 
duke  opposed  his  petition.  The 
former  argued,  that  in  the  present 
exhausted  state  of  the  nation,  it  was 
prudent  to  employ  every  probable 
expedient  to  put  an  honourable  ter- 
mination to  the  war ;  and  that  at  all 
events  the  ransom  of  the  duke  would 
enable  the  king  to  continue  the  con- 
test for  two  years  without  any  addi- 
tional burden  to  the  people.  Glou- 


twenty  different  heads ;  but  though  it 
is  probable  that  out  of  so  great  a 
number  some  charges  may  have  been 
founded  in  fact,  the  majority  prove 
rather  the  enmity  of  the  nephew  than 
the  guilt  of  the  uncle.2  The  king 
read  the  memorial ;  but  it  seems  not 
to  have  made  on  his  mind  any  im- 
pression unfavourable  to  Beaufort. 
The  negotiation  with  the  duke  of 
Orleans  continued ;  and,  as  the  coun- 


1  Kym.  x.  765. 

2  He  accuses  him  of  ambition  in  seeking 
the  dignity  of  cardinal  after  he  had  been 
prohibited  by  the  late  king,  and  of  contempt 
of  the  royal  authority  in  receiving  the  papal 
Dulls,  retaining  his  bishopric  of  Winchester, 
and  procuring  an  exemption  from  the  au- 
thority of  the  primate,  without  the  king's 
permission.    But  if  these  offences  subjected 
him,  as  Gloucester  maintained,  to  the  penal- 
ties of  premunire,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  they  had  been  long  ago  pardoned  by 
act  of  parliament.     In  the  next  place  he 
complains  of  Beaufort's  avarice,  whose  riches 
are  too  great  to  have  been  honestly  pro- 
cured.   He  makes,  indeed,  loans  to  the  king, 
but  seldom  executes  his  engagements  with 
fidelity,  seeking  pretexts  to  appropriate  to 
himself  the  securities  which  he  obtains,  and 
defrauding   the    crown    by   means   of  his 
officers,  who  received  the  customs  in  the 
port     of    Southampton.      The    caidinal's 
eervices    in    foreign     embassies,    so    fre- 
quently applauded  by  the  parliament,  have, 
he  maintains,  produced  advantage  to  no 
one  but  the  king's  enemies.     By  the  con- 
gress at  Arras  he  furnished  the  means  of 


reconciliation  to  Charles  and  the  duke  of 
Burgundy;  and  by  the  late  negotiation 
at  Calais,  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and 
the  duke  of  Bourbon.  It  was  the  private 
interest  of  his  family  that  induced  him 
to  liberate  without  authority  the  king  of 
Scots ;  and  some  similar  motive  urges  him 
now  to  insist  so  earnestly  on  the  release  of 
the  duke  of  Orleans.  In  short  he  has  con- 
trived to  arrogate  all  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment to  himself  and  his  creature  the 
archbishop  of  York  ;  keeps  at  a  distance 
from  the  king  all  those  prelates  and  lords 
that  are  sincerely  attached  to  the  royal 
person  ;  and  has  on  all  occasions  opposed 
the  offers  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester  to  lead 
an  army  into  France  and  recover  for  Henry 
the  whole  of  his  inheritance.  See  his  me- 
morial at  length  in  Hall  (161 — 166),  who  has 
placed  it  in  the  wrong  year.  From  inter- 
nal evidence  it  appears  to  have  been  com- 
posed after  the  negotiation  at  Calais  in 
June,  1439,  and  before  the  renewal  of  that 
negotiation  in  May,  1440,  or  the  assumption 
of  the  cardinalate  by  the  archbishop  of 
York  on  4th  February,  1440.  I  conceive 
therefore  that  it  was  presented  to  the  kia* 
about  the  close  of  1439. 


A.D.  1411.] 


CHARGES  OF  NEC11OMAXCY. 


37 


cil  was  divided  in  opinion,  the  argu- 
ments on  both  sides,  according  to  the 
late  arrangement  respecting  such  cases, 
were  laid  before  Henry  in  writing. 
He  decided  in  favour  of  the  cardinal. 
Gloucester,  who  could  ill  brook  his 
defeat,  lodged  on  the  rolls  of  Chancery 
a  solemn  and  argumentative  protest 
against  the  measure;1  and,  to  give 
the  greater  publicity  to  his  disappro- 
bation, retired  to  his  barge  on  the 
river,  as  soon  as  the  mass  began,  dur- 
ing which  the  duke  of  Orleans  was  to 
swear  on  the  sacrament  that  he  would 
fulfil  his  engagements.8 

The  duke  was,  however,  destined  to 
experience  a  still  more  cruel  disgrace. 
Though,  by  his  marriage  with  his 
mistress,  he  had  legitimated  their 
union,  he  had  not  raised  her  character 
in  the  estimation  of  the  public ;  and 
the  pride,  the  avarice,  and  the  licen- 
tiousness of  Dame  Eleanor  (so  she 
was  called)  ultimately  led  to  her  ruin. 
There  have  been  in  all  ages  professors 
of  the  black  art ;  nor  is  it  so  very 
long  since  men  have  had  the  good 
sense  to  laugh  at  their  pretensions. 
One  of  the  duke's  chaplains,  Roger 
Bolingbroke,  was  accused  of  necro- 
mancy, and  exhibited  with  the  in- 
struments of  his  art  to  the  admiring 
populace  on  a  platform  before  St. 
Paul's,  "arrayed  in  marvellous  at- 
tire," bearing  in  his  right  hand  a 
sword,  and  in  his  left  a  sceptre,  and 
sitting  in  a  chair,  on  the  four  corners 
of  which  were  fixed  four  swords,  and 
on  the  points  of  the  swords  four 
images  of  copper.3  The  second  night 
afterwards  Dame  Eleanor  secretly 
withdrew  into  the  sanctuary  of  West- 
minster, a  step  which  naturally  ex- 


cited suspicion.  She  was  confronted 
with  Boliugbroke,  who  declared  that 
it  was  at  her  instigation  that  he  had 
first  applied  to  the  study  of  magic. 
From  the  inquiry  which  followed,  it 
appeared  that  Eleanor  was  a  firm 
believer  in  the  mysteries  of  the  art ; 
that,  to  secure  the  affection  of  the 
duke,  she  had  employed  love-potions 
furnished  by  Marjory  Jourdemain,the 
celebrated  witch  of  Eye ;  and  that, 
to  learn  what  would  be  her  subse- 
quent lot  (her  husband  was  presump- 
tive heir  to  the  throne),  she  had 
charged  Bolingbroke  to  discover  the 
duration  of  the  king's  life.  Soon 
afterwards  an  indictment  of  treason 
was  found  against  Bolingbroke  and 
Southwell,  a  canon  of  St.  Paul's,  as 
principals,  and  the  duchess  as  an 
accessary.  The  former  were  said,  at 
the  solicitation  of  the  latter,  to  have 
formed  an  image  of  wax,  and  to  have 
exposed  it  to  a  gentle  heat,  under  the 
persuasion  that  as  the  image  melted 
away,  the  health  of  the  king  would 
gradually  decline.  The  two  women, 
however,  were  arraigned  before  the 
ecclesiastical  court.  Jourdemain,  as 
a  relapsed  witch,  was  condemned  to 
be  burnt;  Eleanor,  out  of  twenty- 
eight  articles  brought  against  her, 
confessed  somo  and  denied  others; 
but  when  the  testimony  of  the  wit- 
nesses had  been  heard,  withdrew  her 
plea,  and  submitted  to  the  mercy  of 
the  court.  She  was  compelled,  on 
three  days  of  the  week,  to  walk  hood- 
less,  and  bearing  a  lighted  taper  in 
her  hand,  through  the  streets  of  the 
capital;  and  was  afterwards  confined 
a  prisoner  for  life,  with  an  annuity  of 
one  hundred  marks  for  her  support.4 


i  Rym.  x.  765—767. 

3  See  Fenn's  original  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  3. 

3  Clericus  famosissimus  unus  illorum  in 
toto  mundo  in  astronomia  et  arte  nigro- 
mantica.— Wil.  Wyrces.  461.  It  was  pro- 
bably on  account  of  his  learning  that  he  had 
been  admitted  into  the  duke's  family.  That 
prince  is  celebrated  by  contemporaries  as 
the  great  patron  of  learned  men.  ^Eneas 
Sylyius,  afterwards  Pope  Pius  II.,  in  a  letter 


to  Adam  Molins,  whom  he  praises  for  his 
eloquence,  says :  "  Ped  rnagnae  ob  bane 
causam  grates  clarissimp  illi  et  doctissimo 
principi  Glocestriae  duci,  qui  stadia  huma- 
nitatis  summo  studio  in  regnum  vestrura 
recepit,  qui,  sicut  mihi  rclatum  est,  poetas 
mirifice  colit,  et  oratores  magnopere  vene- 
ratur."— Ep.  64,  p.  584. 

4  See  different  payments  on  her  accounl 
in  the  Pell  Eecords,  440,  1,  8.     She  is  de 


HENEY  VI. 


[CHAP.  I. 


Southwell  died  in  the  Tower  before 
his  trial ;  two  others  obtained  their 
pardon;  but  Bolingbroke  was  con- 
victed and  executed,  acknowledging 
the  guilt  of  necromancy,  but  denying 
that  of  treason.1  Though  theduke  him- 
self does  not  appear  to  have  been  im- 
plicated in  this  ridiculous  but  tragical 
business,  he  must  have  deeply  felt  on 
account  of  the  disgrace  of  his  wife, 
and  the  notion  generally  entertained 
that  he  was  looking  forward  to  the 
succession  for  himself. 

The  character  which  the  duke  of 
Gloucester  had  attributed  to  Charles 
of  France,  belonged  with  more  justice 
to  his  own  nephew,  the  king  of  Eng- 
land. Henry  was  free  from  vice,  but 
devoid  of  capacity.  Gentle  and  inof- 
fensive, he  was  shocked  at  the  very 
shadow  of  injustice,  but,  easy  and 
unassuming,  was  always  ready  to 
adopt  the  opinion  of  his  advisers. 
He  was  now  twenty-three  years  old ; 
his  council  suggested  that  it  was  time 
he  should  marry ;  and  every  one  fore- 
saw that  the  queen,  whoever  she 
might  be,  would  possess  the  control 
over  the  weak  mind  of  her  husband. 
When  the  count  of  Armagnac  quar- 
relled with  the  king  of  France,  it  was 
thought  that  the  power  of  that  noble- 
man might  form  a  bulwark  of  defence 
to  the  province  of  Guienne;  and 
commissioners  were  appointed  to  offer 
to  his  daughter  the  hand  of  the  Eng- 
^ish  monarch.2  But  the  transaction 
lid  not  elude  the  vigilance  of  Charles, 
who  immediately  invaded  the  terri- 
tories of  the  count,  and  made  him  and 
his  family  prisoners.  Two  years  later 
the  choice  of  Henry  was  directed 
towards  Margaret,  the  daughter  of 
Re'ne',  king  of  Sicily  and  Jerusalem, 


and  duke  of  Anjou,  Maine,  and  Bar. 
In  personal  beauty  she  was  thought 
superior  to  most  women,  in  mental 
capacity  equal  to  most  men  of  the 
age.  But  it  was  not  the  charms  of 
her  person,  nor  the  powers  of  her 
mind,  that  recommended  her  to  the 
notice  of  the  king's  ministers.  She 
was  a  near  relation  to  Charles,  wh® 
had  always  treated  her  with  marked 
partiality ;  and  a  hope  was  cherished 
that  through  her  mediation  a  satis- 
factory and  permanent  peace  might 
be  established  between  the  two  king- 
doms. The  charge  of  conducting  the 
negotiation  was  intrusted  to  "William 
de  la  Pole,  earl  of  Suffolk,  and  was 
accepted  by  him  with  real  or  affected 
reluctance.  He  professed  to  believe 
himself  unequal  to  the  task.  Perhaps 
he  feared  the  subsequent  resentment 
of  Gloucester,  who  opposed  the  mea- 
sure ;  perhaps  he  felt  uneasy  under 
the  menaces  of  an  act  of  parliament, 
passed  in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.,  which 
made  it  highly  penal  in  any  man  to 
conclude  a  peace  with  Charles,  unless 
the  consent  of  the  three  estates  in 
both  realms  had  been  previously 
obtained.  To  tranquillize  his  mind  a 
singular  instrument  was  signed  by 
the  king,  and  approved  by  the  par- 
liament, which  authorized  the  earl  to 
conduct  the  treaty  to  the  best  of  his 
abilities,  and  pardoned  beforehand 
every  error  of  judgment  into  which 
he  might  fall.3  He  met  the  duke  of 
Orleans  at  Tours;  a  truce  prepara- 
tory to  a  peace  was  concluded,  and 
the  question  of  the  marriage  re- 
peatedly discussed.  On  the  part  of 
the  French  no  opposition  was  raised  • 
but  several  alarming  difficulties  sug- 
gested themselves  to  the  mind  of  the 


Bcribed  as  "  Eleanor  Cobham,  lately  called 
duchess  of  Gloucester." 

1  Wil.  Wyrcester,  460, 461.  Ellis,  2nd  ser. 
i.  107.  Stow,  379,  380.  Fabyan,  438,  439. 
Some  writers  have  attributed  the  prose- 
cution of  Dame  Eleanor  to  Beaufort's  en- 
mity to  her  husband.  But  their  assertion 


stands  on  the  slightest  foundation,  a  mere 
conjecture  of  Fox  that  it  might  be  so,  be- 
cause the  witch  lived,  according  to  Fabyan, 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Winchester,  of 
\vhich  Beaufort  was  bishop. — See  Fuller. 
174. 

2  Eym.  vi.  6—8.    Beclnngton's  Journal, 
Svo.  1828.  s  RTm.  ,i.  53. 


A.B. 

English  negotiator.  The  father  of 
the  princess,  with  all  his  sounding 
titles,  was  in  reality  a  pauper.  This 
nominal  king  of  Jerusalem  and  Sicily 
possessed  not  one  foot  of  land  in 
either  country ;  his  duchies  of  Maine 
and  Anjou  were,  and  had  long  been, 
in  the  possession  of  the  English ;  and 
his  territory  of  Bar  was  mortgaged  to 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  for  the  pay- 
ment of  his  ransom.  Suffolk  con- 
sented to  take  the  lady  without  a  mar- 
riage portion.  But,  it  was  asked, 
could  the  king  of  England  think  of 
marrying  the  daughter,  while  he  kept 
the  father  out  of  his  patrimonial 
dominions?  The  earl  felt  the  force 
of  the  objection,  but  foresaw  the 
danger  of  making  the  cession.  At 
length  he  yielded:  it  was  stipulated 
that  Maine  and  Anjou  should  be  re- 
stored ;  and  at  his  return  he  prevailed 
on  the  majority  of  the  council  to 
approve  of  his  conduct.  In  a  general 
promotion  of  the  chief  nobility  he 
was  created  marquess  of  Suffolk,  and 
measuring  back  his  steps,  was  solemnly 
contracted,  as  proxy  for  Henry,  with 
Margaret  in  the  cathedral  of  Nanci. 
Justs  and  tournaments  for  eight  days 
testified  the  joy  of  the  court ;  Charles 
attended  his  fair  kinswoman  some 
miles  from  the  city,  and  parted  from 
her  in  tears.  Her  father  accompanied 
her  to  Bar  le  Due.  She  landed  at 
Porchester,  was  married  to  Henry  at 
Tichfield,  and  crowned  with  the  usual 
ceremony  at  Westminster.1 

If  Henry  had  flattered  himself  that 
his  marriage  would  be  followed  by  a 
peace,  his  expectations  must  have 
been  grievously  disappointed.  Charles 
had  determined  to  exclude,  if  it  were 
possible,  the  English  from  the  soil  of 
Prance,  and  would  only  consent  to 


THE  KING'S  MAllIUAGE. 


1  Will.  Wyrces.  462,  463. 

2  Rot.  Parl.  v.  73. 

3  We  are  told  that  he  was  accused  in  the 
council  of  illegal  executions,  and  of  having 
unjustly  enriched  himself  at  the  expense  of 
the  crown.      From  a  singular  instrument 


short  prolongations  of  the  armistice, 
that  he  might  improve  the  first  oppor- 
tunity which  should  be  offered  by 
chance,  or  by  the  imprudence  of  the 
English  monarch.  His  hopes  were 
encouraged  by  the  disputes  in  the 
council  of  his  adversary,  whose  minis- 
ters were  too  busily  employed  in 
struggles  for  power  at  home,  to 
support  with  vigour  the  national 
interests  abroad.  The  queen  had 
already  gained  the  ascendancy  over  . 
the  easy  mind  of  her  husband;  and 
Suffolk,  the  favourite  of  them  both, 
gradually  supplanted  all  his  colleagues. 
The  cardinal,  who  had  retired  to  his 
bishopric  soon  after  the  last  dispute 
with  his  nephew,  appeared  no  more 
on  the  scene,  unless  it  were  to  relieve 
the  urgent  wants  of  the  crown  with 
advances  of  money.  Gloucester  still 
attended  the  council  occasionally ; 
but,  if  we  may  believe  the  unauthen- 
ticated  accounts  of  some  writers,  was 
chiefly  employed  in  opposing  the 
plans  and  protecting  himself  against 
the  intrigues  of  the  favourite.  We 
may,  however,  question  their  accu- 
racy. Certain  it  is  that  he  publicly 
testified  his  approbation  of  the  king's 
marriage ;  and  that  when  Suffolk  in 
parliament  detailed  he  particulars  of 
the  treaty,  and  the  commons  peti- 
tioned Henry  to  approve  the  conduct 
of  that  minister,  the  duke  on  his 
knees  seconded  their  request.2  Of 
his  conduct  from  that  period  we  are 
ignorant ;  and  our  ignorance  pre- 
vents us  from  unravelling  the  causes 
of  the  mysterious  transaction  which 
followed.  It  may  be  that  Gloucester, 
harassed  by  the  accusations  of  his 
enemies,  had  formed  a  plan  to  make 
himself  master  of  the  royal  person  ;3 
or  that  Suffolk,  to  screen  himself  from 


in  Rymer  it  appears  that  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  resign  some  possessions  in  Guienne, 
which  were  immediately  given  to  John  de 
Foix,  who  had  married  a  niece  of  Suffolk; 
both  circumstances  of  a  nature  to  irritate 
a  proud  and  ambitious  mind.— Bym.  xi.  147, 
22  Aug.  1446. 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  i. 


the  resentment  of  the  duke,  infused 
into  the  mind  of  Henry  suspicions  of 
the  loyalty  of  his  uncle.1  However  it 
were,  Henry  summoned  a  parliament 
to  meet,  not  as  usual  at  Westminster, 
but  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's.  The 
precautions  which  were  taken  excited 
surprise,  and  gave  birth  to  numerous 
conjectures.  The  knights  of  the 
shire  received  orders  to  como  in 
arms;  the  men  of  Suffolk  were 
arrayed ;  numerous  guards  were 
placed  round  the  king's  residence  ; 
and  patrols  during  the  night  watched 
all  the  roads  leading  to  the  town. 
The  duke  of  Gloucester  left  his  castle 
of  Devizes,  and  was  present  at  the 
opening  of  parliament ;  the  next  day 
he  was  arrested  in  his  lodgings  on  a 
charge  of  high  treason,  by  the  lord 
Beaumont,  constable  of  England ; 
and  seventeen  days  later  was  found 
dead  in  his  bed,  without  any  exterior 
marks  of  violence.  Reports  were 
spread  that  he  died  of  apoplexy,  or  of 
a  broken  heart ;  suspicion  whispered 


that  he  had  been  privately  murdered.2 
Several  knights  and  esquires  in  his 
service,  most  of  them  Welshmen,  had 
assembled  at  Greenwich  on  the  very 
day  of  his  arrest,  and  purposed  to 
join  him  at  Bury.  They  were,  how- 
ever, made  prisoners,  and  five  of  their 
number  were  brought  to  trial,  and 
convicted,  on  a  charge  of  having  con- 
spired to  release  DameEleanor,  to  come 
to  the  parliament  in  arms,  to  destroy 
the  king,  and  to  raise  Gloucester  to 
the  throne.3  But  the  humanity  of 
Henry  did  not  permit  them  to  suffer. 
He  had  been  much  affected  by  a 
sermon  of  Dr.  Worthington,  a  cele- 
brated preacher,  on  the  forgiveness 
of  injuries ;  and  declared  that  he 
could  not  better  prove  his  gratitude 
for  the  protection  afforded  to  him  by 
the  Almighty,  than  by  pardoninjr,  in 
obedience  to  the  Divine  command, 
the  persons  who,  so  he  believed,  had 
plotted  his  destruction.4  Dame 
Eleanor,  on  account  of  "her  former 
misgovernment  of  herself,"  was  ren- 


1  What  evidence  the  king  had  we  know 
not;  but  nothing  could  persuade  him  that 
his  uncle  was  innocent. — Whethamatede, 
367. 

*  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  he  died  a 
natural  death,  on  the  authority  of  \Vhe- 
thamstede,  abbot  of  St.  Alban's.  That 
writer,  who  had  received  many  benefits 
from  the  duke,  was  much  attached  to  his 
memory,  which  he  vindicates  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  equally  prejudiced  against  his 
enemies,  whom  he  calls  canes,  scorpiones, 
impii  susurrones  (p.  366).  And  yet,  though 
he  wrote  when  the  royal  party  was  hum- 
bled in  the  dust,  and  ne  had  of  course  no- 
thing to  fear  from  their  resentment,  he 
repeatedly  asserts  that  the  duke  fell  ill 
immediately  after  his  arrest,  and  died  of 
his  illness.  Fecit  eum  arrestari,  ponique  in 
tarn  arta  custodia,  quod  prae  tristitia  deci- 
deret  in  lectum  aegritudims,  et  infra  paucos 
dies  posterius  secederet  in  fata  (p.  365). 
Of  course  he  could  not  be  in  perfect  health 
on  the  evening  preceding  his  death,  as  we 
are  told  by  some  writers.  Again,  Whe- 
thamstede  says  :  "  This  great  warrior  and 
second  David,  prse  tristitia  mpdo  deposuit 
aoma  sua,  recessitque  ad  regionem  ilium, 
ubi  pax  est  et  tranquilla  requies  sine  inquie- 
tudine  ulla"  (p.  366)  ;  also  Hardyng,  400. 

3  Rym.  xi.  178.     Ellis,  2nd  ser.  i.  103. 

4  They  were  however,  tied  up,  instantly 


cut  down,  stripped  and  marked  for  dismem- 
berment by  the  knife  of  the  executioner. 
At  that  moment  Suffolk  announced  to  them 
the  king's  mercy.— Stowe,  386.  This  par- 
don, however,  has  been  represented,  on 
mere  conjecture,  as  an  artifice  of  Suffolk  to 
lessen  the  odium  which  he  had  incurred  by 
the  murder  of  Gloucester.  But  it  is  well 
known  that  Henry's  humanity  abhorred  the 
punishment  usually  inflicted  for  treason. 
One  day  seeingthe  quarter  of  a  person,  who 
had  been  executed,  fixed  on  the  Tower,  he 
exclaimed  :  "  Take  it  away.  It  is  a  shame 
to  use  any  Christian  so  cruelly  on  my  ac- 
count."— Blackman,  301.  In  the  present 
casa.-the  king  asserts  that  the  pardon  had 
not  been  suggested  to  him  by  any  person, 
either  layman  or  clergyman,  but  that  it 
originated  from  religious  considerations, 
principally  because  God  seemed  to  have 
taken  the  cause  into  his  own  hands,  having 
during  the  late  year  "  touched  and  stricken 
certain  of  those  who  had  been  disloyal  to 
him  ;"  supremus  judex  nonnullas  personaa 
nobis  infidelestetigit  et  percussit. — Rym.xi. 
178.  Who  were  the  persons  whom  God  had 
stricken  ?  Of  course  Gloucester  was  one  ; 
and  the  expression  is  a  proof  that  in  the 
opinion  of  Henry  he  died  a  natural  death  ; 
for  this  religious  prince  would  never  h»vo 
used  it,  if  the  duke  had  been  murdered. 
ISut  who  were  tbe  othera? 


A.D.  1447- J 


DEATH  OF  BEAUFORT. 


41 


dcred  by  act  of  parliament  incapable 
of  claiming  as  the  duke's  widow,1  and 
a  great  part  of  his  estates  was  dis- 
tributed among  the  marquess  of  Suf- 
folk, and  Suffolk's  relatives  and  adhe- 
rents.2 But  Gloucester,  though  he 
had  no  issue,  left  many  friends,  who 
laboured  to  clear  his  memory  from 
the  stain  of  treason.  In  each  suc- 
cessive parliament  they  introduced  a 
bill  declaratory  of  his  loyalty  ;  but  no 
arguments  could  subdue  the  convic- 
tion or  prejudice  of  the  king ;  the  bill 
was  repeatedly  thrown  out  by  the 
influence  of  the  crown :  and,  if  the 
attempt  at  last  succeeded,  it  was 
through  the  influence  of  the  duke  of 
York,  when  he  had  forcibly  invested 
himself  with  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment.3 

Within  six  weeks  Gloucester  was 
followed  to  the  grave  by  his  uncle  and 
former  competitor,  Cardinal  Beaufort. 
That  prelate,  since  his  retirement 
from  court,  had  resided  in  his  diocese, 
and  applied  himself  to  the  exercise  of 
his  functions.  That  he  expired  in  the 
agonies  of  despair,  is  a  fiction,  which 
we  owe  to  the  imagination  of  Shak- 
speare ;  from  an  eye-witness  we  learn 
that  during  a  lingering  illness  he 


devoted  most  of  his  time  to  religious 
exercises.4  According  to  the  provi- 
sions of  his  will,  his  wealth  was  chiefly 
distributed  in  charitable  donations; 
no  less  a  sum  than  four  thousand 
pounds  was  set  aside  for  the  relief 
of  the  indigent  prisoners  in  the  capi- 
tal; and  the  hospital  of  St.  Cross, 
in  the  vicinity  of  Winchester,  still 
exists  a  durable  monument  of  his 
munificence.5 

The  deaths  of  the  duke  and  the 
cardinal  removed  the  two  firmest 
supports  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
and  awakened  the  ambition  of 
Richard,  duke  of  York,  who  by  the 
paternal  line  was  sprung  from  Edward 
Langley,  the  youngest  son  of  Ed- 
ward III.,  and  by  the  maternal  had 
become,  after  the  death  of  the  earl  of 
March  in  1424,  the  representative  of 
Lionel,  the  third  son  of  the  same 
monarch.  But,  if  he  now  began  to 
turn  his  eyes  towards  the  throne,  he 
had  the  prudence  to  conceal  his  in- 
tentions till  the  incapacity  of  Henry, 
or  the  imprudence  of  his  ministers, 
should  offer  him  an  opportunity  of 
seizing  the  splendid  prize.  He  had 
been  appointed  regent  of  France 
during  five  years;  but  the  duke  of 


1  Eot.  Parl.  v.  135.          2  Rym.  xi.  158. 

3  Whethamstede,  367,  363. 

4  Hall  tells  us  that,  according  to  his  chap- 
lain John  Baker,  he  lamented  on  his  death- 
bed that  money  could  not  purchase  life ; 
and  that  death  should  cut  him  off  when  he 
hoped,  now  bis  nephew  Gloucester  was  gone, 
to  procure  the  papal  tiara. — Hall,  p.  152. 
It  is  not,  however,  probable  that  such  an 
idea  could  be  entertained  by  a  man  eighty 
years  of  age,  and  labouring  under  a  mortal 
disease.    Three  weeks  after  the  death  of 
the   duke,  the  cardinal  ordered  himself  to 
be  carried  into  the  great  hall  of  his  palace 
of  Wolvesey,  where  the  clergy  of  the  city 
and  the  monks  of  the  cathedral  were  assem- 
bled.   There  he  sat  or  lay,  while  a  dirge 
was  sung,  the  funeral  ceremony  performed, 
and  his  will  publicly  read.    The  next  morn- 
ing they  assembled  again  ;  a  mass  of  requiem 
was  celebrated,  and  his  will  was  again  read 
with  the  addition  of  several  codicils.     He 
then  took  leave  of  all,  and  was  carried  back 
to  his  chamber.     What  was  the  object  of 
tLia  singular  ceremony  I  kuo\v  not ;  but  it 


was  much  admired  by  the  writer,  who  was 
present  ;  and  sufficiently  disproves  the  story 
of  his  having  died  in  despair.  —  Cont.  Hist. 
Croyl.  532. 

5  His  executor  offered  the  king  a  present 
of  2,0001.  Henry  refused  it,  saying,  "  He 
was  always  a  most  kind  uncle  to  me,  while 
he  lived.  God  reward  him  !  Fulfil  his  in- 
tentions. I  will  not  take  his  money."  It  was 
bestowed  on  the  two  colleges  founded  by  the 
king  at  Eton  and  in  Cambridge.  —  Blackm. 
294.  It  should  be  remembered  that  the 
cardinal  received  no  interest  on  the  moneys 
which  he  lent  to  the  king  :  whatever  benefit 
he  could  derive  from  them,  seems  to  have 
arisen  from  the  forfeiture  of  pledges  if  not 
redeemed,  and  the  repayment  in  gold  in- 
stead of  silver  coin.  Thus  he  demands  "  that 
paiement  be  maad  in  golde  of  the  coigne  of 


were 
n 


Englond  of  juste  weignte  ;  elles  I  not  to  be 
bounde  to  delyver  ayene  the  saide  weddes 
[pledges]  though  the  seide  paiement  wer 
offrede  to  be  maad  in  silver."  The  king  i 
consequence  orders  tiie  treasurer  to  make 
repayment  "en  ore  a  uos  coustages."--Aot« 
of  Conn.  iv.  234,  248. 


42 


HENllY  VI. 


I  CRAP.  I 


Somerset,  who  sought  to  succeed  to 
the  influence  of  his  relatives,  the  late 
cardinal  and  the  duke  of  Gloucester, 
expressed  a  wish  to  possess  that  com- 
mand; and  York  was  reluctantly 
induced  to  exchange  it  for  the  govern- 
ment of  Ireland.  The  affront  sank 
deep  into  his  breast;  he  began  to 
consider  Somerset  as  a  rival,  and,  to 
prepare  himself  for  the  approaching 
contest,  sought  to  win  by  affability 
and  munificence  the  affections  of  the 
Irish. 

If  Henry  felicitated  himself  on  the 
acquisition  of  so  accomplished  and 
beautiful  a  wife,  his  dreams  of  hap- 
piness were  disturbed  by  the  mur- 
murs of  the  people.  It  was  said  that 
his  union  with  Margaret  had  been 
purchased  at  too  great  a  price ;  that 
no  minister  could  be  authorized  to 
give  away  the  inheritance  of  the 
crown ;  and  that  the  cession  of  Anjou 
and  Maine,  the  keys  of  Normandy, 
would  inevitably  draw  after  it  the  loss 
of  all  the  conquests  made  by  the  king's 
father.  At  first  these  complaints 
were  despised;  insensibly  they  grew 
louder  and  more  frequent ;  and  Suf- 
folk for  his  own  protection  demanded 
to  be  confronted  with  his  accusers  in 
presence  of  the  king  and  the  council. 
His  request  was  granted ;  the  plead- 
ings of  each  party  were  heard ;  and 
the  favourite,  as  was  to  be  expected, 
triumphed  in  the  judgment  of  Henry. 
A  proclamation  was  published,  de- 
claring Suffolk  to  have  acted  the  part 
of  a  true  and  loyal  servant,  and  im- 
posing silence  on  his  accusers  under 
the  penalty  of  losing  the  offices  which 
they  held  under  the  crown.1  Still, 
however,  obstacles  were  opposed  to  the 
cession  of  Maine  by  the  persons 
holding  grants  of  land  in  that  coun- 
try ;  and  Charles,  weary  of  the  ter- 
giversation of  the  English  govern- 
ment, resolved  to  cut  the  knot  with 
the  sword,  and  invested  the  capital  of 


the  province  with  an  army.  Henry 
was  in  no  condition  to  recommence 
the  war ;  and  the  bishop  of  Chichester 
hastened  to  the  scene  of  hostilities ; 
surrendered  the  whole  province  with 
the  exception  of  Fresnoi,  and  ob- 
tained in  return  a  truce  to  last  two 
years,  and  an  assurance  that  the 
grantees  of  the  English  crown  should 
receive  from  France  a  sum  of  money 
equal  to  ten  years'  value  of  the  lands 
which  they  had  lost.  At  the  same 
time  a  protestation  was  made,  that 
Henry  did  not  resign  his  right  to 
the  sovereignty  of  the  province,  but 
only  its  actual  possession,  on  con- 
dition that  the  revenue  might  be  en- 
joyed by  the  father  and  uncle  of  his 
queen.2 

Maine  was  soon  filled  with  French 
troops,  and  the  duke,  alarmed  at  their 
approach,  represented  to  the  council 
that  almost  every  fortress  under  his 
command  had  been  suffered  to  fall 
into  ruins ;  that  the  three  estates  of 
Normandy  had,  under  the  plea  of 
poverty,  refused  any  aid ;  and  that, 
unless  speedy  and  plentiful  assistance 
were  furnished  from  England,  the 
province  would  in  all  probability  be 
lost.3  Charles,  however,  did  not  allow 
his  adversaries  time  to  furnish  such 
assistance.  It  had  chanced  that  the 
soldiers,  who  had  withdrawn  from  the 
ceded  territory,  finding  themselves 
without  quarters  and  without  sub- 
sistence, surprised  and  pillaged  Fou- 
ge>es,  a  town  in  Bretagne.  Somerset, 
aware  of  the  consequences,  hastened 
to  disavow  the  act ;  and  Charles,  with 
equal  promptitude,  demanded  instant 
and  satisfactory  reparation.  As,  how- 
ever, such  reparation  would  have 
deprived  him  of  a  decent  pretext  for 
war  before  the  end  of  the  armistice, 
he  was  careful  to  estimate  the  damages 
at  one  million  six  hundred  thousand 
crowns,  a  sum  which  he  knew  could 
not  be  raised.  While  the  English 


Sym.  xi.  173. 


2  Ibid.  203-6. 


*  Kot.  Par].  147, 


A.D.  1449.] 


LOSS  Olf  UOtrEN. 


43 


envoys  were  offering  excuses  and 
remonstrances,  Pont  de  1'Arche,  a 
fortress  within  twelve  miles  of  Eouen, 
was  surprised  by  a  small  band  of 
adventurers,  and  a  proposal  was  made 
to  exchange  it  for  Fougeres.  This 
might  have  been  accepted;  but  the 
indemnification  of  sixteen  hundred 
thousand  crowns  was  still  demanded 
and  refused;  and  the  king  and  the 
duke  of  Jtfretagne  resolved  to  unite 
their  forces,  and  sweep  the  English 
from  the  soil  of  Trance.  The  cam- 
paign opened  with  the  surprisal  of 
Verneuil  through  the  treachery  of  a 
townsman ;  soon  afterwards  Dunois, 
commonly  called  the  bastard  of  Or- 
leans, took  the  command ;  and  within 
two  months  one-half  of  Normandy 
was  in  his  possession.  The  duke  of 
Somerset,  surrounded  with  disaffec- 
tion and  treason,  unable  to  face  the 
enemy  in  the  field,  and  forbidden  to 
hope  for  assistance  from  England, 
was  compelled  to  shut  himself  up  in 
the  capital,  and  to  behold  from  the 
walls  of  the  castle  the  fall  of  the  for- 
tresses around  him.  Encouraged  by 
his  correspondents  within  the  city, 
Dunois  approached  with  his  army; 
at  the  end  of  three  days  he  decamped, 
was  recalled  by  his  friends,  and  had 
the  satisfaction  to  see  the  walls  scaled 
by  his  men  between  two  towers,  which 
had  been  intrusted  to  the  care  of  the 
citizens.  Eouen  would  that  day  have 
been  taken,  had  not  Talbot  hastened 
with  his  banner  to  the  spot,  hurled 
the  enemy  into  the  ditch,  and  put  the 
guards  to  the  sword.  But  a  garrison 
of  twelve  hundred  men  could  not 
protect  an  extensive  and  populous 
city  against  a  powerful  army  without, 
and  a  still  more  dangerous  enemy 
within.  The  duke  with  a  guard  of 
sixty  men  was  surrounded  in  the 
street  by  more  than  eight  hundred 
armed  citizens,  who  extorted  his  assent 
to  their  proposal  of  treating  with 
Charles.  It  was  agreed  between  the 
archbishop  and  the  king  that  Eouen 


should  open  its  gsAss,  that  the  Eng- 
lish should  retire  with  all  their  effects, 
and  that  such  as  should  prefer  it 
might  remain  unmolested.  The  duke, 
however,  refused  these  terms,  and  was 
besieged  by  the  citizens  and  the 
French  troops  in  the  citadel.  After 
two  fruitless  attempts  to  obtain  the 
conditions  which  had  been  rejected, 
he  consented  to  pay  fifty-six  thousand 
francs,  to  surrender  most  of  the  for- 
tresses in  the  district  of  Caux  for 
his  ransom  and  that  of  his  compa- 
nions, and  to  deliver  Talbot  and 
several  other  knights  as  hostages  for 
the  faithful  performance  of  his  en- 
gagements.1 

At  length,  the  English  ministry 
made  a  feeble  attempt  to  succour  the 
duke,  who  had  fixed  his  head-quarters 
at  Caen;  and  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel, 
having  landed  with  three  thousand 
men,  and  drawn  about  an  equal  num- 
ber from  the  neighbouring  garrisons, 
marched  forward  to  join  that  com- 
mander. But  near  Fourmigni  he  was 
intercepted* by  the  earl  ofClermont; 
and  after  a  contest  of  three  hours,  his 
men  were  alarmed  by  the  arrival  of  a 
new  army  under  the  constable  of 
France.  Some  saved  themselves  by 
flight ;  the  rest,  after  a  bloody  resist- 
ance, were  either  slain  or  made  pri- 
soners. As  this  was  the  first  victory 
which,  for  many  years,  had  been 
gained  over  the  English  in  the  open 
field,  the  account  was  industriously 
circulated  throughout  France,  and 
was  everywhere  received  with  the 
loudest  acclamations  of  joy.  Avran- 
ches,  Bayeux,  Yalonges,  immediately 
opened  their  gates;  the  duke  was 
besieged  in  Caen ;  the  town,  after 
several  breaches  had  been  made,  sur- 
rendered; and  a  capitulation  was 
concluded  for  the  citadel,  unless  it 
were  relieved  within  a  certain  period. 
Cherbourg  alone  remained  to  the 


i  Monstrel.  iii.  721.    Hall,  163,  ]6i.    Will. 
Wyrcest.  465. 


44 


IIE^7RY  VI. 


[CHAP. 


Englisli ;  it  was  taken  after  a  short 
siege ;  and  within  the  space  of  a  year 
and  six  days,  Normandy,  with  its 
seven  bishoprics  and  one  hundred  for- 
tresses, was  entirely  recovered  by  the 
.French  monarch.1 

Charles,  however,  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  conquest  of  Normandy  ;  the 
moment  Cherbourg  surrendered,  his 
army  began  its  march  towards  Gui- 
enne.  The  inhabitants  were  by  prin- 
ciple attached  to  the  descendant  of 
their  ancient  dukes ;  but  the  absence 
of  succour,  and  the  pressure  of  imme- 
diate danger,  induced  the  most  opu- 
lent to  submit,  as  the  only  means  of 
preserving  their  honours  and  pro- 
perty. Not  a  man  was  sent  from 
England  for  the  protection  of  the 
duchy;  not  a  battle  was  fought  to 
expel  the  invaders;  not  a  governor 
defended  his  charge  against  the  enemy. 
Uniformly  each  fortress,  as  soon  as  a 
respectable  force  made  its  appearance, 
was  surrendered.  Before  Christmas 
all  the  territory  on  the  banks  of  the 
Dordogne  had  fallen  into  the  pos- 
session of  Charles ;  by  the  following 
August  the  French  banner  waved  in 
triumph,  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Garonne  to  the  very  borders  of  Spain. 
When  nothing  but  Calais  remained 
to  England,  Charles  offered  to  treat 
of  peace.  The  proposal  was  rejected 
with  an  idle  threat,  that  Henry  would 
never  sheath  his  sword  till  he  should 
have  reconquered  all  that  had  been 
lost.2 

The  public  mind  had  beeL  suffi- 
ciently exasperated  by  the  cession  of 
Maine  and  Anjou;  but  when  that 
cession  was  followed  by  the  invasion 
of  Normandy ;  when  each  messenger 
brought  fresh  accounts  of  the  rapid 
progress  of  the  enemy ;  every  tongue 
was  employed  in  bewailing  the  fallen 
glory  of  England,  and  every  place 
resounded  with  cries  of  vengeance 


on  the  head  of  the  minister.  He  was 
described  as  the  queen's  minion,  who, 
to  please  a  foreign  mistress,  did  no* 
hesitate  to  betray  his  sovereign,  and 
to  sacrifice  the  inheritance  of  the 
crown.  To  him  were  attributed  the 
release  of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  the 
death  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  the 
poverty  of  the  treasury,  and  all 
the  calamities  which  had  befallen 
the  English  arms  on  the  continent. 
In  this  state  of  public  opinion  a 
parliament  had  been  called  to  pro- 
vide for  the  defence  of  Normandy 
but  it  had  hardly  assembled,  when 
the  news  of  the  loss  of  Rouen  arrived 
to  inflame  the  discontent  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  to  multiply  the  embarrass- 
ments of  the  government.  Six  weeks 
were  spent  in  violent  but  useless 
altercation  ;  and  nothing  more  was 
concluded  before  the  holidays  than 
to  send  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel  with  a 
small  force  to  the  aid  of  the  duke  of 
Somerset.  But  during  the  recess  two 
events  occurred  which  foreboded  the 
ruin  of  Suffolk.  One  evening  Wil- 
liam Tailbois  was  discovered  lurking 
with  several  armed  men  near  the  door 
of  the  council-chamber.  It  was  in 
vain  that  the  favourite  took  him 
under  his  protection.  Tailbois  was 
committed  to  the  Tower  at  the  re- 
quisition of  the  lord  Cromwell,  the 
most  active  among  the  enemies  of  the 
minister ;  was  tried  on  a  charge  of 
plotting  the  death  of  that  nobleman, 
and  was  condemned  to  pay  him 
damages  to  the  amount  of  three 
thousand  pounds.3  Soon  afterwards 
the  bishop  of  Chichester,  keeper  of 
the  privy  seal,  proceeded  to  Ports- 
mouth to  pay  the  soldiers  and  sailors 
engaged  for  the  expedition;  but  it 
was  no  sooner  known  that  he  was 
the  man  who  had  delivered  Maine  to 
the  French  king,  than  the  populace 
rose,  and  the  prelate  lost  his  life  in 


*  Monstrel.  iii.  21-32.     Hall,  165,  166. 
Will.  Wyrcest.  489. 


2  Monstrel.  iii.  32—38.    Hall.  161.  162. 

3  W'll.  Wyrceat.  466,  467. 


A.D.  1450.]  AUEEST  AND  IMPEACHMENT  OF  SUFFOLK. 


the  tumult.1  Whether  it  was  that 
this  prelate  sought  to  divert  their 
indignation  from  himself,  or  that  the 
story  was  invented  by  the  opponents 
of  Suffolk,  he  is  said  to  have  declared 
before  his  death  that  the  favourite 
was  a  traitor,  who  had  sold  Maine  to 
the  enemy,  and  had  boasted  of  having 
as  much  influence  in  the  French  as  in 
the  English  council.  It  was  thought 
necessary  that  the  duke  (he  had  lately 
been  raised  to  that  dignity)  should 
notice  this  report ;  and  as  soon  as  the 
parliament  assembled  after  the  recess, 
rising  in  his  place,  he  besought  the 
king  to  recollect  that  his  father  had 
died  in  the  service  of  his  country  at 
Harfleur,  his  elder  brother  had  fallen 
ia  the  battle  of  Azincourt,  his  second 
and  third  brothers  had  perished  at 
Jargeau,  and  his  youngest  brother 
had  expired  a  hostage  in  France; 
that  he  himself  had  been  a  knight  of 
the  garter  thirty  years,  had  spent 
thirty-four  years  in  arms,  during 
one-half  of  which  time  he  had  never 
visited  his  native  country;  that  he 
had  been  fifteen  years  sworn  of  the 
king's  council ;  that  he  was  born  in 
England;  that  his  inheritance,  and 
the  inheritance  of  his  children  and 
posterity,  lay  in  this  country.  Was 
it  then  possible,  he  asked,  that  for 
any  promises  of  an  enemy  he  could 
become  a  traitor  ?  "  Whereupon," 
he  added,  "  I  beseech  your  highness 
in  the  most  humble  wise  I  can  be- 
think, that  if  any  man  will  charge  me 
with  the  report  aforesaid,  or  any 
other  thing  against  your  royal  person 
and  land,  he  may  come  forth,  and  say 
to  me  in  these  matters  what  he  wills ; 
and  that  in  your  presence,  my  sove- 
reign lord,  I  may  be  heard  in  my 
excusations  and  defences  reasonable, 
the  which  I  trust  shall  be  so  open  and 
§o  plain,  that  your  highness  and  your 


41 

land  shall  be  content  of  me;  for  Goi 
knoweth  I  am,  and  shall  be,  and  never 
was  other  but  true  to  you,  sovereign 
lord,  and  to  your  lands."  At  his  re- 
quest the  speech  was  entered  on  the 
rolls.2 

But  by  this  time  his  enemies  in  the 
lower  house  had  formed  themselves 
into  a  powerful  party,  which  was 
entirely,  though  secretly,  guided  by 
the  counsels  of  the  lord  Cromwell.3 
Four  days  after  the  duke  had  so 
solemnly  declared  his  innocence,  a 
deputation  from  the  commons  re- 
quested, that  since,  according  to  his 
own  confession,  he  lay  under  sus- 
picion of  treason,  he  might  be  im- 
mediately committed  to  the  Tower. 
But  the  lords,  having  consulted  the 
judges,  replied  that  they  had  no  power 
to  order  any  peer  into  confinement, 
unless  some  specific  charge  were 
brought  against  him.  Two  days 
later,  the  speaker  returned,  and  ac- 
cused him  of  having  furnished  the 
castle  of  Wallingford  with  stores  and 
provisions  for  the  purpose  of  aiding 
the  king  of  France,  who,  he  pretended, 
was  then  making  preparations  to  in- 
vade the  country.  On  this  incredible 
and  ridiculous  charge  he  was  arrested, 
and  confined  in  the  Tower.  The  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  immediately  re- 
signed the  office  of  chancellor,  which 
was  given  to  the  cardinal  archbishop 
of  York.4 

Ten  days  were  employed  in  framing 
the  bill  of  impeachment,  which,  when 
it  was  finished,  left  the  delinquency 
of  the  prisoner  more  problematical 
than  before.  Most,  indeed,  of  our 
ancient  writers,  borne  along  by  the 
torrent  of  popular  prejudice,  have 
pronounced  him  guilty;  but  the  im- 
probability or  insufficiency  of  the 
eight  articles  of  treason  alleged 
against  him  will  establish  his  inno- 


1  William  "Worcester,  467. 
a  Hot.  Parl.  v.  176. 


3  Domino  Cromwell  secrete  luboraute. 
Will.  Wyrcest.  467. 
*  Bot.  Parl.v.  172,175,177. 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  I, 


cence  in  the  mind  of  the  impartial 
reader.  The  first,  and  therefore  we 
may  suppose  the  most  important 
charge,  was,  that  he  had  plotted  to 
dethrone  the  king,  and  place  the 
crown  on  the  head  of  his  own  son, 
whom  for  that  purpose  he  intended 
to  marry  to  the  only  daughter  of  the 
late  duke  of  Somerset,  that  he  might 
be  allied  to  the  royal  family ;  and  that 
for  this  purpose  he  had  solicited  the 
aid  of  the  French  king.  Next  followed 
the  usual  charges  of  his  having  libe- 
rated the  duke  of  Orleans  against  the 
opinion  of  the  council,  and  surren- 
dered Maine  and  Anjou  without  con- 
sulting his  colleagues ;  and  the  weak- 
ness of  these  accusations  was  bolstered 
up  with  vague  assertions,  that  he 
had  betrayed  the  king's  secrets,  and 
conveyed  intelligence  to  the  king^s 
enemies.  Sensible,  however,  of  their 
inability  to  prove  these  eight  articles, 
the  commons  a  month  afterwards  sent 
to  the  lords  a  new  impeachment,  in 
which  the  duke  was  charged  with 
misprision  of  treason  under  sixteen 
heads,  by  improvident  waste  of  the 
public  money ;  by  diverting  the  sup- 
plies from  the  purposes  for  which 
they  had  been  originally  voted;  by 
advising  the  king  to  impoverish 
himself  by  unnecessary  grants ;  by 
bestowing  offices  under  the  crown  on 
suspicious  or  disloyal  persons  ;  and 
by  screening  from  the  pursuit  of 
justice  a  notorious  outlaw,  named 
William  Tailbois.  The  duke  was 
now  removed  from  his  prison  to  a 
tower  in  the  garden  of  the  palace, 
that  he  might  be  nearer  to  the  place 
of  trial.1 

On  the  day  appointed  for  his  answer 
he  was  introduced  into  the  house  of 
lords,  and  falling  on  his  knees  before 
the  king,  solemnly  declared  his  inno- 
cence. To  the  first  article  he  replied 
that  it  was  ridiculous  and  impossible, 


*  Rot.  Parl.  v.  174—182.  Will.  Wyrcest. 
468.  In  neither  of  these  impeachments  is 
there  auj  allusion  to  the  death  of  the  duko 


and  appealed  to  several  of  the  peers 
present,  who  knew  that  he  intended 
to  marry  his  son  to  a  daughter  of  the 
earl  of  Warwick.  For  the  cession  of 
Anjou  and  Maine,  if  it  were  a  crime, 
he  was  not  more  responsible  than  the 
other  lords  of  the  council,  or  the 
other  peers  of  the  parliament  j  since 
the  first  had  authorized,  the  second 
had  approved  the  measure.  The  re- 
maining charges,  he  contended,  were 
frivolous  and  vexatious,  resting  on  no 
other  proof  than  the  reports  raised 
by  his  enemies,  or  on  acts  of  the 
council,  emanating  from  many  of 
his  judges  equally  with  himself.  The 
second  impeachment  he  did  not  no- 
tice.2 

But  whatever  might  be  the  guilt  or 
innocence  of  Suffolk,  it  was  evident 
that  his  enemies  thirsted  for  his 
blood ;  nor  would  the  commons  grant 
any  supply  till  their  cry  for  vengeance 
had  been  appeased.  It  became  there- 
fore the  policy  of  the  court  to  devise 
the  means  of  satisfying  them  without 
endangering  his  life.  He  was  again 
called  before  the  king  and  lords ; 
and  the  chancellor,  observing  that  he 
had  not  claimed  the  privilege  of  the 
peerage,  asked  if  he  had  anything 
more  to  say  in  his  defence.  It  was 
his  hope,  he  replied,  that  he  had 
sufficiently  established  his  innocence; 
he  had  shown  that  the  charges  against 
him  were  false,  and  some  of  them  im- 
possible ;  he  had  denied  the  facts,  the 
times,  the  places,  and  the  conversa- 
tions ;  he  repeated  that  he  was  as 
ignorant  of  them  as  "  the  child  still 
in  the  mother's  womb,"  and  therefore 
threw  himself  without  reserve  on  the 
will  of  his  sovereign.  The  chancellor 
immediately  resumed :  "  Sir,  since  you 
do  not  put  yourself  on  your  peerage 
for  trial,  the  king  will  not  hold  you 
either  guilty  or  innocent  of  the 
treasons  with  which  you  have  been 


Gloucester,  a  pretty  plain  proof  that  there 
was  no  evidence  of  his  having  been  mur- 
dered. l  Eot.  Pail.  T.  182. 


A.D.  1450.] 


SUFFOLK'S  CAPTURE  AND  DEATH. 


47 


charged;  but  with  respect  to  the 
second  impeachment,  not  as  a  judge 
advised  by  the  lords,  but  as  one  to 
whose  control  you  have  voluntarily 
submitted,  he  commands  you  to  quit 
this  land  before  the  first  of  May,  and 
forbids  you  ever  to  £et  your  foot 
during  the  five  next  years  on  his 
dominions,  either  in  this  kingdom  or 
beyond  the  sea."  The  lords  imme- 
diately protested  by  the  mouth  of  the 
constable,  the  viscount  Beaumont, 
that  this  was  the  act  of  the  king 
alone,  and  should  form  no  precedent 
to  bar  them  or  their  heirs  of  the 
privilege  of  the  peerage.  The  parlia- 
ment was  soon  afterwards  prorogued, 
to  meet  again  in  a  month's  time  in  the 
city  of  Leicester.1 

During  these  proceedings  the  pub- 
lic mind  had  been  kept  in  a  continual 
ferment;  and,  as  soon  as  the  king's 
decision  was  published,  the  most  in- 
credible reports  were  circulated,  in- 
flammatory libels  were  affixed  to  the 
doors  of  the  churches,  and  the  life  of 
the  duke  was  openly  threatened.2  To 
intercept  him  on  his  discharge  from 
confinement  two  thousand  persons 
assembled  in  St.  Giles's ;  but  though 
they  surprised  his  servants,  the  object 
of  their  hatred  fortunately  escaped, 
and  proceeded  to  his  estates  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk.3  On  the  day  fixed 
for  his  departure  he  assembled  the 
knights  and  esquires  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  in  their  presence 
swore  on  the  sacrament  that  he  was 
innocent  of  the  crimes  with  which  he 
had  been  charged  by  his  enemies.4 
At  the  same  time  he  wrote  to  his 
son  a  most  eloquent  and  affectionate 


*  Hot.  Parl.  v.  182,  183.  If  the  king 
ordered  this  judgment  to  be  pronounced  of 
his  own  authority,  it  was  certainly  illegal : 
but  it  appears  to  have  been  in  consequence 
of  a  compromise  between  the  two  parties. 
Wyrcester  says  it  was  with  the  consent  of 
parliament  (p.  468) ;  and  the  continuator  of 
the  History  of  Croyland  hints  that  Suffolk's 
enemies  intended  to  make  away  with  him 
before  he  coiild  leave  the  realm — Insidias 
ei  ponentes  ad  tempus  (p.  525). 


letter,  laying  down  rules  for  his  con- 
duct, and  inculcating  in  the  most 
forcible  terms  the  duty  of  piety 
towards  God,  loyalty  to  the  king, 
and  obedience  to  his  mother.5  Who- 
ever has  read  this  affecting  composi- 
tion will  find  it  difficult  to  persuade 
himself  that  the  writer  could  have 
been  either  a  false  subject  or  a  bad 
man.8  He  sailed  from  Ipswich  with 
two  small  vessels,  and  sent  a  pinnace 
before  him  to  inquire  whether  he 
might  be  permitted  to  land  in  the 
harbour  of  Calais.  But  the  pinnace 
was  captured  by  a  squadron  of  men- 
of-war;  and  immediately  the  Nicholas 
of  the  Tower,  one  of  the  largest  ships 
in  the  navy,  bore  down  on  the  duke's 
vessels.  He  was  ordered  on  board, 
and  received  on  deck  by  the  captain 
with  the  ominous  salutation  of  "  Wel- 
come, traitor."  It  is  probable  that 
a  messenger  was  sent  on  shore  to 
announce  his  capture,  and  require 
instructions;  for  the  duke  remained,, 
two  nights  in  the  Nicholas,  during 
which  he  spent  much  of  his  time  in 
conversation  with  his  confessor,  wrote 
a  long  letter  to  the  king,  and  under- 
went a  mock  trial  before  the  sailors, 
by  whom  he  was  condemned  to  suffer 
death.7  On  the  second  morning  a 
small  boat  came  alongside,  in  which 
were  a  block,  a  rusty  sword,  and  an 
executioner ;  the  duke  was  lowered 
into  it ;  and  the  man,  telling  him  that 
he  should  die  like  a  knight,  at  the 
sixth  stroke  smote  off  his  head.  His 
remains  were  placed  on  the  sands  near 
Dover,  and  watched  by  the  sheriff  of 
Kent,  till  the  king  ordered  them  to 
be  delivered  to  his  widow,  by  whom 


2  Rym.  xi.  268.      3  Will.  Wyrcest.  468. 
*  Will.  Wyrcest.  469. 
s  She  was    grand-daughter  of  Chaucer 
the  poet. 

6  It  is  published  among  Fenn'3  original 
letters,  i.  33. 

7  Will.  Wycest.  469, 477.  Croyl.  cont.  625. 
Two  letters,  apud  Fenn.  i.  38—45.    It  may 
be  observed  that  there  are  many  mistakes 
in  the  remarks    of  the    editor   on 
letters. 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  i. 


they  were  interred  in  the  collegiate 
church  of  Wingfield  in  Suffolk. 

From  the  preceding  narrative  it  is 
evident  that  there  existed  a  party 
which  had  sworn  the  destruction  of 
this  unfortunate  nobleman.  Not  de- 
terred by  the  failure  of  the  prosecu- 
tion in  parliament,  nor  by  the  escape 
of  their  victim  from  St.  Giles's,  they 
even  despatched  an  armed  force  to 
assassinate  him  at  sea.  But  of  the 
leaders  of  this  party  we  know  no  more 
than  that  they  were  persons  of  the 
first  consideration  in  the  state ;  and 
of  their  immediate  motives  we  are 
entirely  ignorant.  By  some  writers 
the  murder  has  been  attributed  to 
disappointed  ambition,  which  could 
not  brook  the  ascendancy  of  the 
favourite  in  the  councils  of  his  sove- 
reign ;  by  others  to  the  policy  of  the 
duke  of  York,  who  deemed  it  neces- 
sary to  remove  so  faithful  a  minister 
before  he  should  openly  take  any 
measure  to  place  himself  on  the 
throne.  The  last  hypothesis  has  been 
thought  to  derive  confirmation  from 
the  fact,  that  some  of  the  noblemen, 
who  afterwards  espoused  his  interests, 
came  to  the  parliament  at  Leicester, 
accompanied  by  hundreds  of  armed 
men.1 

The  news  of  this  tragical  event 
plunged  the  king  and  queen  into  the 
deepest  distress:  in  a  few  days  they 
were  awakened  from  their  sorrow  by 
the  danger  which  threatened  them- 
selves. Whether  the  men  who  had 
taken  the  life  of  Suffolk  had  any 
part  in  kindling  this  flame  which 
now  burst  forth,  or  whether  it  sprung 
spontaneously  from  the  irritation  of 
the  public  mind,  it  is  difficult  to 
determine.  Intelligence  had  just 
arrived  of  the  defeat  of  Sir  Thomas 
Kyriel ;  the  commons  in  several 
counties  threatened  to  rise  and  re- 


form the  government ;  and  the  people 
of  Kent  were  goaded  to  madness  by 
repeated  rumours  of  the  signal  ven- 
geance •which  Henry  had  determined 
to  inflict  on  them  for  having  fur- 
nished the  ships  which  intercepted 
his  friend.  It  was  a  crisis  most 
favourable  to  the  views  of  artful  and 
designing  men ;  and  an  Irish  adven- 
turer, whose  real  name  was  John  Cade, 
but  who  had  assumed  that  of  Mor- 
timer, cousin  to  the  duke  of  Yo^k, 
seized  the  moment  to  unfur..  the 
standard  of  insurrection.  At  the 
head  of  twenty  thousand  men  he 
marched  to  Blackheath.  Henry  in- 
stantly dissolved  the  parliament,  and 
summoning  his  forces,  advanced  to 
London.2  Many  messages  passed 
between  the  king  and  the  feigned 
Mortimer,  who  delivered  the  wishes 
of  his  followers  in  two  papers,  en- 
titled "  The  Complaints  of  the  Com- 
mons of  Kent,"  and  "  The  Requests 
by  the  Captain  of  the  great  Assembly 
in  Kent."  The  complaints  stated 
that  the  king  purposed  to  punish  the 
men  of  Kent  for  a  murder  of  which 
they  were  not  guilty;  that  he  gave 
away  the  revenues  of  the  crown,  and 
took  for  his  own  maintenance  the  goods 
of  the  people  ;  that  he  excluded  from 
his  council  the  lords  of  his  own  blood, 
to  make  place  for  men  of  low  rank, 
who  oppressed  his  subjects ;  that  the 
sheriffs,  under- sheriffs,  and  collectors 
of  taxes,  were  guilty  of  intolerable 
extortions ;  that  in  the  election  of 
knights  of  the  shire  the  free  choice  of 
the  people  was  superseded  by  the  in- 
fluence of  the  lords ;  and  that  nume- 
rous delays  and  impediments  had 
been  introduced  to  prevent  the  speedy 
administration  of  justice.  Their  "re- 
quests" demanded  that  the  relatives 
of  the  duke  of  Suffolk  should  be 
banished  from  the  court,  and  the 


~  1  "  Upon  the  iiiith  day  of  this  monthe  the 
title  of  Deveneschire  come  hydro  wt.  iiic. 
m«a  well  by?een,  and  upon  the  morrow  after 


my  lord  of  Warrewyke  wt.  iiiic.  and  moo. 
Leycestr  the  vi.  day  of  May.'' — Fenn'8  Let- 
ters, i.  44,  40.  »  Will  Wyrcest.  469,  470. 


JL.D.  1450.] 


CONDUCT  Ol1  THE  INSURGENTS. 


dukes  of  York,  Exeter,  Buckingham, 
and  Norfolk,  with  the  earls  and 
barons,  he  employed  about  the  king's 
person ;  that  the  traitors  should  be 
punished  who  contrived  the  death  of 
the  duke  of  Gloucester,  of  the  holy 
father  the  cardinal,  of  the  duke  of 
Exeter,  and  of  the  duke  of  Warwick, 
and  who  occasioned  the  loss  of  Nor- 
mandy, Guienne,  Anjou,  and  Maine ; 
and  that  all  extortions  should  be  abo- 
lished, and  the  great  extortioners, 
Sleg,  Cromer,  Lisle,  and  Robert  Est, 
be  brought  to  justice.1 

Henry  had  levied  between  fifteen 
and  twenty  thousand  men,  with  whom 
he  marched  to  suppress  the  insur- 
gents ;  but  Cade  withdrew  before  the 
king's  arrival,  and  was  pursued  by  a 
detachment  of  royalists  under  Sir 
Humphrey  Stafford.  At  Sevenoaks 
he  turned  on  his  pursuers,  put  them 
to  flight,  killed  their  commander,  and 
arrayed  himself  in  the  knight's 
armour.  When  the  news  was 
brought  to  Blackheatb,  the  royalists 
began  to  waver.;  the  requests  of  the 
Kentish  men  they  now  thought 
reasonable;  and  it  was  asked  why 
they  should  fight  against  their  own 
countrymen,  who  had  taken  up  arms 
in  defence  of  the  national  liberties. 
At  the  persuasion  of  the  lords,  who 
distrusted,  or  pretended  to  distrust, 
the  fidelity  of  their  followers,  Henry 
sent  to  the  Tower  his  chamberlain 
the  lord  Say,  one  of  the  most  ob- 
noxious ministers,  disbanded  his 
forces,  and  retired  to  the  castle  of 
Kenilworth.  Lord  Scales,  with  a 
thousand  men,  undertook  the  de- 
fence of  the  Tower;  Cade  resumed 
his  former  position  on  Blackheath, 
and  two  days  later  took  possession  j>f 
South  wark.2 


The  mayor  had  summoned  a  com- 
mon council,  in  which,  after  a  long 
debate,  it  was  resolved  to  offer  no 
resistance ;  and  in  the  afternoon 
Cade  entered  in  martial  array,  cutting 
with  his  sword  the  ropes  of  the  draw- 
bridge as  he  passed.  He  preserved 
the  strictest  discipline  among  his 
followers,  and  in  the  evening,  to 
prevent  disorder,  led  them  back  into 
the  Borough.  He  acted  in  the  same 
manner  the  next  day ;  but  compelled 
the  mayor  and  judges  to  sit  in  the 
Guildhall ;  and  having,  by  some  means 
which  are  not  mentioned,  got  pos- 
session of  Lord  Say,  arraigned  him 
before  them.  Bills  of  indictment 
were  immediately  found  against  the 
prisoner,  the  duchess  of  Suffolk,  the 
bishop  of  Salisbury,  Thomas  Daniel, 
and  several  others,  who  in  the  parlia- 
ment at  Leicester  had  been  pointed 
out  as  the  accomplices  of  the  lato 
minister.  Fortunately  the  rest  were 
absent ;  Lord  Say  pleaded  the  privi- 
lege of  the  peerage,  but  was  hurried 
to  the  standard  in  Cheapside,  and 
immediately  beheaded.  His  son-in- 
law,  Cromer,  sheriff  of  Kent,  was 
soon  afterwards  discovered,  and  un- 
derwent the  same  fate.3 

On  the  third  day  a  few  houses  were 
pillaged ;  and  the  citizens  fearing  the 
same  violence  on  the  next  morning, 
determined  with  the  assistance  of 
Lord  Scales  to  defend  the  bridge  and 
exclude  the  insurgents.  Cade  re- 
ceived intelligence  of  their  design, 
and  a  bloody  conflict  ensued  during 
the  night;  sometimes  the  citizens, 
sometimes  the  men  of  Kent  prevailed ; 
but  at  the  end  of  six  hours,  the  royal- 
ists were  in  possession  of  the  bridge 
and  a  short  truce  was  taken  b1 
mutual  consent.  The  archbishops  o. 


1  See  both  these  instruments  in  Stowe, 
888—390. 

»  Will.  Wyrcest.  470.    Fab.  449,  450. 

3  Will.  Wyrceet.  471.  Fab.  451.  But  the 
bishop  of  Salisbury  had  suffered  already. 
He  had  beep  pointed  out  to  public  resent- 

4 


ment  by  the  commons  at  Leicester,  and  oa 
the  29th  of  June  was  seized  by  his  owo 
tenants  at  Eddington,  just  as  he  had  finished 
mass,  was  dragged  out  of  the  church  in  his 
vestments,  and  carried  to  an  eminence, 
where  one  of  them  clove  his  skull  with  *•" 
bill.  Fab.  443,  453.  Stowe,  392. 


60 

Canterbury  and  York,  who  were  in 
the  Tower,  deemed  this  a  favour- 
able moment  to  divide  the  insurgents ; 
and  the  bishop  of  Winchester,  cross- 
ing the  river,  carried  with  him  par- 
dons under  the  great  seal  for  all  who 
should  immediately  return  to  their 
own  homes.1  The  offer,  after  some 
demur,  was  gratefully  accepted,  and 
the  army  immediately  dispersed. 
Cade,  however,  repenting  of  his  cre- 
dulity, again  unfurled  his  banner, 
and  found  men  prepared  to  rejoin  it. 
But  their  number  was  too  small  to 
attack  the  city ;  they  retired  from 
Southwark  through  Deptford  to 
Rochester,  and  there  quarrelled 
among  themselves  respecting  the  par- 
tition of  their  plunder.  The  captain 
in  despair  mounted  his  horse,  and 
fled  in  the  direction  of  Lewes,  but 
was  hotly  pursued  by  Iden,  the 
sheriff  of  Kent,  and  taken  and  be- 
headed in  a  garden  at  Heyfield.3  The 
chief  of  his  followers  were  afterwards 
executed ;  of  whom  some,  if  we  may 
believe  a  subsequent  act  of  attainder 
against  the  duke  of  York,  confessed 
on  the  scaffold  that  it  had  been  their 
intention  to  place  that  prince  on  the 
throne.3 

During  his  absence  the  interests  of 
the  duke  had  been  intrusted  to  the 
care  of  his  frends ;  now  it  was  deemed 
time  that  he  should  appear  on  the 
scene  in  person.  Leaving  his  govern- 


VI. 


[CHAP.  i. 


ment  of  Ireland  without  permission, 
he  landed  in  England,  and  to  the 
terror  of  the  court,  hastened  to- 
wards London  with  a  retinue  of  four 
thousand  men.  On  his  road  through 
Northamptonshire  he  sent  for  William 
Tresham,  the  speaker  of  the  late 
house  of  commons,  a  partisan  who 
had  distinguished  himself  by  his  zeal 
in  the  prosecution  of  Suffolk  ;  but 
Tresham  had  hardly  left  his  own 
home  when  he  was  intercepted  and 
murdered  by  a  party  of  armed  men 
belonging  to  the  lord  Grey  of  Ruthyn, 
probably  in  revenge  for  the  part 
which  he  had  acted  in  procuring  the 
death  of  the  late  minister.  York 
pursued  his  journey,  was  introduced 
to  Henry,  behaved  with  insolence  in 
his  presence,  extorted  a  promise  that 
he  would  summon  a  parliament,  and 
in  the  interval  before  its  meeting 
retired  to  his  castle  of  Fotheringay.* 
He  was  scarcely  gone,  when  the  duke 
of  Somerset  returned  from  France. 
The  king  and  queen  hailed  his  arrival 
as  a  blessing.  He  was  the  nearest  of 
kin  to  Henry,5  and  it  was  hoped  that 
his  fidelity  and  services  would  prove 
a  counterpoise  to  the  ambition  of 
Richard.  But  unfortunately  he  came 
from  the  loss  of  Normandy,  and  in 
the  opinion  of  the  people  was  already 
numbered  among  those  who  were 
supposed  to  have  sold  to  the.  enemy 
the  inheritance  of  the  crown.6 


1  Will.  Wyrcest.  470.    Fenn's  Letters,  60.    Fab.  452,  453. 

2  That  Cade  accepted  the  pardon,  but  afterwards  repented  of  it,  is  stated  in  the  pro- 
clamation against  him,  dated  July  10. — Apud  Stowe,  p.  391.    Hence  in  his  attainder  no 
mention  is  made  of  any  act  of  treason  committed  by  him  before  the  8th  of  July. — Rot. 
Parl.  v.  224.    Iden  conveyed  the  dead  body  to  London  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  king 
and  council,  and  claimed  the  reward  of  1,000  marks  for  himself  and  his  companions, 
according  to  the  promise  in  the  king's  proclamation. — Rym.  xi.  275.    Pell  Records,  467. 

*  Rot.  Parl.  v.  346. 

4  Unto  youre  presence,  »nd  there  bette  down  the  speres  and  walles  in  your  chamber, 
&e.— Ibid. 

5  John  of  Ghent,  duke  of  Lancaster. 

John  Beaufort,  earl  of  Somerset. 


Henry, 
earl  of  Somerset, 

died  young. 
»  WiU.  Wyrcest.  473.    Rot.  Parl.  v.  211. 


John, 


duke  of  Somerset, 
died  1444. 


Edmund, 
duke  of  Somerset. 


A.D.  1450.  J 


DISPUTES  IN 


The  session  of  parliament  was  un- 
quiet and  stormy.  The  rival  leaders 
boldly  opposed  each  other;  and 
though  the  life  of  Somerset  was 
threatened,  though  his  treasures  were 
pillaged  by  the  populace,  his  oppo- 
nents could  not  obtain  any  decided 
advantage.  Young,  one  of  the  mem- 
,  bers  for  Bristol,  moved  that  as  Henry 
was  without  children,  the  duke  of 
York  should  be  declared  heir-appa- 
rent ;  but  the  motion  met  with  very 
feeble  support,  and  the  mover  was 
afterwards  committed  to  the  Tower.1 
A  bill  was  carried  through  the  lower 
house  to  attaint  the  memory  of  the 
duke  of  Suffolk,  and  another  to  re- 
move from  the  court  the  duke  of 
Somerset,  and  the  duchess  of  Suffolk, 
and  most  of  the  king's  friends;  but 
Henry  refused  his  assent  to  the  first,a 
and  replied  to  the  other,  that  he 
could  not  dispense  with  the  services 
of  the  lords,  and  a  few  others  who 
had  for  years  been  near  his  person, 
but  would  order  the  rest  to  absent 
themselves  for  twelve  months,  during 
which  their  conduct  might  be  in- 
vestigated, if  any  charge  could  be 


made  against  them.3  At  the  same 
time  the  duchess  of  Suffolk,  and  the 
persons  indicted  of  treason  at  the 
Guildhall  during  the  insurrection, 
demanded  to  be  brought  to  trial,  and 
were  instantly  acquitted.4 

During  the  parliament  the  duke  of 
York  held  frequent  consultations  with 
his  friends ;  the  result  of  which  was 
a  determination  to  appeal  to  the 
sword  on  the  first  favourable  occa- 
sion.5 For  several  months  the  nation 
was  agitated  by  quarrels  between  the 
adherents  of  the  two  parties,  by  acts 
of  violence  and  bloodshed,  and  by 
fruitless  attempts  to  effect  a  recon- 
ciliation.6 At  length  the  duke  re- 
paired to  the  castle  of  Ludlow ;  and 
while,  under  the  pretext  of  opposing 
the  pernicious  projects  of  the  duke  of 
Somerset,  he  raised  the  tenants  of  the 
house  of  Mortimer  in  the  marches 
of  Wales,  published  a  proclamation 
containing  strong  professions  of 
loyalty,  and  offered  to  swear  fealty 
to  Henry  on  the  sacrament  before 
the  bishop  of  Hereford  and  the  earl 
of  Shrewsbury.  The  king  at  the 
head  of  an  army  immediately  marched 


1  Will.  Wyrcest.  475. 

2  In  this  bill  was  adopted  the  language 
of  the  Kentish  insurgents  ;  that  Suffolk  had 
been  the  cause  of  the  arrest  and  death  of 
the  duke  of  Gloucester ;  and  of  "  abridging 
the  days  of  other  princes  cf  the  blood." — 
Kot.  Parl.  v.  226.  Yet  while  he  was  alive,  they 
never  ventured  to  produce  these  charges  ; 
an  omission  which,  considering  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, is  a  proof  of  Suffolk's  innocence. 
The  other  princes  mentioned  in  Cade's  me- 
morial were,  the  duke  of  Warwick,  who  was 
descended  from  Edmund  Langley  duke  of 
York,  and  died  llth  June,  1445 ;  Cardinal 
Beaufort,  who  died  April  llth,  14-17  ;  and 
Holand  duke  of  Exeter,  who  had  married 
the  grand-daughter  of  the  duke  of  Glouces- 
ter, and  died  5th  of  August,  1447. 

s  Hot.  Parl.  v.  216. 

4  The  duchess  was  tried  before  the  peers, 
according  to   an  act  passed  in  1442  (Rot. 
Parl.  v.  56) ;  the  rest  before  the  judges.— 
Will.    Wyrcest.    475.      The    murderers    of 
Tresham  were  outlawed.— Eot.  Parl.  211. 

5  He   had  married  Cecily,   daughter    of 
Nevil,  earl  of  Westmoreland,   and  grand- 
daughter of  John  of  Ghent.     This  marriage 
secured  to  him  the  services  of  the  earl  of 
Salisbury,  and  the  lords  Falconberg,  Ber- 


gavenny,  and  Latimer,  the  brothers  of  his 
wife.  He  was  also  supported  by  the  duke 
of  Norfolk,  the  earl  of  Devon,  and  the  lords 
Cromwell  and  Cobham. 

6  I  have  omitted  in  the  text  the  three 
principal  events  of  the  year,  as,  in  our 
ignorance  of  their  causes,  it  is  difficult  to 
connect  them  together.  1.  In  the  spring 
the  earl  of  Devon  besieged  the  castlo  of 
Taunton,  held  by  the  lord  Bonville,  a 
royalist.  The  duke  of  York  joined  the  earl, 
and  Bonville  surrendered. — Wyrcest.  475. 

2.  In  August,  Thomas  If  evil,  son  of  the  earl 
of  Salisbury,  married  a  niece  of  Lord  Crom- 
well.    In   returning   from   the    marriage, 
Percy  lord  Egremont  quarrelled  with  the 
earl  of  Salisbury  near  York.    It  was,  says 
the    writer,     the    commencement   of    the 
greatest  calamities  to  England. — Id.  p.  476. 

3.  A  great  council  was  held  at  Coventry. 
Several  men  were  killed  in  an  affray  between 
the  servants  of  Somerset  and  the  armed 
townsmen.    It  was  proposed  to  arrest  the 
duke  of  York.    The  duke  of  Buckingham, 
a   stanch   loyalist,    prevented   it.    It  was 
agreed  that  all  differences  should  be  left  to 
the  decision  of  the  peers. — Id.  476.    Fenn'a 
Letters,  i.  26.    The  editor  appears  to  me  to 
have  affixed  to  this  letter  a  wrong  date. 

£2 


52 


HENRY  VI. 


I  CFAP.  I. 


against  him ;  but  York,  avoiding  the 
direction  of  the  royalists,  advanced  to 
London  by  a  different  road,  and  find- 
ing the  gates  shut  against  him,  pro 
ceeded  as  far  as  Dartford,  in  the  hope 
of  alluring  to  his  standard  the  men 
of  Kent.  Henry  followed  him,  and 
from  Blackheath  sent  the  bishops  of 
Winchester  and  Ely  to  demand  an 
explanation  of  his  conduct.  The 
duke's  answer  began  with  the  usual 
protestation  of  his  loyalty;  he  then 
complained  that  both  before  his  de- 
parture to  Ireland,  and  since  his 
return  to  England,  attempts  had  been 
made  to  arrest  him  for  treason  ;  and 
concluded  with  asserting  that  he  was 
come  to  vindicate  his  innocence,  and 
set  the  question  at  rest  for  ever.  The 
king  in  reply  reminded  him,  that 
since  he  had  unlawfully  slain  the 
bishop  of  Chichester,1  his  adherents 
had  openly  boasted  of  his  pretended 
claim  to  the  succession,  whence  it 
was  not  surprising  if  the  advisers  of 
the  crown  should  occasionally  adopt 
measures  of  precaution ;  but  added, 
that  to  set  his  mind  at  ease  on  that 
subject,  he  still  held  him  to  be  a  true 
and  faithful  subject,  and  his  own  well- 
beloved  cousin.  York  now  demanded 
that  all  persons  "noised  or  indicted 
of  treason"  should  be  apprehended 
and  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  till  they 
could  be  brought  to  trial ;  and  the 
king  replied  that  a  new  council  should 
be  appointed,  in  which  Tie  should  be 
included,  and  that  all  matters  in  de- 
bate should  be  decided  by  the  majority 
of  that  council.2  To  satisfy  him,  how- 
ever, he  ordered  the  duke  of  Somerset 
into  custody;  on  which  York  dis- 
banded his  army,  and  submitted  to 
visit  Henry  in  his  tent  unarmed  and 
bareheaded.  There  the  two  rivals 
met;  the  charge  of  treason  was  re- 
torted from  one  to  the  other ;  and 


York,  the  moment  he  left  the  king, 
was  arrested.  Had  the  advice  of 
Somerset  been  followed,  he  would 
have  been  brought  to  his  trial,  or 
terrified  into  a  confession,  and  exe- 
cuted. But  Henry  recoiled  from  the 
idea  of  shedding  the  blood  of  a  rela- 
tion ;  the  report  that  the  earl  of 
March  was  advancing  with  an  army 
to  liberate  his  father,  intimidated  the 
council,  and  an  offer  of  his  liberty 
was  made  to  him  on  condition  that 
he  would  again  swear  fealty  to  the  king. 
He  took  the  oath  on  the  sacrament 
in  St.  Paul's  before  the  lords  and  a 
numerous  audience,  and  was  per- 
mitted to  retire  to  his  castlo  at  Wig- 
more.3 

At  this  moment,  when  Henry  was 
relieved  from  all  apprehension  of  a 
contest  for  the  throne,  arrived  a 
deputation  from  the  inhabitants  of 
Guienne;  who,  impatient  under  the 
load  of  taxation  imposed  upon  them 
by  their  new  sovereign,  offered  to 
renew  their  allegiance,  and  solicited 
the  aid  of  an  English  army.  The 
invitation  was  accepted  with  eager- 
ness, and  the  command  given  to 
Talbot,  the  veteran  earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, who  had  reached  his  eightieth 
year.  With  four  thousand  men  he 
sailed  to  Guienne;  his  son,  Lord 
Lisle,  brought  him  a  reinforcement 
of  an  equal  number ;  and  before 
winter  Bordeaux,  with  the  whole  of 
the  Bordelais,  and  Chatillon  in  Peri- 
gord,  had  submitted.  The  next  spring 
he  opened  the  campaign  with  the  cap- 
ture of  the  town  of  Fronsac;  but  there 
the  tide  of  victory  turned ;  the  French 
marshals,  Loheac  and  Jalagnes,  ad- 
vanced with  twenty-two  thousand 
men ;  and  the  count  of  Penthievre  in- 
vested the  important  fortress  of  Cha- 
tillon.  Talbot  hastened  to  its  relief; 
early  in  the  morning  he  surprised 


1  The  murder  of  the  bishop  at  Ports- 
mouth was  attributed  to  the  emissaries  of 
the  duke. 

*  These  instruments  have  been  preserved 


by  Stowe,    393—395.    The  last  is    also  ia 
Fenn.  i.  65. 

See  the  oath  in  Stowe,  395  ;  Whetham. 
stede,  319,  and  Hot.  Parl.  v.  346. 


A.D.  1453.] 


ILLNESS  OF  THE  KING. 


53 


and  defeated  a  numerous  body  of  the 
enemy  ;  but  the  fugitives  gave  the 
alarm,  and  the  French  retired  into 
an  intrenched  camp  lined  with  three 
hundred  pieces  of  cannon.1  Talbot, 
yielding  to  the  ardour  of  his  followers, 
ordered  an  assault ;  and  his  opponents 
were  seen  to  waver,  when  the  count 
of  Penthievre,  arriving  with  a  new 
body  of  men,  determined  the  fate  of 
the  battle.  The  English  commander, 
who  had  his  horse  killed  under  him, 
and  his  leg  broken,  was  slain  as  he 
lay  on  the  field,  with  a  bayonet ;  his 
son,  though  repeatedly  urged  to  retire, 
fell  in  attempting  to  rescue  his  father; 
and  the  army,  after  the  death  of  its 
leader,  dispersed  in  every  direction. 
A  thousand  men,  who  had  fought 
their  way  into  the  fortress,  were  made 
prisoners. 

From  Chatillon  Charles,  who  now 
took  the  command,  pursued  his  vic- 
torious career  till  he  reached  the 
gates  of  Bordeaux.  That  city  was 
obstinately  defended  by  six  thousand 
armed  citizens,  and  four  tho'usand 
English ;  but  famine  compelled  them 
to  surrender  after  a  siege  of  seven 
weeks,  on  condition  that  the  English 
should  retire  with  all  their  property, 
and  the  natives,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, should  be  received  under  the 
protection  of  the  conqueror.  From 
that  moment  Guienne  was  incorpo- 
rated with  the  dominions  of  the 
French  monarch.2 

"While  the  nation  was  intoxicated 
with  joy  caused  by  the  first  success  of 
Talbot,  Henry  summoned  a  parlia- 


ment, which,  besides  liberal  supplies 
of  money,  voted  an  army  of  twenty 
thousand  archers,  to  be  raised  and 
paid  at  the  expense  of  the  several 
counties.3  It  had  been  intended  that 
the  king  should  put  himself  at  tho 
head  of  this  force ;  but  the  design 
was  at  first  postponed,  and  ultimately 
abandoned,  on  account  of  the  declin- 
ing state  of  his  health.  If  that  cir- 
cumstance raised,  another  occurred 
to  lower,  the  hopes  of  the  Yorkists. 
In  autumn  the  queen  was  delivered 
of  a  son,  whom  she  called  Edward. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  king's  enemies 
attempted  to  throw  doubts  on  the 
legitimacy  of  the  young  prince. 
Their  suspicions  were  silenced  by  the 
concurrent  voice  of  the  nation  ;  and 
the  prospect  of  an  undisputed  succes- 
ion  was  hailed  with  joy  by  the  friends 
of  tranquillity.4 

Unfortunately,  however,  Henry  by 
this  time  had  sunk  into  a  state  of  men- 
tal, as  well  as  bodily  incapacity.5  His 
melancholy  situation,  which  could  not 
be  concealed,  rendered  it  necessary  tr 
prorogue  the  parliament,  and  recalled 
the  duke  of  York  into  the  cabinet. 
He  soon  gained  the  ascendancy  over 
his  rival,  and  Somerset  was  committed 
to  the  Tower.6  When  the  parliament 
re-assembled,  he  opened  the  session  in 
the  king's  name,  with  the  title  of  his 
lieutenant.  The  commons  had  al- 
ready shown  themselves  steadfastly 
attached  to  the  royal  cause ;  but  the 
duke  had  contrived  to  throw  into 
prison  their  speaker,  Thomas  Thorpe, 
one  of  the  barons  of  the  Exchequer. 


1  Jineas   Sylv.  Oper.   p.  441.     He   say  a 
these  bombards  had  been  brought  on  car- 
riages, and  discharged  three  hundred  stones 
into  the  midst  of  the  English. 

2  Monstrel.    iii.  41—59.      Hall,  165,  166. 
.35neas  Sylv.  ibid. 

3  Rot.  Parl.  230-233.     On  what  principle 
the  different  proportions  were  fixed  is   not 
mentioned  ;  if  on  that  of  population,  it  will 
follow  that   Norfolk   contained  more  inha- 
bitants than  any  other  county.     It  furnished 
1,012  men  ;  the  next  in  number  were,  Lin- 
coln 910,  York  713,  Kent  575,  and  Wilts 478. 
f  he  cities  and  towns,  which  were  counties 


at  the  same  time,  were  rated  as  follows : 
London  1,137,  York  152,  Norwich  121,  Bris- 
tol 86,  Coventry  76,  Newcastle  53,  Hull  60, 
Southampton  and  Lincoln  44,  and  Notting- 
ham 30.— Ibid.  *  Fab.  456. 

5  Apud    Claryngtone    subito    occidit    in 
gravem  infirmitatem  capitis,  ita  quod  ei- 
tractus  a  mente  videbatur. — Wyrcest.  477. 
Ut    sensu   pro    tempore    careret    et    me- 

moria nee  valeret  pedibus  pergere, 

nee  sursum  erigere  verticem,  nee  de  loco  in 
quo  sedebat,  bene  se  movere. — Whethara« 
stede,  349. 

6  Eym.  xi.  363.    Rot.  Parl.  T. 


HENEY  VI. 


LCHAT.  i, 


In  an  action  for  trespass  (whether  it 
were  real  or  feigned  is  unknown)  he 
had  obtained  a  verdict  in  his  own 
favour  with  damages  to  the  amount 
of  one  thousand  pounds ;  and  Thorpe 
had  been  committed  to  the  Fleet,  till 
he  should  give  security  for  that  sum, 
and  pay  a  proportional  fine  to  the 
crown.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
commons  petitioned  for  the  release 
of  their  speaker;  the  lords  refused 
their  assent ;  and  a  new  speaker  was 
chosen.1  From  the  confused  order 
and  imperfect  nature  of  the  notices 
entered  on  the  rolls,  it  is  difficult  to 
collect  the  proceedings  of  this  session 
of  parliament.  It  appears  that  many 
of  the  lords  had  absented  themselves, 
and  were  compelled  to  attend  by  heavy 
fines.2  The  lord  Cromwell  obtained  an 
act  to  bind  the  duke  of  Exeter  to  keep 
the  peace  under  a  severe  penalty  ;3 
and  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  another 
of  the  Yorkists,  having  been  charged 
with  treason,  was  tried  and  acquitted 
by  his  peers.  The  duke,  conceiving 
that  the  accusation  was  aimed  at 
himself,  arose  and  said:  "As  far  as 
this  indictment  toucheth  me,  I  say 
that  it  is  false  and  untrue ;  and  that  I 
am,  all  the  days  of  my  life  have  been, 
and  to  the  end  thereof  shall  be,  true 
and  humble  liegeman  to  the  king, 
my  most  dread  sovereign  lord,  and 
never  privily  nor  apertly  thought  nor 


meant  the  contrary,  whereof  I  call 
unto  witness  God,  and  all  the  saints 
of  heaven."  The  lords  of  course  re- 
plied, that  they  gave  full  belief  to  so 
solemn  a  protestation.4 

A  committee  of  peers  was  now 
chosen  to  visit  the  king ;  and  as  soon 
as  they  had  reported  that  he  was  in- 
capable of  transacting  business,  an  act 
was  passed  appointing  the  duke  pro- 
tector with  a  yearly  salary  of  two 
thousand  marks.  The  Lancastrians, 
however,  had  sufficient  influence  to 
preserve  the  king's  rights  inviolate. 
It  was  declared,  agreeably  to  former 
precedents,  that  the  title  of  protector 
imported  no  authority ;  that  it  merely 
gave  the  precedence  in  the  council, 
and  the  command  of  the  army  in 
time  of  invasion  or  rebellion ;  that  it 
was  revocable  at  the  will  of  the  king ; 
that  it  should  not  prejudice  the  rights 
of  his  son,  who  had  already  been 
created  prince  of  AVales  and  earl  of 
Chester ;  and  that,  if  Henry's  in- 
capacity were  permanent,  the  pro- 
tectorate should  devolve  on  the 
prince,  as  soon  as  ho  came  of  age.5 
The  custody  of  the  sea  was  intrusted 
for  seven  years  to  five  noblemen 
selected  from  the  two  parties,  the 
earls  of  Salisbury,  Shrewsbury,  Wor- 
cester, Wiltshire,  and  the  lord  Stour- 
ton;6  but  the  government  of  Calais, 
a  most  important  asylum  in  case  of 


1  Eot.  Parl.  v.  238—240.    The  lords  con- 
salted  the  judges,  who  declined  to  give  their 
opinion,  "  for  the  court  of  parliament  is  so 
high  and  so  mighty  in  its  nature,  that  it 
may  make  law,  and  that  that  is  law,  it  may 
make  no  law;  and  the  determination  and 
knowledge  of  that  privilege  belongeth  to 
the  lords  of  parliament,  and  not  to  the  jus- 
tices."-Ibid: 

2  Ibid.  248.    The  duke  of  Somerset  and 
Lord  Cobham  were  exempted,  because  they 
were  in  prison.    Cobham  was  a  partisan  of 
York's. 

3  Ibid.  264.    From  Fenn's  Letters  it  ap- 
pears that  the  duke  of  York,  in  one  part  of 
this  year,  had  the  duke  of  Exeter  in  his  own 
custody;    and  that  he  was  afterwards  at 
large,  and  had  come  secretly  to  London. 
"  God,"  adds  the  writer,  "  send  him  good 
council  hereafter."— Fenn,  j.  72,  76.    He 


was  afterwards  confined  at  Pontefract. — 
Eym.  xi.  365.  *  Kot.  Parl.  v.  249,  250. 

s  Ibid.  242—211. 

6  Ibid.  244— 246.  Of  the  manner  in  which 
provision  was  usually  made  for  the  safe- 
guard of  the  sea,  we  have  an  instance  on  the 
Rolls  for  the  year  1443.  The  fleet  consisted 
of  eight  large  ships  with  fore  stages,  each 
carrying  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  ;  eight 
barges,  carrying  eighty;  eight  balyngers, 
forty ;  four  pinnaces,  twenty-five.  Each  of 
the  large  ships  had  a  captain,  who  was  a 
knight,  besides  a  master.  The  barges  and 
balyngers  had  also  masters.  The  expense 
of  provisions  for  each  man  was  estimated  at 
twopence  tfie  day,  his  pay  at  two  shillings 
the  month  The  masters  had  in  addition  a 
reward  of  *s.  4d.  per  month.  The  ships 
were  to  be  on  the  sea  from  Candlemas  to 
Martinmas  •  and  in  case  they  made  any  cap- 


X  1415.1 


BATTLE  OF  ST.  ALLAN'S. 


misfortune,  was  taken  from  Somerset, 
and  bestowed  on  the  duke  of  York 
for  the  same  period.1 

The  king's  malady  was  not  perma- 
nent. About  Christmas  he  recovered 
his  health,  and  with  it  the  use  of  his 
reason.2  Though  he  received  the  duke 
of  York  with  his  usual  kindness,  he 
put  an  end  to  the  protectorate,  and 
liberated  the  duke  of  Somerset  from 
the  Tower.  At  first  that  nobleman 
gave  bail  for  his  appearance  at  West- 
minster to  answer  the  charges  laid 
against  him ;  but  on  his  appeal  to  the 
council  that  he  had  been  committed 
without  any  lawful  cause,  the  re- 
cognizances were  discharged.  Henry 
laboured  most  earnestly  to  reconcile 
the  two  dukes.  As  the  government 
of  Calais,  which  had  been  taken  from 
Somerset  and  given  to  York,  was 
likely  to  prove  a  new  source  of  dis- 
sension, the  king  assumed  it  himself, 
and  prevailed  on  both  to  submit, 
under  the  penalty  of  twenty  thousand 
marks,  their  other  differences  to  the 
decision  of  eight  arbitrators,  who 
should  present  their  award  before 
the  twentieth  of  June.3 

York,  however,  had  no  intention  to 
await  that  award,  but  took  the  first 
opportunity  to  retire  from  court, 
invited  his  friends  to  meet  him  in 
the  marches  of  Wales,  and  soon  saw 
himself  at  the  head  of  three  thousand 
men,  with  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  *he 
earl  of  Salisbury,  and  his  son  the 


celebrated  earl  of  Warwick.  At  the 
news  Henry  left  London,  and  early 
the  next  morning,  as  he  entered  St. 
Alban's,  was  surprised  to  behold  the 
banners  of  the  Yorkists  advancing 
towards  the  town.  They  halted  in  a 
neighbouring  field ;  and,  after  a  pause 
of  three  hours  sent  a  message  to  the 
king  with  strong  professions  of  attach- 
ment and  loyalty,  but  demanding  the 
immediate  surrender  of  Somerset  and 
his  associates,  and  declaring  that  they 
would  die  themselves,  or  pursue  their 
enemies  to  the  death.  Henry  refused 
with  firmness,  declaring  that,  "sooner 
than  abandon  any  of  the  lords  who 
were  faithful  to  him,  he  was  ready 
that  day  in  their  quarrel  to  live  and 
die."4  Though  the  barriers  at  the 
entrance  of  the  town  were  gallantly 
defended  by  the  lord  Clifford,  War- 
wick forced  his  way  through  the 
gardens  into  the  street,  and  his  fol- 
lowers rent  the  air  with  shouts  of 
"A  Warwick  !  a  Warwick  I"  At  the 
sound,  alarm  spread  among  the  roy- 
alists ;  the  barriers  were  abandoned ; 
the  Yorkists  poured  through  the 
opening ;  and  the  victory  was  won. 

Henry  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
house  of  a  tanner,  where  the  duke 
immediately  visited  him.  He  bent 
his  knee  with  apparent  humility, 
bade  the  king  rejoice  that  the  trai- 
tor (meaning  Somerset)  had  met  with 
his  desert,  and,  taking  him  by  the 
hand,  led  him  first  to  the  shrine  of 


tores,  the  value  was  to  be  divided  into  two 
halves,  of  which  one  belonged  to  the  mas- 
ters, quarter-masters,  shipmen,  and  sol- 
diers; the  other  was  to  be  subdivided  in 
three  equal  parts,  of  which  two  were  to  be 
given  to  the  owners  of  the  ships,  barges, 
balyngers,  and  pinnaces,  and  one  to  the 
captains,  by  whom  it  was  to  be  apportioned 
into  eight  shares,  two  for  the  commander- 
in-chief,  and  one  for  each  of  the  others.— 
Ibid.  59,  60. 

i  Eot.  Parl.  v.  254— 256.  On  the  death 
of  Kempe,  archbishop  of  Canterbury  and 
chancellor,  York  gave  the  seals  to  his  great 
friend,  the  earl  of  Salisbury.  Ap.  2,  1454.— 
See  Eym.  xi.  344. 

8  Fenn's  Letters,  i.  80.  "  And  on  the 
Monday  afternoon  the  queen  came  to  him, 


and  brought  my  lord  prince  with  her,  and 
there  he  asked  what  the  prince's  name  was, 
and  the  queen  told  him  Edward,  and  theu 
he  held  up  his  hands  and  thanked  God 
thereof.  And  he  said  he  never  knew  till 
that  time,  nor  wist  not  what  was  said  to 
him,  nor  wist  not  where  he  had  been  whilst 
he  hath  been  sick  till  now." — Ibid. 

3  Eym.  361—364.  The  arbitrators  were, 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  bishop  of 
Ely,  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  the  earls  of 
Wiltshire  and  Worcester,  the  viscount 
Beaumont,  and  the  lords  Cromwell  and 
Stourton.— Ibid.  The  duke  of  Eieter  v»as 
also  liberated  from  his  confineme  in  the 
castle  of  Pontefract.— Eym.  xi.  365. 

*  Whetham.  352.    Stowe,  3i8. 


HENftY  VI. 


[CHAP.  I. 


St.  Alban,  and  then  to  his  apartment 
in  the  abbey.  The  battle  seems  to 
have  been  won  by  the  archers. 
Henry  was  wounded  in  the  neck, 
the  duke  of  Buckingham  and  Lord 
Dudley  in  the  face,  the  earl  of  Staf- 
ford in  the  arm,  all  of  them  with 
arrows.  The  duke  of  Somerset,  the 
earl  of  Northumberland,  and  the  lord 
Clifford  were  slain;  and,  as  soon  as 
they  fell,  their  men  threw  down  their 
arms  and  fled.1  Some  writers  toll  us 
that  the  slain  amounted  to  many 
thousands ;  but  a  letter  written  three 
days  after  the  battle  reduces  it  to  six 
score  ;  and  Sir  William  Stonor,  at 
that  time  steward  of  the  abbey,  seems 
to  make  the  number  still  smaller.2 

The  unfortunate  king,  in  the  hands 
and  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies,  was 
compelled  to  lend  the  sanction  of  his 
authority  to  the  very  acts  by  which 
he  had  been  deprived  of  his  liberty. 
When  the  parliament  assembled,  he 
was  told  that  York  and  his  adherents 
had  in  all  their  proceeding  been  ac- 
tuated by  sentiments  of  the  purest 
loyalty;  that  their  only  object  had 
been  to  explain  to  him  the  disgraceful 
practices  of  his  ministers,  and  to  as- 
sist him  with  their  advice  in  redress- 
ing the  grievances  of  the  nation; 
that  previously  to  the  battle  they  had 
announced  their  motives  and  views 
in  letters,  which  had  been  withheld 


i  Hot.  Parl.  v.  347. 

*  Hall   has    8,000  (w.   168),    Stowe  5,000 
(p.  400),  but  Crane  IN  his  letter  to  his  con- 
sin  John  Paston,  dated  Whitsunday,  had  at 
first  written  ten  score,  which  he  afterwards 
corrected  to  six. — Fenn's  Letters,  i.  p.  100. 
According  to   Sir  William    Stonor,    forty- 
eight  were  buried  in  St.  Alban's. — Arch.  xx. 
622.    Numbers  are  generally  exaggerated 
in  the  ancient  writers. 

3  Thorpe  was  in  the  battle  ;  "  he  and 
many  otner  filede,  and  left  her  barneys 
behynde  him  cowardly." — Arch.  xx.  522. 
The  very  letter  or  remonstrance  said  to 
have  been  kept  back,  was  lately  in  the  pos- 
session of  Mr.  Thorpe. 

*  Rot.  Parl.  v.  275— 2S3.     The   Yorkists 
appear  to  have    quarrelled  among    them- 
selves.   On  the  day  on  which  they  swore 
*»alty,  "  there  was  language  between  my 


from  his  notice  by  the  arts  of  the  late 
duke  of  Somerset,  of  Thorpe,  formerly 
speaker  of  the  house  of  commons,3 
and  of  William  Joseph,  the  confidant 
of  these  traitors  ;  and  at  last  they 
determined  to  lay  their  complaints 
before  him  in  person ;  but,  as  they 
entered  the  town  of  St.  Alban's  for 
that  purpose,  were  opposed  by  Somer- 
set, who  in  the  affray  which  followed, 
paid  with  his  life  the  penalty  of  his 
treason.  The  king,  affecting  to  give 
credit  to  this  incredible  tale,  acquitted 
York,  Warwick,  and  Salisbury  of  all 
disloyal  practices,  pronounced  them 
good  and  faithful  subjects,  and  granted 
them  a  full  pardon  for  all  offences 
committed  before  the  first  day  of  the 
session.  The  peers  renewed  their 
oath  of  fealty,  the  spiritual  lords 
laying  their  right  hands  on  their 
breasts,  the  temporal  placing  their 
hands  between  those  of  the  king. 
On  the  last  day  of  July  the  parlia- 
ment was  prorogued  to  the  twelfth 
of  November.4 

About  the  end  of  October  it  was 
rumoured  that  Henry  had  relapsed 
into  his  former  disorder,  and  the  ses- 
sion was  opened  by  the  duke  of  York 
as  his  lieutenant.  The  next  day  the 
commons  requested  the  lords  to  peti- 
tion the  king,  that,  if  he  were  unable 
to  attend  to  the  public  business  him- 
self, a  protector  might  be  imme- 


lords  of  Warwick  and  Cromwell  afore  the 
king,  insomuch  as  the  lord  Cromwell  would 
have  excused  himself  of  all  the  stirring  or 
moving  of  the  mal  journey  (the  battle)  of 
St.  Alban's,  of  the  which  excuse  making  my 
lord  of  Warwick  had  knowledge,  and  iu 
haste  was  with  the  king,  and  swore  by  his 
oath  that  the  lord  Cromwell  said  not  truth 
but  that  he  was  beginner  of  all  that  journey 
at  St.  Alban's  ;  and  so  between  my  said 
two  lords  of  Warwick  and  Cromwell  there 
is  at  this  day  great  grudging,  insomuch  as 
the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  hath  lodged  him  at 
the  hospital  of  St.  James,  beside  the  Mews, 
by  the  lord  Cromwell's  desire,  for  his  safe- 
guard."— Fenn's  Let.  i.  110.  In  this  session 
was  passed  an  act,  declaring  the  duke  of 
Gloucester  to  have  been  till  his  death  a 
loyal_  subject.— Whetham.  365.  Bot.  Tarl. 


A.D.  1457.]       i' ORK  RENEWS  HIS  OATH  OF  FEALTY. 


diately  appointed.  Two  days  later 
they  renewed  their  request,  adding, 
that  till  it  was  granted  they  should 
suspend  the  consideration  of  every 
other  subject.  As  soon  as  they  left 
the  house,  the  lords  conjured  the  duke 
of  York  to  undertake  the  charge; 
but  he,  with  affected  humility,  alleged 
his  own  incapacity,  and  solicited  them 
to  select  from  their  body  a  peer  more 
worthy  of  the  honour,  and  more  equal 
to  the  burden.  They  in  return  re- 
newed their  prayer  with  many 
compliments  to  his  abilities  and  wis- 
dom. When  this  farce  had  been 
acted  for  a  considerable  time,  he 
condescended  to  accept  the  protec- 
torate, but  on  condition  that  it  should 
not  be,  as  before,  revocable  "  at  the 
will  of  the  king,  but  by  the  king  in 
parliament,  with  the  advice  and 
assent  of  the  lords  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral." '  Still  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment were  vested,  not  in  him,  but  in 
the  members  of  the  council ;  but  this 
provision  was  intended  merely  to 
blind  the  eyes  of  the  nation ;  for  he 
had  previously  secured  a  majority  in 
the  council,  and  the  office  of  chan- 
cellor, and  the  government  of  Calais, 
were  bestowed  on  his  associates,  the 
carls  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick.2 

After  these  arrangements  the  pro- 
tector might  think  himself  secure, 
and  might  expect  at  a  convenient 
time  to  exchange  his  present  for  a  still 
higher  title.  But  the  meek  and  in- 
offensive character  of  Henry  had 
preserved  him  friends,  who  were  un- 
willing that  he  should  be  stripped  of 
nis  authority ;  and  the  lofty  spirit  of 
the  queen  sought  every  opportunity 
to  oppose  the  rival  pretensions  of  the 
Yorkists.  When  the  parliament  met 
after  the  holidays,  Henry  had  reco- 


vered his  health.  To  strengthen  his 
party,  York  had  called  Sir  Thomas 
Stanley  and  Sir  Richard  West  to  the 
house  of  peers ;  but  the  current  ran 
in  the  king's  favour;  Henry  pro- 
ceeded in  person  to  the  parliament, 
and  the  protector's  commission  was 
formally  revoked.3 

With  apparent  willingness  the  duke 
descended  from  his  high  station ;  the 
earl  of  Salisbury  resigned  the  great 
seal;  and  the  offices  of  government 
were  again  filled  by  the  king's  friends. 
T\vo  years  passed  without  any  im- 
portant occurrence ;  but  they  were 
years  of  distress  and  alarm :  the  rela- 
tives of  the  lords  slain  at  St.  Alban's 
loudly  demanded  vengeance ;  and 
their  adversaries  surrounded  them- 
selves with  bands  of  armed  and 
trusted  retainers.  Henry  called  a 
great  council  at  Coventry,  and  by  the 
mouth  of  his  chancellor  repeatedly 
communicated  his  complaints  and 
intentions  to  the  duke  of  York.  At 
length  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  as 
speaker  of  the  house,  rehearsed  all  the 
real  or  supposed  offences  with  which 
that  prince  had  been  charged ;  and  at 
the  conclusion,  the  peers,  falling  on 
their  knees,  besought  the  king  to 
declare  that  he  would  never  more 
"  show  grace "  to  the  duke  or  any 
other  person,  who  should  oppose  the 
rights  of  the  crown,  or  disturb  the 
peace  of  the  realm.  Henry  assented ; 
and  York  repeated  his  oath  of  fealty, 
and  gave  a  copy  of  it  under  his  own 
signature  to  the  king.  The  same  was 
exacted  from  the  earl  of  Warwick. 
In  conclusion,  all  the  lords  bound 
themselves  never  for  the  future  to 
seek  redress  by  force,  but  to  remit 
their  quarrels  to  the  justice  of  their 
sovereign.4 


1  In  the  net  of  confirming  this  appoint- 
ment, as  well  as  that  which  confirmed  the 
former,  a  clause  was  introduced  transferring 
it  to  the  prince  of  Wales,  as  soon  as  he 
should  come  to  the  years  of  discretion.— 
Ibid.  288. 

8  Hot.   Purl.  v.   283-290,  441.     Younp, 


who  had  been  imprisoned  for  his  bold  mo- 
tion in  favour  of  the  duke  of  York,  pre- 
sented a  petition  for  damages  on  account 
of  his  imprisonment. — Ibid.  337. 

»  Ibid.  421. 

4  Such  is  the  account  on  the  Eolls,  v.  347. 
Our  chroniclers  tell  us  that  York,  Salisbury 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  I, 


In  consequence  of  this  resolution, 
Henry,  who  had  long  acted  as  the 
only  impartial  man  in  his  dominions, 
laboured  to  mitigate  the  resentments 
of  the  two  parties;  and  at  last  had 
reason  to  hope  that  his  endeavours 
would  be  crowned  with  complete  suc- 
cess. By  common  agreement  they 
repaired  with  their  retainers  to  Lon- 
don ; l  the  royalists  were  lodged  with- 
out, the  Yorkists  within  the  walls; 
and  the  mayor,  at  the  head  of  five 
thousand  armed  citizens,  undertook 
to  preserve  the  peace.  The  duke 
assembled  his  partisans  every  morn- 
ing at.the  Black  Friars :  their  resolves 
were  "communicated  by  the  primate 
and  other  prelates  to  the  royalists, 
who  met  at  the  White  Friars  every 
afternoon;  and  the  proceedings  of 
the  day  were  in  the  evening  laid  before 
the  king,  who  with  several  of  the 
judges  resided  at  Berkhamstead.  At 
length,  as  umpire  between  them,  he 
pronounced  his  award:  that  within 
the  two  following  years  a  chantry 
should  be  founded  at  the  expense  of 
the  duke  of  York,  and  the  earls  of 
Salisbury  and  Warwick,  for  the  squls 
of  the  three  lords  slain  in  battle  at 
St.  Albau's;  that  both  those  who 
were  dead,  and  the  lords  who  had 
been  the  cause  of  their  death,  should 
be  reputed  faithful  subjects ;  that  the 
duke  of  York  should  pay  to  the  dow- 
ager duchess  of  Somerset  and  her 
children  the  sum  of  five  thousand, 
and  the  earl  of  Warwick  to  the  lord 
Clifford  that  of  one  thousand  marks ; 
and  that  the  earl  of  Salisbury  should 
release  to  Percy  lord  Egremont  all 
the  damages  he  had  obtained  against 
him  for  an  assault,  on  condition  that 


the  said  lord  Egremont  should  enter 
into  a  sufficient  recognizance  to  keep 
the  peace  for  ten  years.2  The  next 
day  Henry,  attended  by  his  whole 
court,  walked  in  procession  to  St. 
Paul's.  In  token  of  their  reconci- 
liation the  queen  was  conducted  by 
the  duke  of  York;  and  the  lords  of 
each  party  walked  before  them  arm  in 
arm  as  friends  or  brothers.  To  the 
beholders  it  was  a  spectacle  which 
appeared  to  promise  harmony  and 
peace ;  but  no  external  ceremony 
could  extinguish  the  passions  of  am- 
bition and  revenge  which  yet  lay 
smouldering  in  their  breasts.3 

The  king  a  short  time  before  had 
taken  the  custody  of  the  sea  from  the 
duke  of  Exeter,  and  given  it  to  the 
earl  of  Warwick  for  a  term  of  five 
years.  His  object  probably  was  to 
attach  that  enterprising  nobleman  to 
the  throne,  or  to  remove  him  to  a 
distance  from  his  associates.  In  May 
intelligence  was  brought  to  Calais, 
that  a  strange  fleet  of  twenty-eight 
sail  had  been  met  at  sea ;  and  War- 
wick, with  his  characteristic  intre- 
pidity, hastened  to  intercept  it  with 
only  five  large  and  seven  small  vessels. 
The  battle  lasted  from  four  in  the 
morning  till  ten;  and  the  English, 
though  they  had  captured  six  sail, 
were  compelled  to  retire  with  con- 
siderable loss  into  Calais.4  The  fleet, 
or  at  least  the  merchandise,  belonged 
to  the  citizens  of  Lubeck,  whose  com- 
merce had  been  hitherto  conducted 
under  the  faith  of  treaties  with  Eng- 
land. On  the  complaint  of  the  suf- 
ferers, a  commission  was  appointed 
to  inquire  into  the  causes  of  the  en- 
gagement ;  and  Warwick  was  in  con- 


aud  Warwick  had  arrived  near  Coventry, 
when  they  received  advice  of  a  conspiracy 
against  their  lives,  and  immediately  fled, 
York  to  Wigmore,  Salisbury  to  Middleham, 
and  Warwick  to  Calais.— Fab.  462.  Stowe, 
402. 

1  The  duke  of  York  had  only  140  horse, 
the  new  duke  of  Somerset  200,  the  earl  of 
Salisbury  400,  besides  fourscore  knights  and 
enquires. — Fenn's  Letters,  i.  151. 


2  It  is  given  at  length  in  Whethamstede, 
418—428.  See  also  Rot.  Parl.  v.  347. 

8  Fab.  464.    Holinshed,  647.    Hall,  172. 

*  John  Jerningham,  who  was  in  the 
battle,  acknowledged  the  defeat.  "Men 
say,  there  was  not  so  great  a  battle  upon 
the  sea  these  forty  winters ;  and  forsooth 
we  were  well  and  truly  beat." — Fenn's  Let- 
ters, i.  161. 


A.D.  1459.] 


THE  YORKISTS  DEFEATED. 


59 


sequence  summoned  to  attend  iLe 
council  at  Westminster.1  One  day, 
as  he  left  the  court ,  a  quarrel  arose 
between  one  of  his  livery  and  one  of 
the  king's  servants;  the  affray  gra- 
dually became  more  alarming;  and 
the  earl  believed,  or  a  fleeted  to  be- 
lieve, that  his  life  was  in  danger. 
He  hastened  into  the  north  to  con- 
sult his  father  the  earl  of  Salisbury 
and  the  duke  of  York ;  and  having 
settled  with  them  the  plan  of  his 
future  operations,  returned  to  his 
command  at  Calais.8 

The  winter  was  passed  in  prepara- 
tions for  the  subsequent  contest.  The 
**hree  lords  actively  solicited  the  aid 
of  their  partisans ;  and  "Warwick  in 
particular  called  under  his  banner  the 
veterans  who  had  served  in  the  late 
wars  in  Normandy  and  Guienne. 
The  court  distributed  with  profusion 
collars  of  white  swans,  the  badge  of 
the  young  prince,  and  by  letters 
under  the  privy  seal  invited  the 
king's  friends  to  meet  him  in  arms  in 
the  city  of  Leicester.3  The  dissension 
was  no  longer  confined  to  the  higher 
classes ;  it  divided  almost  every  family 
in  the  nation ;  it  had  penetrated  into 
the  convents  of  the  monks  and  the 
cottages  of  the  poor.  One  party 
maintained  that  the  duke  of  York 
was  an  injured  prince,  who  with  his 
associates  was  trampled  under  foot 
by  the  minions  of  the  court,  and  was 
compelled  to  arm  in  order  to  preserve 
his  own  life;  the  other  pronounced 
him  a  traitor,  who  under  false  pre- 
tences sought  to  place  himself  on  the 
throne,  and  who  owed  to  the  king's 
clemency  that  life  which  he  had 
already  forfeited  to  the  laws.4  The 
greater  part  of  the  summer  passed 
without  any  important  event.  At 
last  the  earl  of  Salisbury  moved  from 
his  castle  of  Middleham  to  join  the 
duke  of  York  on  the  borders  of 


Wales.  The  lord  Audley  with  ten 
thousand  n>en  interposed  himself 
between  them  at  Bloreheath  in  Staf- 
fordshire. Salisbury,  whose  force  was 
small,  pretended  to  fly ;  the  royalists 
pursued  in  confusion ;  and,  as  soon 
as  one  half  of  them  had  crossed  a 
rapid  torrent,  the  fugitives  turned, 
fell  on  the  pursuers  in  the  glen,  and 
obtained  with  ease  a  complete  victory. 
Audley,  with  more  than  two  thou- 
sand men,  remained  on  the  field  of 
battle;  the  lord  Dudley,  with  many 
knights  and  esquires,  was  made  pri- 
soner. The  earl  led  his  troops  with- 
out further  molestation  to  Ludlow, 
where  he  found  the  duke  of  York, 
and  was  in  a  few  days  joined  by  his 
son  from  Calais  with  a  large  body  of 
veterans  under  Sir  John  Blount  and 
Sir  Andrew  Trollop.5 

The  king  with  an  army  of  sixty 
thousand  men  lay  at  Worcester,  and 
had  sent  the  bishop  of  Salisbury  to 
his  opponents  with  offers  of  recon- 
ciliation and  pardon,  if  they  would 
submit  within  six  days.  They  replied 
that  they  had  no  reliance  on  his  pro- 
mises ;  that  his  friends  depending  on 
his  own  favour,  transgressed  his 
commands ;  and  that  the  earl  of  War- 
wick had  the  last  year  nearly  lost  his 
life  by  their  treachery.  He  advanced 
to  Ludiford,  within  half  a  mile  of 
their  camp;  when  they  sent  him  a 
second  message,  declaring  that,  if  they 
had  taken  up  arms,  it  was  solely  in 
their  own  defence ;  that  though  they 
could  have  revenged  themselves  on 
their  enemies,  they  had  refrained 
through  respect  to  him;  and  that 
even  now  when  they  had  retired  to 
the  very  borders  of  his  kingdom,  they 
had  determined  not  to  draw  the  sword 
against  their  sovereign,  unless  they 
should  be  compelled  by  necessity.6 
The  Yorkists  were  intrenched  behind 
several  batteries  of  cannon,  which 


i  Eym.  xi.  415.  2  Hall,  172,  173. 

3  Fenn,  i.  175. 

4  Cont.  Croyl.  i.  529.    Whetham.  451. 


s  Hall,  173.    Stowe,  405.    Whetham.  445. 
Hot.  Parl.  v.  394. 

c  -\Vhetham.  463.     Stowe,  406. 


CO 


HENRY  VI. 


LCHA1>.  I. 


played  incessantly  on  the  royal  army. 
To  keep  up  the  spirits  of  his  men,  the 
duke  spread  a  report  that  Henry  had 
died  the  day  before,  and  ordered  mass 
to  be  chanted  for  the  repose  of  his 
soul.  But  the  same  afternoon  Sir 
Andrew  Trollop,  marshal  of  the  army, 
who,  though  attached  to  his  sovereign, 
had  hitherto  been  deceived  by  the  fair 
speeches  of  the  insurgents,  discovered 
the  real  object  of  the  duke.  He  did 
not  hesitate  a  moment ;  but,  taking 
with  him  his  veterans,  departed  to 
offer  his  services  to  the  king.  Distrust 
and  consternation  instantly  spread 
through  the  camp;  and  the  confe- 
derate lords  about  midnight  fled  with 
precipitation  into  the  heart  of  Wales. 
There  they  separated,  York  with  one 
of  his  sons  sailing  to  Ireland,  the  rest 
accompanying  Warwick  into  Devon- 
shire, whence  he  made  his  way  back 
to  Calais.1 

This  bloodless  victory  was  most 
gratifying  to  the  merciful  disposition 
of  Henry,  who  the  next  morning 
granted  an  amnesty  to  the  insurgents 
abandoned  by  their  leaders,  and  con- 
voked a  parliament  to  meet  at  Coven- 
try. Its  principal  employment  was 
to  pass  an  act  of  attainder  against  the 
duke  and  duchess  of  York,  and  their 
children  the  earls  of  March  and  Rut- 
land, against  the  earl  and  countess  of 
Salisbury,  and  their  son  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  the  lord  Clinton,  and  a  few 
other  knights  and  esquires.2  It  was 
with  pain  that  Henry  acquiesced  in 
this  act  of  severity.  When  it  was  read 
before  him  preparatory  to  the  disso- 
lution, he  insisted  on  the  addition  of 
a  clause  enabling  him  to  dispense 
with  the  attainder,  whenever  he 
should  think  proper,  and  refused  his 
assent  to  that  part  of  it  which  con- 


fiscated the  property  of  the  lord 
Powis  and  two  other?,  who  had 
thrown  themselves  on  his  mercy  the 
morning  after  the  flight  of  their 
leaders.3 

In  this  desperate  situation  the  hopes 
and  fortunes  of  the  Yorkists  rested  on 
the  abilities  and  popularity  of  the  earl 
of  Warwick,  who  by  a  most  fatal 
error  had  been  permitted  to  retain 
the  command  of  the  fleet  with  the 
government  of  Calais.  He  was  now 
superseded  in  both ;  in  the  former  by 
the  duke  of  Exeter,  in  the  latter  by 
the  duke  of  Somerset.  But  when 
Somerset  prepared  to  enter  the  har- 
bour, he  was  driven  back  by  the 
fire  from  the  batteries  ;  and  as  soon 
as  he  had  landed  at  Guisnes,  his  ships 
were  carried  off  by  his  own  mariners 
to  their  favourite  commander  at 
Calais.  They  were  a  most  valuable 
acquisition  to  Warwick,  who,  while 
Somerset  and  his  veterans  were  use- 
lessly detained  in  Guisnes,  surprised 
two  successive  armaments  fitted  out 
by  the  royalists  in  the  ports  of  Kent. 
He  sailed  even  to  Dublin  to  concert 
measures  with  the  duke  of  York,  and 
in  his  return  was  met  by  the  duke  of 
Exeter;  but  that  commander,  alarmed 
at  symptoms  of  disaffection  in  his 
fleet,  turned  into  Dartmouth,  and 
Warwick  rejoined  his  friends  in 
Calais.4 

The  result  of  the  conference  at 
Dublin  was  soon  disclosed.  Emis- 
saries were  sent  to  all  the  friends  of 
the  party  to  hold  themselves  in  rea- 
diness for  action ;  and  reports  were 
spread  that  Henry  had  not  given  his 
assent  to  the  act  of  attainder ;  that  he 
was  still  convinced  of  the  innocence 
of  the  exiles ;  and  that,  instead  of 
being  free,  he  was  a  reluctant  captive 


1  Rot.Parl.v.349.  Whetham.461.  Hall, 
374.  Fab.  466.  *  Rot.  Parl.  v.  345— 351. 

3  Ibid.  350.    Whetham.  473. 

*  Wyrcest.  478, 479.  Whethamstede,  476. 
In  one  of  these  expeditions  the  lord  Kivers 
was  surprised  in  bed.  "  He  was  brought  to 
Calais  and  before  the  lords  with  eight  score 


torches,  and  there  my  lord  of  Salisbury 
rated  him,  calling  him  Knave's  son,  that  he 
should  be  so  rude  as  to  call  him  and  those 
other  lords  traitors;  for  they  should  be 
found  the  king's  true  liege  men,  when  he 
should  be  found  a  traitor." — Fenn's  Let- 
ters,  i.  187. 


A.D.  14GO.J         DEFEAT  AND  CAPTUEE  OF  HENRY. 


61 


in  the  hands  of  a  faction.  At  the 
same  time  was  circulated  an  appeal 
to  the  nation  by  the  duke  of  York, 
enumerating  all  the  grievances  under 
which  the  people  were  said  to  labour ; 
accusing  the  earls  of  Shrewsbury  and 
Wiltshire,  and  the  lord  Beaumont,  of 
guiding  the  king  contrary  to  his  own 
interests ;  complaining  of  the  act  of 
attainder  against  himself  and  his 
friends ;  asserting  that  letters  had 
been  sent  to  the  French  king  to  be- 
siege Calais,  and  to  the  natives  of 
Ireland  to  expel  the  English ;  and 
declaring  that  the  fugitive  lords  were 
faithful  subjects,  and  intended  to 
prove  their  innocence  before  their 
(Sovereign.1  This  manifesto  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  arrival  of  Warwick, 
who  with  fifteen  hundred  men  landed 
in  Kent,  a  county  much  attached  to 
the  house  of  York.  He  brought 
with  him  Coppini,  bishop  of  Terni, 
who  had  been  sent  by  Pius  II.  as 
legate  to  Henry,  but  had  already  sold 
himself  to  the  king's  enemies.  In 
Kent,  Warwick  was  joined  by  the 
lord  Cobharn  with  four  hundred  fol- 
lowers, by  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, who  owed  his  dignity  to  the 
favour  of  the  duke  during  the  protec- 
torate, and  by  most  of  the  neighbour- 
ing gentlemen.  As  he  advanced,  his 
army  swelled  to  the  amount  of  twenty- 
five,  some  say  to  forty  thousand  men : 
London  opened  its  gates;  and  the 
earl,  going  to  the  convocation,  as- 
serted his  loyalty  upon  oath,  and 
prevailed  on  five  of  the  bishops  to 
accompany  him,  for  the  purpose  of 
introducing  him  to  his  sovereign. 
The  legate  at  the  same  time  pub- 
lished to  the  clergy  and  people  a 
letter  which  he  had  written  to  the 
king,  vindicating  the  loyalty  of  the 
Yorkists,  and  declaring  that  they 


demanded  nothing  more  than  the 
peaceable  possession  of  their  estates, 
and  the  removal  of  evil  counsellors. 
Henry  had  collected  his  army  at 
Coventry,  and  advanced  to  North- 
ampton, where  he  intrenched  him- 
self. Warwick,  after  three  ineffectual 
attempts  to  obtain  a  conference  with 
the  king,  gave  to  him  notice  to  pre- 
pare for  battle  at  two  in  the  after- 
noon ;  and  the  legate,  to  animate  his 
friends,  not  only  excommunicated 
their  enemies,  but  set  up  the  papal 
banner  in  the  field.3  The  royalists 
seemed  confident  of  victory,  but  were 
betrayed  by  the  lord  Grey  of  Euthyn, 
who,  instead  of  defending  his  post, 
introduced  the  Yorkists  into  the 
heart  of  the  camp.  Though  the 
combat  lasted  but  a  short  time,  the 
duke  of  Buckingham,  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  lord  treasurer,  the  vis- 
count Beaumont,  the  lord  Egre- 
mont,  with  three  hundred  knights 
and  gentlemen,  were  slain  ;3  for  it  was 
the  policy  of  Warwick  to  direct  his 
followers  to  spare  the  people,  and  to 
refuse  quarter  to  the  nobility.  Henry 
retired  to  his  tent,  where  he  received 
from  the  victors  every  demonstration 
of  respect ;  his  queen  and  her  son 
fled  towards  Chester,  and  though 
they  were  rifled  by  their  own  ser- 
vants, escaped  into  Wales,  and  thence 
after  many  adventures  sailed  to  one 
of  the  Scottish  ports.4 

The  captive  monarch  was  conducted 
to  London.  But  though  he  entered 
the  capital  in  great  pomp,  the  earl 
of  Warwick  riding  bareheaded  and 
carrying  the  sword  before  him,  he 
was  compelled  to  give  the  sanction  of 
his  authority  to  such  measures  as  the 
victors  proposed,  to  issue  writs  in 
approbation  of  the  loyalty  of  those 
who  had  borne  arms  against  him,  and 


1  Stowe,  407,  408. 

2  Ellis,  Orig.  Letters,   ser.  3,  i.  82—97. 
As  soon  as  this  was  known  in  Rome,  Pius 
recalled  the  legate ;  and  though  he  returned 
laden  with  honours,  presents,  and  offices  by 
King  Edward,  imprisoned,    deposed,    and 


degraded  him.  He  was  afterwards  per- 
mitted to  take  the  cowl  in  a  Benedictine 
abbey,  under  the  name  of  Ignatius. — Ibid. 

3  Wyrcest.   431.      Whetham.    479—481. 
Hardyng,  40J.  *  \Vyrccst.  481,  482. 


62 


HENRY  VI. 


[CHAP.  r. 


to  call  a  parliament  for  the  pretended 
purpose  of  healing  the  dissensions 
between  the  two  parties.  It  had 
scarcely  repealed  all  the  acts  passed 
by  the  last  parliament  at  Coventry,1 
when  the  duke  of  York  entered  the 
city  with  a  retinue  of  five  hundred 
horsemen,  and,  riding  to  Westminster, 
passed  through  the  hall  into  the 
house,  and  stood  for  a  short  time 
with  his  hand  on  the  throne.  To 
the  spectators  he  appeared  to  wait 
for  an  invitation  to  place  himself  on 
it.  But  every  voice  was  silent.  He 
turned  and  surveyed  the  assembly, 
when  the  primate  ventured  to  ask 
him  if  he  would  visit  the  king,  who 
was  in  the  queen's  apartment.  "I 
know  no  one  in  this  realm,"  he  re- 
plied, "  who  ought  not  rather  to  visit 
me;"  and  leaving  the  house,  appro- 
priated to  himself  that  part  of  the 
palace  which  had  been  usually  re- 
served for  the  accommodation  of  the 
monarch.8 

This  was  the  first  time  that  the 
duke  had  publicly  advanced  his  claim; 
but  though  he  was  really  in  possession 
of  the  royal  authority,  the  people 
were  not  prepared  to  deprive  Henry 
of  the  crown.  The  meek  and  inof- 
fensive character  of  the  king  strongly 
interested  the  feelings  of  men  in  his 
favour.  His  family  had  been  seated 
on  the  throne  for  three  generations ; 
he  had  filled  it  himself  thirty-nine 
years;  most  of  his  opponents  owed 
their  honours,  many  of  them  their 
estates,  to  his  bounty.  York  himself, 
on  succeeding  to  the  inheritance  of 
the  earl  of  March,  from  whom  he 
claimed,  had  sworn  fealty  and  done 


homage  to  Henry ;  when  he  accepted 
the  government  of  Normandy,  when 
he  was  appointed  lieutenant  in  Ire- 
land, when  he  was  raised  to  the  pro- 
tectorate during  the  king's  incapacity, 
he  had  under  his  own  seal  and  on  tho 
rolls  of  parliament  acknowledged  him 
for  his  sovereign ;  and  of  late  he  had 
repeatedly  sworn,  on  the  sacrament, 
that  he  would  be  faithful  to  him, 
would  maintain  him  on  the  throne, 
and  would  even  augment,  if  it  were 
possible,  his  royal  dignity.  On  these 
accounts  many  of  his  adherents  would 
never  be  persuaded  that  he  intended 
to  dethrone  Henry  ;  and  when  he 
made  the  attempt,  he  found  his  hopes 
unexpectedly  checked  by  their  apathy, 
and  the  murmurs  of  the  people.3 

On  the  ninth  day  of  the  session  the 
duke  of  York  by  his  counsel  delivered 
to  the  bishop  of  Exeter,  the  new 
chancellor,  a  statement  of  his  claim 
to  the  crown,  and  requested  that  he 
might  have  a  speedy  answer.  The 
lords  resolved  that,  since  every  man 
who  sued  in  that  court,  whether  he 
were  high  or  low,  had  a  right  to  be 
heard,  the  duke's  petition  should  be 
read,  but  that  no  answer  should  be 
returned  without  the  previous  com- 
mand of  the  king.  In  this  writing, 
having  first  derived  his  descent  from 
Henry  III.,  by  Lionel,  third  .son  to 
Edward  III.,  he  stated  that,  on  the 
resignation  of  Richard  II.,  Henry 
earl  of  Derby,  the  son  of  John  ol 
Ghent,  the  younger  brother  of  the 
said  Lionel,  had,  against  all  manner 
of  right,  entered  on  the  crowns  of 
England  and  France  and  the  lordship 
of  Ireland,  which  by  law  belonged  to 


1  Eot.  Parl.  v,  374.  The  reasons  given 
are,  that  it  was  not  duly  summoned,  and 
that  many  of  the  members  were  returned, 
some  without  due  and  free  election,  and 
some  without  any  election  at  all. — Rot. 
Parl.  v.  374.  How  far  this  was  true  in  the 
present  instance,  we  know  not ;  it  should, 
however,  be  observed  that  tho  sheriffs 
prayed  for  a  bill  of  indemnity,  no»  because 
they  had  made  false  returns,  as  some 
writers  have  imagined,  but  for  having  celd 


the  elections  in  obedience  to  the  writ  after 
the  year  of  their  shrievalty  was  expired, 
contrary  to  the  statute  of  the  23rd  oi 
the  king.— Ibid.  367. 

2  Whetham.  483.    Wyrcest.  483. 

3  Et  illo  die  pauci  dominorum  sibi  fave- 
bant   sed  solummodo  absentabant. — Wyr- 
cest. 484.    Ccepit  protinus  status  omnis  et 
gradus,  atas  et  sexus,  ordo  et  conditio  con- 
tra eum  murmuranter  agere.— Whetham. 
485. 


.  1460.] 


YORK'S  CLAIM  TO  THE  GROWN. 


Roger  Mortimer,  earl  of  March,  great- 
grandson  to  the  said  Sir  Lionel  ;  whence 
ne  concluded  that  of  right,  law,  and 
custom,  the  said  crown  and  lordship 
now  belonged  to  himself,  as  the  lineal 
representative  of  Roger  Mortimer, 
in  preference  to  any  one  who  could 
claim  only  as  the  descendant  of  Henry 
earl  of  Deroy.1 

The  next  day  Richard  demanded 
an  immediate  answer,  and  the  lords 
resolved  to  wait  on  the  king,  and 
to  receive  his  commands.  Henry, 
when  the  subject  was  first  opened  to 
him,  replied ;  "  My  father  was  king ; 
his  father  was  also  king :  I  have  worn 
the  crown  forty  years  from  my  cradle; 
you  have  all  sworn  fealty  to  me  as 
your  sovereign,  and  your  fathers  have 
done  the  like  to  my  fathers.  How 
then  can  my  right  be  disputed?"3 
In  conclusion,  he  recommended  his 
interests  to  their  loyalty,  and  com- 
manded them  to  "  search  for  to  find, 
in  as  much  as  in  them  was,  all  such 
things  as  might  be  objected  and  laid 
against  the  claim  and  title  of  the  said 
duke."  The  lords  the  next  day  sent 
for  the  judges,  and  ordered  them  to 
defend  to  the  best  of  their  power 
the  king's  claims.  They,  however, 
demanded  to  be  excused.  By  their 
office  they  were  not  to  be  of  counsel 
between  party  and  party,  but  to  judge 
according  to  law  of  such  matters  as 
came  before  them :  but  the  present 
question  was  above  the  law ;  it  apper- 
tained not  to  them;  it  could  be  de- 
cided only  by  the  lords  of  the  king's 
blood  and  the  high  court  of  parlia- 
ment. An  order  was  then  made  for 
the  attendance  of  the  king's  Serjeants 
and  attorneys;  they  also  presented 
their  excuses,  which,  however,  were 
not  admitted,  because  by  their  office 
they  were  bound  to  give  advice  to 
the  crown. 


1  Rot.  Parl.  v.  375.    In  this  instrument 
he  calls  himself  Richard  Plantagenet. 
a  Blackm.  305. 


After  several  debates,  in  which  each 
lord  gave  his  opinion  with  apparent 
freedom,  the  following  objections  wero 
sent  to  the  duke:  1.  That  both  ho 
and  the  lords  had  sworn  fealty  to 
Henry,  and  of  course  he  by  his  oath 
was  prevented  from  urging,  they  by 
theirs  from  admitting,  his  claim: 
a  That  many  acts,  passed  by  divers 
parliaments  of  the  king's  progenitors, 
might  be  opposed  to  the  pretensions 
of  the  house  of  Clarence,  which  acts 
"  have  been  of  authority  to  defeat  any 
manner  of  title:"  3.  That  several 
entails  had  been  made  of  the  crown 
to  the  heirs  male,  whereas  he  claimed 
by  descent  from  females :  4.  That  he 
did  not  bear  the  arms  of  Lionel  the 
third,  but  of  Edmund,  the  fifth  son  of 
Edward  III. ;  and  5.  That  Henry  IV. 
had  declared  that  he  entered  on  the 
throne  as  the  true  heir  of  Henry  III. 
To  the  three  first  objections  the  duke's 
counsel  replied :  that  as  priority  01 
descent  was  evidently  in  his  favour, 
it  followed  that  the  right  to  the  crown 
was  his;  which  right  could  not  be 
defeated  by  oaths  or  acts  of  parlia- 
ment, or  entails.  Indeed,  the  only 
entail  made  to  the  exclusion  of 
females  was  that  of  the  seventh  year 
of  Henry  IV.,  and  would  never  have 
been  thought  of  had  that  prince 
claimed  under  the  customary  law  of 
descents;  that  the  reason  why  he 
had  not  hitherto  taken  the  arms 
of  Lionel  was  the  same  as  had  pre- 
vented him  from  claiming  the  crown, 
the  danger  to  which  such  a  proceed- 
ing would  have  exposed  him;  and 
lastly,  that  if  Henry  IV.  pronounced 
himself  the  rightful  heir  of  Henry 
III.,  he  asserted  what  he  knew  to  be 
untrue.  As,  however,  the  principal 
reliance  of  his  adversaries  was  on  the 
oaths  which  he  had  taken,  and  which 
it  was  contended  were  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  surrender  of  his  right  by 
his  own  act,  he  contended  that  no 
oath  contrary  to  truth  and  justice  is 
binding;  tbat  the  virtue  of  an  oath  is 


HENRY  VI. 


fCHAP.  I. 


to  confirm  truth,  and  not  to  impugn 
it;  and  that  as  the  obligation  of  oaths 
is  a  subject  for  the  determination  of 
the  spiritual  tribunals,  he  was  willing 
to  answer  in  any  such  court  all  man- 
ner of  men,  who  should  bring  forward 
his  oath  in  bar  of  his  claim. 

At  length  the  lords  resolved  that 
the  title  of  the  duke  of  York  could 
not  be  defeated ;  yet  they  refused  to 
proceed  to  the  next  step  of  dethroning 
the  king.  To  "  save  their  oaths  and 
clear  their  consciences,"  they  pro- 
posed a  compromise ;  that  Henry 
should  possess  the  crown  for  the  term 
of  his  natural  life,  and  that  the  duke 
and  his  heirs  should  succeed  to  it 
after  Henry's  death.  To  this  both 
parties  agreed.  The  duke  and  his 
two  sons,  the  earls  of  March  and  Rut- 
land, swore  not  to  molest  the  king, 
but  to  maintain  him  on  the  throne  ; 
and  Henry  gave  the  royal  assent  to 
the  bill,  declaring  the  duke  heir 
apparent,  allotting  certain  estates  to 
him  and  his  sons  on  that  account, 
and  pronouncing  any  attempt  against 
his  person  a  crime  of  high  treason. 
On  the  conclusion  of  this  important 
affair,  the  king,  with  the  crown  on 
his  head,  and  attended  by  the  duke  as 
heir  apparent,  rode  in  state  to  make 
his  thanksgiving  at  St.  Paul's.1 

But  though  the  unfortunate  mon- 
arch had  consented  to  surrender  the 
interests  of  his  son,  they  were  still 
upheld  by  the  queen,  and  the  lords 
who  had  always  adhered  to  the  house 
of  Lancaster.  The  earl  of  North- 
umberland, the  lords  Clifford,  Dacres, 
and  Neville,  assembled  an  army  at 
York ;  and  the  duke  of  Somerset  and 
the  earl  of  Devon  joined  them  with 


1  Rot.  Parl.  375—383.  From  the  history 
of  this  controversy,  as  it  is  entered  on  the 
Rolls,  it  is  plain  that  both  the  feelings  and 
the  opinions  of  the  lords  were  in  favour  of 
Henry.  The  original  defect  in  his  descent 
had  been  supplied  by  the  consent  of  the 
nation,  the  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
crown  by  his  family  during  sixty  years,  and 
the  numerous  oaths  of  fealty  taken  by  all 
aien,  even  his  very  competitor.  No  con- 


their  tenants  from  those  counties. 
This  union  alarmed  the  victorious 
party ;  York  and  Salisbury  hastened 
to  anticipate  their  designs;  and  though 
Somerset  surprised  the  vanguard  of 
the  Yorkists  at  Worksop,  they  reached 
before  Christmas  the  strong  castle  of 
Sandal.  Whether  it  were  that  the 
duke  of  York  was  compelled  to  send 
out  strong  parties  to  forage,  or  that 
his  pride  could  not  brook  the  taunt* 
of  his  enemies,  he  met  them  with 
inferior  forces  near  \Yakefield,  and 
was  either  killed  in  the  battle,  or 
taken  and  beheaded  on  the  spot. 
Two  thousand  of  his  men,  with  most 
of  their  leaders,  remained  on  the 
field;  and  the  earl  of  Salisbury  was 
taken  during  the  night,  and  decapi- 
tated the  next  day  at  Pontefract. 
But  no  one  was  more  lamented  than 
the  earl  of  Rutland,  who  had  only 
reached  his  eighteenth  year.8  Ac- 
companied by  one  to  whose  care  he 
had  been  intrusted,  he  fled  from  the 
conflict,  but  was  stopped  on  the  bridge 
of  Wakefield.  When  he  was  asked 
his  name,  unable  to  speak  through 
terror,  lie  fell  on  his  knees ;  and  his 
attendant,  thinking  to  save  him,  said 
that  he  was  the  son  of  the  duke. 
"Then,"  exclaimed  Clifford,  "as  thy 
father  slew  mine,  so  will  I  slay  thee, 
and  all  thy  kin,"  and  plunging  his 
dagger  into  the  breast  of  the  young 
prince,  bade  the  tutor  go,  and  bear 
the  news  to  the  boy's  mother.  The 
queen  on  her  arrival  was  presented 
with  the  head  of  her  enemy,  the  duke, 
and  ordered  it  to  be  encircled  with  a 
diadem  of  paper,  and  placed  on  the 
walls  of  York.3 
From  this  moment  the  war  assumed 


siderations  could  induce  them  to  dethrone 
him  ;  all  that  could  be  extorted  from  them 
by  the  victorious  party  was  a  compromise, 
which  secured  the  crown  to  Henry  during 
his  life,  and  then  took  it  from  his  son,  to 
whom  they  had  never  sworn  fealty,  and  gave 
it  to  another  branch  of  the  royal  family 

a  He  was  born  17th  May,  1413.— Wyrcest. 

»  Rot.  Parl.  v.  466.  V/yrcest.  484,  485. 
Whetham.  489.  Con.  Croyl.  530.  Hall,  183 


A.D.  14G1.] 


Til*,  UATTLE  OF  ST.  ALB  AH 'S. 


a  new  character;  and  the  thirst  for 
revenge  gave  to  the  combatants  of 
each  party  a  ferocity  to  which  they 
had  hitherto  been  strangers.  Edward 
earl  of  March,  and  heir  to  the  late 
duke  of  York,  was  at  Gloucester  when 
he  received  the  melancholy  intelli- 
gence of  the  fate  of  his  father  and 
brother;  and  having  completed  his 
levies,  hastened  to  interpose  an  army 
between  the  royalists  and  the  capital. 
He  was  closely  followed  by  an  inferior 
force  of  Welsh  and  Irish,  under  the 
king's  uterine  brother  Jasper,  earl  of 
Pembroke ;  but,  apprehensive  of  being 
surrounded,  he  suddenly  faced  about 
and  obtained  the  bloody  victory  of 
Mortimer's  Cros?,  near  "\Vigmore. 
The  royalists  are  said  to  have  lost 
about  four  thousand  men.  Pembroke 
himself  escaped ;  but  his  father,  Owen 
Tudor,  was  taken,  and  with  Throg- 
morton  and  seven  other  captains,  was 
beheaded  at  Hereford,  as  a  sacrifice 
to  the  manes  of  those  who  had  been 
executed  after  the  battle  of  Wake- 
field-1 

While  Edward  was  thus  occupied  in 
the  west,  the  queen  with  her  victorious 
army  advanced  on  the  road  to  London, 
and  met  with  no  opposition  till  she 
had  reached  the  town  of  St.  Alban's, 
It  was  held  by  the  earl  of  Warwick, 
who  had  drawn  up  his  troops  on  the 
low  hills  to  the  south.  The  royalists 
penetrated  as  far  as  the  market  cross, 
but  were  repulsed  by  a  strong  body 
of  archers.  They  next  forced  their 
way  by  another  street  as  far  as  Barnet 
Heath,  where,  after  a  long  conflict, 
they  put  to  flight  the  men  of  Kent. 
Night  saved  the  Yorkists  from  utter 
destruction.  They  separated  and 
fled  in  different  directions,  leaving  the 
king  in  his  tent  under  the  care  of  the 


lord  Montague,  his  chamberlain.  He 
was  soon  visited  by  Margaret  and  his 
son,  and  embraced  them  with  trans- 
ports of  joy.  There  fell  in  this  battle 
about  two  thousand  men.  The  next 
day  the  lord  Bonville  and  Sir  Thomas 
Kyriel  were  beheaded,  in  retaliation 
for  the  executions  at  Hereford.2 

Thus  by  another  unexpected  revo- 
lution Henry  was  restored  to  his 
friends,  and  placed  at  the  head  of  a 
victorious  army.  Could  he  have  con- 
ducted that  army  immediately  to  the 
capital,  the  citizens  must  have  opened 
the  gates ;  but  his  soldiers  were  prin- 
cipally borderers,  accustomed  to  live 
by  rapine,  and  had  been  allured  to 
the  royal  standard  by  the  promise  of 
plunder.  No  entreaty  could  prevail 
on  them  to  march  forward ;  no  pro- 
hibition prevent  them  from  dispersing 
to  pillage  the  country;  and  the  neces- 
sity of  protecting  their  property  at- 
tached to  the  banners  of  the  house  of 
York  the  citizens  of  London  and  the 
inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  coun- 
ties. Henry  announced  by  procla- 
mation that  his  assent  to  the  late 
award  had  been  extorted  by  violence, 
and  issued  orders  for  the  immediate 
arrest  of  Edward,  late  earl  of  March, 
and  son  to  the  late  duke  of  York.3 
But  Edward  had  now  united  his 
forces  with  those  of  the  earl  of  War- 
wick ;  and  their  superiority  of  num- 
bers induced  the  royalists  to  retire 
with  expedition  into  the  northern 
counties.  They  were  not  pursued. 
Edward  had  a  more  important  object 
in  view,  and  entered  London  Mtb 
all  the  pomp  of  a  victorious  monarch. 
His  youth  (he  was  in  his  nineteenth 
year),  his  .beauty  and  accomplish 
ments,  the  unfortunate  fate  of  his 
father  and  brother,  the  fame  of  his 


1  Wyrcest.  486.     Contin.  Croyl.  550. 

2  Wyrcest.  486.     "Whethamst.  497—501. 
Contin.  Croyl.  550.     It  is  often  said  that 
Bonville  and  Kyriel  attended  the  king,  and 
would   have  fled,  but  were  persuaded  to 
remain  by  Henry,  who  gave  them  his  word 
that  they  should   not  suffer.    These  con- 


temporary writers  do  not  mention  it,  and 
Wyrcester  expressly  asserts  that  it  was  the 
lord  Montague  who  was  taken  with  Henry. 
However,  in  the  act  of  attainder  passed  m 
the  1st  of  Edward  IV.,  it  is  said  they  bad 
received  from  him  a  promise  of  protection. 
— Rot.  Parl.  v.  477.  »  Hot.  Parl.  v.  466. 


VI. 


[CHAP.  t. 


late  success,  and  the  ravages  of  the 
royalists,  conspired  to  multiply  the 
number  of  his  adherents.  To  sound 
the  disposition  of  the  citizens,  the 
lord  Falconberg  reviewed  four  thou- 
sand men  in  the  fields,  and  Neville, 
bishop  of  Exeter,  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  harangue  the  spectators  on 
the  unfounded  claim,  and  the  inca- 
pacity of  Henry,  the  just  title  and 
the  abilities  of  Edward.  The  accla- 
mations which  followed  his  speech 
were  considered  as  a  proof  of  the 
public  feeling;  and  the  next  day  it 
was  resolved,  in  a  great  council, 
that  Henry,  by  joining  the  queen's 
forces,  had  violated  the  award,  and 
forfeited  the  crown  to  Edward,  the 
lieir  of  Richard,  late  duke  of  York. 
A.S  soon  as  this  resolution  was  an- 
nounced, the  prince  rode  in  pro- 
cession to  Westminster  Hall,  and 
mounting  the  throne,  explained  to 
the  audience  the  rights  of  his  family. 
He  then  entered  the  church,  repeated 
his  speech,  and  on  both  occasions  was 
frequently  interrupted  with  cries  of 
"  Long  live  King  Edward."  He  was 
immediately  proclaimed  in  the  usual 
style  by  the  heralds  in  different  parts 
of  the  city.1 

On  that  day  expired  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI.,  a  prince  whose  personal 
character  commanded  the  respect  of 
his  very  enemies,  and  whose  misfor- 
tunes still  claim  the  sympathy  of  the 
reader.  He  was  virtuous,  and  reli- 
gious; humane,  forgiving,  and  bene- 
volent; but  nature  had  refused  him 
that  health  of  body  and  fortitude  of 
mind  which  would  have  enabled  him 
to  struggle  through  the  peculiar  dif- 
ficulties of  his  situation.  It  would  be 
unjust  to  ascribe  those  difficulties  to 
liis  misconduct;  they  arose  from 
causes  ovar  which  he  had  no  con- 
trol,—the  original  defect  in  his  title, 
the  duration  of  his  minority,  the  dis- 


sensions of  his  uncles,  and  the  fre- 
quent recurrence  of  corporal  debility, 
generally  accompanied  with  the  priva- 
tion of  reason.  Some  of  these  causes, 
however,  gave  birth  to  proceedings 
most  interesting  to  those  who  wish 
to  investigate  the  principles  of  our 
ancient  constitution.  From  them  it 
appears  that,  though  the  king,  in  the 
case  of  temporary  absence  from  the 
realm,  might  appoint  a  regent  witlj 
delegated  authority  during  his  ab- 
sence, yet  he  could  not,  without  tho 
concurrence  of  the  three  estates,  pro- 
vide for  the  government  during  the 
minority  of  his  successor ;  that  when- 
ever the  reigning  monarch,  either 
through  extreme  youth  or  mental 
disease,  was  incapable  of  performing 
the  functions  of  royalty,  the  exercise 
of  his  authority  devolved  exclusively 
on  the  house  of  lords,  who  appointed 
the  great  officers  of  state  and  the 
members  of  the  council,  giving  to 
them  powers  to  transact  the  ordi- 
nary business  of  government,  but 
resuming  those  powers  as  often  as 
they  themselves  were  assembled 
either  in  parliament  or  in  a  great 
council ;  and  that  the  recognition  of 
these  doctrines  was  required  from 
the  first  princes  of  the  blood,  the 
dukes  of  Bedford,  Gloucester,  and 
York,  who  at  different  times  acknow- 
ledged that,  during  the  king's  mino- 
rity or  incapacity,  they  were  entitled 
to  no  more  authority  than  any  other 
peer,  unless  it  were  conferred  upon 
them  by  the  whole  body.2  For  the 
same  reason,  when  the  succession  to 
the  crown  was  disputed,  the  claims  of 
each  party  were  brought  before  the 
house  of  lords,  as  the  only  legitimate 
tribunal  which  possessed  the  autho- 
rity to  pronounce  on  so  important  a 
question.  The  commons  neither  pre- 
sumed, nor  would  have  been  suf- 
fered to  interfere.  They  might  indeed 


»  Contin.  Croyl.  550.  Whetbara.  511,  514. 
VYjrce&t.  483,  499. 


8  See  Eot.  Parl.  iv.  326  j  T.  542, 


A.D.  1461.] 


EIGHTS  OF  THE  COMMOJNS. 


represent  the  urgency  of  the  case  to 
the  upper  house,  might  ask  to.be 
made  acquainted  with  its  resolutions, 
and,  if  an  act  of  parliament  were 
necessary,  might  give  their  assent; 
but  the  nomination  of  the  protector 
and  the  counsellors  was  made,  and 
their  powers  were  determined  by  the 
peers  alone ;  and  the  functions  of  the 
two  houses  were  accurately  distin- 
guished in  the  language  of  the  sta- 
tutes, which  attribute  the  appoint- 
ment to  the  king  by  the  advice  and 
assent  of  the  lords,  and  with  the  as- 
sent only  of  the  commons.1 

The  commons,  however,  during 
this  reign  were  careful  to  maintain 
that  importance  in  the  state  which 
they  had  inherited  from  their  prede- 
cessors. They  continued  to  vote  and 
appropriate  the  supplies;  their  con- 
currence was  deemed  necessary  in 
the  enactment  of  statutes ;  and  they 
exercised  the  right  of  impeaching 
those  ministers  who  had  forfeited  the 
confidence  of  the  nation.  If  they 
suffered  their  claims  of  liberty  of 
speech  and  freedom  from  arrest  to  be 
invaded  by  the  imprisonment  of 
Thorpe  through  the  influence  of  the 
duke  of  York,  and  of  Young  by  the 
order  of  the  king,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  these  illegal  acts  were  com- 
mitted when  the  minds  of  men  were 
heated  by  a  contest  for  the  crown, 
and  therefore  could  form  no  prece- 
dents for  more  peaceable  times.  From 
Henry  the  commons  obtained  what 
had  been  refused  or  eluded  by  former 
sovereigns,  a  law  for  the  personal 
security  of  all  members  of  parliament 
while  they  attended  their  duty  ;2  and 
several  statutes  were  enacted  to  re- 
gulate the  manner  of  elections,  to 


prevent  false  returns,  and  to  fix  tho 
qualifications  both  of  the  candidates 
and  the  voters.  The  sheriff  was  or 
dered  to  proceed  to  the  election  in 
the  first  county  court  after  the  receipt 
of  the  king's  writ,  between  the  hours 
of  nine  and  eleven  in  the  morning ; 
to  admit  no  longer  the  votes  of  all 
who  attended,  but  to  examine  them 
upon  oath,  and  to  exclude  those  who 
did  not  both  reside  in  the  county, 
and  possess  within  it  a  free  tenement 
of  the  yearly  value  of  forty  shillings 
after  the  deduction  of  all  charges ;  to 
return  no  candidate  who  was  not  a 
knight,  "  or  notable  esquire,  or  gentle- 
man of  birth,  able  to  be  a  knight ;" 
and  to  write  the  names  of  the  persons 
returned  in  an  indenture  under  the 
seals  of  all  the  voters.  It  was  also 
provided  that  the  representatives  of 
the  cities  and  burghs  should  be  inha- 
bitants of  the  same  cities  and  burghs ; 
that  when  the  mayors  or  bailiffs  made 
the  return  to  the  sheriff,  he  should 
give  them  his  receipt;  and  that  for 
every  false  return  he  should  be  liable 
to  imprisonment,  to  a  fine  to  the  king, 
and  to  payment  of  damages  to  the  in- 
jured candidate.3 

The  hereditary  revenue  of  the 
crown  had  during  several  reigns  been 
continually  on  the  decrease ;  under 
Henry  it  was  more  rapidly  diminished 
by  the  enormous  expenses  incurred 
during  the  war  in  France,  and  by  the 
numerous  grants  which  were  easily 
obtained  from  the  benevolence  of  his 
disposition.  In  1429  it  was  ascer- 
tained that  the  moneys  annually  ab- 
sorbed by  the  war  exceeded  the  whole 
amount  of  the  revenue  by  twenty 
thousand  marks,4  and  four  years  later 
the  receipts  fell  short  of  the  expenses 


. 

2  Rot.  Parl.  iv.  453.  The  same  privileges 
were  granted  to  the  clergy  called  to  con- 
vocation, and  to  their  servants  by  act  of 
parliament,  of  the  8th  of  the  king.— Stat.  of 
Ilcalm,  ii.  238. 

*  Rot.  Parl.  iv.  331,  350,  402;  v.  7,  115. 

*  Eym.   x.   413.     The   receipts    in    the 


eleventh  year  of  Henry  amounted  to  about 
thirty-five  thousand  pounds ;  but  this  sum 
was  reduced  to  less  than  one-fourth  by  fees, 
wages,  and  annuities,  which  had  been 
granted  by  the  crown  to  different  indivi- 
duals, and  had  been  made  payable  out  of 
these  funds,  before  they  were  transferred  to 
the  royal  treasury.  But  to  the  ordinary 
F  2 


VI. 


.  CHAP,  i, 


of  government  by  the  yearly  sum  of 
thirty-five  thousand  pounds;  to  which 
were  to  be  added  the  outstanding 
debts  of  the  crown,  amounting  to 
more  than  one  hundred  and  forty- 
four  thousand.'  The  only  mode  of 
relief  which  occurred  to  the  finan- 
ciers of  the  age  was  a  general  resump- 
tion of  the  grants  made  by  the  king 
since  his  accession ;  but,  though  such 
resumptions  wore  repeatedly  enacted, 
they  were  always  rendered  nugatory 
by  the  introduction  of  exceptions,  at 
the  demand  of  the  king,  or  of  the 
members,  who  sought  to  screen  their 
friends  from  the  operation  of  the  act.2 
In  the  mean  while  the  ordinary  re- 
venue of  the  crown  dwindled  to  the 


must  be  added  the  extraordinary  revenue, 
which  consisted  of  the  customs  on  wool  and 
skins,  and  the  tonnage  and  poundage, 
which,  though  not  always,  yet  generally, 
were  granted  by  parliament.  'This,  after  the 
usual  deductions  had  been  made,  amounted 
on  an  average  of  three  years  to  about 
twenty-seven  thousand  pounds.  The  annual 
expenses  to  be  defrayed  by  these  funds  were 
Biased  under  the  heads  of  the  household 


paltry  sum  of  five  thousand  pounds  ; 
and  it  became  necessary  to  make  par- 
liamentary provisions  for  the  support 
of  the  royal  household.  This  was 
effected  on  some  occasions  by  autho- 
rizing the  treasurer  to  devote  to  that 
purpose  a  certain  sum  out  of  the 
moneys  voted  for  different  objects ;  at 
others  by  appropriating  a  certain 
portion  of  the  revenue  to  the  royal 
use  before  any  other  claims  upon  it 
should  be  satisfied.3  In  defiance, 
however,  of  these  precautions,  the 
king's  debts  continued  to  increase, 
and  long  before  the  termination  of 
his  reign  they  amounted  to  the  sum 
of  three  hundred  and  seventy-two 
thousand  pounds.4 


about  13,7002. ;  of  the  government  of  Ire- 
land, Aquitaine,  and  the  marches  of  Scot- 
land, 10,9002. ;  of  Calais,  11,0002.;  of  the 
navy,  prisoners,  &c.,  3,7002.;  of  fees  and 
annuities  payable  at  the  exchequer,  11,1502. ; 
and  other  annuities  at  will,  5,5001. — Rot. 
Parl.  iv.  433—438.  1  Ibid.  436—438. 

»  Ibid.  v.  1H3— 199,  217—224,  300—320. 

3  Ibid.  v.  7,  33,  174,  214,  246. 

*  Rot.  Porl.  v.  183,  217. 


CHAPTER  II. 
EDWARD    IV. 

CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


Erne,  qf  Genn. 
Frederic  III. 

I 

E.  of  Scotland. 
James  III. 

Po 
>ius  II.,  1464.        Paul 

JT.  qf  France. 
Charles  VII..  ..1461 
Louis  XI. 

pes. 
II.,  1471.        Sixtus  IT 

.2".  of  Spain, 
Henry  IV.  ...  ,1474 
Isabella      > 
Ferdinand  > 

BDWARD  IS  CROWNED  —  MISFORTUNES  OF  THE  LANCASTRIANS  —  HENRY  VI.  IS 
MADE  PRISONER EDWARD'S  MARRIAGE INSURRECTION THE  KING  IMPRI- 
SONED BY  THE  NEVILLES HIS  RELEASE ANOTHER  INSURRECTION — CLARENCE 

AND     WARWICK     LEAVE     THE     REALM — RETURN EXPEL    EDWARD — AND    RESTORE 

HENRY EDWARD    RETURNS — HIS    VICTORY    AT    BARNET CAPTURE  AND    DEATH  OP 

HENRY — BATTLE     OP    TEWKSBURY WAR    WITH     FRANCE PEACE ATTAINDER    OP 

CLARENCE DEATH    OF    THE    KING. 


THOUGH  Edward  had  assumed  the 
title  of  king,  he  was  not  ignorant  that 
he  held  it  by  a  very  precarious  tenure. 
The  losses  and  advantages  of  the  two 
parties  were  still  nearly  balanced; 
and  if  he  was  acknoAvledged  by  the 
southern,  his  rival  could  depend  on 
the  support  of  the  northern  counties. 
The  earl  of  "Warwick,  anxious  to 
bring  the  question  to  an  issue, 
marched  from  London  at  the  head 
of  a  body  of  veterans ;  Edward  in  a 
few  days  followed  with  the  main 
army ;  and  by  the  time  of  his  arrival 
at  Pontefract,  forty-nine  thousand 
men  had  arrayed  themselves  under 
his  banner.  The  preparations  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster  were  equally  for- 
midable. The  duke  of  Somerset  with 


sixty  thousand  infantry  and  cavalry 
lay  in  the  neighbourhood  of  York ; 
and  the  queen,  who  with  her  husband 
and  son  had  consented  to  remain 
within  the  city,  employed  all  her 
address  to  confirm  their  loyalty,  and 
animate  their  courage.  Both  armies 
advanced  towards  Ferrybridge.  The 
passage  had  been  gained  by  the  lord 
Fitzwalter  on  the  part  of  Edward;1 
but  that  nobleman  was  surprised  and 
slain  by  Lord  Clifford,  who  within  9. 
few  hours  met  on  the  same  spot  wii£i 
a  similar  fate  from  the  lord  Falconberg. 
The  next  day,  between  the  villages  of 
Towton  and  Saxton,  was  fought  the 
battle  which  fixed  the  crown  on  the 
brow  of  Edward.  The  engagement 
began  at  nine  in  the  morning,  amidst 


1  Who  this  Lord  Fitzwalter  was  is  un- 
known. Monstrelet  makes  him  uncle  to 
Warwick.  The  earl  when  he  heard  of 
Fitzwalter's  death,  exclaimed,  "  Je  prie 
Dieu,  qu'il  ayt  los  ames  do  ceux  qui  sont 
morts  en  cello  bataille.  Beau  sire  Dieu, 
ores  n'ay  je  recours  au  monde  siiion  a  toy, 
qm  es  mon  Createur,  et  mon  Dieu ;  si  te 


requiera  vengeance."  Et  lors,  en  tirant 
son  espe'e,  baisa  la  croix,  et  dit  a  sea  gens, 
"  qui  veult  "etourner,  si  s'en  voise :  car  je 
vivray  ou  mourray  aujourd'huy  avec  ceux  qui 
demeurront  avec  moy."  A  celles  paroles  U 
saillis  a  pied,  et  tua  son  cheval  de  eon  espe'e. 
— Monst.  iii.  8k 


70 

a  heavy  fall  of  snow ;  the  obstinacy  of 
the  combatants  protracted  it  till  three 
in  the  afternoon.  At  that  hour  the 
Lancastrians  began  to  give  way,  at 
first  leisurely  and  in  good  order ;  but 
finding  their  .retreat  interrupted  by 
the  river  Cock,  they  abandoned  them- 
selves to  despair,  and  while  some 
plunged  into  the  torrent,  others  of- 
fered themselves  without  resistance 
to  the  swords  of  the  enemy.  Edward 
had  forbidden  his  followers  to  give 
quarter,  and  as  the  pursuit  and 
slaughter  continued  all  the  night 
and  great  part  of  the  following  day, 
one-half  of  the  Lancastrians  are  said 
to  have  perished.  The  earl  of  North- 
umberland and  six  barons  fell  in  the 
battle ;  the  earls  of  Devon  and  Wilt- 
shire were  taken  in  their  flight  and 
beheaded.  The  dukes  of  Somerset 
and  Exeter  had  the  good  fortune  to 
reach  York,  and  conducted  Henry 
and  his  family  to  the  borders.  The 
victory  was  decisive ;  but  it  cost  the 
nation  a  deluge  of  blood.  Besides 
those  who  perished  in  the  waters,  a 
contemporary  writer  assures  us  that 
thirty-eight  thousand  men  remained 
on  the  field  ;*  nor  can  we  reasonably 
accuse  him  of  exaggeration;  since 
Edward  himself,  in  a  confidential 
letter  to  his  mother,  while  he  con- 
ceals his  own  loss,  informs  her  that 
the  heralds  employed  to  number  the 
dead  bodies,  returned  the  Lancas- 
trians alone  at  twenty-eight  thou- 
sand.2 

From  this  scene  of  carnages  the 
conqueror  rode  towards  York,  which 
he  entered  the  next  morning.  The 
escape  of  Henry  disappointed  his 
hopes  ;  but  during  his  stay  in  the 
city  he  gave  orders  that  several  of 
his  prisoners  should  be  executed,  and 
their  heads  substituted  on  the  walls 


iv. 


[CHAP.  II. 


for  those  of  his  father  and  brother. 
From  York  he  proceeded  to  New- 
castle, receiving  in  his  progress  the 
homage  of  the  inhabitants,  and 
watching  the  motions  of  the  fugi- 
tives. Henry,  to  purchase  the  aid 
of  the  Scots,  had  delivered  to  them 
the  town  of  Berwick,  and,  while  they 
with  a  powerful  army  undertook  the 
reduction  of  Carlisle,  penetrated  with 
a  few  faithful  friends  into  the  county 
of  Durham.  He  narrowly  escaped 
being  taken  by  the  superior  number 
of  his  enemies;  and  Carlisle  was  re- 
lieved by  the  lord  Montague,  who 
slew  six  thousand  of  the  besiegers. 
Edward,  who  had  already  left  the 
theatre  of  war,  and  hastened  to  Lon- 
don, was  crowned  at  Westminster 
with  the  usual  solemnity,  and  created 
his  two  younger  brothers,  George  and 
Richard,  who  had  returned  from  their 
asylum  in  Flanders,  dukes  of  Clarence 
and  Gloucester.3 

When  the  parliament  assembled, 
both  houses  were  eager  to  display 
their  attachment  to  their  new  sove- 
reign. They  first  pronounced  the 
reigns  of  the  three  last  kings  a 
tyrannical  usurpation,  and  declared 
that  Edward  had  been  rightfully 
seised  of  the  crown  and  the  profits 
of  the  realm,  from  the  fourth  day  of 
March  last,  in  the  same  manner  as 
they  had  been  enjoyed  by  Richard  II. 
on  the  feast  of  St.  Matthew  in  the 
twenty-third  year  of  his  reign.  With 
certain  exceptions,  the  grants  of 
Henry  IV.,  V.,  and  VI.  were  re- 
voked, but  their  judicial  acts  were 
ratified,  and  the  titles  of  honour 
which  they  had  conferred  were  al- 
lowed.4 Next  followed  a  long  and 
sweeping  bill  of  attainder,  which 
extended  to  almost  every  man  who 
had  distinguished  himself  in  the 


1  Cont.  Hist.  Croyl.  533. 

2  Perm's  Letters,  i.  217—220. 

«  Hall,  86—89.    Monstrel.  iii.  84.    Kym. 
xi.  476.    Fenn,  i.  230-235. 


*  Hot.  Parl.  v.  463—475,  489.  Stat.  of 
Realm,  ii.  380.  But  the  titles  were  allowed 
only  on  condition  that  the  holders  should 
receive  from  the  king  new  grants  of  the 
annuities  attached  to  them. — Ibid. 


A.D.  1161.] 


THE  KING'S  SPEECH. 


cause  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 
Henry  VI.,  his  queen,  their  son 
Edward,  the  dukes  of  Somerset  and 
Exeter,  the  earls  of  Northumberland, 
Devon,  Wiltshire,  and  Pembroke,  the 
viscount  Beaumont,  the  lords  Roos, 
Neville,  E-ougemonte,  Dacre,  and 
Hungerford,  with  one  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  knights,  priests,  and 
esquires,  were  adjudged  to  suffer  all 
the  penalties  of  treason,  the  loss  of 
their  honours,  the  forfeiture  of  their 
estates,  and  an  ignominious  death  if 
they  had  not  already  fallen  in  the  field 
of  battle.1  In  defence  of  such  unex- 
ampled severity  was  alleged  the  ad- 
vantage of  annihilating  at  once  the 
power  of  the  party;  and  to  this  motive 
was  probably  added  another,  the  ne- 
cessity of  providing  funds,  from  which 
Edward  might  satisfy  the  demands 
and  expectations  of  those  to  whose 
services  he  owed  the  present  posses- 
sion of  the  crown.  Before  he  dis- 
solved the  parliament  he  addressed 
the  commons  in  the  following  terms : 
•"  James  Strangways "  (he  was  the 
speaker),  "and  ye  that  be  come  for 
the  commons  of  this  land,  for  the  true 
Learts  and  tender  considerations  that 
ye  have  had  to  my  right  and  tit)  3,  I 
thank  you  as  heartily  as  I  can.  Also 
for  the  tender  and  true  hearts  that  ye 
have  showed  unto  me,  in  that  ye  have 
tenderly  had  in  remembrance  the 
correction  of  the  horrible  murder  and 
cruel  death  of  my  lord  my  father,  my 
brother  Rutland,  and  my  cousin  of 
Salisbury,  and  other,  I  thank  you 
right  heartily,  and  I  shafl  be  unto  you, 
with  the  grace  of  Almighty  God,  as 
good  and  gracious  sovereign  lord  as 
«ver  was  any  of  my  noble  progenitors 
to  their  subjects  and  liegemen.  And 


for  the  faithful  and  loving  hearts,  and 
also  the  great  labours  that  ye  have 
borne  and  sustained  toward  me  in 
the  recovering  of  my  said  right  and 
title  which  I  now  possess,  I  thanir 
you  with  all  my  heart,  and  if  I  had 
any  better  good  to  reward  you  withal 
than  my  body,  ye  should  have  it,  the 
which  shall  always  be  ready  for  your 
defence,  never  sparing  nor  letting  for 
no  jeopardy,  praying  you  all  of  your 
hearty  assistance  and  good  counte- 
nance, as  I  shall  be  unto  you  very 
right  wise,  and  loving  liege  lord."2 

The  cause  of  the  red  rose  now  ap- 
peared desperate ;  but  it  was  stil] 
supported  by  the  courage  and  indus- 
try of  Margaret.  The  surrender  of 
Berwick  had  given  her  a  claim  to 
the  protection  of  the  Scottish  govern- 
ment ;  and  the  promise  of  an  English 
dukedom,  with  lands  to  the  yearly 
value  of  two  thousand  marks,  had 
secured  to  her  the  services  of  the 
powerful  earl  of  Angus;  while  Ed- 
ward, as  a  counterpoise,  purchased 
with  an  annual  pension  the  fealty  of 
the  earl  of  Boss,  lord  of  the  isles,  and 
sought  to  amuse  Mary,  the  queen 
dowager  of  Scotland,3  with  a  deceitful 
offer  of  marriage.4  To  aid  her  cause 
Margaret  resolved  to  visit  the  conti- 
nent, and  invite  all  true  knights  to 
avenge  the  wrongs  of  an  injured 
monarch.  Sailing  from  Kirkcud- 
bright, she  landed  in  Bretagne ; 
and  the  duke  made  the  royal  sup- 
pliant a  present  of  twelve  thousand 
crowns.  Prom  Bretagne  she  repaired 
to  the  French  court  at  Chinon. 
Louis  XI.  (his  father  Charles  was 
lately  dead)  seemed  insensible  to  the 
tears  of  beauty,  and  the  claims  of 
relationship;  but,  when  she  offered 


1  Rot.  Parl.  v.  476—486.   In  the  February 
following,  the    earl    of    Oxford,    the    lord 
Aubrey,  and  three  knights  of  the  Lancas- 
trian party  were  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill. 
— Fabyan,  652. 

2  Ibid.  487.     In  this  parliament  it  was 
oracted  that  no  lord  or  other  should  allow 
playing    at    dice   or    curdd     in    his    house 


or  elsewhere  if  he  could  hinder  it,  except 
during  the  twelve  days  at  Christmas.— 
Ibid.  488. 

3  Her  husband  James  II.  had  been  acci- 
dentally killed  in  1460  by  the  bursting  of  a 
cannon. 

4  Hume,  Douglas,  ii.  21.    Kym.  xi.  484— 
483.    Wyrcest.  403 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAP.  jr. 


Calais  as  a  security,  he  lent  her 
twenty  thousand  crowns,  and  per- 
mitted Breze,  the  seneschal  of  Nor- 
mandy, to  follow  her  fortunes  with 
two  thousand  men.  After  an  absence 
of  five  months  she  returned,  eluded 
the  pursuit  of  the  English  fleet,  and 
summoned  to  her  standard  her  Scot- 
tish allies  on  the  borders,  and  the 
friends  of  her  family  in  Northumber- 
land. Her  hopes  were  cheered  with 
a  temporary  gleam  of  success.  Three 
strong  fortresses,  Bamborough,  Aln- 
wick,  and  Dunstanburgh,  fell  into  her 
hands.1  But  when  the  earl  of  War- 
wick arrived  with  twenty  thousand 
men,  and  intelligence  was  received  of 
the  advance  of  Edward  with  an  equal 
number,  the  Lancastrians  separated 
to  garrison  their  conquests,  and  the 
queen  with  her  French  auxiliaries 
repaired  to  their  ships.  The  winds 
and  the  waves  now  seemed  to  have 
conspired  against  her;  part  of  her 
fleet  with  all  her  treasures  was 
dashed  against  tho  rocks ;  five  hun- 
dred foreigners,  who  intrenched 
themselves  in  Holy  Island,  were 
killed  or  made  prisoners  by  the  lord 
Ogle;  and  Margaret  and  Breze  in  a 
fishing-boat  carried  the  melancholy 
intelligence  to  their  friends  in  Ber- 
wick. Edward  proceeded  no  further 
than  Newcastle.  He  laboured  under 
diseases  caused  by  immoderate  indul- 
gence. But  Warwick,  dividing  the 
royal  army  into  three  bodies,  besieged 
at  the  same  time  the  three  fortresses, 
which  made  a  brave  and  obstinate 


resistance.2  At  length  Bamborough 
and  Dunstanburgh  were  surrendered, 
on  condition  that  the  duke  of  Somer- 
set, Sir  Ralph  Percy,  and  some  others, 
should  take  an  oath  of  fealty  to  Ed- 
ward and  recover  their  estates  and 
honours,  and  that  the  earl  of  Pem- 
broke, the  lord  Roos,  and  tho  rest  of 
the  two  garrisons  should  be  conducted 
in  safety  to  Scotland.3  Alnwick  still 
bade  defiance  to  the  besiegers ;  and  an 
army  of  Lancastrians  advanced  ap- 
parently to  its  relief.  Warwick  drew 
up  his  forces  to  receive  them  ;  but 
the  lord  Hungerford,  the  son  of 
Breze,  and  a  few  knights  having 
cut  their  way  to  their  friends  in  a 
sally  from  the  walls,  Margaret's  army 
retired,  and  the  garrison,  deserted  by 
its  leaders,  capitulated.  Edward  was 
satisfied  with  the  conduct  of  Somerset 
and  Percy  on  this  occasion.  He  re- 
pealed their  attainders  with  the  con- 
sent of  parliament,  restored  to  them 
their  land*,  granted  a  pension  of  one 
hundred  marks  to  Somerset,  and  re- 
established Percy  in  the  possession 
of  Bamborough  and  Dunstanburgh. 
But  Alnwick  was  given  to  Sir  John 
Ashley,  to  the  great  offence  of  Sir 
Ralph  Grey,  a  partisan  of  the 
Yorkists,  who  had  formerly  won  it 
for  Edward,  arid  now  expected  to 
possess  it  again.4 

The  spirit  and  activity  of  Margaret 
exposed  her  during  this  winter  cam- 
paign to  numerous  privations  and 
dangers.  On  one  occasion  it  is  said 
that,  as  she  was  riding  secretly  with 


1  Wyrcest.  493,  494.     Duclos,  Hist,  of 
Lou.  XI.    Monstrel.  iii.  95. 

2  Fab.  493.     Fenn,  i.  273—279.    Stowe, 
416. 

3  The  reason  of  this  difference  was  that 
the  king  had  it  not  in  his  power  to  restore 
the  lands  of  the  latter,  because  they  had 
been  given  away  to  his  friends.   So  I  under- 
stand Wyrcester,  495. 

*  Wyrcest.  494—496.  Hot.  Parl.  v.  511. 
In  this  parliament  tonnage  and  poundage 
were  granted  to  the  king  for  the  term  of  his 
natural  life.  By  tonnage  was  understood  a 
duty  on  every  ton  of  wine  imported  as  mer 


chandise  ;  by  poundage  an  ad  valorem  duty 
on  exports  and  imports.  The  object  was 
' '  the  safeguard  and  custody  of  the  sea.''  At 
first  this  tax  was  voted  only  on  particular 
occasions,  and  for  a  very  short  time.  But  a 
vote  for  life  was  too  valuable  a  precedent  to 
be  forgotten;  succeeding  monarchs  were 
careful  to  have  it  copied  in  their  first  par- 
liament ;  and  then,  as  much  time  inter- 
vened before  the  meeting  of  the  first  par- 
liament, the  duties  were  made  payable  from 
the  very  first  day  of  that  meeting,  and 
afterwards  from  the  day  of  the  accession  of 
the  new  king.— See  Stat.  of  Realm,  ii.  21, 
433;  iii.  21;  iv.  22,  218.  382. 


A.D.  iiGS.J 


BATTLE  OF  IIEDGELEY  MOOR. 


her  son  and  the  seneschal  through  a 
wild  and  mountainous  district,  they 
were  surprised  by  a  party  of  banditti, 
who  despoiled  them  of  their  money, 
jewels,  and  every  other  article  of 
value.  It  is  probable  that  the  queen 
concealed  her  quality,  or  such  dis- 
tinguished captives  would  have  been 
more  carefully  guarded.  The  ruilians 
quarrelled  about  the  partition  of  the 
booty;  menaces  were  uttered,  and 
swords  drawn,  when  Margaret,  watch- 
ing her  opportunity,  grasped  her  son 
by  the  arm,  and  plunged  into  the 
thickest  part  of  the  wood.  She  had 
not  proceeded  far  when  another  rob- 
ber made  his  appearance.  The  queen, 
with  the  intrepidity  of  despair,  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him ;  and  taking 
the  young  Edsvard  by  the  hand, 
"Friend,"  said  she,  "I  intrust  to 
your  loyalty  the  son  of  your  king." 
This  address  awakened  his  generosity. 
He  took  them  both  under  his  pro- 
tection, and  conducted  them  to  the 
quarters  of  the  Lancastrians.1  Henry 
for  security  had  been  conveyed  to  the 
castle  of  Hardlough,  in  Merioneth- 
shire, commanded  by  David  ap  Jevan 
ap  Eynion,  who  in  defiance  of  repeated 
acts  of  attainder  refused  to  submit  to 
Edward;2  the  queen,  accompanied  by 
the  duke  of  Exeter,  Breze,  and  two 
hundred  exiles,  sailed  td  Sluys,  in 
Flanders,  and  was  received  with  real 
kindness  by  the  count  of  Charolois, 
and  with  outward  distinction  by  his 
father,  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  To 
her  solicitations  in  favour  of  her 
husband  that  prince  refused  to  listen; 
but  he  gave  her  a  supply  of  money  for 
her  present  expenses,  and  forwarded 
her  in  safety  as  far  as  the  duchy  of 
Bar,  in  Lorrain,  belonging  to  her 


father.  There  she  fixed  her.  resi- 
dence, watching  with  anxiety  the 
course  of  events,  and  consoling  her 
sorrows  with  the  hope  of  yet  placing 
her  husband  or  her  son  on  the  Eng- 
lish throne.3 

The  Lancastrians,  though  by  the 
conclusion  of  an  armistice  with 
France  and  another  with  Burgundy 
Edward  had  cut  off  the  hope  of 
foreign  assistance,4  resolved  to  try 
again  the  fortune  of  war.  Henry 
was  summoned  to  put  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  body  of  exiles  and 
Scots;  Somerset,  notwithstanding  his 
submission,  hastened  from  his  own 
country,  through  Wales  and  Lan- 
cashire, to  join  his  former  friends; 
Percy  assembled  all  the  adherents  of 
his  family;  and  the  resentment  of 
Grey  prompted  him  to  surprise  the 
castle  of  Alnwick,  and  to  hold  it 
against  Edward.  But  their  designs 
were  disconcerted  by  the  promptitude 
of  Neville  Lord  Montague,  the  war- 
den of  the  east  marches.  He  defeated 
and  killed  Percy  at  Hedgley  Moor, 
near  Wooler,5  and  advanced  with 
four  thousand  men  to  surprise  Somer- 
set in  his  camp  on  the  banks  of  the 
Dilswater,  near  Hexham.  That  un- 
fortunate nobleman,  whose  forces  did 
not  exceed  five  hundred  men,  en- 
deavoured to  save  himself  by  flight, 
but  was  taken,  beheaded  the  same 
day,  and  buried  in  the  abbey.  Two 
days  later  the  lords  Boos  and  Hun- 
gerford  met  with  the  same  fate  on  the 
Sandhill  at  Newcastle ;  and  many  of 
their  followers  were  successively  exe- 
cuted in  that  town  and  at  York.6  Of 
those  who  escaped,  the  major  part 
followed  Grey  to  the  castle  of  Barn- 
borough,  which  was  immediately 


1  Monstrel.  iii.  29. 

2  Rot.  Parl.  v.  496,  512.    Monstrelet  says 
that   Henry  was   in  Wales  in   one   of  the 
strongest  fortresses  in  the  island.    I  have 
therefore  placed  him  at  Hardlough.— Monst. 
iii.  96. 

3  Wyrcest.  496,  497.     It  was  said  that  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  gave  to  her  2,COO  crowns, 


1,000  to  Brez<5,  and  one  hundred  to  each  of 
her  maids. — Monst.  iii.  96. 
*  Eym.  x.  508. 

5  The  others  fled;  Percy  refused,  "and 
died  like  a  man."     Come  home  fuit  occ-ise. 
—Year-book,  Term.  Pasch.  4  Ed.  IV.  19. 

6  Wyrcest.   597,   493.     Fab.   49i.     Ft-un, 
i.  2S4. 


71 


ED  WARD  IV. 


[CHAP,  jr. 


besieged   by  the   earl   of  Warwick. 
Bamborough  had   been    deemed  an 
impregnable  fortress;  but  Warwick 
had  brought  with  him  two  of  the 
king's  largest  iron  cannon,  called  the 
Newcastle  and  London,  with  which 
he  demolished   its   defences;  and  a 
brass   piece   called   Dyssyon,   which 
"  smote  thoroughe  Sir  Rauf  Grey's 
chamber    oftentymes."     The   havoc 
caused  by  the  ordnance  alarmed  the 
garrison;   it   chanced   that   a   large 
portion  of  a  wall  fell,  and  Grey  with 
it ;  an  offer  to  surrender  was  made ; 
and  it  was  agreed  that  the  men  should 
be  at  the  king's  "  mercy,"  their  com- 
mander at  the  king's  "will."    They 
had  thought  him  dead  or  dying ;  but 
he  was  carefully  nursed  by  the  cruelty 
of  his  victors,  recovered,  and  was  pre- 
sented to   the   king   at   Doncaster.1 
There  the   following  judgment  was 
pronounced   upon    him   by   Tiptoft, 
earl  of  "Worcester,  and  constable  of 
England:  "Sir  Ralph  Grey,  for  thy 
treason  the  king  had  ordained  that 
thou  shouldest  have  thy  spurs  stricken 
off  by  the  hard  heels,  by  the  hand  of 
the  master  cook,  who  is  here  present. 
Moreover,  he  had  ordained  here  as 
thou  mayest  see,  the  kings  of  arms 
and  heralds,  and  thine  own  proper 
coat  of  arms,  which  they  should  tear 
off  thy  body,  that  thou  mightest  be 
degraded  as   well    of    thy   worship, 
noblesse,  and  arms,  as  of  thy  knight- 
hood.   Also  here  is  another  coat  of 
thine  arms  reverse,  the  which  thou 
shouldest  wear  on  thy  body,  going  to 
thy  deathwards,  for  that  belongeth  to 


thee  after  the  law.  Notwithstanding, 
the  degrading  thee  of  knighthood,  and' 
of  thine  arm?,  and  thy  noblesse,  the 
king  pardoneth  for  the  sake  of  thy 
noble  grandfather,  who  suffered  trou- 
ble, for  the  king's  most  noble  prede- 
cessors. Now,  Sir  Ralph,  this  shall 
be  thy  penance,  thou  shalt  go  on  thy 
feet  to  the  town's  end,  and  there  thou 
shalt  be  laid  down,  and  drawn  to  a 
scaffold  made  for  thee,  and  thou  shaifc 
have  thy  head  smitten  off,  thy  body  to 
be  buried  in  the  Friars,  and  thy  head 
where  the  king's  pleasure  shall  be/* 
This  sentence  was  immediately  exe- 
cuted.2 

Henry,  who  had  fled  from  Hexham 
before  the  arrival  of  Montague,  was 
so  closely  pursued  that  three  of  his 
henchmen  were  taken  clothed  in 
gowns  of  blue  velvet,  and  on  them  was 
found  his  bycoket  or  cap  of  state, 
embroidered  with  two  crowns  of  gold, 
and  ornamented  with  pearls.  He  had 
however  the  good  fortune  to  escape, 
and  sought  an  asylum  among  the 
natives  of  Lancashire  and  Westmore- 
land, a  people  sincerely  devoted  to  his 
interests.3  Their  fidelity  enabled  him 
for  more  than  a  year  to  elude  the 
vigilance  and  researches  of  the  go- 
vernment ;  but  he  was  at  last  betrayed 
by  the  perfidy  of  Cantlow,  a  monk  of 
Abingdon,  and  taken  by  the  servants 
of  Sir  James  Harrington  of  Brierley, 
in  or  near  to  Waddington-hall,  in 
Yorkshire.4  At  Islington  the  unfor- 
tunate king  was  met  by  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  who  ordered  by  proclama- 
tion that  no  one  should  show  him  any 


notea  to 


2  Wyrcest.499.  Stowe,418.  In  the  Year- 
book  it  is  sa:d  that  the  degrading  part  of 
the  sentence  was  actually  carried  into  exe- 
cation  et  le  cause  del  eel  punishment  de 
luy  en  tiel  maner,  fait  per  cause  de  son 
f  ou*>len.esf.e.  que  Z  avoit  fait  al 
nry  le  size  jadw  roy,  &c.—  et  auxy  al 


•  He  was  during  this  time  frequently  con- 


cealed in  the  house  of  John  Machell,  at 
Crakenthorp,  in  Westmoreland.-Kym.  ii. 

*Kymxi.518.  Wyrcest.  504.  Fab.  494. 
Monstrel.  m.  119.  Harrington  revived  for 
his  services  the  lands  belonging  *>  Tunstal 
of  Thurland  Castle,  to  the  amount  of  100Z 
per  annum;  his  associates,  who  were  pun- 
cipally  Tempests  of  Bracewell,  and  Talbots  of 
liashall,  had  annuities  out  of  Bolland  and 

!TlCJe1'  £H  £6y  C0uld  be  Prided  wi?h 
lands.-Rot.Parl.  v.  584.  Waddington  Hall 
belonged  to  the  Tempests. 


A.D.  M03.]      EDWARD'S  CLANDESTINE  MARRIAGE. 


75 


respect,  tied  his  feet  to  the  stirrups  as 
a  prisoner,  led  him  thrice  round  the 
pillory,  and  conducted  him  to  the 
Tower.  There  he  was  placed  in  the 
custody  of  two  esquires  and  two  yeo- 
men of  the  crown ;  but  was  treated 
with  humanity,  and  allowed  to  enjoy 
the  company  of  persons  who  did  not 
excite  suspicion.1 

After  the  flight  from  Hexham,  the 
Lancastrians  abandoned  the  contest ; 
and  the   conqueror  had  leisure   to 
reward  his  partisans,  and  attend  t 
the  confirmation  of  his  throne.    Lore 
Montague  was  created  earl  of  North- 
umberland, and  lord  Herbert  earl  of 
Pembroke;    another    long    list    of 
attainders  contributed  to  exhaust  the 
resources  of  his  opponents  and  to  add 
to  those  of  his  own  partisans ;  and  an 
act   of    resumption   was    passed   to 
enable  the  king  to  live  on  the  income 
of  the  crown,  but  clogged,  as  usual, 
with  so  many  exceptions,  as  to  render 
it  useless.'    From  internal  polity  he 
turned  his  thoughts  to  his  relations 
with  foreign  states.    To  the  pope  he 
had  already  notified  his  accession,  and 
sent  an  abstract  of  the  arguments  on 
which  he   founded   his  claim.    The 
answer   of  Pius   II.  was  civil,  but 
guarded :  and,  while  the  pontiff  con- 


gratulated the  king  on  his  elevation 
to  the  regal  dignity,  he  cautiously 
abstained  from  any  expression  which 
might  be  deemed  an  approbation  of 
his  title.3    With  Scotland,  which  had 
so  long  offered  an  asylum  to  his  ene- 
mies, Edward  concluded  a  peace  for 
fifteen,  and  afterwards  prolonged  it 
for  fifty-five  years.    What  measures 
the  policy  of  Louis  of  Trance  might 
have  pursued,  is  uncertain ;  but  that 
monarch  was  so  harassed  by  the  war 
of  "  the  public  good,"  as  it  was  called, 
that  he  had  no  leisure  or  temptation 
to  intermeddle  with  the  concerns  of 
foreign    states;   and   the   two   most 
powerful  of  the  Trench  princes,  the 
dukes  of  Burgundy  and   Bretagne, 
had  entered  into  alliances  defensive 
and  offensive  with  the  new  king  of 
England.     Treaties    almost    similar 
were   signed   between  him  and  the 
kings  of  Denmark  and  Poland  in  the 
north  and  east,  and  those  of  Castile 
and  Arragon  in  the  south,  so  that  he 
might  consider  himself  on  terms  of 
amity  with  almost  all  the  great  powers 
of  Europe.4 

In  these  circumstances  the  king  no 
longer  hesitated  to  acknowledge  in 
public  a  marriage  which  he  had  some 
time  before  contracted  in  private. 


i  Warkworth,  p.  5. 
»  Eot.  Parl.  v.  511—548.  In  this  parlia- 
ment was  made  a  law  respecting  dress,  for- 
bidding any  man  or  woman  under  the  estate 
of  a  lord  to  wear  cloth  of  gold,  or  cloth 
wrought  with  gold,  or  furs  of  sables ;  any 
person  under  the  estate  of  a  knight  to  wear 
velvet,  satin,  or  silk  made  like  to  velvet  or 
satin,  or  furs  of  ermiiie ;  any  yeoman  to 
wear  stuffing  in  his  doublet  but  only  the 
lining :  or  any  one  under  the  estate  of  a 
lord  to  wear  gown,  jacket,  or  cloak,  which 
did  not  reach  to  his  thighs,  or  shoes  with 
pikes  above  two  inches  in  length. — Eot. 
Parl.  v.  504.  "  Ever  since  the  year  1382," 
says  Stowe,  "  the  pikes  of  shoes  and  boots 
were  of  such  length  that  they  were  fain  to 
be  tied  up  to  their  knees  with  chains  of 
silver,  or  at  the  least  with  silk  laces."— 
fitowe,  429.  Such  interference  with  private 
expenditure  was  very  common,  and  at  the 
same  time  very  useless.  Its  object,  as  we 
iearn  from  the  Rolls,  was  to  prevent  "  the 
impoverishment  of  the  realm,"  by  the  aum« 


of  money  sent  into  "  strange  countries''  in 
exchange  for  articles  of  luxury.— Hot.  ran. 

1      Evm.  xi.  489.    This  pontiff  had  always 

«J      ,     — —  .1 -L.     Vi«     ln»A4-A       1?i.on- 


jucnaru  UUK.O  ui.    AWI.J».,  ««"  ; 

He  had  even  presumed  to  excommunicate 
their  opponents;  and  the  pontiff  in  conse- 
quence had  deposed  him,  and  sent  him  to  a 
monastery  to  do  penance  for  life.— Raynald. 
vii.  68,  122,  123.  It  would  appear,  however, 
that  he  was  afterward  liberated ;  for  Edward 
appointed  him  his  procurator  in  the  court 
of  Kome,  granted  to  him  an  annuity  of  1(X»., 
gave  him  permission  to  distribute  the  royaJ 
livery  to  twelve  of  his  friends,  and  autho- 
ri*ed  him  and  his  two  brothers  to  bear  on 
the  upper  part  of  their  coat  of  arms  the 
white  rose,  the  device  of  the  house  of  York. 
All  these  grants  were  confirmed  by  parlia- 
ment.—Eym.  xi.  479,  480.  . 

*  Rot.  Pari.  v.  622.     Bym.   xi.  525,  532, 
536,  551,  557,  &c. 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAP.  11 


Ever  since  the  battle  of  Towton  he 
had  resigned  the  management  of 
affairs  to  the  wisdom  and  activity  of 
the  Nevilles,  and  had  devoted  his  own 
attention  to  the  pursuit  of  pleasure. 
They  had  frequently  urged  him  to 
marry  into  some  royal  or  princely 
family,  which  might  contribute  to 
support  him  against  his  competitor ; 
but  the  king  felt  no  inclination  to 
shackle  himself  with  the  chains  of 
matrimony ;  and  foreign  princes  were 
not  anxious  to  offer  their  daughters 
to  one  whose  claim  to  the  crown  was 
disputed,  and  whose  possession  of  it 
was  still  precarious.  It  chanced  that 
Edward  visited  Jacquetta,  the  duchess 
of  Bedford,  and  her  husband  Wyde- 
vile,  Lord  Rivers,  at  Graf  ton,  where 
he  saw  their  daughter  Elizabeth,  a 
woman  of  superior  beauty  and  accom- 
plishments, and  the  relict  of  Sir  John 
Grey,  a  Lancastrian,  who  had  fallen 
at  the  second  battle  of  St.  Alban's. 
The  lady  Grey  seized  the  opportunity 
to  throw  herself  at  the  feet  of  her 
sovereign,  and  solicited  him  to  reverse 
the  attainder  of  her  late  husband  in 
favour  of  her  destitute  children.  The 
king  pitied  the  suppliant;  and  that 
pity  soon  grew  into  love.  To  marry 
a  woman  so  far  beneath  him,  without 
the  advice  of  his  council,  and  at  a 
moment  when  his  throne  tottered 
under  him,  was  a  dangerous  experi- 
ment. But  the  virtue  of  Elizabeth 
was  proof  against  the  arts  of  the  royal 
lover,  and  his  passion  scorned  the 
cooler  calculations  of  prudence.  About 
the  end  of  April,  1464,  when  the 


friends  of  Henry  were  assembling 
their  forces  in  Northumberland,  he 
repaired  to  Stony  Stratford,  whence 
early  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of 
May  he  stole  in  great  secrecy  to 
Grafton.  The  marriage  ceremony 
was  performed  by  a  priest  in  the  pre- 
sence of  his  clerk,  of  the  duchess  of 
Bedford,  and  of  two  female  attend- 
ants. After  an  hour  or  two  Edward 
returned  to  Stony  Stratford,  and  pre- 
tending lassitude  from  hunting,  shut 
himself  up  in  his  chamber.  Two  days 
afterwards  he  invited  himself  to  Graf- 
ton.  To  divert  the  attention  of  the 
courtiers,  their  time  was  wholly  occu- 
pied with  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  ; 
nor  did  the  king  and  Elizabeth  ever 
meet  in  private  till  the  duchess  had 
ascertained  that  the  whole  family  had 
retired  to  rest.  Thus  he  spent  four 
days;  and  then  returning  to  London, 
issued  orders  for  his  army  to  join  him 
in  Yorkshire.  But  before  his  arrival 
in  the  north  the  war  had  been  ended 
by  the  two  victories  of  Hedgley  Moor 
and  Hexham ;  and  after  his  return  it 
became  the  principal  subject  of  his 
solicitude  to  open  the  matter  to  his 
counsellors,  and  to  obtain  their 
approbation.1 

For  this  purpose  he  summoned  at 
Michaelmas  a  general  council  of  the 
peers  to  meet  in  the  abbey  of  Read- 
ing ;  and  the  duke  of  Clarence  and 
the  earl  of  Warwick,  though  they  are 
supposed  to  have  disapproved  of  the 
marriage,  taking  Elizabeth  by  the 
hand,  introduced  her  to  the  rest  of 
the  lords,  by  whom,  in  the  presence 


-  By  all  our  ancient  historians,  with  the 
exception  of  the  unknown  autLor  of  the 
Fragment  published  by  Hearne  at  the  end 
of  Sprot,  the  marriage  of  Edward  has  been 
fixed  on  the  first  of  May,  1464.  That  writer 
dates  it  in  the  preceding  year  (p.  293)  :  and 
it  has  been  urged  in  favour  of  the  earlier 
date,  that  Edward  in  1464  was  too  much 
occupied  with  the  war  to  think  of  marriage, 
and  that  the  anonymous  writer  expressly 
refutes  from  his  own  knowledge  those  who 
place  it  later.— Carte,  ii.  770.  But  it  may 
be  observed  that,  according  to  the  dates  in 
Byiaer,  the  king  did  not  summon  his  army 


till  the  ninth  day  after  that  on  which  the 
marriage  is  said  to  have  taken  place,  and 
that  the  anonymous  writer  refutes,  not 
those  who  place  the  marriage  in  a  different 
year,  but  those  who  say  the  king  was  to 
have  married  the  dowager  queen  of  Scot- 
land (p.  293,  294) .  Indeed  he  is  at  variance 
with  himself.  For  though  he  places  the 
marriage  in  1463,  he  says  it  was  in  the  same 
year  as  the  battle  of  Hexham  (292),  which 
certainly  took  place  in  1464.  For  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  marriage  see  that  writer,  and 
Fabyan,  p.  494,  495. 


A.D.  1-ioi.j 


ELIZABETH  IS  CROWNED  QUEEN. 


of  the  king,  she  was  acknowledged 
and  complimented  as  queen.  Soon 
afterwards  a  second  council  was  held 
at  Westminster,  and  an  income  was 
settled  on  her  of  four  thousand  marks 
a  year.1  But,  notwithstanding  this 
outward  show  of  approbation,  there 
were  many  who  murmured  in  private, 
and  could  ill  disguise  their  jealousy 
at  the  elevation  to  the  throne  of  a 
woman,  whose  father  a  few  years  ago 
was  no  more  than  a  simple  knight. 
To  excuse  the  king,  his  friends  cir- 
culated reports,  that  his  inexperience 
had  been  deceived  by  the  arts  of  the 
duchess  and  her  daughter ;  that  phil- 
tres and  magic  had  been  employed  to 
extort  his  consent ;  and  that  he  had 
since  repented  of  his  precipitancy, 
and  struggled,  but  in  vain,  to  dissolve 
the  marriage.2  But  Edward  himself, 
that  he  might  silence  those  who  ob- 
jected the  meanness  of  her  birth, 
invited  her  maternal  uncle,  James  of 
Luxemburg,  who  with  a  retinue  of 
one  hundred  knights  and  gentlemen 
attended  her  coronation.3  On  the 
feast  of  the  Ascension  the  king  created 
thirty-eight  knights  of  the  Bath,  of 
whom  four  were  prudently  selected 
from  the  citizens  of  London.  The 
next  day  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and 
different  companies  met  the  queen  at 
Shooter's  Hill,  and  conducted  her  in 
state  to  the  Tower.  On  the  Saturday, 
to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  popu- 
lace, she  rode  in  a  horse  litter  through 
the  principal  streets,  preceded  by 
the  newly  created  knights.  Her 
coronation  followed  on  the  Sunday, 
and  the  rest  of  the  week  was  devoted 
to  feasting,  tournaments,  and  public 
rejoicings.4 

The  elevation  of  Elizabeth  was  the 
elevation  of  her  family.  By  the  influ- 


ence of  the  king  her  five  sisters  wero 
married  to  five  young  noblemen,  the 
duke  of  Buckingham,  the  heir  of  the 
earl  of  Essex,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  the 
earl  of  Kent,  and  the  lord  Herbert ; 
her  brother  Anthony  to  the  daughter 
of  the  late  lord  Scales,  with  whom  he 
obtained  the  estate  and  title;  her 
younger  brother  John  in  his  twen- 
tieth year  to  Catherine,  the  dowager 
but  opulent  duchess  of  Norfolk,  in 
her  eightieth  ;5  and  her  son  Thomas 
by  her  former  husband,  to  Anne,  the 
king's  niece,  daughter  and  heiress  to 
the  duke  of  Exeter.  We  are  assured 
by  a  contemporary  that  these  mar- 
riages were  viewed  with  jealousy  by 
most  of  the  nobility.  Many  saw  those 
projects  disconcerted  which  they  had 
formed  for  the  advancement  of  their 
own  children,  particularly  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  who  had  previously  soli- 
cited the  hand  of  the  heiress  of  Exeter 
for  his  own  nephew;  all  considered 
the  sudden  rise  of  the  new  family  as 
an  injury  offered  to  themselves.  To 
add  to  their  discontent,  the  lord 
Mountjoy,  treasurer  of  England,  was 
removed  to  make  place  for  the  queen's 
father,  who  was  created  Earl  Eivers, 
and  soon  afterwards,  on  the  resigna- 
tion of  the  earl  of  Worcester,  was 
made  lord  high  constable.6 

Of  the  three  Nevilles,  sons  of  the 
earl  of  Salisbury,  George,  the  youngest 
brother,  bishop  of  Exeter,  had  re- 
ceived the  seals  on  Edward's  acces- 
sion, and  had  lately  been  translated 
to  the  archiepiscopal  see  of  York." 
The  next,  the  lord  Montague,  was 
warden  of  the  east  marches  of  Scot- 
land, and  with  the  title  of  the  earl  of 
Northumberland  had  obtained  the 
estates  of  the  Percies.  The  earl  of 
Warwick,  the  third,  had  hitherto 


1  Wyrcest.  500,  501. 

2  Fab.  495.  3  Monstrel.  iii.  105. 

4  Wyrcest.  501—503.     Fragment,  ad  fin. 
"prot.  294,  295. 

5  Juvencula  fere  80  annorum. — Wyrcest. 
501.    On  account  of  the  disparity  of  their 
ages,  Wyrceater  calls  this  maritagium  dia- 


bolicum.  But  adds,  vindicta  Bernard!  inter 
eosdem  postea  patuit.— Ibid.  What  was  the 
vindicta  Bernard!  ? 

6  Wyrcest.  500,  501,  505,  506,  507. 

7  The  reader  may  see  the  particulars  of 
the  feast  at  his  installation,  and  the  names 
of  the  guests,  in  Lei.  Coll.  vi.  1—14. 


78 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAI>.  II, 


been  the  king's  chief  minister  and 
general.  He  held  the  wardenship  of 
the  west  marches  towards  Scotland, 
the  office  of  chamberlain,  and  the 
government  of  Calais,  the  most  lucra- 
tive and  important  appointment  in 
the  gift  of  the  sovereign.1  Hitherto 
they  had  governed  the  king  and  the 
kingdom ;  now  they  foresaw  the  dimi- 
nution of  their  influence  by  the  as- 
cendancy of  a  rival  family.  Edward 
had  grown  weary  of  the  state  of  tute- 
lage in  which  they  detained  him ;  the 
Wydeviles  urged  him  to  emancipate 
himself  from  the  control  of  his  own 
servants ;  and  his  affections  were  in- 
sensibly transferred  from  the  men 
who  had  given  him  the  title,  to  those 
who  exhorted  him  to  exercise  the 
authority  of  a  king.  This  coldness 
was  first  made  public  in  the  year 
1467.  A  marriage  had  some  time  be- 
fore been  suggested  bet  ween  Margaret, 
the  king's  sister,  and  Charles,  count 
of  Charolois,  son  to  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, who,  as  he  was  sprung  from 
the  house  of  Lancaster,  had  always 
favoured  the  friends  of  Henry,  but 
now,  from  motives  of  policy,  sought 
an  alliance  with  Edward  to  protect 
himself  against  his  adversary,  the  king 
of  Prance.  "Warwick,  who  at  the 
Burgundian  court  had  become  the 
determined  enemy  of  Charles,2  con- 
demned the  project,  and  advised  a 
marriage  with  one  of  the  French 
princes.  To  his  arguments  were 
opposed  the  advantages  which  would 
result  from  the  intended  alliance, 
both  to  the  king,  by  converting  the 
enemy  of  his  family  into  a  friend,  and 
to  the  nation,  by  affording  greater 

1  Comines,  who  was  often  at  Calais,  tells 
us,  on  the  authority  of  the  chief  officer  of 
the  staple,  that  the  government  of  that  town 
was  worth  15,000  crowns  a  year.— Com.  1.  iii. 
e.  4.  Stowe  adds  that  Warwick  was  a  great 
favourite  with  the  people,  on  account  of  his 
hospitality.  "When  he  came  to  London, 
he  held  such  an  house,  that  six  oxen  were 
eaten  at  a  breakfast,  and  every  tavern  was 
full  of  his  meat;  for  who  that  had  any 
acquaintance  in  that  house,  he  should  have 


facility  to  the  commercial  intercourse 
between  England  and  the  Nether- 
lands. Edward,  however,  perhaps  to 
free  himself  from  an  imperious  coun- 
sellor, commissioned  Warwick  to  treat 
with  the  king  of  France,  who  received 
him  at  Rouen  with  all  the  respect 
due  to  a  sovereign  prince ;  assigned 
to  him  for  his  residence  the  houEe 
next  to  his  own,  and  by  a  private 
door  repeately  visited  him  in  secret 
for  the  space  of  twelve  days.3  In 
England,  when  the  parliament  as- 
sembled, the  chancellor  did  not  attend, 
on  account  of  a  real  or  affected  sick- 
ness; but  Edward,  whose  suspicions 
had  been  awakened  by  the  confer- 
ences between  Warwick  and  the 
French  king,  went  to  the  house  of 
the  prelate  with  a  numerous  retinue, 
required  him  to  deliver  up  the  seals, 
and,  in  virtue  of  an  act  of  resumption 
passed  at  the  time,  took  from  him  two 
manors,  which  he  had  formerly  ob- 
tained from  the  crown.4  About  the 
same  time,  the  bastard  of  Burgundy 
arrived,  avowedly  to  perform  feats  & 
arms  with  the  lord  Scales,  by  whom 
he  had  been  challenged,  though  public 
suspicion  assigned  to  him  a  secret 
and  more  important  object,  the  ne- 
gotiation of  the  intended  marriage. 
The  tournament  took  place;8  but  a 
few  days  later  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
died,  and  the  bastard  immediately 
departed  with  his  retinue.  Warwick 
then  returned,  bringing  with  him 
ambassadors  from  France,  whose  ob- 
ject it  was  to  prevent  the  alliance 
between  Edward  and  Charles.  They 
had  been  instructed  to  offer  to  the 
king  an  annual  pension  from  Louis, 


as  much  sodden   (boiled)   and  roast  as  he 
might  carry  upon  a  long  dagger." — Stowe, 

8  Cont.  Hist.  Croyl.  551.  Capitali  odio 
prosecutus  est  hoininem  ilium,  scilicet 
Carolum. — Ibid. 

8  Monstrel.  App.  22.    Fragment,  227. 

*  Rym.  xi.  578. 

s  See  the  ancient  and  interesting  accounts 
of  the  origin  and  performance  of  this  tour- 
nament in  Ezcerpt.  Hist.  176—223. 


A.D.  14GS.J 


RECONCILIATION  OF  WARWICK 


and  to  consent  that  his  pretensions 
to  Normandy  and  Aquitaine  should 
be  referred  to  the  decision  of  the 
pope,  who  should  he  bound  to  give 
judgment  within  four  years.  But 
Edward  received  them  coldly,  le'ft  the 
capital,  and  appointed  an  inferior 
agent  to  hear,  or  rather  to  reject, 
their  proposals.  The  earl  by  increased 
attention  sought  to  compensate  for 
the  neglect  of  the  king ;  but  he  was 
not  sparing  of  hints  and  menaces  in 
the  company  of  his  friends,  and  on 
the  departure  of  the  ambassadors  re- 
tired in  discontent  to  his  castle  at 
Middleham  in  Yorkshire.1  During 
his  absence  the  treaty  was  resumed 
with  Charles,  now  duke  of  Burgundy ; 
the  princess  gave  her  consent  to  the 
marriage  in  a  great  council  of  peers 
at  Kingston ;  and  soon  afterwards  an 
emissary  from  Queen  Margaret,  who 
had  been  taken  in  Wales,  informed 
the  king  that  "Warwick  was  considered 
in  the  French  court  a  secret  partisan 
of  the  house  of  Lancaster.  As  the 
earl  refused  to  quit  his  castle,  he  was 
confronted  with  his  accuser  at  Middle- 
ham  ;  and  though  the  charge  was  de- 
clared to  be  groundless,  the  king 
selected  a  body-guard  of  two  hundred 
archers,  who  were  ordered  to  attend 
always  on  his  person.  Everything 
seemed  to  threaten  a  rupture,  when 
their  common  friends  interfered,  by 
whose  means  the  archbishop  of  York 


and  the  earl  Rivers  met  at  Notting- 
ham, and  settled  the  terms  of  recon- 
ciliation. The  prelate  conducted  his 
brother  to  Coventry,  where  he  was 
graciously  received  by  the  king;  all 
subjects  of  offence  between  him  and 
the  lords  Herbert,  Stafford,  and  Au- 
deley  were  reciprocally  forgiven ;  and 
the  archbishop,  as  the  reward  of  his 
services,  recovered  the  possession  of 
his  two  manors.2  In  the  course  of 
the  year  Warwick  appeared  again  at 
court,  and  again  in  favour.  When 
Edward  conducted  his  sister  to  the 
coast,  on  her  way  to  Flanders,  she 
rode  behind  the  earl  through  the 
streets  of  the  metropolis  ;3  and  on  the 
discovery  of  a  conspiracy  in  favour  of 
Henry,  he  sat  among  the  judges  on 
the  trial  of  the  accused.  But  these 
outward  appearances  of  harmony  and 
confidence  did  not  deceive  the  people: 
they  foresaw  the  storm  which  was 
gathering ;  and  while  they  pitied  the 
real  or  imaginary  wrongs  of  their 
favourite,  laid  the  blame  on  the 
ambition  of  the  queen  and  her  rela- 
tives. 

I  have  been  the  more  particular  in 
these  details,  that  the  reader  might  ob- 
serve the  origin  and  progress  of  the  jea- 
lousies and  dissensions  which  dissolved 
the  friendship  between  Warwick  and 
Edward,  and  led  to  the  flight  of  the 
latter  and  the  restoration  of  Henry.4 
But  with  respect  to  most  of  the  events 


1  Wyrcest.  510.  Duclos,  Hist,  of  Louis  XI. 

2  The  grant  of  the  manors  is  dated  1469 
in  Rymer  (x .  642) ,  which  proves  that  Wyr- 
cester  is  wrong,  unless  it  be  a  second  grant 
for  greater  security. 

•  Frag,  ad  fin.  Sprot.  p.  296.  "The  Erie 
of  Warrewyke  riding  before  hur  on  hur 
hors."— Cot.  MS.  Nero,  c.  ix.  Excerpt. 
Hist.  227.  She  rode  that  day  to  Stratford 
priory ;  the  neit  morning,  leaving  there  the 
king  and  queen,  she  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
Canterbury,  and  was  rejoined  by  them  at 
Margate.  From  that  port  she  sailed  on 
July  the  first,  landed  the  next  day  at  Sluys, 
on  the  4th  was  visited  secretly  by  the  duke, 
and  affianced  to  him,  on  the  9th  removed  to 
Damme  near  Bruges,  and  on  Sunday,  the 
lOtb,  was  married  to  him  in  the  church, 
between  £ra  and  six  in  the  morning.  So 


the  writer  of  the  journal  in  the  MS.,  pro- 
bably a  herald  in  her  suite.  John  Paston, 
who  was  also  present,  states  that  they  were 
married  on  the  Sunday  at  five  in  the  morn- 
ing, dating  his  letter  on  the  Friday  after 
St.  Thomas,  which  must  be  July  the  15th, 
the  Friday  after  the  octave  of  the  festival. 
— Fenn,  ii.  4. 

*  Warkworth  (p.  3)  and  several  modern 
writers  state  that  at  the  time  of  the  king's 
secret  marriage  with  Elizabeth,  Warwick 
was  in  France,  negotiating  on  the  part  of 
the  king  a  marriage  with  Bona  of  Savoy, 
sister  to  the  queen  of  France  ;  and  having 
succeeded  in  his  mission,  brought  back  with 
him  the  count  of  Dampmartiii  as  ambassa- 
dor from  Louis.  This,  they  say,  was  the 
origin  of  the  quarrel  between  Edward  and 
Warwick;  but  to  me  the  whole  story  ap- 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAP.  II. 


which  follow,   he   must  be    content; 
with  a  bare  and  very  imperfect  nar- 
rative ;  for  though  they  were  extra- 
ordinary in  their  nature,  and  most 
important  in  their  results,  yet  in  the  ' 
confused   and   mutilated   records  of 
the  time,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  j 
discover   the  immediate    causes    by  | 
which  they  were  produced,   or  the 
secret     relations    which    connected 
them  with  each  other. 

1.  George,  the  elder  of  the  sur- 
viving brothers  of  Edward,  had  re- 
ceived with  the  title  of  duke  of  Cla- 
rence a  proportionate  income,  and 
had  been  named  to  the  lieutenancy 
of  Ireland,  which  office,  on  account 
of  his  age,  he  was  permitted  to  exe- 
cute by  his  deputy,  the  earl  of  Wor- 
cester. This  young  prince,  dissatisfied 
at  the  ascendancy  of  the  Wydeviles, 
absented  himself  frequently  from 
court,  and  preferred  to  the  company 
of  his  brother  that  of  the  earl  of 
Warwick.  Another  cause  for  this 
preference  may,  perhaps,  be  found  in 
the  attachment  which  he  had  formed 
for  Isabella,  the  daughter  of  that 
nobleman.  Clarence  was  yet  the 
next  male  heir  to  the  throne ;  and 
Edward,  aware  of  the  ambition  of 
Warwick  earnestly  laboured  to  pre- 
vent the  marriage  of  the  parties. 
His  efforts  were  ineffectual ;  and  the 
ceremony  was  performed  without  his 
consent,  in  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas 


at  Calais,  by  the  uncle  of  the  bride, 
the  archbishop  of  York. 

2.  It  was  a  singular  coincidence  that 
at  the  very  time  when  this  prelate 
and  his  brother  met  at  Calais  to  cele- 
brate the  marriage,  in  defiance  of  the 
king,  an  insurrection  should  burst  forth 
in  that  part  of  the  realm  where  they 
possessed  the  principal  influence.  Its 
ostensible  cause  was  the  determina- 
tion of  the  farmers  of  Yorkshire  to 
resist  the  demand  of  a  thrave  of  corn 
from  every  ploughland,  made  by  the 
warden  of  the  hospital  of  St.  Leo- 
nard's. The  thrave  had  been  paid 
since  the  time  of  King  Athelstan; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  reign, 
when  it  had  been  withheld  by  some, 
was  confirmed  to  the  hospital  by  act 
of  parliament  ;l  now,  however,  when 
the  officers  attempted  to  levy  its 
value  by  distress,  the  peasants  flew 
to  arms,  chose  for  their  leader  Eobert 
Hilyard,  commonly  called  Robin  of 
Eedesdale,  and  threatened  to  inarch 
to  the  south,  and  reform  the  abuses 
of  government.  The  citizens  of  York 
were  alarmed  by  the  approach  of 
fifteen  thousand  insurgents;  but  the 
earl  of  Northumberland,  Warwick's 
brother,  to  prevent  the  destruction 
of  the  city,  attacked  and  defeated 
them  with  considerable  slaughter. 
Their  leader  was  executed  on  the 
field  of  battle. 

3.   This    circumstance    seems    to 


pears  a  fiction.  1.  If  we  except  Warkworth, 
it  was  unknown  to  our  ancient  writers.  2. 
Warwick  was  not  at  the  time  in  France.  On 
the  20th  of  April,  ten  days  before  the  mar- 
riage, he  waa  employed  in  negotiating  a 
truce  with  the  French  envoys  in  London 
(Rym.  xi.  521),  and  on  the  26th  of  May, 
about  three  weeks  after  it,  was  appointed 
to  treat  of  another  truce  with  the  king  of 
Septs. — Eym.  xi.  424.  3.  Nor  could  he 
bring  Dampmartin  with  him  to  England ; 
for  that  nobleman  was  committed  a  prisoner 
to  th.»  Bastile  in  September,  1463,  and  re- 
mained there  till  May,  1465.— Monstrel.  iii. 
97,  109.  Three  contemporary  and  well- 
informed  writers,  the  two  continuators  of 
the  History  of  Croyland  and  Wyrcester, 
attribute  his  discontent  to  the  marriages 
tad  honours  granted  to  the  Wydeviles,  and 


the  marriage  of  the  princess  Margaret  with 
the  duke  of  Burgundy;  a  fourth  tells  us, 
from  the  mouth  of  Edward  himself,  that  the 
king's  suspicion  of  Warwick's  fidelity  arose 
from  the  secret  conferences  of  that  noble- 
man with  Louis  at  Bouen ;  and  a  fifth  that 
Edward  had  made  an  attempt  in  the  earl's 
house  to  violate  the  chastity  of  his  niece  or 
daughter.— Grafton,  439.  See  Cont.  Hist. 
Croyl.  542,  55;  Wyrcester,  504—510;  Frag- 
ment, 299.  According  to  the  statement  of 
the  Spanish  ambassador  in  the  next  reign 
(Ellis,  2nd  ser.  i.  152),  the  foreign  princess 
proposed  to  Edward  by  Warwick,  waa 
Isabella  of  Castile;  she  was  then  in  her 
fourteenth  year,  and  afterwards  succeeded 
her  brother  Henry  IV.  on  the  throne. 

1  Stat.  of  Realm,  ii.  217. 


A.D.  1160.1 


JNS'UllRECTION  IN  YOUKSIilllE. 


81 


acquit  one  of  ihe  Nevilles  from  all 
share  in  the  insurrection ;  yet  his 
subsequent  inactivity,  and  the  con- 
duct of  his  two  brothers,  prove  that, 
whatever  were  its  original  cause,  they 
were  willing  at  least  to  convert  it  to 
their  own  purposes.  Northumber- 
land could,  if  he  had  pleased,  have 
instantly  extinguished  the  flame;  he 
carelessly  looked  on,  till  it  grew  into 
a  general  conflagration.  The  rebels, 
thougn  repulsed,  were  neither  dis- 
persed nor  pursued ;  and  in  the  place 
of  the  leader  \\hom  they  had  lost, 
they  found  two  others  of  more  illus- 
trious name,  and  more  powerful  con- 
nections, the  sons  of  the  lords  Fitz- 
hugh  and  Latimer— the  one  the 
nephew,  the  other  the  cousin-german 
of  Warwick.  These  young  men, 
though  nominally  at  the  head  of  the 
army,  in  reality  obeyed  the  commands 
of  Sir  John  Conyers,  an  old  and 
experienced  officer.  The  claim  of  the 
hospital  was  now  forgotten.  Their 
avowed  object  was  to  meet  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  that  with  his  advice  they 
might  remove  from  the  king's  coun- 
cils the  Wydeviles,  the  authors  of  the 
taxes  that  impoverished,  and  of  the 
calamities  that  oppressed  the  nation. 
At  the  name  of  Warwick  his  tenants 
crowded  from  every  quarter ;  and  in 
a  few  days  the  insurgents  were  said 
to  amount  to  sixty  thousand  men.1 

On   the   first  intelligence    of  the 
rising    in   Yorkshire,  Edward    had 


1  During  this  insurrection  reports  of 
witchcraft  were  circulated  against  Jacquetta, 
the  king's  mother-in-law.  She  afterwards 
exhibited  the  following  complaint  to  Edward|: 
"  To  the  king,  our  sovereign  lord,  sheweth', 
and  lamentably  complaineth  unto  your 
highness  your  humble  and  true  liege  woman 

Jaequetta,    duchess    of  Bedford that 

when  she  at  all  time  hath  and  yet  doth  truly 
believe  on  God  according  to  the  faith  of 
holy  church,  as  a  true  Christian  woman 

ought  to  do,  yet  Thomas  Wake,  Esq 

hath  caused  her  to  be  brought  in  a  common 
noise  and  disclander  of  witchcraft  through- 
out a  great  part  of  your  realm,  surmising 
that  she  should  have  used  witchcraft  ana 
sorcery,  insomuch  as  the  said  Wake  caused 
4 


summoned  his  retainers ;  and  in  the 
interval  having  visited  the  monas- 
teries in  Suffolk  and  Norfolk,  fixed 
his  head-quarters  at  the  castle  of 
Fotheringay.  Here  the  advance  of 
the  insurgents,  their  increasing  num- 
bers, and  their  menaces  of  vengeance, 
intimidated  him.  The  whole  popu- 
lation had  been  thrown  into  a  ferment 
by  the  circulation  of "  bills  of  arti- 
cles," as  they  were  called,  under  the 
double  title  of  "  complaints  and  peti- 
tions of  the  king's  faithful  commons 
and  true  subjects."  It  was  com- 
plained that  he  had  debased  the  coin, 
and  raised  money  by  new  and  grie- 
vous impositions,  by  forced  loans,  and 
by  heavy  fines,  the  consequence  of 
vexatious  prosecutions,  which  within 
the  last  year  only  had  amounted  to 
more  than  200,000  marks.  But  did 
he  not  possess  the  "livelihood"  of 
the  English  crown,  of  the  principality 
of  Wales,  of  the  duchies  of  Lancaster, 
Cornwall,  and  York,  of  the  earldoms 
of  Chester  and  March,  and  of  the 
lordship  of  Ireland?  How  came  it 
then  that  he  could  be  in  need  of 
money  ?  It  was  because  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  "  seducious  persons,"  who 
abused  his  generosity,  and,  by  impo- 
verishing him,  enriched  themselves— 
the  queen's  father,  her  step-mother, 
her  brother,  the  lord  Audeley,  Sir 
John  Fogg,  treasurer  of  the  house- 
hold, and  Herbert  and  Stafford, 
lately  created  earls  of  Pembroke  and 


to  be  brought  to  Warwick  at  your  last  being 
there,  sovereign  lord  "  (he  was  then  in  the 
custody  of  Clarence,  Warwick,  and  the 
archbishop),  "to  divers  of  the  lords  being 
there  present,  an  image  of  lead  made  like  a 
man-at-arms,  containing  the  length  of  a 
man's  finger,  and  broken  in  the  middle,  and 
made  fast  with  a  wire,  saying  that  it  was 
made  by  your  said  oratrice,  to  use  with  the 
said  witchcraft  and  sorcery ;  where  she,  nor 
none  for  her  or  by  her,  ever  sawit,  God 
knoweth."  Of  course  her  innocence  was 
admitted  by  the  king.— Rot.  Parl.  vi.  232.  I 
have  mentioned  this,  that  the  reader  may  see 
on  what  frivolous  grounds  these  accusations 
were  brought,  and  how  anxious  the  highest 
personages  were  to  guard  against  them. 
ft 


82 


EDWARD  IV. 


LCHAP.  ii. 


Devon.  It  was  therefore  the  humble 
petition  of  his  faithful  commons,  that 
he  would  call  around  him  the  lords 
of  his  blood,  and  the  nobles  of  the 
realm ;  and  with  their  advice  inflict  on 
those  seducious  persons  that  punish- 
ment which  they  deserved.1 

Prom  l\>theringay  Edward  ad- 
vanced to  Newark;  but,  alarmed  at 
the  disaffection  which  he  observed  on 
his  march,  he  despatched  letters 
written  with  his  own  hand  to  his  bro- 
ther Clarence,  the  earl  of  Warwick, 
and  the  archbishop,  requesting  them 
to  hasten  to  him  at  Nottingham 
with  the  same  retinue  which  usually 
attended  them  in  time  of  peace.  In 
the  note  to  Warwick  he  added  these 
significant  words :  "  and  we  do  not 
believe  that  ye  should  be  of  any  such 
disposition  toward  us,  as  the  rumour 
here  runneth,  consdering  the  trust 
and  affection  we  bear  you.  And, 
cousin,  ne  think  but  ye  shall  be  to  us 
welcome."  But  these  noblemen  had 
no  intention  to  abandon  the  cause  for 
which  they  had  fomented  the  insur- 
rection in  the  north.  On  the  contrary, 
they  summoned  all  their  friends  in 
Kent  and  the  neighbouring  counties 
to  meet  them  in  arms  on  the  Sunday 
following  at  Canterbury,  for  the 
avowed  purpose  of  proceeding  in  com- 
pany to  the  king,  and  laying  before 
him  the  petitions  of  the  commons.2 
To  Edward  there  remained  but  one 
source  of  hope,  the  speedy  arrival  of 
the  earls  of  Pembroke  and  Devon. 
The  former,  who  had  lately  reduced 
the  strong  castle  of  Hardlough,  was 
hastening  with  eight  or  ten  thousand 
Welshmen  to  the  aid  of  his  sovereign; 
the  latter  followed  with  equal  rapi- 
dity, leading  a  mimerous  body  of 
archers,  whom  he  had  collected  among 
the  retainers  of  his  family.  They 
entered  Banbury  together,  but  quar- 


relled in  an  evil  hour  about  their 
quarters,  and  Pembroke,  leaving 
Devon  in  possession,  marched  onwards 
to  Edgecoat.  Lord  Pitzhugh,  with 
the  insurgents,  was  already  in  the 
neighbourhood.  He  did  not  suffer 
the  opportunity  to  escape  him,  but 
brought  his  whole  force  to  bear  on  the 
Welshmen,  who,  separated  from  their 
friends,  and  without  archers,  offered 
an  easy  victory  to  the  multitude  of 
their  enemies.  Two  thousand  are 
said  to  have  perished  on  the  field  of 
battle;  Pembroke  and  his  brother 
were  taken  and  put  to  death.  This 
defeat  extinguished  the  hopes  of 
Edward.  He  could  not  find  a  man  to 
draw  the  sword  in  his  favour.  The 
troops  whom  he  had  arrayed  slipped 
away  from  their  colours;  and  his 
favourites  sought  for  safety  in  con- 
cealment. But  the  earl  Eivers,  the 
queen's  father,  was  discovered  with  his 
son  Sir  John  Wydevile  in  the  forest 
of  Deane,  and  the  earl  of  Devon  was 
taken  by  the  commons  of  Somerset- 
shire at  Bridge  water.  All  three  were 
beheaded,  by  the  order,  it  was  said,  of 
Warwick,  more  probably  because  their 
names  occurred  in  the  list  of  proscrip- 
tion appended  to  the  petition  of  the 
king's  true  subjects.3 

4.  The  king's  brother  and  the  two 
Nevilles,  having  arrayed  their  parti- 
sans at  Canterbury,  proceeded  in 
search  of  Edward,  whom  they  found  at 
Olney,  plunged  in  the  deepest  distress 
at  the  defeat  of  Pembroke  and  the 
desertion  of  his  army.  At  the  first  in- 
terview they  approached  him  with  all 
those  expressions  of  respect  which  are 
due  from  the  subject  to  the  sovereign; 
and  Edward,  deceived  by  these  ap- 
pearances, freely  acquainted  them 
with  his  suspicions  and  displeasure. 
But  his  imprudence  was  soon  checked 
by  the  discovery  that  he  was  in  reality 


1  See  copies  of  the  bills  in  Mr.  flalliwell's 
notes  to  Warkworth,  p.  46. 

2  Tho  king's  letters  are  in  Fenn,  ii.  40. 


The  summons  is  in  note  to  Warkworth, 
p.  46. 

s  See  Cont.  Hist.  Crojl.  543,  551  ;  Frag- 
ment,  300, 301 ;  Warkworth,  6, 7;  Storrs,  422. 


A.D.  1401'.  ! 


EDWAED  RELEASED  FROM  PRISON. 


their  captive ;  and  be  hastily  accepted 
those  excuses  which  it  would  have 
been  dangerous  to  refuse.  The  few 
royalists  who  had  remained  with  the 
king  dispersed  with  the  permission  of 
Warwick.  At  his  command  the  in- 
surgents returned  to  their  homes 
laden  with  plunder;  and  Edward 
accompanied  the  two  brothers  to  War- 
wick, whence,  for  greater  security,  he 
was  removed  to  Middleham,  in  the 
custody  of  the  archbishop.1 

England  exhibited  at  this  moment 
the  extraordinary  spectacle  of  two 
rival  kings,  each  confined  in  prison, 
Henry  in  the  Tower,  Edward  in 
Yorkshire.  In  such  circumstances, 
Warwick  may  have  hoped  to  place  his 
son-in-law,  Clarence,  on  the  throne ; 
but  all  his  plans  were  defeated  by  the 
activity  of  the  Lancastrians,  who 
seized  the  opportunity  to  unfurl  the 
standard  of  Henry  in  the  marches  of 
Scotland,  under  Sir  Humphrey  Ne- 
ville.8 The  conduct  of  the  earl 
proved  that  the  suspicions  previously 
entertained  of  his  acting  in  concert 
with  the  partisans  of  that  monarch 
were  groundless.  He  summoned  all 
the  lieges  of  Edward  to  oppose  the 


rebels ;  but  the  summons  was  disre- 
garded, and  men  refused  to  fight  in 
defence  of  a  prince  of  whose  fate  they 
were  ignorant.  He  therefore  found 
it  necessary  to  exhibit  the  king  m 
public  at  York,  having  first  obtained 
from  him  a  grant  of  the  office  of  jus- 
ticiary of  South  Wales,  and  of  all  the 
other  dignities  held  by  the  late  earl  of 
Pembroke.  From  York  he  marched 
into  the  north,  defeated  the  Lancas- 
trians, and  conducted  their  leader  to 
Edward,  by  whom  he  was  condemned 
to  lose  his  head  on  a  scaffold.  By 
what  arguments  or  promises  the  king 
procured  his  liberty,  we  know  not.3 
A  private  treaty  was  signed :  he 
repaired  to  the  capital,  accompanied 
by  several  lords  of  the  party ;  and  his 
return  was  hailed  by  his  own  friends 
as  little  short  of  a  miracle.  A  council 
of  peers  was  now  summoned,  in  which, 
after  many  negotiations,  Clarence  and 
his  father-in-law  condescended  to 
justify  their  conduct.  Edward  with 
apparent  cheerfulness  accepted  their 
apology,  and  a  general  pardon  was 
issued  in  favour  of  all  persons  who 
had  borne  arms  against  the  king  from 
the  first  rising  in  Yorkshire  under 


i  Cont.  Hist.  Croyl.  543,  551.  By  modern 
writers  the  captivity  of  Edward  has  been 
scornfully  rejected.  Hume  says  it  is  con- 
tradicted by  records.  Carte  and  Henry 
pronounce  it  incredible  and  romantic.  But, 
if  it  were,  they  should  have  accounted  for 
what  in  that  case  were  more  inconceivable, 
the  mention  which  is  made  of  it  by  almost 
every  writer  of  the  age,  whether  foreign  or 
native,  even  by  Commines  (iii.  4)f  who  says 
that  he  received  the  principal  incidents  of 
Edward's  history  from  the  mouth  of  Edward 
himself,  and  by  the  annalist  of  Croyland 
(551),  who  was  high  in  the  confidence  of 
that  monarch.  Hume's  arguments  are, 
1.  That  the  records  in  Kymer  allow  of  no 
interval  for  the  imprisonment  of  Edward  in 
1470 ;  and,  2.  That  it  is  not  mentioned,  as, 
if  it  had  happened,  it  must  have  been,  in 
the  proclamation  of  Edward  against  Cla- 
rence and  Warwick  of  the  same  year.  But, 
in  the  first  place,  he  has  mistaken  the  date 
of  the  imprisonment,  which  was  not  in  1470, 
but  in  1469  (ea  aetate  quse  contingebat  anno 
nono  regis,  qui  erat  annus  Domini  1469. — 
Cont.  Croyl.  551) ;  and,  in  the  second,  the 


proclamation  ought  not  to  have  named  it.* 
because  it  confines  itself  to  the  enumeration 
of  those  offences  only  which  had  been  com- 
mitted after  the  pardon  granted  to  them  at 
Christmas,  1469.  (Rot.  Parl.  vi.  233.)  But 
there  is  a  record  which  places  the  existence 
of  imprisonment  beyond  a  doubt,  the  attain- 
der of  Clarence,  in  which  the  king  enume- 
rates it  among  his  offences ;  "  as  in  jupartyng 
the  king's  royall  estate,  persone  and  life  in 
ttraite  warde,  putdng  him  thereby  from  all 
his  libertie,  aftre  procurying  grete  «ommo- 
ciona."— Rot.  Parl.  vi.  193.  I  tcuy  add-  that 
in  the  records  in  Rymer  for  1469  there  is  a 
sufficient  interval  of  three  months  from  the 
12th  of  May  to  the  17th  of  August,  the  very 
time  assigned  to  the  insurrection  and  im- 
prisonment. 

8  Sir  Humphrey  had  fled  from  the  defeat 
at  Hexham  in  1464,  and  concealed  himself 
during  five  years  in  a  cave  opening  into  the 
river  Derwent.— Year-book,  Ter.  Pasch. 
4  Ed.  IV.  20.  » 

8  "  By  fayre  spache  and  promyse  th» 
kynge  scaped  oute  of  the  Bisshoppes  hands/ 
— Warkworth,  p.  7. 

G  2 


LDWA11D  IV. 


LOHAF.  n. 


Kobin  of  Redesdale,  to  the  time  when 
they  were  dismissed  by  the  earl  of 
Warwick  at  Olney.1 

5.  Elizabeth  had  not  yet  borne  her 
husband  a  son,  and  though  the  eldest 
daughter   was   but   four   years   old, 
Edward  in  this  assembly  asked  the 
advice  of  the  lords,  how  he  should 
dispose  of  the  young  princess  in  mar- 
riage.   For  his  own  part,  he  wished 
to  give  her  to  George,  the  son  of  the 
earl   of  Northumberland,  and  pre- 
sumptive heir  to  all  the  three  Nevilles. 
His  choice  was  unanimously  approved; 
and  the  young  nobleman,  that  his 
rank  might  approach  nearer  to  that 
of  his  intended  bride,  was   created 
duke  of  Bedford.    This  extraordinary 
measure  has  been  explained  on  two 
suppositions;   either  that  the  king, 
alarmed  at  the  marriage  between  his 
brother  and  the  daughter  of  War- 
wick, sought  to  raise  up  a  new  and 
opposite  interest   in  the  family;    or 
that,  as  the  price  of  his  liberation,  he 
had  promised  to  give  his  daughter  to 
this  young  man,  the  son  of  a  brother 
who  had  never  offended  him,  and  the 
nephew  of  the  two  brothers  who  kept 
him  in  confinement. 

6.  To  those  who  were  not  in  the 
confidence  of  the  parties,  their  recon- 
ciliation appeared  sincere.  For  greater 
security,  a  pardon  for  all  offences  com- 
mitted before  the  feast  of  Christmas 
was  granted  to  Clarence  and  War- 
wick ;  and  in   consequence   of  the 
restoration  of  peace  within  the  realm, 


proposals  were  made  to  invade  France 
in  concert  with  the  king's  brother- 
in-law,  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  The 
French  ambassadors,  who  came  over 
probably  to  learn  the  state  of  the 
different  parties,  were  so  much  de- 
ceived, that  Louis  XI.,  in  conse- 
quence of  their  representations,  pub- 
lished an  order  to  all  his  subjects 
to  meet  in  arms  on  the  first  of  May, 
that  they  might  be  in  readiness  to 
repel  the  threatened  invasion.2  Yet 
under  this  outward  appearance  of 
harmony,  distrust  and  resentment 
festered  in  their  breasts;  and  a  sin- 
gular occurrence  proved  how  little 
faith  was  to  be  given  to  the  protes- 
tations uttered  on  either  side.  The 
archbishop  had  invited  the  king  to 
meet  Clarence  and  Warwick  at  an 
entertainment  which  he  designed  to 
give  at  his  seat  at  the  Moor,  in  Hert- 
fordshire. As  Edward  was  washing 
his  hands  before  supper,  John  Eat- 
cliffe,  afterwards  Lord  Fitz-walter, 
whispered  in  his  ear  that  one  hun- 
dred armed  men  were  lying  in  wait 
to  surprise  and  convey  him  to  prison. 
Without  inquiring  into  the  grounds 
of  the  information,  he  stole  to  the 
door,  mounted  a  horse,  and  rode  with 
precipitation  to  Windsor.  His  abrupt 
departure  revived  all  the  former  dis- 
sensions ;  fresh  conferences  were  held 
at  Baynard's  castle,  under  the  media- 
tion of  Cecily,  duchess  of  York,  the 
king's  mother ;  and  a  new  reconci- 
liation was  effected,  equally  insin- 


1  The  account  of  Edward's  escape  which 
is  generally  given  is,  that  the  archbishop 
allowed  him  to  hunt,  and  that  one  day, 
while  he  was  employed  in  that  exercise,  he 
was  carried  off  by  his  friends,— Hall,  203. 
That  which  I  have  given  depends  on  the 
superior  authority  of  the  historian  of  Croy- 
land,  who,  while  he  considers  the  king's 
liberation  almost  miraculous,  yet  asserts 
that  it  had  the  express  consent  of  Warwick. 
Praeter  omnem  spem  pene  miraculose.  non 
tarn  evasit,  quam  de  expresso  ipsius  comitis 
consensu  dimissus  est  (p.  651).  Stowe  men- 
tions  Edward's  promises,  and  that  he  re- 
mained at  York  till  after  the  execution  of 
Sir  Humphrey  Neville  (p.  421).  In  Fecn 


there  is  a  letter  without  date,  which  I  believe 
refers  to  this  period.  It  relates  the  king's 
return  from  York  to  London  in  company 
with  the  archbishop,  who,  however,  was  not 
permitted  to  enter  the  capital  with  him,  but 
ordered  to  remain  at  the  Moor,  his  seat  in 
Hertfordshire.  The  earl  of  Oxford,  a  Lan- 
castrian, was  treated  in  the  same  manner. 
—"The  king,"  adds  the  writer,  "hath 
himself  good  language  of  the  lords  of  Cla- 
rence and  Warwick,  and  of  my  lords  of 
York  and  Oxford,  saying  they  be  his  b«tst 
friends ;  but  his  household  men  have  other 
language,  so  that  what  shall  hastily  fall,  I 
cannot  say." — Fenn,  i.  294. 
2  Monstrel.  addit.  p.  33. 


A.D.  1470.]         INSURRECTION  IN  LINCOLNSHIRE. 


85 


cere  with  those  which  had  preceded 
it.1 

7.  During  these  conferences  an  in- 
surrection burst  out  in  Lincolnshire, 
of  which  the  king  could  at  first 
discover  neither  the  real  object  nor 
the  authors.  The  inhabitants,  pro- 
voked by  the  extortions  of  the  officers 
of  the  household,  rose  in  arms,  chased 
Sir  Robert  Burgh,  a  purveyor,  out  of 
the  county,  burnt  his  mansion,  and 
pillaged  his  estates.  This  outrage, 
and  the  fear  of  punishment,  bound 
them  more  strongly  to  each  other, 
and  emboldened  Sir  Robert  Welles,  a 
partisan  of  "Warwick,  and  the  real 
instigator  of  the  rising,  to  place  him- 
self openly  at  their  head.  The  king 
commissioned  several  persons,  and 
among  them  the  duke  and  earl,  to 
levy  troops  for  his  service ;  and  be- 
fore he  left  London  sent  for  the  lord 
Welles,  father  of  Sir  Robert,  and  for 
Sir  Thomas  Dyrnock,  the  champion, 
to  appear  before  the  council.2  They 
wavered,  obeyed  the  summons,  then 
fled  to  a  sanctuary,  and  afterwards, 
on  a  promise  of  pardon,  repaired  to 
the  court.  Edward  insisted  that  Lord 
Welles  should  employ  his  paternal 
authority,  and  command  his  son  to 
submit  to  the  royal  mercy;  but  the 
young  man  at  the  same  time  received 
letters  from  Warwick  and  Clarence, 
exhorting  him  to  persevere,  and 
assuring  him  of  speedy  and  powerful 
aid.  When  the  king  had  reached 
Stamford,  and  found  that  Sir  Robert 
was  yet  in  arms,  he  ordered,  in  viola- 
tion of  his  promise,  the  father  and 
Dymock  to  be  beheaded ;  and  sent  a 


second  summons  to  Sir  Robert,  who 
indignantly  replied,  that  he  would 
never  trust  to  the  perfidy  of  the 
man  who  had  murdered  his  parent. 
This  answer  was,  however,  dictated 
by  resentment  and  despair.  The 
king  attacked  the  insurgents  at 
Erpingham,  in  Rutlandshire :  his 
artillery  mowed  down  their  ranks; 
their  leaders  were  taken;  and  while 
the  meaner  prisoners  were  dismissed, 
Sir  Thomas  Delalaunde  and  Sir  Robert 
Welles  paid  the  forfeit  of  their  lives. 
Their  confessions  show  that  the  insur- 
rection had  been  got  up  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  Clarence  and  Warwick,  that  a 
confidential  emissary  from  the  duke 
regulated  the  movements  of  the  force, 
and  that  the  avowed  object  was  to 
raise  Clarence  to  the  throne  in  place 
of  his  brother  Edward.3  They  had 
received  orders  to  avoid  an  engage- 
ment, and  to  march  into  Leicester- 
shire ;  but  chance  or  mismanagement 
brought  them  into  collision  with  the 
royalists,  and  their  total  defeat  placed 
the  leaders,  Clarence  and  Warwick, 
in  a  most  perplexing  situation.  They 
had  purposed  to  join  Sir  Robert 
Welles  on  the  morrow ;  now,  unable 
to  cope  with  the  king,  they  advanced 
towards  Yorkshire,  having  previously 
by  proclamation  ordered  every  man 
able  to  bear  arms  to  join  them,  under 
the  penalty  of  death.4  The  king  was 
at  Doncaster  when  they  reached  Es- 
terfield,  at  the  distance  of  twenty 
miles ;  and,  having  arrayed  his  forces, 
he  sent  Garter-king-at-arms  to  sum- 
mon them  to  appear  before  him,  and 
clear  themselves  of  the  offences  laid 


1  Fragment,  302.    Fab.  499.    The  author 
of  the  Fragment  is  singularly  unfortunate 
in  his  dates.    He  places  this  incident  in  the 

S  resent  year  after  Easter.    Yet  it  is  evident 
rom    authentic    records,    and    subsequent 
events,  that  if  it  happened  at  all,  it  must 
have  happened  before  Lent. 

2  Rym.  Ti.  652.    Sir  John  Paston  in  one 
of  his  letters  says,  "  My  lord  of  Warwick, 
as  it  in  supposed,  shall  go  with  the  king  into 
Lincolashire ;  Borne  mon  say  that  his  going 


shall  do  good,  some  sav  that  it  doth  harm." — 
Fenn,  ii.  32. 

s  Rot.Parl.vi.144.  "As  the  said  Sir  Robert 
Welles,  &c.  have  openly  confessed  and 
showed  before  his  said  highness,  the  lords 
of  his  blood,  and  the  multitude  of  his  sub- 
jects attending  upon  him  in  his  host  at  this 

time which  they  affirmed  to  be  true  at 

their  deaths,  uncompelled,  unstirred,  and 
undesired  so  to  do." — Ibid.  p.  233.  The 
confession  of  Sir  Robert  is  still  extant.— 
Eicerp.  Hist.  292.  *  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  233. 


EDWARD  IV. 


LCIIAP.  TI. 


to  tneir  charge.  They  immediately 
turned  to  the  west,  and  marched  to 
Manchester,  to  solicit  the  aid  of  the 
lord  Stanley,  who  had  married  the 
sister  of  Warwick.  Want  of  provi- 
sions prevented  the  pursuit  by  the 
royal  army,  and  Edward,  hastening 
to  York,  published  a  proclamation,  in 
which  ho  enumerated  their  offences, 
but  exhorted  them  to  return  to  their 
duty  within  a  certain  term,  assuring 
them,  that  if  they  could  vindicate 
their  innocence,  he  would  accept  their 
justification  with  pleasure ;  and  that 
if  they  could  not,  he  would  still 
remember  that  they  were  allied 
to  him  by  blood,  and  had  been 
once  numbered  amongst  his  dearest 
friends.1  But  at  the  same  time  he 
took  from  Clarence  the  lieutenancy 
of  Ireland,  and  gave  it  to  the  earl  of 
Worcester;  restored  to  Henry  Percy 
the  earldom  of  Northumberland  and 
the  wardenship  of  the  east  marches, 
giving  in  compensation  to  Warwick's 
brother,  who  had  held  them  ever 
since  the  battle  of  Towton,  the 
barren  title  of  Marquis  Montague; 
and  having  learned  that  the  fugitives, 
unable  to  corrupt  the  fidelity  of  the 
lord  Stanley,  had  marched  to  the 
south,  issued  commissions  to  array 
the  population  of  all  the  counties 
through  which  it  was  probable  they 
would  pass.  From  York  he  hastened 
to  Nottingham;  where,  as  the  time 
allotted  to  them  had  expired,  he 
declared  them  traitors,  and  having 
offered  rewards  for  their  apprehen- 
sion, continued  his  march  with  the 
greatest  expedition.2  But  they  fled 
more  rapidly  than  he  could  pursue, 
and  had  sailed  from  Dartmouth  by 
the  time  that  he  had  reached  Exeter. 
.At  Southampton  they  made  a  bold 
atteinpj  to  cut  out  of  the  roads  a 
large  vessel,  the  Trinity,  belonging 


to  the  earl  of  Warwick ;  but  were 
repulsed  with  considerable  loss  by  the 
exertions  of  the  lord  Scales.  Edward 
arrived  in  a  short  time ;  and  by  his 
orders  the  prisoners  made  in  the  late 
action,  about  twenty  in  number,  were 
delivered  to  TiptofF,  earl  of  Worces- 
ter, and  earl  constable,  by  whom  they 
were  condemned  to  be  drawn,  hanged, 
and  quartered.  But  he  was  not  satis- 
fied with  the  death  of  his  victims. 
The  indignities  inflicted  on  their 
remains  for  the  space  of  three  weeks 
excited  the  execration  of  the  people, 
and  earned  for  TiptofF  himself  the 
nickname  of  the  Butcher.3 

Warwick  had  intrusted  the  govern- 
ment of  Calais  to  a  gentleman  of 
Gascony,  named  Vauclerc,  a  knight 
of  the  garter.  To  his  dismay  and 
astonishment  the  batteries  of  the 
place  opened  upon  him,  as  he  at- 
tempted to  enter.  It  was  in  vain 
that  he  sent  an  officer  to  remonstrate. 
Vauclerc,  acquainted  with  the  recent 
transactions  in  England,  had  resolved 
to  play  a  deep,  but,  he  trusted,  a 
secure  game.  To  Warwick  he  apolo- 
gized for  his  conduct,  by  informing 
him  that  the  garrison  was  disaffected, 
and  would,  if  he  landed,  infallibly 
betray  him.  At  the  same  time  he 
despatched  a  messenger  to  Edward 
with  assurances  of  his  loyalty,  and 
his  determination  to  preserve  so  im- 
portant a  fortress  for  his  sovereign. 
What  impression  his  reasons  made  on 
the  mind  of  Warwick  we  know  not ; 
but  Edward  rewarded  Vauclerc  with 
tbe  government  of  Calais,  and  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  granted  him  a 
pension  of  a  thousand  crowns.  The 
fugitives,  after  some  deliberation, 
steered  their  course  towards  Nor- 
mandy, captured  every  Flemish  mer- 
chantman which  fell  in  their  way,  and 
were  received  at  Harfleur  with  dis- 


1  Ibid,  and  Fenn,  ii.  36. 

z  Ibid.  Rym.  654—657.  The  reward  was 
100Z.  per  Hnnum  in  land  or  1,0002.  in  money, 
lleuce  we  iuuy  infer  that  land  in  this  reign 


sold  at  ten  years'  purchase. 

»  Warkworth,  p.  9.  Stowe,  p.  422.  Ille 
trux  carnifex,  et  bominura  decollator  hor- 
ridus.— Notes  to  Warkworth,  p.  63. 


A.D.  1470.J     RECEPTION  OP  THE  EXILES  BY  LOUIS. 


tinguished  honours  by  the  admiral  of 
France.1 

Louis  XL  had  hitherto  espoused 
but  faintly  the  cause  of  the  house  of 
Lancaster;  but  he  now  saw  the  ad- 
vantages to  be  derived  from  the  arrival 
of  Warwick  and  his  friends,  and  or- 
dered them  and  their  ladies  to  be 
provided  with  the  best  accommoda- 
tions in  the  neighbouring  towns. 
Clarence  and  the  earl  were  invited 
to  his  court  at  Amboise  and  Angers, 
where  they  met  Henry's  queen,  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou.  No  two  persons  had 
ever  inflicted  more  serious  injuries  on 
each  other  than  the  earl  and  that 
princess ;  but  misfortune  blunted  the 
edge  of  their  mutual  hatred,  and  in- 
terest induced  them  to  forget  their 
past  enmity.  After  a  decent  struggle, 
Margaret  suffered  her  antipathy  to  be 
subdued  by  Warwick's  oaths  and  the 
authority  of  Louis.  The  earl  acknow- 
ledged Henry  for  his  rightful  sove- 
reign, and  bound  himself  to  aid  her, 
to  the  best  of  his  power,  in  her 
efforts  to  restore  her  husband  to  the 
throne.  She  promised  on  the  gospels 
never  to  reproach  him  with  the  past, 
but  to  repute  him  a  true  and  faithful 
subject  for  the  future.  To  cement 
their  friendship,  it  was  agreed  that 
the  prince,  her  son,  should  marry  his 
daughter  Anne ;  and  to  lull  the  pro- 
bable discontent  of  Clarence,  that  in 
failure  of  issue  by  such  marriage,  the 
right  to  the  crown  should,  on  the 
death  of  the  prince,  devolve  on  the 
duke ;  and  lastly,  Louis  in  conse- 
quence of  this  reconciliation,  engaged 
to  furnish  the  aid  which  Warwick 
required  for  his  projected  expedition 
to  England.2 
The  only  persons  dissatisfied  with 


his  arrangement  were  Clarence  and 
his  consort.  He  had  hitherto  been 
nduced  to  follow  the  councils  of 
Warwick  by  the  prospect  of  succeed- 
ng  to  his  brother  on  the  throne ;  he 
now  saw  another  claimant  interposed 
>etween  himself  and  the  object  of  his 
ambition,  and  his  chance  of  success 
nade  to  depend  on  a  distant  and  very 
uncertain  contingency.  His  discon- 
ient  was  artfully  fomented  by  the 
ntrigues  of  a  female  agent.  A  lady 
n  the  suite  of  the  duchess  of  Clarence 
lad  in  the  hurry  of  the  flight  been 
.eft  in  England,  but  was  permitted  to 
follow,  in  appearance  through  the 
attention  of  the  king  to  his  sister-m- 
aw, in  reality,  that  she  might  carry- 
private  instructions  to  the  duke.  She 
represented  to  that  prince  how  unna- 
tural it  was  for  him  to  fight  against 
his  brother,  and  to  support  the  cause 
of  a  family,  the  prosperity  of  which 
must  depend  on  the  destruction  of 
bis  own.  The*?  suggestions  were  not 
lost  on  a  min'  ^  aady  predisposed  to 
receive  them ;  and  the  duke,  it  is  said, 
found  the  means  to  assure  Edward, 
that  when  the  occasion  should  offer, 
he  would  prove  himself  t  loyal  subject 
and  affectionate  kinsman.3 

The  conduct  of  that  prince  during 
this  interval  is  a  ^iost  inexplicable. 
If  we  except  the  execution  of  some, 
and  the  banishment  of  others,  among 
the  adherents  of  Warwick,  he  took 
no  precautions  to  avert,  made  no 
preparations  to  meet,  the  approaching 
storm.  His  time  was  spent  in  gal- 
lantries and  amusements ;  the  two 
brothers  of  Warwick  were  received 
into  favour  ;  and  one  of  them,  the 
marquess  Montague,  was  honoured 
with  the  royal  confidence.4  In  such 


1  Commines,  iii.  4.    Monstrel.  addit.  31 

2  Com.  ibid.     Hall,  206,  207.     Frag.  304 
Lei.  Coll.  ii.  503.    Ellis,  i.  132.    Warkworth 
11.     That  this  marriage  actually  took  place 
is  clear  both  from  the  testimony  of  pur  own 
historians,   and  from  the   order   given  by 
Louis  that  the  city  of  Paris  should  receive 
in  public  procession  the  queen  of  Englanc 


avec  son  fils  le  prince  de  Galles  et  gafemme 
fllle  dudit  comte  de  Warvick,  avec  la  femme 
dudit  de  Warvick  mere  de  la  femme  dudit 
prince  de  Galles.— Monst.  Nouvelles  Chro- 
niques,  35.  3  Commines,  iii.  5. 

*  Though  the  archbishop  was  allowed  to 
remain  at  the  Moor  in  Hertfordshire,  "  ther 
was  beleffte  with  him  dyverse  of  the  kynge'a 


ss 


EDWARD  IV. 


LCHAP.  II. 


circumstances,  no  man  but  the  in- 
fatuated monarch  himself  entertained 
a  doubt  of  the  result,  if  Warwick 
should  effect  a  landing.  That  noble- 
man had  always  been  the  favourite, 
his  exile  had  made  him  the  idol,  of 
the  people ;  no  ballad  was  popular  in 
the  towns  and  villages  which  did  not 
resound  his  praise ;  and  every  pageant 
and  public  exhibition  made  allusions  to 
his  virtues  and  his  misfortunes.  But 
if  Edward  was  indolent,  his  brother- 
in-law,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  was 
active.  He  sent  emissaries  to  Calais 
to  watch  the  conduct  of  Vauclerc; 
complained  to  the  parliament  of  Paris 
of  the  reception  which  had  been  given 
to  his  enemy ;  sought  by  menaces  and 
preparations  of  war  to  intimidate 
Louis  ;  seized  all  the  French  mer- 
chandise in  his  territories  as  an  in- 
demnity for  the  captures  made  by 
Warwick ;  and  despatched  a  powerful 
squadron  to  blockade  the  mouth  of 
the  river  Seine.  But  the  Burgundian 
ships  were  dispersed  by  a  storm ;  and 
the  next  morning  the  exiles,  under 
the  protection  of  a  French  fleet,  left 
their  anchorage,  and  steering  across 
the  Channel,  landed  without  oppo- 
sition at  Plymouth  and  Dartmouth.1 
The  incautious  Edward  had  been 
drawn  as  far  as  York  by  an  artifice 
of  the  lord  Fitzhugh,  brother-in-law 
to  Warwick,  who  pretended  to  raise  a 
rebellion  in  Northumberland,  and  on 
the  approach  of  the  king,  retired 
within  the  borders  of  Scotland.2  Thus 
the  southern  counties  were  left  open 
to  the  invaders.  The  men  of  Kent 
had  risen  in  arms;  in  London  Dr. 
Goddard  preached  at  St.  Paul's  Cross 
in  favour  of  the  title  of  Henry  VI. ; 
Warwick  proclaimed  that  monarch, 
ordered  all  men  between  sixteen  and 
sixty  to  join  his  standard,  and  marched 


servantes,"  evidently  to  watch  his  motions. 
-Fenn,  ii.  48. 

1  Commines,  ibid.  Hall,  207,  208.  Tbe 
duke  of  Burgundy  wrote  to  Edward  with 
unusual  warmth  on  these  subjects.  Par  St. 


with  an  army,  which  increased  every 
hour,  in  a  direct  lino  towards  Not- 
tingham. The  thoughtless  king  had 
affected  to  treat  the  invasion  with 
his  usual  levity;  he  was  happy  that 
his  enemies  had  at  last  put  themselves 
in  his  power,  and  trusted  that  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  would  prevent 
their  escape  by  sea.  But  the  delu- 
sion was  soon  dissipated.  Very  few 
of  those  whom  he  had  summoned 
resorted  to  his  quarters  at  Doncaster; 
and  of  these  few,  many  took  the  first 
opportunity  to  depart.  As  he  sat  at 
dinner,  or  lay  in  bed,  word  was 
brought  that  Warwick  continued  to 
approach  with  the  utmost  expedition ; 
nor  had  he  recovered  from  his  sur- 
prise before  a  second  messenger  in- 
formed him  that  six  thousand  men, 
who  had  hitherto  worn  the  white 
rose,  had,  at  the  instigation  of  Mon- 
tague, thrown  away  that  device,  and 
tossing  their  bonnets  into  the  air  had 
cried,  "God  bless  King  Harry/'  A 
battalion  of  guards  was  immediately 
despatched  to  secure  a  neighbouring 
bridge,  and  the  king,  after  a  short 
consultation  with  his  friends,  mount- 
ing his  horse,  rode  without  stopping 
to  the  town  of  Lynn.  He  found  in 
the  harbour  an  English  ship  and  two 
Dutch  brigs ;  and  embarking  in  them 
with  a  few  noblemen  and  about  eight 
hundred  followers,  compelled  the 
sailors  to  weigh  anchor,  and  steer 
immediately  for  the  coast  of  Holland. 
The  fugitives  were  descried  by  a  fleet 
of  pirates  from  the  Hanse  Towns ; 
and,  to  escape  the  pursuit  of  these 
unknown  enemies,  the  king  was  com- 
pelled to  run  his  vessel  on  shore.  He 
landed  near  Alkmaar,  was  received 
with  every  token  of  respect  by  Gru- 
tuse,  the  governor  of  that  province, 
and  conducted  by  him  to  the  Hague, 


George,  says  he  in  one  of  his  letters,  si  Ton 
n'y  pourvoid,  a  1'aide  de  Dieu  j'y  pouryeoi- 
rai  sans  yos  congie"s  n'y  vo3  raisons. — Ipud 
Duclos,  ii.  p.  11. 
2  Fab.  500.     Feun,  ii.  4B. 


A.D.  1-J70.J 


HENRY  RESTORED. 


to  meet  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  Thus, 
by  his  presumption  and  inactivity, 
did  Edward  lose  his  crown,  before  he 
could  strike  one  blow  to  preserve  it.1 

Queen  Elizabeth  with  her  family 
nad  remained  in  the  Tower;  but 
perceiving  that  the  tide  of  loyalty 
had  turned  in  favour  of  Henry,  she 
left  that  fortress  secretly,  and  fled 
with  her  mother  and  three  daughters 
to  the  sanctuary  of  Westminster, 
where  she  was  shortly  afterwards  de- 
livered of  a  son.2  Within  a  few  days 
Clarence  and  Warwick  made  their 
triumphal  entry  into  the  capital. 
Henry  was  immediately  conducted 
from  the  Tower  to  the  bishop's  palace; 
and  thence  walked  in  solemn  proces- 
sion, with  the  crown  on  his  head,  to 
the  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's.  His 
friends  attributed  his  restoration  to 
the  undoubted  interposition  of 
Heaven  ;3  by  foreign  nations  it  was 
viewed  with  wonder,  or  treated  with 
ridicule;  to  himself  it  is  doubtful 
whether  it  proved  a  source  of  joy  or 
regret.  He  had  been  the  captive  of 
Edward ;  he  was  now  the  slave  of 
Warwick.4 

By  a  parliament  summoned  in  the 
name  of  the  restored  king,  Edward 
was  pronounced  an  usurper,  his  ad- 
herents were  attainted,  and  all  acts 
passed  by  his  authority  were  repealed. 
The  next  step  was  to  ratify  the  con- 
vention of  Amboise.  An  act  of  settle- 
ment entailed  the  crown  on  the  issue 
male  of  Henry  VI.,  and  in  default  of 
such  issue,  on  the  duke  of  Clarence 


and  the  heirs  of  his  body;  and  ap- 
pointed that  prince,  with  his  father- 
in-law,  protectors  of  the  realm  during 
the  minority  of  Edward,  the  present 
prince  of  Wales.  All  the  lords  who 
had  suffered  for  their  attachment  to 
the  cause  of  Henry,  recovered  their 
titles  and  property;  Clarence  was 
made  heir  to  his  late  father,  Richard 
duke  of  York,  promoted  to  the  lieu- 
tenancy of  Ireland,  and  in  place  of  some 
manors,  which  had  belonged  to  Lan- 
castrians, received  other  grants  of 
equal,  perhaps  of  superior  value; 
Warwick  reassumed  his  offices  of 
chamberlain  of  England  and  captain 
of  Calais,  to  which  was  added  that  of 
lord  high  admiral ;  his  brother  the 
archbishop  was  again  intrusted  with 
the  seals ;  and  his  other  brother  the 
marquess  recovered  the  wardenship 
of  the  marches.5  But  if  the  conquer- 
ors thus  provided  for  themselves,  it 
must  be  added  in  their  praise  that 
their  triumph  was  not  stained  with 
blood.  The  only  man  who  suffered 
was  the  earl  of  Worcester,  whose 
cruelty  in  the  office  of  constable  has 
been  already  mentioned.  "  He  was 
juged  by  such  lawe  as  he  dyde  to 
other  menne ;"  but  his  remains  were 
"  buryede  with  alle  the  honoure  and 
worschyppe  that  his  frendes  coude 
do."6 

To  no  one  did  this  sudden  revolu- 
tion afford  greater  satisfaction  than 
to  Louis  of  France.  By  his  orders 
it  was-celebrated  with  public  thanks- 
givings and  rejoicings  for  three  days, 


1  Cont.    Croyl.    554.    Commines,    iii.    5. 
Fragment,    306.     Stowe,    422.    Hall,    209. 
Edward  after  his  restoration  rewarded  Gru- 
tuse  with  the  earldom  of  Winchester,  which 
that  nobleman  was  induced  to  resign  by 
Henry  VII. 

2  Stowe,  422,  423.    Fenn,  ii.  52. 

3  Cont.  Croyl.  554,  who  adds,  though  him- 
self a  Yorkist,  that  the  Lancastrians  were 
at  that  period  the  more  numerous  party. — 
Ibid. 

*  A  foreigner  writing  on  the  subject  to 
the  cardinal  of  Pavia,  says :  Eidebunt  pos- 
teri,  credo,  aut  ut  miracula  mirabuntur, 


cum  audierint  tantum  esse  hujus  comitia 
ingenium  ut  indomitam  gentem  tarn  facile 
regat,  novos  reges  fecerit,  his  denuo  pul- 
sis  veteres  revocarit,  et  ipse  pulsus  intra 
vertentem  annum,  mult  is  intra  et  extra 
regnum  adversantibus,  in  idem  regnum 
redierit,  &c.— Hesdini,  Oct.  xi.  1470.  Apud 
Eaynal.  eodem  anno. 

s  Cont.  Croyl.  554.  Eym.  xi.  661—679, 
693—696,  699—705.  When  the  proceedings 
of  Henry's  parliament  were  afterwards  re- 
pealed, it  is  probable  that  they  were  also 
cancelled.  They  do  not  now  appear  en  the 
rolls.— Bot.  Parl.  vi.  191. 

c  \Varkworth,  p.  13. 


90 


EBTTAED  IV. 


i  CHAP.  II, 


and  Margaret  was  received  at  Paris 
with  the  same  distinction  as  a  queen 
of  France.  To  compliment  Henry, 
a  splendid  embassy  proceeded  to 
London,  and  a  treaty  of  peace  and 
commerce  for  fifteen  years  cemented 
the  union  between  the  two  crowns.1 
The  duke  of  Burgundy,  on  the  con- 
trary, found  himself  placed  in  a  most 
distressing  dilemma.  Edward  had  fled 
to  him  and  solicited  his  aid.  Could 
he  refuse  the  brother  of  his  consort  ? 
The  dukes  of  Exeter  and  Somerset 
had  reached  his  court,  and  reminded 
him  that  he  was  descended  from  the 
same  ancestor  as  Henry.  Could  he 
contribute  to  dethrone  a  prince  of 
his  own  blood  ?  By  aiding  Edward, 
he  might  provoke  Henry  to  espouse 
the  cause  of  Louis,  who  had  already 
wrested  from  him  a  rich  and  populous 
territory :  by  refusing  to  aid  him,  he 
should  expose  himself  to  equal  danger 
from  the  friendship  between  the  two 
crowns.  At  last  he  adopted  the 
crooked,  but  in  this  instance  suc- 
cessful policy,  of  rejecting  in  publio, 
while  he  favoured  in  private,  the  cause 
of  the  exile.  By  proclamation  he 
forbade  under  severe  penalties  any  of 
his  subjects  to  lend  assistance  to 
Edward;  in  secret  he  made  him  a  pre- 
sent of  fifty  thousand  florins,  ordered 
four  large  ships  to  be  equipped  for 
his  use  at  Vere,  in  Holland,  and 
hired  fourteen  vessels  from  the  Hanse 
Towns  to  transport  him  from  Flush- 
ing to  England.2 

About  the  middle  of  Lent  the 
hostile  fleet  was  descried  off  the  coast 
of  Suffolk ;  but  the  preparations  which 
had  been  made,  and  the  activity  of  a 
brother  to  the  earl  of  Oxford,  deterred 
it  from  approaching  the  land.  Con- 
tinuing his  course  to  the  north,  Ed  ward 


was  driven  by  a  storm  into  the  mouth 
of  the  Humber,  and  with  ten  or  fifteen 
hundred  men  disembarked  at  Raven- 
spur,  the  very  place  where  Henry  IV. 
landed  to  dethrone  Richard  II.  The 
hostility  of  the  inhabitants  induced 
him  to  imitate  the  dissimulation  and 
perjury  of  that  monarch.  He  exhi- 
bited a  pretended  safe-conduct  from 
the  earl  of  Northumberland ;  protested 
that  he  came  not  to  claim  the  throne, 
but  the  inheritance  of  his  late  father, 
the  duke  of  York ;  wore  in  his  bonnet 
an  ostrich  feather,  the  device  of  Edward, 
the  Lancastrian  prince  of  Wales ;  and 
ordered  his  followers  to  shout  "  Long 
live  King  Henry,"  in  every  village  and 
town  through  which  they  passed.  At 
the  gates  of  York,  and  afterwards  on 
the  altar  of  the  cathedral,  he  was 
compelled  to  abjure  on  oath,  in  pre- 
sence of  the  corporation  and  clergy, 
all  his  pretensions  to  the  crown.3 
Such  a  reception  was  not  calculated 
to  flatter  his  hopes ;  but  he  had 
staked  his  life  on  the  result;  he 
resolved  to  press  forward ;  and  the 
boldness  and  decision  which  marked 
his  conduct,  contrasted  with  the  in- 
activity, timidity,  and  irresolution  of 
his  adversaries,  will  justify  a  suspicion 
that  he  possessed  resources,  and  was 
encouraged  by  promises,  of  which 
others  were  ignorant.  At  Pontefract 
lay  the  marquess  Montague  with  all 
the  forces  which  he  could  muster. 
Edward  passed  within  four  miles  of 
the  head-quarters  of  his  adversary, 
and  not  a  sword  was  drawn  to  im- 
pede or  retard  his  progress.4  But  the 
rivulet,  as  it  rolled  on,  was  swelled  by 
the  accession  of  numberless  streams  ; 
at  Nottingham  the  exile  saw  himself 
at  the  head  of  several  thousand  men ; 
and  in  his  proclamations  he  assumed 


*  Rym.  xi.  683,  690. 

2  Commines,  iii.  6.  He  had  900  English 
and  300  Flemings,  "  with  hange  gunns," — 
Warkworth,  13  j  Lei.  Coll.  ii.  503,  "  hande 
^oanes." 


8  So  say  the  Lancastrian  writers ;  and  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  them,  though  pro- 
mises and  protestations  are  substituted  in 
the  place  of  oaths  in  the  Historic  of  the 
arrival  of  Edward  IV.  by  one  of  his  suite, 
p.  5.  See  Appendix  H.  *  Fenn,  ii.  62» 


A.L\  1471.] 


BATTLE  OF  BARNET. 


91 


the  title  of  king,  and  summoned  every 
loyal  subject  to  hasten  to  the  aid  of 
his  sovereign.  Clarence  also  threw 
off  the  mask.  He  had  raised  a  nu- 
merous body  of  men  under  a  com- 
mission from  Henry ;  he  now  ordered 
them  to  wear  the  white  rose  over 
their  gorgets,  and  joined  his  brother 
near  Coventry,  where  the  earls  of 
Warwick  and  Oxford  had  concen- 
trated their  forces.  Both  the  battle 
and  the  reconciliation,  which  Edward 
offered,  were  obstinately  refused ;  and 
the  Yorkists  directed  their  march 
with  expedition  to  the  capital,  which 
had  been  intrusted  to  the  care 
of  the  archbishop.  That  prelate 
already  began  to  waver.  In  the 
morning  he  conducted  Henry,  deco- 
rated with  the  insignia  of  royalty, 
through  the  streets  of  the  city;  in 
the  afternoon  he  ordered  the  recorder 
Urswick  to  admit  Edward  by  a  pos- 
tern in  the  walls.  In  his  excuse  it 
was  alleged,  that  the  party  of  the 
house  of  York  had  gained  the  as- 
cendancy among  the  citizens ;  that 
the  richest  of  the  merchants  were 
he  creditors  of  Edward;  that  his 
affability  and  gallantries  had  attached 
numbers  to  his  interests;  and  that 
the  sanctuaries  contained  two  thou- 
sand of  his  adherents,  ready  at  a 
signal  to  uusheath  the  sword  in  his 
favour.  However  that  may  be,  the 
archbishop  secured  a  pardon  for  him- 
self, and  ruined  the  cause  of  his 
brothers.1  Warwick  and  Montague 
followed  their  adversary,  expecting  to 
find  him  encamped  before  the  capital ; 
but  he,  apprehensive  of  the  Lan- 
castrians within  its  walls,  immediately 
left  it,  and  taking  Henry  with  him, 
advanced  to  meet  his  pursuers.  Cla- 


rence, who  felt  some  compunction  for 
the  part  which  he  had  acted,  sent  to 
offer  his  services  as  mediator  between 
his  father-in-law  and  his  brother. 
"Go  and  tell  your  master,"  replied 
the  indignant  earl,  "that  Warwick, 
true  to  his  word,  is  a  better  man  than 
the  false  and  perjured  Clarence.3* 
He  had  appealed  to  the  sword;  he 
would  admit  of  no  other  arbiter  be- 
tween him  and  his  enemies.2 

It  was  late  on  Easter-eve  when  the 
hostile  armies  met  a  little  to  the  north 
of  the  town  of  Barnet.  Warwick 
had  already  chosen  his  ground ; 
Edward  made  his  preparations  dur- 
ing the  darkness  of  the  night ;  in 
consequence  of  which,  he  posted  by 
mistake  his  right  wing  in  front  of  the 
enemy's  centre,  while  his  left  stretched 
far  away  to  the  west.  But  at  day- 
break a  fog  of  unusual  density  con- 
cealed from  both  parties  their  relative 
position ;  and  at  five  o'clock  the  king 
gave  by  trumpet  the  signal  for  battle. 
It  lasted  four  or  five  hours,  but  i& 
described  to  us  as  a  succession  of 
partial  actions  taking  place  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  field,  as  individual 
leaders  espied  through  the  mist  an 
opportunity  of  assailing  an  opponent. 
Friends  were  repeatedly  taken  for 
foes ;  and  such  rencontres  excited  on 
both  sides  suspicion  of  treason.  The 
left  wing  of  the  Lancastrians,  having 
no  opponent  in  front,  drew  towards 
their  centre :  and  accumulating  in 
number  trampled  down  the  extreme 
right  of  the  Yorkists,  and  pursued  the 
fugitives  through  Barnet  on  the  road 
to  the  capital.  From  the  same  cause 
the  Yorkists  on  the  left  gradually 
approached  and  reinforced  their 
centre,  where  Edward  was  contend- 


1  "He  was  doble  (as  men  suppose)  to 
King  Henry,  and  kept  hym  at  London, 
when  he  woold  have  beene  at  Westminster. 
He  had  lettres  of  King  Edward  to  kepe 
King  Henry  out  of  Sanctuary." — Lei.  Coll. 
ii.  608.  He  swore  allegiance  to  Edward  on 
the  sacrament  in  the  morning  before  the 
king  left  London  for  Barnet. — Rym.  xi.  710. 


Yet  he  was  committed  for  a  few  days  to  the 
Tower,  either  to  conceal  his  treason,  or 
through  mistrust.— Fenn,  ii.  64.  His  pardon 
includes  all  offences  committed  before 
Easter-eve.— Bym.  xi.  709. 

2  Contin.  Croyl.  554.    Speed,  881.    Com- 
mines,  iii.  7. 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAP.  11. 


ing  with  success  against  the  utmost 
efforts  of  Warwick.  On  the  earl's 
part,  his  brother  Montague  had 
already  fallen ;  the  duke  of  Exeter, 
though  wounded  only,  had  been  left 
among  the  dead ;  and  the  earl  of  Ox- 
ford, whose  badge  of  a  star  with  rays, 
so  like  to  Edward's  badge,  a  sun  with 
rays,  had  exposed  him  to  the  attack 
of  his  own  friends,  had  withdrawn  in 
distrust  with  his  corps  of  seven  hun- 
dred men,  from  the  field.  On  the 
other,  the  king  had  lost  the  lords  Say 
and  Cromwell,  and  the  son  of  the 
lord  Berners,  with  many  of  his  bravest 
knights.  At  last  the  welcome  intel- 
ligence was  brought  to  him  that  the 
body  of  Warwick  had  been  found, 
lying  near  a  thicket,  breathless  and 
despoiled  of  armour.  This  termi- 
nated the  battle  of  Barnet,  in  which, 
according  to  some  writers,  the  slain 
amounted  to  many  thousands,  though 
by  one  who  was  wounded  in  it,  the 
number  is  reduced  to  ten  or  eleven 
hundred.1  To  Edward  the  death  of 
Warwick  was  of  greater  importance 
than  any  victory.  That  nobleman  by 
a  long  course  of  success  had  acquired 
the  surname  of  the  King-maker ;  and 
the  superstition  of  the  vulgar  believed 
that  the  cause  which  he  supported 
must  finally  triumph.  His  body, 
with  that  of  his  brother  Montague, 
was  exposed  naked  for  three  days  on 
the  pavement  of  St.  Paul's,  and  then 
deposited  among  the  ashes  of  his 
fathers  in  the  abbey  of  Bilsam.  Ed- 
ward entered  the  city  in  triumph, 
remanded  the  unfortunate  Henry  to 
his  cell  in  the  Tower,  and  resumed 
the  exercise  of  the  sovereign  autho- 
rity. But  he  was  not  long  permitted 
to  indulge  in  repose  or  festivity.  He 
had  fought  at  Barnet  on  the  Sunday ; 
on  the  Friday  he  was  again  summoned 
into  the  field.  Queen  Margaret,  who 
had  been  detained  for  weeks  on  the 


French  coast  by  the  state  of  the  wea- 
ther, had  at  last  embarked  at  Har- 
fleur;  but  her  hopes  were  again  dis- 
appointed by  the  violence  of  the 
wind,  and  three  weeks  elapsed  before 
she  landed  with  a  body  of  French 
auxiliaries  at  Weymouth.  It  was 
the  very  day  of  the  battle  of  Barnet. 
She  was  hardly  recovered  from  tho 
fatigue  of  the  voyage,  when  a  mes- 
senger arrived  with  the  fatal  intel- 
ligence. All  her  hopes  were  instantly 
broken:  she  sank  to  the  ground  in 
despair ;  and  as  soon  as  she  came  to 
herself,  hastened  with  her  son  for 
safety  to  the  abbey  of  Cerne.2  But 
the  Lancastrian  lords  who  still  re- 
mained faithful  to  the  cause  induced 
her  to  quit  her  asylum,  conducted  her 
to  Bath,  and  raised  a  considerable 
body  of  troops  to  fight  under  her 
banner.  If  this  army  could  have 
joined  that  under  the  earl  of  Pem- 
broke in  Wales,  the  crown  might 
perhaps  have  been  again  replaced  on 
the  head  of  Henry.  But  the  citizens 
of  Gloucester  had  fortified  the  bridge 
over  the  Severn ;  and  when  she 
reached  Tewksbury,  Edward  was 
already  at  hand  with  a  more  nume- 
rous force.  The  Lancastrians  had 
intrenched  themselves  at  Tewksbury 
in  a  strong  position  at  the  end  of  the 
town,  covered  on  the  back  by  the  ex- 
tensive walls  of  the  abbey,  and  having 
in  front  and  oil  the  sides  a  country 
so  deeply  intersected  with  dikes  and 
hedges  and  lanes,  that  "it  was  a 
ryght  evill  place  to  approach,  as 
could  well  have  been  devysed."  On 
the  morrow,  Edward  commenced  the 
attack  with  a  heavy  cannonade,  which 
was  returned  with  spirit.  But  it  soon 
became  evident  that  the  king  had  the 
advantage  in  the  number  and  weight 
of  his  guns,  and  the  multitude  of  his 
archers,  who  poured  showers  of  arrows 
within  the  intrenchments.  Still  the 


1  Fenn,  ii.  64.  For  the  battle  compare 
The  Historic,  p.  18—20,  with  "Warkworth, 
P.  18. 17. 


2  Historic,  32.  It  was  the  countess  of 
Warwick  who  landed  at  Southampton  and 
fled  to  the  sanctuary  of  BeaoJiou. — Ibid. 


A.D.  1471.J 


MURDER  OF  PRINCE  EDWARD. 


1-3 


Lancastrians  did  not  flinch;  and, 
after  some  time,  the  duke  of  Somer- 
set, with  a  chosen  band,  stole  by  a 
circuitous  route  to  the  top  of  an 
eminence,  near  the  foot  of  which  was 
stationed  a  corps  commanded  by  the 
king  in  person.  Suddenly  they  charged 
it  in  flank ;  but  fortunately  for  Ed- 
ward, two  hundred  spearmen,  who 
had  been  detached  to  a  neighbouring 
wood,  observing  the  movement,  fell 
unexpectedly  on  the  rear  of  the 
assailants,  who  were  thrown  into  con- 
fusion, and  fled  for  their  lives.  It 
may  be  that  this  failure  disheartened 
the  Lancastrians.  The  defence  grew 
fainter  every  minute.  Soon  the  banner 
of  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  next  that 
of  Edward  himself,  waved  within  the 
intrenchment ;  and  Somerset,  as  we 
are  told,  suspecting  the  lord  Wenlock 
of  treachery,  rode  up  to  that  noble- 
man, and  at  one  stroke  beat  out  his 
brains.  The  victory  was  now  won. 
Of  the  prisoners  the  most  important 
was  the  Lancastrian  prince  of  Wales, 
who  was  taken  to  Edward  in  the 
field.  To  the  question,  what  had 
brought  him  to  England,  he  boldly 
and  ingenuously  replied,  "  To  pre- 
serve my  father's  crown  and  my  own 
inheritance."  The  king,  it  is  said, 
had  the  barbarity  to  strike  the  young 
prince  in  the  face  with  his  gauntlet ; 
Clarence  and  Gloucester,  perhaps  the 
knights  in  their  retinue,  despatched 
him  with  their  swords.1  Queen  Mar- 
garet, with  her  daughter-in-law,  and 
the  ladies  her  attendants,  had  with- 
drawn before  the  battle  to  a  small 
religious  house  in  the  neighbourhood. 
They  were  afterwards  discovered, 
and  presented  as  prisoners  to  the 
king. 


It  is  probable  that  many  of  the  Lan- 
castrian leaders  might  have  escaped 
by  flight,  if  they  had  not  sought  an 
asylum  within  the  church.  While  they 
were  triumphant,  they  had  always 
respected  the  rights  of  sanctuary; 
and  a  hope  was  cherished  that  gra- 
titude for  the  preservation  of  his  wife, 
his  children,  and  two  thousand  of  his 
partisans,  would  restrain  Edward 
from  violating  a  privilege  to  which  he 
was  so  much  indebted.  But  the 
murder  of  the  young  prince  had 
whetted  his  appetite  for  blood.  With 
his  sword  drawn  he  attempted  to 
enter  the  church  ;  but  a  priest,  in  his 
sacerdotal  garments,  with  the  conse- 
crated host  in  his  hand,  met  him  at 
the  door,  and  adjured  him,  in  the 
name  of  his  Redeemer,  to  spare  the 
lives  of  the  fugitives.  The  promise 
was  solemnly  given ;  the  king  pro- 
ceeded to  the  high  altar,  and  a  prayer 
of  thanksgiving  was  offered  up  for 
the  victory.  This  happened  on  the 
Saturday ;  on  Monday  the  duke  of 
Somerset,  the  lord  prior  of  St.  John's, 
six  knights  and  seven  esquires,  were 
dragged  before  the  dukes  of  Glou- 
cester and  Norfolk,  condemned,  and 
beheaded.  But  were  they  not  under 
the  protection  of  the  royal  promise  ? 
So  it  is  asserted  by  the  Lancastrian 
writers.  Edward's  apologists  pretend 
that,  though  the  abbey  church  had 
not  the  privilege  of  sanctuary  for 
men  guilty  of  treason,  the  promise 
was  faithfully  observed,  as  far  as 
regarded  those  who  sought  an  asylum 
within  its  walls.  The  prisoners  exe- 
cuted were  those  only  who  had  con- 
cealed themselves  in  the  abbey  itself, 
or  in  the  town.2 

There  now  remained  but  one  person 


i  Cent.  Croyl.  556.  Hollinshed,  1340. 
Stowe,  424.  Fabyan,  505.  There  may  be 
exaggerations  in  the  common  account  of 
the  prince's  death;  but  I  see  no  good 
reason  to  dispute  Stowe's  narrative :  "  He 
emote  him  on  the  face  with  his  gauntlet, 
and  after  his  servants  slew  him." — Stowe, 
ibid.  It  is  not  contradicted  by  the  writers 
who  say  that  th«  prince  fell  "in  the  war  or 


in  the  field,"  it  is  countenanced  by  those 
who  say  that  he  was  taken,  and  afterwards 
slain :  "  Such  as  abode  handstroks  were 
slayne  incontinent,  Edwarde  called  prince 
was  taken  fleeinge  to  the  townward,  and 
slayne  in  the  fielde."— Harl.  MSS.  543.  His- 
toric, p.  30. 

2  Compare  The  Historic,  p.  SO,  3),  with 
Warkworth,  p.  18. 


•   EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAI.  ii. 


whose  life  could  give  uneasiness  to 
Edward.  As  long  as  the  son  lived  to 
claim  the  crown  of  his  father,  the 
blood  of  Henry  was  not  worth  the 
shedding ;  but  now  that  the  young 
prince  was  no  more,  to  remove  the 
old  king,  was  to  remove  the  last 
temptation  from  his  adherents,  whose 
attachment  to  their  ancient  sovereign 
appeared  to  grow  with  the  decline  of 
his  fortunes.  Only  a  week  had  elapsed 
after  the  battle  of  Tewksbury  when 
the  bastard  of  Falconberg,  who  had 
been  vice-admiral  to  "Warwick,  and 
commanded  a  fleet  of  adventurers, 
made  a  bold  attempt  to  liberate  the 
royal  prisoner  from  the  Tower.  Land- 
ing at  Blackwall,  and  calling  to  his 
aid  the  commons  of  Essex  and  Kent, 
he  advanced  to  attack  the  city,  burnt 
Bishopsgate,  and  even  won  possession 
of  Aldgate ;  but  after  a  long  and 
bloody  contest  was  driven  back  to 
Stratford.  Still  he  persevered;  his 
followers  were  summoned  to  meet 


him  again  on  Blackheath,  and  a 
second  assault  had  been  arranged, 
when  the  approach  of  Edward  with 
his  victorious  army  warned  him  to 
withdraw  to  his  ships.1  It  is  probable 
that  this  bold  but  unsuccessful  at- 
tempt sealed  the  doom  of  the  unfor- 
tunate captive.  On  the  afternoon  of 
Tuesday  the  conqueror  made  his 
triumphal  entry  into  the  capital ;  on 
that  of  "Wednesday  the  dead  body  of 
Henry  was  exposed  in  St.  Paul's.  To 
satisfy  the  credulous,  it  was  reported, 
as  had  been  formerly  reported  of 
Richard  II.,  that  he  died  of  grief. 
But  though  Edward  might  silence 
the  tongues,  he  could  not  control  the 
thoughts  or  the  pens  of  his  subjects ; 2 
and  the  writers  who  lived  under  the 
next  dynasty  not  only  proclaimed  the 
murder,  but  attribute  the  black  deed 
to  the  advice,  if  not  to  the  dagger,  of 
the  youngest  of  the  royal  brothers, 
Richard  duke  of  Gloucester.3  From 
St.  Paul's  the  body  of  Henry  was 


1  The  bastard  of  Falconberg  was  Thomas, 
natural  son  of  William  Neville,  Baron  Fal- 
conberg, and  afterwards  earl  of  Kent.  On 
the  death  of  Henry  he  submitted,  and 
obtained  a  pardon  for  himself  and  his  fol- 
lowers by  the  delivery  to  the  king  of  his 
fleet  of  47  sail  (Historie,  p.  39).  But, 
though  he  had  a  charter  of  pardon,  he  could 
not  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  by  whose  orders  he  was  be- 
headed in  Yorkshire  (Warkworth,  20).  His 
head  was  fixed  on  London  Bridge  "  looking 
Kentwards,"  on  Sept.  28.— Fenn,  ii.  82. 

*  There  are  two  contemporary  writers  by 
whom  the  death  of  Henry  is  mentioned,  the 
Croyland  historian,  and  the  narrator  of  the 
manner  in  which  Edward  recovered  the 
crown  (Harl.  MSS.  543),  both  in  the  service 
of  Edward,  the  one  being  a  doctor  of  canon 
law,  and  member  of  his  council,  the  other  a 
person  who  saw  much  of  what  he  states, 
"  and  the  residue  knew  by  true  relation  of 
them  that  were  present."  Now  the  first 
employs  language  which  not  only  shows  his 
conviction  that  Henry  was  murdered,  but 
seems  to  hint  that  it  was  ordered,  if  not 
perpetrated,  by  one  of  the  brothers.  "  Par- 
cat  Deus,  et  spatium  pcenitentiae  ei  donet, 
quicumque  tarn  sacrilegas  manus  in  chnstum 
l)omini  ausus  est  immittere  :  unde  et  agens 
tyranni,  patiensque  gloriosi  martyris  titulum 
mereatnr."— Con.  Croyl.  556.  The  other 
states  merely,  as  was  stated  by  Edward's 
friends,  that  Henry  died  of  "pure  dis- 


pleasure and  melancholy."  It  detracts, 
however,  from  his  credit,  that  he  appears  in 
other  instances  to  have  suppressed  or  dis- 
guised facts  which  bore  hard  on  the  charac- 
ter of  his  patron,  particularly  Edward's 
perjury  at  York,  and  the  murder  of  the 
prince  after  the  battle  of  Tewksbury. 

3  Mr.  Laing,  in  his  dissertation  at  the  end 
of  Henry's  hiatory  (xii.  393),  undertakes  to 
acquit  Richard  of  the  murder  of  Henry,  OH 
the  ground  that  he  did  not  die  at  the  time 
assigned,  but  much  later.  The  proof  is, 
that,  as  Malone  observes  (Shakspeare,  xi. 
653),  "it  appears  on  tba  face  of  the  public 
accounts  allowed  in  tae  Exchequer  for  the 
maintenance  of  Henry  VI.  and  his  numerous 
attendants  in  the  Tower,  that  he  lived  till 
the  twelfth  of  June,  twenty-two  days  after 
the  time  assigned  for  his  pretended  assassi- 
nation." These  accounts  are  to  be  found 
in  Rym.  xi.  712.  But  they  afford  no  proof 
that  Henry  lived  till  the  12th  of  June.  The 
latest  date  of  any  particular  charge  is  that 
of  William  Sayer  for  the  maintenance  of 
Henry  and  ten  guards  for  a  fortnight,  be- 
ginning  the  llth  of  May,  and  of  course 
ending  on  the  day  on  which  the  king  is  said 
to  have  been  buried.  The  mistake  arises 
from  this,  that  Malone  has  taken  the  day  of 
the  month  on  which  the  accounts  were 
allowed  at  the  Exchequer,  for  the  day  on 
which  the  expenses  ceased  ;  which  is  so  far 
from  being  the  case,  that  it  even  belongs  to 
a  different  year,  1472,  and  not  1471;  as 


>.  1471.] 


HENRI°S  SURVIVING  ADHERENTS. 


conveyed  by  water  for  interment  at 
Chertsey,  under  a  guard  of  soldiers, 
belonging  to  the  garrison  of  Calais.1 
By  the  friends  of  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster the  deceased  monarch  was 
revered  as  a  martyr.  It  was  soon 
whispered  that  miracles  had  been 
wrought  at  his  tomb,  and  Richard 
III.,  apprehensive  of  the  impression 
which  such  reports  might  make  on 
the  public  mind,  removed  his  bones 
from  Chertsey  to  Windsor.  Henry 
VII.  placed,  or  intended  to  place, 
them  among  the  tombs  of  his  ances- 
tors in  "Westminter  Abbey.2 

Before  I  proceed  with  the  reign  of 
Edward,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
notice  the  history  of  the  surviving 
adherents  of  Henry.  — 1.  Margaret 
was  confined  first  in  the  Tower, 
afterwards  at  Windsor,  and  lastly  at 
Wallingford,  with  a  weekly  allowance 
of  five  marks  for  the  support  of 
herself  and  her  servants.  After  a 
captivity  of  five  years,  she  was  ran- 
somed by  Louis  of  France,  and  closed 
her  eventful  life  in  1482  in  her  own 
country.  2.  Henry  Holand,  duke  of 
Exeter,  and  great-grandson  of  John 
of  Ghent  by  his  second  daughter 
Elizabeth,  had  been  severely  wounded 
in  the  battle  at  Barnet,  but  was  con- 
veyed by  one  of  his  servants  from  the 
field  to  the  sanctuary  at  Westminster. 
It  was  expected  that  he  would  obtain 
his  pardon  through  the  influence  of 
his  wife  Anne,  the  eldest  sister  of 
Edward.  But  that  lady  solicited  and 
obtained  a  divorce  in  1472,  and  mar- 
ried Sir  Thomas  St.  Leger.  The 
duke  was  at  the  time  in  the  custody 


of  the  king,  with  the  weekly  allowance 
of  half  a  mark ;  the  next  year  his  dead 
body  was  found  floating  in  the  sea 
between  Dover  and  Calais.3  3.  Vere, 
earl  of  Oxford,4  had  escaped  into 
Scotland,  and  thence  into  France; 
but  disdaining  a  life  of  indolence,  ho 
collected  a  small  squadron  of  twelve 
sail,  swept  the  narrow  seas,  kept  the 
maritime  counties  in  perpetual  alarm, 
and  by  frequent  captures  enriched 
himself  and  his  followers.  With 
about  four  hundred  men  he  sur- 
prised the  strong  fortress  of  Mount 
St.  Michael  in  Cornwall,  whence  he 
made  repeated  inroads  into  the 
neighbouring  counties,  receiving  sup- 
plies from  the  friends  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  and  wreaking  his  ven- 
geance on  those  of  the  house  of  York. 
By  Edward's  command,  Sir  Henry 
Bodrugan  besieged  the  mount;  but 
his  fidelity  was  suspected ;  and  he  was 
superseded  by  Richard  Fortescue, 
sheriff  of  Cornwall.  The  new  com- 
mander had  been  a  Lancastrian  and 
a  friend  ;  he  had  recourse  to  promises 
and  persuasion  ;  and  the  earl,  appre- 
hensive of  the  treachery  of  his  own 
men,  surrendered  the  place  on  con- 
dition that  his  life  and  the  lives  of 
his  followers  should  be  spared,  with 
the  exception  of  the  lord  Beaumont 
and  Sir  Richard  Laumarth.  During 
eleven  years  he  was  confined  a  close 
prisoner  in  the  castle  of  Hamme,  in 
Picardy;  while  his  countess,  the  sister 
to  the  great  Warwick,  was  compelled 
to  support  herself  by  the  profits  of 
her  needle  and  the  secret  presents  of 
her  friends.6  4.  Though  the  arch- 


appears  from  the  two  next  accounts,  which, 
though  allowed  on  the  24th  of  June,  refer 
to  expenses  in  September  and  October  of 
1471.— See  them  in  Eym.  xi.  713,  714. 

1  See  the  Pell  Kolls.  495, 496. 

3  Rous.  217.  Eym.  xiii.  103.  Pope  Julius 
in  his  brief  says  of  Henry's  death,  ante  diem 
facto,  nt  creditur,  semulorum,  debitum  na- 
turae persolvit— and  of  the  translation  of  his 
body,  that  it  was  made  by  the  same  senmli 
gua  mente  ducti,  i^noratur. — Ibid.  But 
rte'arv  VII.  gives  the  reason  mentioned 
•br-i.-Wnk.  Con.iii.653. 


8  Stowe,  426.     Fabvan,  663. 

4  His  father  and  elder  brother  had  been 
executed  26th  February,  1462,  for  corre- 
sponding with  Queen  Margaret  after  the 
battle  of  Towton. — Frag,  ad  finem  Sprot. 
Wyrcest.  492. 

«  Stowe,  426.  Lei.  Col.  ii.  503,  509. 
Fenn,  ii.  133,  139,  142, 156.  Rot.  Parl.  TI. 
149.  He  escaped  from  Hamme  with  the 
connivance  of  the  governor,  who  had  been 
bribed  by  the  earl  of  Richmond ;  and  we 
shall  meet  with  him  again  fighting  v'ota 
riously  for  the  honse  of  Laneacter. 


96 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAF.IL 


bishop  of  York  had  rendered  the  king 
many  services,  Edward  did  not  feel 
easy  on  his  throne  as  long  as  a  Neville 
remained  at  liberty.  They  had  hunted 
together  at  Windsor ;  and  the  king  in 
return  promised  to  hunt  with  the 
prelate  at  the  Moor  in  Hertfordshire. 
The  most  magnificent  preparations 
were  made  for  his  reception ;  all  the 
plate,  which  the  archbishop  had  se- 
creted since  the  death  of  his  brothers, 
had  been  collected ;  and  the  principal 
nobility  of  the  neighbourhood  were 
invited  to  partake  of  the  entertain- 
ment. But  Edward  sent  for  him  to 
Windsor,  and  arrested  him  on  a  charge 
of  having  lent  money  to  the  earl  of 
Oxford.  The  revenue  of  his  bishopric 
was  seized ;  his  plate  confiscated ;  his 
mitre  converted  into  a  crown;  and 
his  jewels  divided  between  the  king 
and  the  prince  of  Wales.  The  prelate 
lingered  in  prison  for  three  years, 
partly  in  England  and  partly  in 
Guisnes,  and  did  not  recover  his 
liberty  till  a  few  weeks  before  his 
death,  in  the  year  1476.  5.  The  earl 
of  Pembroke,  the  uterine  brother  of 
Henry,  with  his  nephew  the  young 
earl  of  Richmond,  escaped  from  his 
town  of  Pembroke,  in  which  he  was 
besieged,  took  shipping  at  Tenby,  and 
was  driven  by  a  storm  on  the  coast 
of  Bretagne.  The  king,  as  if  he  had 
foreseen  the  severe  revenge  which 
that  young  prince  was  destined  to  in- 
flict on  the  house  of  York,  employed 
both  solicitations  and  promises  to 
have  the  uncle  and  nephew  delivered 
into  his  hands.  But  the  duke  Francis, 
though  he  stood  in  need  of  the  assist- 
ance of  Edward,  refused  to  betray 
the  exiles.  On  one  occasion,  indeed, 
his  resolution  was  shaken  by  the  offer 
of  the  English  king  to  give  him  his 
daughter  with  a  princely  portion  in 
marriage,  and  his  promise  at  the  same 
time  to  do  no  injury  to  the  captives. 
In  consequence,  Francis  delivered 
one,  the  young  earl  of  Richmond, 
to  Edward's  messengers ;  but  his  con- 


science immediately  smote  him,  and 
distrusting  the  intention  of  the  king, 
he  took  the  earl  from  them  before 
their  embarkation  at  St.  Malo.    From 
that  time  the  two  fugitives  remained 
with  him  in  a  sort  of  honourable  con- 
finement during  the  reign  of  Edward; 
the  reader  will  see  them  again  in 
England  under  that  of  his  successor.1 
6.  Of  the  other  partisans  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  the  principal,  as  soon  as 
their  hopes  were  extinguished  by  the 
death  of  Henry  and  his  son,  conde- 
scended to  implore  the  clemency  of 
Edward ;  and  that  prince,  having  no 
longer  a  competitor  to  fear,  listened 
with  greater  attention  to  their  peti- 
tions.   Hence  in  the  next  parliament 
several  attainders  were  reversed  in  fa- 
vour of  persons  whose  services  might 
prove  useful,  or  whose  influence  was  too 
inconsiderable  to  make  them  subjects 
of  jealousy.    Of  these  I  may  mention 
two,  Dr.  Morton,  parson  of  Blokes- 
worth,  and  Sir  John  Fortescue,  lord 
chief  justice,  who  had  both  been  pre- 
sent in  the  field  of  Towton,  and  both 
been  attainted  by  act  of  parliament. 
In  their  petitions  to  Edward  they  use 
nearly  the  same  expressions.    "  They 
are  as  sorrowful  and  repentant  as  any 
creatures  may  be,  for  whatever  they 
have  done  to  the  displeasure  of  the 
king's  highness ;  and  protest  that  they 
are  and  ever  will  be  true  liegemen 
and  obeissant  subjects  to  him  their 
sovereign  lord."  Acquainted  with  the 
talents  of  Morton,  Edward  had  al- 
ready granted  to  him  a  pardon,  and 
made  him  keeper  of  the  rolls.    Soon 
afterwards  he  preferred  him  to  the 
bishopric  of  Ely.    His  attachment  to 
the  sons  of  his   benefactor  earned 
for  him  the  enmity  of  Richard  III. ; 
and  to  his  counsels  were  afterwards 
ascribed  the  deposition  of  that  usurper, 
and  the  termination  of  civil  discord, 
by  the  union  of  the  two  roses  in  the 
marriage  of  Henry  VII.  with   the 


1  Com.  v.  18.    Btosve 


.  1473.]     MOliTON  AND  FORTESCfJE  PARDONED. 


97 


princess  Elizabeth.  Sir  John  For- 
tescue  had  accompanied  Margaret 
and  her  son  during  their  exile,  had 
received  from  her  the  office  of  chan- 
cellor, and  was  intrusted  hy  her  with 
the  education  of  the  young  prince. 
While  he  was  with  Henry  in  Scot- 
land he  had  written  a  treatise  in  proof 
of  the  claim  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
igainst  that  of  the  house  of  York. 
But  he  could  support  with  equal 
ability  either  side  of  the  question, 
and  after  the  death  of  Henry  wrote 
a  second  treatise  in  proof  of  the 
claim  of  the  house  of  York,  against 
the  claim  of  that  of  Lancaster. 
The  latter  seems  to  have  been  re- 
quired as  the  price  of  his  pardon.  In 
his  petition  he  assures  the  king,  "that 
he  hath  so  clearly  disproved  all  the 
arguments  that  have  been  made 
against  his  right  and  title,  that  now 
there  remaineth  no  colour  or  matter 
of  argument  to  the  hurt  or  infamy  of 
the  same  right  or  title  by  reason  of 
any  such  writing ;  but  the  same  right 
and  title  stand  now  the  more  clear 
and  open  by  that  any  such  writings 
have  been  made  against  them."1 


Thus,  after  many  a  bloody  field, 
and  the  most  surprising  vicissitudes 
of  fortune,  was  the  head  of  the  house 
of  York  seated  on  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land, apparently  without  a  competitor. 
His  eldest  son,  who  had  been  born  in 
the  sanctuary  during  his  exile,  and 
had  also  been  named  Edward,  was 
now  created  prince  of  Wales  and  earl 
of  Chester,  and  was  recognised  as 
the  heir-apparent  in  a  great  council 
of  peers  and  prelates.2  The  partisans 
of  the  house  of  Lancaster  had  no 
leader  in  England  ;  the  marauding 
expeditions  of  the  earl  of  Oxford  had 
become  subjects  of  ridicule  rather 
than  terror ;  and  the  king  was  re- 
lieved from  all  apprehensions  on  the 
part  of  Scotland  by  the  promising 
state  of  his  negotiations  with  that 
kingdom.3  His  chief  disquietude  arose 
from  the  insatiate  rapacity  of  his 
brothers,  the  dukes  of  Clarence  and 
Gloucester.  The  immense  property 
of  the  late  earl  of  Warwick  had  been 
derived  from  two  sources,  the  inheri- 
tance of  his  father  the  earl  of  Salis- 
bury, and  the  possessions  of  his  wife 
Anne,  the  heiress  to  the  noble  and 


1  See  Eot.  Parl.  vi.  26,  69.  He  maintained 
in  his  first  work  that  Philippa,  daughter  of 
Lionel  duke  of  Clarence,  through  whom  the 
house  of  York  claimed,  had  never  been 
acknowledged  by  her  father ;  in  the  second, 
that  she  was  his  legitimate  child  and  heir. 
See  extracts  from  treatises  in  "The  Here- 
ditary Eight  Asserted,"  p.  234,  235 ;  and 
App.  i.  ii.  taken  from  the  Cotton  MS.  Otho, 
B.  i.— But  the  most  important  of  the  works 
of  this  learned  judge  is  his  tract  Do  Laudi- 
bus  Legum  Angliae,  which  he  wrote  in  exile 
for  the  instruction  of  the  young  prince  who 
was  murdered  after  the  battle  of  Tewks- 
bury.  He  informs  his  royal  pupil  that  the 
English  is  not  an  absolute  but  a  limited 
monarchy.  In  the  former,  which  is  the 
offspring  of  force  and  conquest,  the  will 
of  the  prince  is  the  law;  in  the  latter, 
which  arises  from  the  free  election  of  men 
for  their  own  safety  and  convenience,  the 
king  can  neither  make  laws  nor  take  the 
goods  of  his  subjects  without  their  con- 
Bent  (c.  9,  12,  13,  14).  Of  the  superior 
advantages  of  the  latter  the  prince  could 
have  no  doubt,  if  he  would  contrast  the 
situation  of  the  lower  classes  in  his  own 
country  with  that  of  similar  classes  in 


France.  He  would  find  that  the  English 
were  better  clothed,  better  fed,  and  enjoyed 
in  greater  abundance  the  comforts  of  life 
(c.  35,  36).  He  then  proceeds  to  give  til-- 
preference to  the  English  before  the  Eoman 
law:  1.  Because  the  trial  by  jury  ia  supp- 
rior  to  that  by  witnesses ;  and  to  a  question 
from  the  young  Edward,  why  then  other 
nations  do  not  adopt  it,  he  replies,  that  they 
cannot,  because  in  no  other  country  aro 
there  to  be  found  such  numbers  of  substan- 
tial yeomen,  qualified  to  serve  aa  jurors ; 
for  perjury  in  a  juror  was  punished  with  the 
forfeiture  of  all  property  real  and  personal ; 
and  if  one  might  be  willing  to  risk  this,  the 
others  would  not  (567) ;  2.  Because  it  bas- 
tardizes the  issue  born  before  wedlock, 
whereas  the  civil  law  legitimates  it;  3.  Be- 
cause it  makes  the  child  of  the  same  con- 
dition as  the  father,  not  as  the  mother ; 
4.  Because  it  refuses  the  guardianship  of 
orphans  to  those  who  by  law  would  succeed 
to  their  estates,  &c.  This  treatise  is  de- 
serving of  attention,  because  it  sh'ows  what 
notions  prevailed  at  that  period  respecting 
the  nature  of  the  English  constitution,  and 
the  liberties  of  the  subject. 
2  Eym.  xi.  713.  3  Ibid.  718,  733,  748. 


93 


EDWARD  IV. 


[CHAP.  ii. 


opulent  family  of  Beauchamp.  Cla- 
rence, who  had  married  Warwick's 
eldest  daughter,  grasped  at  the  whole 
succession  ;  Gloucester  proposed  by 
marrying  the  younger,  the  relict  of 
the  prince  of  Wales  slain  at  Tewks- 
bury,  to  claim  for  himself  a  pro- 
portionate share.  To  defeat  the 
project  of  his  brother,  the  former 
concealed  the  widow  from  the  pursuit 
of  Gloucester ;  but  after  some  months 
she  was  discovered  in  London  in  the 
disguise  of  a  cook-maid,  and  for 
greater  security  was  conducted  to  the 
sanctuary  of  St.  Martin's.  Clarence 
could  not  prevent  the  marriage ;  but 
he  swore  that  Gloucester  "  should  not 
part  the  livelihood  with  him."  The 
king  endeavoured  to  reconcile  the  two 
brothers.  They  pleaded  their  cause 
repeatedly  before  him  in  council ; 
arbitrators  were  appointed;  and  at 
length  an  award  was  given,  which, 
after  assigning  her  portion  to  Anne, 
left  the  rest  of  the  property  to 
Isabella,  the  eldest  sister.'  All  this 
while  the  countess  their  mother  was 
living,  and  to  her  belonged  by  law  the 
possessions  of  her  late  brother  and 
father,  with  the  dower  settled  on  her 
by  her  husband.3  But  her  interests 
were  disregarded.  By  act  of  parlia- 
ment it  was  determined  that  the 
daughters  should  succeed  as  if  their 
mother  were  dead ;  that,  if  either  of 
them  should  die  before  her  husband, 
Tie  should  continue  to  enjoy  her  por- 
tion for  the  term  of  his  natural  life ; 
and  that,  if  a  divorce  should  be  pro- 
nounced between  Richard  and  Anne, 
Richard  should  still  have  the  benefit 
of  this  act,  provided  he  should  marry, 


or  do  his  endeavours  to  marry,  her 
again.3  Still  the  two  brothers  were 
not  secure.  To  preclude  any  claim 
from  the  son  of  the  marquess  Mon- 
tague, Warwick's  brother,  it  was 
enacted  that  Clarence  and  Glouces- 
ter, and  their  heirs,  should  enjoy 
certain  lands,  the  former  property  of 
the  earl,  as  long  as  there  should  exist 
any  male  issue  of  the  body  of  the 
marquess.  By  these  acts  of  parlia- 
ment, and  the  grant  of  different 
honours  and  emoluments,  the  de- 
mands of  the  royal  brothers  were 
satisfied ;  but  a  secret  hatred  had 
been  kindled  in  their  breasts,  which 
was  ready  to  burst  forth  on  the  first 
and  most  trivial  provocation.4 

Being  at  length  relieved  from  all 
cause  of  disquietude  at  home,  Edward 
turned  his  attention  to  the  concerns 
of  foreign  powers.  Louis,  king  of 
France,  and  Charles  le  Temeraire, 
duke  cf  Burgundy,  had  long  been 
implacable  enemies.  The  latter,  with 
his  ally  the  duke  of  Bretagne,  solicited 
Edward  to  prosecute  the  ancient  claim 
of  the  English  monarchs  to  the  French 
crown.  Gratitude  for  the  services 
which  he  had  received  from  his 
brother-in-law,  the  desire  of  punish- 
ing Louis  for  the  succours  which  he 
had  furnished  to  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster, and  above  all,  the  benefit  ot 
employing  in  a  foreign  war  those 
who,  from  their  former  attachments, 
might  be  inclined  to  cabal  against  his 
government,  induced  him  to  lend  a 
willing  ear  to  the  project.  Alliances, 
offensive  and  defensive,  were  con- 
cluded between  him  and  the  two 
dukes ;  the  partition  of  their  expected 


1  Fenn,  ii.  90.  During  this  quarrel  Sir 
John  Paston  writes  thus : — "  The  world 
seems  queasy  here.  For  the  moat  part  that 
be  about  the  king,  have  sent  hither  for  their 
harness  [armour].  It  is  said  for  certain, 
that  the  duke  of  Clarence  maketh  himself 
big  intha'the  can  ;  showing  as  [ifj  he  would 
but  deal  with  the  duke  of  Gloucester  ;  but 
the  king  intended  to  be  as  big  as  they  both. 
Some  men  think  that  under  this  there  should 
be  some  other  thing  intended,  and  some 


treason  conspired  ;  so  what  shall  fall,  can  I 
not  say."— Ibid.  127.    April  13,  1473. 

2  She  had  been  in  the  sanctuary  of  Beau- 
lieu,  till  she  was  removed  to  the  north  in 
June,  1473,  by    Sir  John  Tyrrell.     Edward 
had  assented  to  it,  but  Clarence  was  dis- 
pleased. 

3  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  100,  101.      Thus  saya  the 
Continuator  Hist.  Croyl.,  Parum  aut  nihii 
verse  dominfe  relictum  est  (p.  556,  557). 

*  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  124. 


A.D.  1174.  J 


ALLIANCE  AGAINST  FKANCE. 


conquests  was  arranged;  and  the  re- 
spective quotas,  with  the  payment  of 
their  troops,  were  satisfactorily  set- 
tled. France,  according  to  these 
treaties,  would  have  been  ^divided 
into  two  independent  states;  of  which 
one,  comprehending  the  northern  and 
eastern  provinces,  would  hive  be- 
longed to  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
without  any  obligation  of  fealty  or 
homage ;  the  other  would  have  been 
possessed  by  Edward  as  undoubted 
heir  to  the  ancient  monarchs.1  The 
king  found  the  nation  willing  to  em- 
bark in  the  romantic  undertaking  ; 
the  clergy,  the  lords,  and  the  com- 
mons, separately  granted  him  a  tenth 
of  their  income ;  and  the  parliament, 
which,  with  different  prorogations, 
continued  to  sit  during  two  years  and 
a  half,  voted  supply  upon  supply  with 
unprecedented  rapidity.2  But  an  ad- 
ditional aid  was  obtained  by  the  king's 
own  ingenuity.  He  assumed  the  tone 
of  a  sturdy  beggar,  called  the  more 
wealthy  of  the  citizens  before  him, 
and  requested  from  each  a  present 
for  the  relief  of  his  wante.  No  one 
presumed  to  reject  the  prayer  of  his 
sovereign ;  and  considerable  sums 
were  thus  procured  from  the  shame, 
the  hopes,  or  the  fears  of  the  donors. 
Preceding  monarchs  had  repeatedly 
borrowed  on  their  own  security,  or 
that  of  the  parliament ;  Edward  was 
the  first  who  demanded  presents,  and 
facetiously  termed  the  money  which 
he  had  extorted  a  benevolence?  We 
may  believe  that  the  sums  collected 
from  these  different  sources  exceeded 
the  treasures  amassed  by  any  of  his 
predecessors ;  but  it  is  plain  that  the 
historian  was  not  possessed  of  the  gift 
of  prophecy,  when  he  asserted  that 


they  would  never  be  equalled  on  any 
subsequent  occasion.4 

Though  Europe  had  long  resounded 
with  the  report  of  these  preparations, 
from  some  accident  or  other  the 
threatened  expedition  was  annually 
postponed.  Edward,  however,  im- 
proved the  delay  to  secure  the  friend- 
ship of  the  king  of  Scots.  His  com- 
missioners offered  ample  indemnity 
for  all  injuries  sustained  by  the  Scot- 
tish merchants;  the  long  truce  was 
reciprocally  confirmed;  a  marriage 
was  contracted  between  the  duke  of 
Ilothsay,  the  eldest  son  of  James,  and 
Cecily,  the  second  'daughter  of  Ed- 
ward, and  the  portion  of  the  princess 
was  fixed  at  twenty  thousand  marks, 
to  be  paid  by  equal  instalments  in 
ten  years ;  a  mode  of  payment  which, 
by  making  the  king  of  Scots  the  pen- 
sioner, attached  him  to  the  interests 
of  the  king  of  England.5  At  length 
Edward  proceeded  to  Sandwich ;  his 
army,  consisting  of  fifteen  hundred 
men-at-arms,  and  ten*  times  that 
number  of  archers,  was  transported 
to  Calais,  and  Charles  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy was  invited,  according  to  the 
treaty,  to  join  the  king  with  his 
troops.  But  that  prince,  who  had 
already  wasted  his  resources  in  a 
romantic  and  unsuccessful  expedition 
into  Germany,  arrived  in  the  English 
camp  with  a  slender  retinue,  and 
offered  the  best  apology  in  his  power 
for  his  inability  to  fulfil  his  engage- 
ments. Edward  accompanied  him  to 
Peronne,  where  his  chagrin  was  aug- 
mented by  the  jealousy  with  which 
Charles  excluded  the  English  from 
the  town.  Thence  a  detachment  was 
sent  to  occupy  St.  Quintin's,  but  the 
constable  of  St.  Pol,  who  had  been 


1  Eym.   xi.  804—814,  and  transcript  for 
New  Kym.  75,  76. 

2  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  3—153. 

3  Inaudita  impositio  muneris,  ut  per  be- 
neTOlentiam  quisque  daret  quod  vellet,  imo 
verius  quod  nollet. — Cont.  Croyl.  558. 

4  Ad  eas  summas,  qt?.arum  sumrna?  neque 


antea  visas,  neque  in  futurum  de  verisimili 
simul  videnda?  sunt. — Ibid.  He  got  from 
the  lord  mayor  30Z.,  from  each  alderman 
20  marks,  or  at  least  1(M.,  and  from  the 
wealthiest  commonera  4Z»  11s.  3d.,  or  the 
"  wages  of  half  a  man  for  the  year." — Fab. 
664.  s  Rym.  xf.  821—832, 

H  2 


100 


EDWAED  IT. 


[CHAP.  11. 


represented  as  an  ally,  fired  on  it 
from  the  walls.  The  king  could  no 
longer  check  the  expression  of  his 
disappointment ;  and  the  duke  de- 
parted with  a  promise  to  return  in  a 
short  time  at  the  head  of  a  numerous 
army. 

From  Sandwich,  in  conformity  with 
the  laws  of  chivalry,  Garter  king-at- 
arms  had  been  despatched  to  Louis, 
to  make  a  formal  demand  on  the 
French  crown.  The  monarch  heard 
him  with  composure,  took  him  into 
his  closet,  expressed  much  esteem  for 
the  character  of  Edward,  and  a  sin- 
cere desire  to  live  in  amity  with  so 
illustrious  a  prince.  He  then  put 
three  hundred  crowns  into  the  hands 
of  the  herald,  and  promised  him  a 
thousand  more  on  the  conclusion  of 
peace.  Won  by  his  liberality  and 
apparent  confidence,  Garter  advised 
him  to  apply  to  the  lord  Howard  or 
the  lord  Stanley,  as  ministers  averse 
from  war,  and  high  in  the  favour  of 
their  sovereign.  Louis  immediately 
dismissed  him,  and  prepared  to  avail 
himself  of  the  information.1 

While  Edward  lay  in  his  camp 
near  Peronne,  ruminating  on  the 
unaccountable  conduct  of  the  Bur- 
gundian,  a  French  herald  addressed 
himself  to  the  lords  Howard  and 
Stanley,  and  solicited  an  introduction 
to  the  king.  Being  admitted,  he 
assured  Edward  that  Louis  had  never 
entertained  the  slightest  hostility 
against  him  personally;  and  that  if 
he  had  lent  assistance  on  one  occasion 
to  the  earl  of  Warwick,  it  had  been 
solely  through  his  hatred  to  the  duke 
of  Burgundy ;  he  insinuated  that  the 
friendship  pretended  by  Charles  was 
hollow  and  insincere;  that  he  nad 
allured  the  English  into  France  for 
his  own  individual  advantage,  and 
that  he  would  desert  them  as  soon  as 
he  could  obtain  better  terms  for  him- 
self; and  then  added,  that,  with  a 


Com.  iv.  c.  5—7. 


little  forbearance  on  each  side,  it 
would  be  easy  for  two  princes,  who 
mutually  esteemed  each  other,  to 
prevent  the  effusion  of  Christian 
blood,  and  agree  to  an  accommodation 
equally "  beneficial  to  their  subjects. 
By  Edward,  discontented  as  he  wa?, 
the  suggestion  was  received  with 
pleasure.  He  convoked  a  council  of 
officers,  and  a  resolution  was  taken 
that  the  king  should  return  with  his 
army  to  England,  if  Louis  would 
consent  to  pay  to  him  in  the  course  of 
theyear  seventy-five  thousand  crowns ; 
to  settle  on  him  an  annuity  for  life 
of  fifty  thousand  more;  to  conclude  a 
truce  and  commercial  intercourse 
between  the  two  nations  for  seven 
years ;  and  to  marry  his  eldest  son  to 
Edward's  eldest  daughter;  or  in  the 
event  of  her  death,  to  her  sister  Mary, 
who  at  the  age  of  puberty  should  be 
conveyed  to  France  at  the  expense  of 
Louis,  and  receive  from  him  an 
annual  income  of  sixty  thousand 
francs.  The  motives  assigned  by  the 
members  for  this  resolution  are,  the 
approach  of  winter,  the  poverty  01 
the  treasury,  and  the  insincerity  of 
Duke  Charles ; 8  but  to  these  must  be 
added  the  presents  which  Louis  dis- 
tributed among  the  royal  favourites, 
and  the  prospect  of  a  supply  of  money, 
an  object  of  high  importance  to  a 
voluptuous  and  indigent  prince.  Com- 
missioners on  both  sides  were  ap- 
pointed to  meet  at  a  neighbouring 
village.  Louis  assented  to  every 
demand;  and  in  addition,  it  was 
agreed  that  Margaret  of  Anjou  should 
be  set  at  liberty  on  the  payment  of 
fifty  thousand  crowns;  and  that  all 
differences  between  the  two  kings 
should  be  submitted  to  four  arbitra- 
tors, the  cardinal  of  Canterbury  and 
the  duke  of  Clarence  on  the  part  of 
Edward,  the  archbishop  of  Lyons  and 
the  count  of  Dunois  on  the  part  of 
Louis,  who  should  be  bound  to  pro- 


8  Rym.  xii.  14, 15. 


A.D.  1475. 


PEACE  AND  ALLIANCE  WITH  FRANCE. 


Kl 


nounce  their  award  within  the  course 
of  three  years.1  As  soon  as  these 
conditions  had  been  mutually  ex 
changed,  a  bridge  was  thrown  across 
the  Somme  at  Picquigny  near  Amiens, 
on  which  were  erected  two  lodges, 
separated  from'  each  other  by  a  grat- 
ing of  wood.  Here  the  monarchs 
met  each  other,  shook  hands  through 
the  grating,  and  swore  on  the  Missal 
to  oberve  their  engagements.  They 
then  entered  into  familiar  conver- 
sation ;  and  Louis  incautiously  in- 
vited his  new  acquaintance  to  Paris. 
Edward,  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  plea 
sure,  did  not  refuse ;  and  it  required 
all  the  address  of  the  French  monarch 
to  postpone  the  intended  visit  to  an 
indeterminate  period.  The  English 
kings,  he  afterwards  observed  to  his 
confidants,  had  been  too  much  in 
the  habit  of  visiting  France ;  he  liked 
them  best  on  their  own  side  of  the 
water.2 

All  the  immediate  conditions  of  the 
treaty  were  faithfully  performed.  Ed- 
ward received  the  money  on  the 
appointed  day,  and  instantly  com- 
menced his  march  to  the  coast ;  the 
truce  was  published,  and  prolonged 
for  one  year  after  the  death  of  either 
king;  the  annual  pension,  and  the 
sum  stipulated  for  the  ransom  of 
Queen  Margaret,  were  carefully  paid; 
Edward  resigned  all  power  over  that 
princess  as  his  captive,  and  Louis 
bound  himself  never  to  make  any 
demand  in  her  favour ;  and  she  her- 
self, after  she  was  delivered  to  the 
French  commissioners  at  Rouen, 
signed  a  formal  renunciation  of  all 
her  rights  as  queen  dowager  of  Eng- 
Jand.3  Each  king  congratulated  him- 
self on  the  issue  of  the  expedition. 
Edward  had  not  only  filled  his  coffer?, 
but  had  insured  for  himself  an  annual 
supply  of  money ;  Louis,  at  an  expense 
comparatively  small,  had  escaped 


1  Kym.  xii.  15-21 ;  xii.  52. 

2  Com.  iv.  5—10.    Addit.  to  Monstrel.  51. 
*  Ejm.  xii.  21.    Du  TiUot,  145.    Archives 


from  a  dangerous  war,  and  had  con- 
verted a  powerful  enemy  into  a  faith 
ful  ally.  To  secure  this  advantage  h« 
had  purchased  the  services  of  many 
in  the  English  council,  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  copy  the  example  of  their 
sovereign.  The  lord  Hastings,  Ed- 
ward's principal  favourite,  and  the 
chancellor,  accepted  annual  pensions 
of  two  thousand  crowns  each;  and 
twelve  thousand  more  were  yearly 
distributed  among  the  marquess  of 
Dorset,  the  lords  Howard  and  Cheney, 
Sir  Thomas  Montgomery,  Thomas 
St.  Leger,  and  a  few  others.  Most  of 
these  were  not  ashamed  to  recognise 
themselves  as  pensioners  of  the  king 
of  France ;  the  lord  Hastings  alone, 
though  he  greedily  accepted  the 
money,  could  never  be  induced  to  put 
his  signature  to  a  receipt.4 

But  though  Edward  was  satisfied, 
the  military  and  the  people  did  not 
conceal  their  disappointment.  Of 
the  former  many  accused  the  avarice 
of  the  king,  and  threatened  with 
public  vengeance  the  counsellors  who 
had  suffered  themselves  to  be  bribed 
by  Louis;  but  they  were  carefully 
watched,  and  severely  punished  for 
the  imprudence  of  their  language. 
Others,  as  soon  as  the  army  was  dis- 
banded, formed  associations,  extorted 
money  by  violence,  and  threw  several 
counties  into  confusion  by  repeated 
robberies  and  murders.  To  suppress 
these  disorders  the  king  directed  the 
laws  to  be  strictly  enforced,  accom- 
panied the  judges  in  their  circuits, 
and  inexorably  refused  mercy  to 
every  delinquent,  whatever  might 
have  been  his  station  or  service.  But 
the  dissatisfaction  of  the  people  sup- 
plied a  source  of  deeper  disquietude. 
It  was  evident  that  they  wanted  only  a 
leader  to  guide  their  efforts,  and  that 
the  imposition  of  new  taxes  would 
infallibly  goad  them  to  insurrection. 


de  France,  242.  Her  description  is  "  Eg<» 
Margarita  olim  in  regno  Angliae  maritata."— 
Three,  des  Chart.  88.  *  Com.  iv.  8 ;  yi.  * 


EDWA11D  IV. 


[CHAP.  IL 


Hence  it  became  the  great  object  o 
the  king's  policy  to  provide  for  the 
expenses  of  his  household  and  of  the 
government,  without  laying  any  ad- 
ditional burden  on  the  nation.  With 
this  view  he  ordered  the  officers  o. 
the  customs  to  exact  the  duties  with 
severity,  extorted  frequent  tenth, 
from  the  clergy,  levied  large  sums  for 
the  restoration  of  the  temporalities 
of  abbeys  and  bishoprics,  resumed 
most  o£4be-grants  lately  made  by  the 
-  "Crown,  and  compelled  the  holders  of 
estates,  who  had  omitted  any  of  the 
numerous  minutiae  of  the  feudal 
tenures,  to  compound  by  heavy  fines 
for  the  rents  which  they  had  hitherto 
received.  Neither  did  he  disdain  the 
aid  which  might  be  derived  from 
commercial  enterprise.  Edward's 
ships  were  annually  freighted  with 
tin,  wool,  and  cloth:  and  the  mer- 
chandise of  the  king  of  England  was 
publicly  exposed  to  sale  in  the  ports 
of  Italy  and  Greece.  In  a  short  time 
he  became  rich;  though  individuals 
might  complain,  the  nation  was  satis- 
fied; and  men  grew  insensibly  at- 
tached to  a  prince,  who  could  support 
the  splendour  of  the  throne  without 
making  any  general  demand  on  the 
purses  of  his  subjects.1 

It  was  not,  however,  long  before  an 
event  occurred  which  embittere'd  the 
remainder  of  Edward's  days.  His 
brother  Clarence  by  the  act  of  resump- 
tion had  been  deprived  of  several 
estates,  and  seems  to  have  considered 
the  loss  an  unjustifiable  aggression. 
He  withdrew  from  court,  could  seldom 
be  persuaded  to  eat  at  the  king's 
table,  and  at  the  council-board  ob- 
served the  most  obstinate  silence. 
His  wife,  after  the  birth  of  her  third 
child,  fell  into  a  state  of  debility, 
which,  at  the  expiration  of  two 
months,  terminated  her  life;  and 
Ankaret  Twynhyo,  one  of  her  female 


servants,  was  tried,  condemned,  and 
executed  on  the  charge  of  having 
administered  poison  to  the  duchess.* 
It  chanced  that  about  the  same  time 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  fell  at  the  siege 
of  Nanci ;  and  his  immense  posses- 
sions devolved  on  Mary,  his  only 
daughter  and  heir.  Clarence  soli- 
cited her  hand ;  his  suit  was  seconded 
by  all  the  influence  of  his  sister,  the 
duchess  Margaret ;  and  it  is  thought 
that  he  would  have  succeeded  had  it 
not  been  for  the  resolute  opposition 
of  Edward.  The  king  was  too  jealous 
of  the  ambition  of  a  brother,  who 
might  employ  the  power  of  Burgundy 
to  win  for  himself  the  crown  of  Eng- 
land, and  too  apprehensive  of  incur- 
ring the  enmity  of  Louis,  who  had 
already  seized  a  considerable  portion 
of  Mary's  inheritance.  From  that 
moment  the  brothers  viewed  each 
other  as  enemies,  and  scarcely  pre- 
served in  their  intercourse  the  ex- 
ternal forms  of  decorum.  "While  they 
were  thus  irritated  against  each  other, 
whether  it  were  the  effect  of  accident, 
or  a  preparatory  step  to  the  ruin  of 
Clarence,  Stacey,  one  of  his  servants, 
was  ac-jused  of  practising  the  art  of 
magic,  and  of  melting  certain  images 
of  lead  to  accelerate  the  death  of  the 
lord  Beauchamp.  On  the  rack  he 
named  as  his  accomplice  Thomas 
Burdett,  a  gentleman  in  the  duke's 
family.  They  were  arraigned  toge- 
iher  before  the  judges  and  most  of 
'ihe  temporal  peers;  were  charged 
with  having  calculated  the  nativities 
of  the  king  and  the  prince,  and  of 
laving  circulated  certain  rhymes  and 
ballads  of  a  seditious  tendency.  After 
a  short  trial,  both  were  condemned 
and  executed.  On  the  scaffold  they 
protested  against  the  sentence ;  Cla- 
rence immediately  professed  himself 
ihe  champion  of  their  innocence ;  and 
the  next  day  Dr.  Godard,  an  eminent 


For  these   interesting  particulars   we 


.re  indebted  to  the  historian  of  Croyland. 
'•559.  a    Bot.Parl.vi.173,171. 


A..D  1478.1  CLARENCE  FOUND  GUILTY  OF  TREASON.  103 


divine,  was  introduced  by  him  into 
the  council -chamber  to  depose  to 
their  dying  declarations.  -When  these 
particulars,  exaggerated  perhaps  by 
officious  Menus,  had  been  commu- 
nicated to  Edward,  he  hastened 
from  Windsor  to  London,  sent  for 
the  duke,  upbraided  him  with  in- 
sulting the  administration  of  justice, 
and  in  the  presence  of  the  mayor 
and  sheriffs  committed  him  to  the 
Tower.1 

A  parliament  was  now  summoned, 
and  the  unfortunate  Clarence  stood 
at  the  bar  of  the  house  of  lords  under 
a  charge  of  high  treason.  Not  one 
of  the  peers  ventured  to  speak  in  his 
favour:  the  king  produced  his  wit- 
nesses, and  conducted  the  prosecu- 
tion, lie  described  the  tender  affec- 
tion which  he  had  formerly  cherished 
for  his  brother,  and  the  great  posses- 
sions with  which  he  had  enriched 
him.  Yet  the  ungrateful  prince  had 
turned  against  his  benefactor,  had 
leagued  with  .his  enemies,  had  ue- 
prived  him  of  his  liberty,  ao.d  had 
conspired  to  dethrone  him.  All  this 
had  been  forgiven.  Yet  what  was  the 
return  ?  Clarence  had  again  formed 
the  project  of  disenheriting  him  and 
his  issue.  For  this  purpose  he  had 
commissioned  his  servants  to  give 
public  entertainments,  during  whicl 
they  insinuated  that  Burdett  had 
been  innocent  of  the  crime  for  which 
he  suffered,  that  the  king  was  him- 
self a  magician,  and  therefore  unfii 
to  govern,  a  Christian  people,  anc 
what  was  more,  was  a  bastard,  and 
consequently  without  any  right  t< 
the  crown.  Moreover,  Clarence  had 
induced  men  to  swear  that  thej 
would  be  true  to  him  without  an] 


1  Cont.  Croyl.  561,  562,   compared  wit 
the    indictment  in  HowelTs   State   Trials 
iii.  364. 

2  See  the  long  and  laboured  bill  of  attain 
der  in  Kot.  Parl.  vi.  193, 194.        3  Ibid.  192 

*  Ibid.  173.  At  the  same  time  Georg 
Neville,  son  of  the  marquess  Montague 
-who  had  been  created  duke  of  Bedford,  wa 
(deprived  of  his  title,  on  the  pretence  tha 


servation    of    allegiance    to    their 
overeign ;    had    declared    that    he 
rould  recover  both  for  himself  and 
lem  the  lands  which  had  been  lost 
y  the  act  of  resumption;  had  obv 
ained  and  preserved  an  attested  copy 
f  the  act  declaring    him  the  next 
.eir  to   the   crown   after  the  male 
ssue  of  Henry  VI. ;  had  sent  orders 
o  all  his  retainers  to  be  in  readiness 
o  join  him  in  arms    at  an   hour's 
otice ;  and  had  endeavoured  to  sub- 
titute  another  person's  child  in  tho 
jlace  of  bis  own  son.  that  he  might 
end  the  latter  out  of  the  kingdom, 
is  if  his  life  were  menaced  by  the 
amity  of  his  uncle.2    How  far  these 
marges  against  Clarence  were  true, 
r  whether  they  amounted  to  more 
ban  precautions  against  the  malice 
of  his  enemies,  it  is  impossible  for 
is  to  decide ;   for  though  we  know 
iiat   he   replied  with   warmth  and 
acrimony,    his   reply  has   not   been 
preserved.      The    peers    were    per- 
suaded   by   the    arguments   of  the 
royal  accuser;  they  found  Clarence 
guilty ;  and  the  duke  of  Buckingham, 
who  had  been  appointed  high  steward 
or  the  occasion,  pronounced  on  him 
the  sentence  of  death.3    Soon  after- 
wards an  act  was  passed  to  reverse 
the  judgment  of  Ankaret;  and  the 
commons  petitioned  the  king  to  exe- 
cute justice  on    his   brother.4    But 
Edward  disapproved  of  a  public  exhi- 
bition.   About  ten  days  later  it  was 
announced  that  the  duke  had  died  in 
the  Tower.    The  manner  of  his  death 
has  never  been  ascertained ;  but  a  silly 
report  was  circulated  that   he   had 
been  drowned  in  a  butt  of  Malmsey 
wine.5 
It  was  a  singular  but  leading  fea- 


he  had  not  an  income  equal  to  support  it. — 
Ibid.  And  an  act  was  passed  "  for  the 
surety  of  all  lords,  noblemen,  and  other  the 
king's  true  servants  and  subjects,"  repeal- 
ing the  acts  passed  in  the  parliament  sum- 
moned by  Henry  VI.,  during  the  absence 
of  Eilward,  more  than  seven  years  before. — 
Hot.  Pnrl.  vi.  191. 
5  The  historian  of  Croylaad  says  onlj— 


1.0-1 


EDWARD  IV. 


.  II. 


ture  in  the  policy  of  tnis  king,  that  I  had  long  avoided  the  society  of  hia 


tie  negotiated  marriages  for  his  chil 
•dren  almost  the  very  moment  they 
were  born.  Elizabeth  had  long  been 
contracted  to  the  dauphin  of  France, 
Cecily  to  the  son  and  heir  of  the  king 
of  Scotland,  Anne  to  the  infant  son  of 
Maximilian ,  archduke  of  Austria,  and 
his  eldest  son  to  the  eldest  daughter 
of  the  duke  of  Bretagne.  In  all  these 
projects  he  was  disappointed,  in  two 
of  them  he  was  completely  over- 
reached. The  instalments  of  the 
sum  to  be  given  with  Cecily  had  for 
some  years  been  regularly  paid;  in 
1478  they  were  suspended,  and  in 
1480  war  was  declared  between  Eng- 
land and  Scoland.  By  some  writers, 
the  rupture  has  been  attributed  to 
the  intrigues  of  Louis,  who  secretly 
stimulated  James  to  break  his  alli- 
ance with  Edward ;  by  others  to  the 
policy  of  Edward,  who  sought  to 
convert  to  his  own  advantage  the 
dissensions  between  the  king  and 
the  nobles  of  Scotland.  From  public 
documents  it  appears  that  the  two 
princes  were  highly  exasperated 
against  each  other.  Edward  up- 
braided James  with  meanness  of 
conduct  and  breach  of  faith;  and 
James  returned  the  compliment  with 
the  contumelious  appellation  of  "  the 
robber,"  alluding  probably  to  the 
manner  in  which  his  adversary  had 
acquired  the  crown.1  Great  prepa- 
rations were  made ;  James  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  Scottish, 
the  duke  of  Gloucester  at  the  head 
of  the  English  army,  and  the  bor- 
derers renewed  their  depredations; 
vet  two  years  elapsed  before  the  war 
assumed  a  formidable  appearance. 
The  king  of  Scotland,  who  aspired  to 
the  reputation  of  taste  and  science, 


proud  but  ignorant  nobles,  and  ad- 
mitted to  Jiis  company  none  but  a 
few  artists,  distinguished  indeed  in 
their  respective  professions,  but  born 
in  the  lower  stations  of  life,  and  the 
more  hateful  in  the  sight  of  the 
natives,  because  some  of  them  were 
foreigners.  The  discontent  of  the 
nobility  was  shared  by  the  duke  of 
Albany  and  the  earl  of  Mar,  the 
brothers  of  James,  who,  to  intimi- 
date the  factious,  suddenly  arrested 
them  both,  and  confined  them  in 
separate  prisons,  the  former  in  the 
castle  of  Edinburgh,  the  other  in  that 
of  Craigmillar.  Albany,  by  the  as- 
sistance of  the  captain  of  a  French 
vessel,  contrived  to  escape,  and  eluded 
the  vengeance  of  his  brother  by  a 
voluntary  exile  in  Paris.  The  unfor- 
tunate Mar,  on  the  very  doubtful 
charge  of  magical  practices  against 
the  life  of  the  king,  was  condemned 
by  the  council,  and  though  he  escape  i. 
the  ignominy  of  a  public  execution, 
had  a  vein  opened,  and  bled  to  death 
in  prison,  llevenge  rankled  in  the 
breast  of  Albany,  who,  encouraged  by 
the  hostilities  between  the  two  powers, 
came  to  England,  solicited  the  pro- 
tection of  Edward,  and  under  the 
pretence  that  his  brother  was  ille- 
gitimate, proclaimed  himself  king  of 
Scotland.2  It  was  stipulated  that 
Edward  should  employ  his  forces  to 
place  Albany  on  the  throne,  who,  in 
return,  should  surrender  the  town 
and  castle  of  Berwick ;  should  hold 
the  crown  as  the  vassal  of  the  English 
monarch ;  should  abjure  the  national 
alliance  with  France;  and  should 
marry,  if  the  laws  of  the  church 
would  permit  (for  he  had  even  now 
two  supposed  wives  living),  one  of 


factum  est  id,  qualemcumque  eiat,  genus 
supplicii  (562) .  I  suspect  that  the  principal 
cauae  of  Edward's  jealousy  against  Clarence 
arose  from  his  having  been  declared  the 
next  heir  after  Edward,  the  son  of  Henry  VI. 
Supposing  tho  validity  of  that  act,  he  was 


even  now  the  rightful  heir ;  but  it  was  one 
of  the  acts  mentioned  in  the  last  note. 

1  Rym.  xii.  115,  117.     Black  Acts,  fol.  56. 

2  His  mother,  Mary  of  Gueldres,  was  not 
an    immaculate    character. — See  Wrrcert, 
492. 


A.D.  1482.1 


DISTURBANCES  IN  SCOTLAND. 


105 


the  English  princesses.  Accompanied 
by  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  who  com- 
manded an  army  of  twenty-two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  men,  he  laid  siege 
to  Berwick.  The  town  opened  its 
gates,  the  castle  made  a  most  obsti- 
nate resistance.  James  had  sum- 
moned his  retainers,  and  had  ad- 
vanced as  far  as  Lander,  unaware  of 
the  danger  which  threatened  him. 
It  was  generally  during  a  military 
expedition  that  the  Scottish  barons 
made  a  successful  stand  against  the 
authority  of  the  sovereign.  They 
were  then  assembled  in  a  body ;  they 
were  surrounded  with  their  clans  and 
retainers ;  and,  if  they  were  but 
united  among  themselves,  they  al- 
ways proved  more  than  a  match  for 
the  power  of  the  crown.  They  had 
met  to  consult  in  the  church  at 
Lauder,  when  Cochran,  the  architect, 
whom  the  infatuated  James  had 
lately  created  earl  of  Mar,  incau- 
tiously joined  the  assembly.  He  was 
instantly  seized ;  six  more  of  the  royal 
favourites  were  dragged  from  the 
king's  tent ;  and  all  were  hanged  over 
the  bridge.  The  confederate  chiefs 
immediately  disbanded  the  army,  and 
conveyed  the  king  to  the  castle  of 
Edinburgh,  menacing  him  with  per- 
petual imprisonment,  unless  he  should 
grant  a  full  pardon  for  the  murder 
of  his  friends.1 

The  news  of  this  extraordinary 
revolution  quickly  reached  the  army, 
which  lay  before  Berwick;  and  Albany 
and  G-oucester  with  sixteen  thousand 
men  hastened  to  Edinburgh.  That 
capital  received  them  as  friends ;  and 
every  man  expected  that  the  sceptre 
of  Scotland  would  pass  from  the 
feeble  hands  of  its  possessor  to  the 
firmer  grasp  of  his  brother,  when,  to 
the  astonishment  of  both  nations, 
Albany  signed  an  agreement  with 


two  Scottish  peers  and  two  prelates, 
by  which  lie  bound  himself  to  act 
the  part  of  a  faithful  subject  to  James, 
they  to  procure  for  him  a  pardon 
without  any  exceptions,  and  the  re- 
storation of  his  estates  and  honours. 
It  was,  however,  stipulated,  that  to 
satisfy  the  king  of  England,  the  castle 
of  Berwick  should  be  surrendered,  and 
the  provost  and  merchants  of  Edin- 
burgh should  give  security  for  the 
repayment  of  all  moneys  advanced 
on  account  of  the  marriage  portion 
of  Cecily,  unless  Edward  were  willing 
that  the  former  contract  should  still 
subsist.  The  king,  however,  demanded 
the  money,  which  was  faithfully  re- 
paid. Albany  took  the  castle  of 
Edinburgh  by  force,  and  liberated 
his  brother.  To  prove  their  recon- 
ciliation, they  both  rode  to  Holyrood- 
house  on  one  horse,  and  slept  in  the 
same  bed.  Yet  the  restless  mind  of 
the  duke  was  not  satisfied.  He  re- 
newed his  negotiations  with  Edward ; 
on  the  discovery  of  his  traitorous 
designs  escaped  again  into  Prance, 
and  was  at  last  attainted  by  an  act  of 
the  Scottish  parliament.2 

Another  instance  in  which  the 
expectations  of  Edward  were  cruelly 
disappointed,  was  the  projected  mar- 
riage of  his  daughter  Elizabeth  with 
the  dauphin  of  France.  When  she 
had  completed  her  twelfth  year,  it 
was  hoped  that  Louis,  according  to 
his  engagement,  would  have  sent  ib/ 
the  princess,  and  have  settled  on  her 
the  stipulated  annuity  of  sixty  thou- 
sand francs.  Pour  years  passed ;  still 
she  remained  in  England.  Eemon- 
strances  were  made,  but  Louis  always 
returned  some  plausible  answer.  The 
parliament  warned  tlie  king  of  the 
artifices  of  the  Prench  court ;  still  ho 
refused  to  suspect  the  sincerity  of  his 
good  brother.  An  unexpected  event 


1  Abercromb.  ii.  446.     Buch.  234. 

*  Rym.  xii.  155-163,  172—179.  Cont. 
Hist.  Croyl.  563.  He  acquaints  us  that  the 
king  was  not  pleased  with  the  result  of  the 


expedition,  -which  had  cost  him  more  than 
100,0002.  The  possession  of  Berwick  was  an 
advantage:  but  the  expense  of  retaining  it 
amounted  to  10,000  marks  yearly. — Ibid. 


106 


EDWARD  IV. 


I  CHAP.  ii. 


opened  his  eyes.  The  princess  Mary 
of  Burgundy,  who  had  borne  her 
husband  Maximilian  two  children, 
Philip  and  Margaret,  was  unex- 
pectedly killed  by  a  fall  i'rom  her 
horse ;  and  Louis,  forgetting  the 
princess  Elizabeth,  instantly  de- 
manded Margaret  for  the  dauphin. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  father  hesi- 
tated. The  people  of  Ghent,  to  whose 
custody  the  children  had  been  in- 
trusted, extorted  his  consent;  Mar- 
garet was  delivered  by  them  to  the 
commissioners  of  Louis ;  and  the 
provinces,  which  that  monarch  had 
ravished  from  her  mother,  were  settled 
upon  her  as  her  marriage  portion. 
When  the  news  reached  Edward, 
he  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage. 
From  that  moment  his  thoughts  were 
constantly  fixed,  his  conversation  gene- 
rally employed,  on  the  readiest  means 
of  inflicting  vengeance  on  the  perfidy 
of  the  king  of  France.  But  whether 
it  were  owing  to  the  agitation  of  his 
mind,  or  to  the  debaucheries  in  which 
he  indulged,  a  slight  ailment,  which 
had  been  treated  with  neglect,  suddenly 
exhibited  the  most  dangerous  symp- 
toms. He  spent  the  few  days  preceding 
his  death  in  the  exercises  of  religion, 
and  directed  that,  out  of  the  trea- 
sures which  he  should  leave  behind 
him,  full  restitution  should  be  made 
to  all  whom  he  had  wronged,  or  from 
whom  he  had  extorted  money  under 
the  name  of  benevolence.  He  expired 
in  the  twenty -third  year  of  his  reign. 
Edward  is  said  to  have  been  the 


1  At  the  Christmas  before  his  death  he 
appeared  in  a  new  dress.     His  robes  were 
furnished  with  sleeves  enormously  long  and 
deep,  lined  with  the  most  precious  furs,  and 
folded  back  on  his  shoulders  :    "  Novum," 
says  the  historian,  "  et  singulare  intuentibus 
spectaculum." — Cont.  Croyl.  563. 

2  In  homine  tarn  corpulento,   tantis  so- 
dalitiis,    vanitatibus,   crapuiis,    luxurise    et 
cupiditatib-us  dedito.— Id.  564. 

*  During  the  Scottish  campaign  posts 
were  first  established  in  England.  Horse- 
men were  placed  at  the  distance  of  twenty 
from  each  other  on  the  road  from 


most  accomplished,  and,  till  he  grew 
too  unwieldy,  the  most  handsome 
man  of  the  age.  The  love  of  pleasure 
was  his  ruling  passion.  Few  princes 
have  been  more  magnificent  in  their 
dress,1  or  more  licentious  in  their 
amours;  few  have  indulged  more 
freely  in  the  luxuries  of  the  table.2 
But  such  pursuits  often  interfered 
with  his  duties,  and  at  last  incapa- 
citated him  for  active  exertion.  Even 
in  youth,  while  he  was  fighting  for 
the  throne,  he  was  always  the  last 
to  join  his  adherents;  and  in  man- 
hood, when  he  was  firmly  seated  on 
it,  he  entirely  abandoned  the  charge 
of  military  affairs  to  his  brother,  the 
duke  of  Gloucester.3  To  the  chief 
supporters  of  the  opposite  party  he 
was  cruel  and  unforgiving ;  the  blood 
which  he  shed  intimidated  his  friends 
no  less  than  his  foes ;  and  both  lords 
and  commons  during  his  reign,  in- 
stead cf  contending,  like  their  pre- 
decessors for  the  establishment  of 
rights,  and  the  abolition  of  grievances, 
made  it  their  principal  study  to  gratify 
the  royal  pleasure.4  He  was  as  sus- 
picious as  he  was  cruel.  Every  officer 
of  government,  every  steward  on  his 
manors  and  farms,  was  employed  as  a 
spy  on  the  conduct  of  all  around  him; 
they  regularly  made  to  the  king  reports 
of  the  state  of  the  neighbourhood; 
and  such  was  the  fidelity  of  his  me- 
mory, that  it  was  difficult  to  mention 
an  individual  of  any  consequence, 
even  in  the  most  distant  counties, 
with  whose  character,  history,  and 


Scotland  to  London.  They  delivered  the 
despatches  from  one  to  another  at  the  rate 
of  100  miles  a  day.— Cont.  Croyl.  571. 

*  We  shall  search  in  vain  on  tke  Rolls  for 
such  petitions  as  were  presented  to  tho 
throne  by  the  commons  in  former  reigns ; 
but  one  improvement  was  firmly  established, 
that  of  framing  the  petitions  in  the  form 
of  an  act  of  parliament,— an  improvement 
which  prevented  any  of  those  alterations 
in  the  statutes  of  which  the  commons  for- 
merly complained.  The  clerks  had  now 
nothing  more  to  do  than  copy  the  words 
of  the  petition,  and  to  add  to  it  that  ths 
king  had  given  his  assent. 


A.D.  1488.J 


EDWAllD'S  CHILDREN. 


107 


influence  ho  was  not  accurately  ac- 
quainted.1 Hence  every  project  of 
opposition  to  his  government  was 
suppressed  almost  as  soon  as  it  was 
formed  ;  and  Edward  might  have 
promised  himself  a  long  and  pros- 
perous reign,  had  not  continued  in- 
dulgence enervated  his  constitution, 
and  sown  the  seeds  of  that  malady 
which  consigned  him  to  the  grave  in 
the  forty-first  year  of  his  age.  He 
was  buried  with  the  usual  pomp  in 
the  new  chapel  at  Windsor.3 

The  king  left  two  sons,  Edward  in 
his  twelfth  year,  who  succeeded  him, 
and  Bichard  in  his  eleventh,  duke  of 
York,  and  earl  marshal.  This  young 
prince  had  been  married  in  his  fifth 
year  to  Anne,  the  daughter  and 


heiress  of  John  Mcwbray,  duke  of 
Norfolk,  and  thus  became  entitled  to 
the  immense  estates  of  that  nobleman. 
Five  of  Edward's  daughters  survived 
him.  Of  these,  four,  whom  he  had 
so  anxiously  laboured  to  place  on 
foreign  thrones,  found  husbands  in 
England.  Elizabeth,  contracted  to  tho 
dauphin,  \vas  married  to  Henry  VII. ; 
Cecily,  the  destined  wife  of  the  prince 
of  Scotland,  to  the  viscount  Welles  ; 
Anne,  who  had  been  promised  to 
Philip  of  Burgundy,  to  Thomas 
Howard,  afterwards  duke  of  Norfolk; 
and  Catherine,  the  expected  bride 
of  the  infant  of  Spain,  to  William 
Courtenay,  earl  of  Devon.  Bridget 
became  a  nun  in  the  convent  at 
Dartford. 


1  Cont.  Croyl.  5fi2,  564.  on  a  board,  naked  from  the  waist  upwards, 

3  The  ceremony  of  his  interment  may  be     during  ten  hours,  that  he  might  be  seen  by 

read  in  Sandford  (Geneal.   Mist,  p    1 — 1.1).    all  the  lords  Rpiritual  and  temporal,  and  by 

Immediately  after  his  death  he  was  exposed  j  the  mayor  and  aldermen  of  London. — Ibid. 


CHAPTER  III. 


EDWAED  V. 

CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


Emp.  of  fit)  m, 
Frederic  III. 


JT.  of  Scotland. 
James  III. 


X.  of  France. 
Louis  XI. 


Sov,  of  Spain. 
Isabella      l 
Ferdirandj 


Pope.— Siitus  IV. 


CONDUCT    Of   THE    DUKE    OF    GLOUCESTER — ARRESTS THE    DUKE    IS    MADE    PROTEC- 
TOR— MURDER    OF    LORD     HASTINGS    AND    THE    EARL    RIVERS PENANCE    OF   JANE 

SHORE— THE    DUKE    ASPIRES    TO    THE    CROWN — SERMON     IN    HIS    FAVOUR — SPEECH 

OF    THE    DUKE    OF    BUCKINGHAM OFFER    OF    THE    CROWN    TO    GLOUCESTER WHO 

ACCEPTS    IT. 


A  FAIXT  glimmering  of  light  may 
be  thrown  on  the  dark  transactions 
which  followed  the  death  of  the  late 
king  by  adverting  to  tho  state  of 
parties  at  the  close  of  his  reign. 
Whether  it  were  that  Edward  had 


been  compelled  by  the  importunities 
of  his  wife,  or  that  he  felt  a  pride  in 
aggrandizing  the  family  of  her  whom 
he  had  placed  by  his  side  on  the 
throne,  he  had  successively  raised  her 
relations  from  the  condition  of  knights 


1GS 


.E-bWARD  V. 


LCHAP.  III. 


and  esquires  to  the  highest  honours 
and  offices  in  the  state.  By  the  more 
ancient  nobility  their  rapid  elevation 
was  viewed  with  jealousy  and  resent- 
ment ;  and  their  influence,  though  il 
appeared  formidable,  while  it  was 
supported  by  the  favour  of  the  king, 
proved  in  the  sequel  to  be  very  in- 
considerable, and  confined  to  the  few 
families  into  which  they  had  married 
The  marquess  of  Dorset,  the  queen's 
son  by  a  former  marriage,  and  her 
brother,  the  accomplished  but  un- 
fortunate Earl  llivers,  possessed  the 
first  seats  at  the  council-board ;  but 
they  were  continually  opposed  by  the 
lords  Hastings,  Howard,  and  Stanley, 
the  king's  personal  friends,  particu- 
larly the  first,  whom  Edward  had 
chosen  for  the  companion  of  his 
pleasures,  and  who  on  that  very 
account  was  the  more  odious  to  the 
queen.  The  monarch  during  his 
health  had  balanced  by  his  prudence 
the  rivalry,  and  silenced  by  his 
authority  the  dissensions,  of  the 
two  parties  ;  and  on  his  death-bed, 
warned  by  the  unfortunate  minority 
of  Henry  VI.,  had  called  them  into 
his  chamber,  exhorted  them  to  mu- 
tual forgiveness,  and  commanded 
them  to  embrace  in  his  presence. 
They  obeyed  with  apparent  cheerful- 
ness ;  but  their  hearts  gave  the  lie  to 
the  sentiments  which  they  uttered, 
and  the  lapse  of  a  few  days  proved 
how  treacherous  were  all  such  recon- 
ciliations, when  he  by  whose  order 
they  had  been  made,  no  longer  lived 
to  enforce  them.1 


i  Moro's  Works,  38—40,  edit,  of  1557. 
For  our  knowledge  of  the  events  of  this 
period  we  are  chiefly  indebted  to  the  con- 
tinuator  of  the  History  of  Croyland,  and 
Sir  Thomas  More.  The  first  was  a  con- 
temporary. His  name  is  unknown  j  but  it 
appears  from  his  work  that  he  was  a  doctor 
of  canon  law,  sometimes  a  member  of  the 
council  under  Edward  IV.,  and  occasionally 
employed  by  him  as  envoy  to  foreign 
powers  (p.  557).  He  declares  that  he  has 
written  with  truth  and  impartiality. — Sine 
ulla  scita  intermixtione  mendacii,  odii,  aut 
favoris  (575).  Sir  Thomas  More  was  boru 


As  soon  as  the  king  had  expired, 
the  council  assembled,  and  resolved  to 
proclaim  his  eldest  son  by  the  style 
of  Edward  V.  But  here  their  una- 
nimity ended.  The  young  prince, 
accompanied  by  his  uncle  Earl 
Rivers,  and  his  uterine  brother 
Lord  Grey,  had  been  sent  to  Lud- 
low  in  Shropshire,  under  the  pretext 
that  his  presence  would  serve  to 
restrain  the  natives  of  Wales;  but 
in  reality,  that  by  growing  up  under 
their  tuition,  he  might  become  more 
attached  to  his  maternal  relatives. 
A  suspicion  was  entertained  that,  in 
imitation  of  Isabella,  the  mother  of 
Edward  III.,  the  queen  would  aspire 
to  a  considerable  share  of  authority 
during  the  minority  of  her  son  ;  and 
to  defeat  her  designs,  the  enemies  of 
the  Wydeviles  anxiously  expected  the 
arrival  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  the 
king's  uncle,  and  the  duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, the  lineal  descendant  of 
Thomas  of  Woodstock,  the  youngest 
son  of  Edward  III.  When  Elizabeth 
proposed  that  Rivers  and  Grey  should 
conduct  Edward  from  Ludlow  to  the 
metropolis  under  the  protection  of  an 
army,  Hastings  and  his  friends  took 
the  alarm.  Gloucester  and  Bucking- 
bam  were  still  absent ;  the  Tower  was 
in  the  possession  of  the  marquess  of 
Dorset ;  the  king  was  surrounded  by 
the  queen's  creatures;  and  the  addi- 
of  an  army  would  place  her 
opponents  at  her  mercy,  and  enable 
the  Wydeviles  lo  establish  their 
authority.  Where,  they  asked,  was 
he  necessity  of  an  army  ?  Who  were 


n  1480.  In  1513,  when  ho  was  under- 
sheriff  of  London,  he  wrote  his  History  of 
Xichard  III.,  according  to  Eastell,  who 
>rinted  it  in  1557  from  a  copy  in  More's 
landwriting.  But  Mr.  Ellis  has  observed 
;hat  the  writer  speaks  of  Edward  IV.  as  if 
le  had  been  present  during  the  last  sickness 
jf  that  monureh,  which  could  not  be  the 
:ase  with  More,  only  three  years  old ;  and 
he  is  therefore  inclined  to  believe  that  Mere 
was  only  the  copier  of  a  MS.  deliveicd  to 
lim  by  some  one  else,  probably  Dr.  Mor- 
on.—Pref.  to  Hardyng,  u. 


A.D.  1483.] 


CONDUCT  OP  THE  PEOTECTOE. 


109 


the  enemies  against  whom  it  was  to 
be  directed?  Did  the  Wydeviles 
mean  to  break  the  reconciliation 
which  they  had  sworn  to  observe  ? 
A  long  and  angry  altercation  ensued ; 
Hastings  declared  that  he  would  quit 
the  court,  and  retire  to  his  command 
at  Calais ;  the  queen  thought  it  pru- 
dent to  yield;  and  in  an  evil  hour 
the  resolution  was  taken  that  the 
retinue  of  the  young  king  should  not 
exceed  two  thousand  horsemen.1 

Eichard,  duke  of  Gloucester,  was 
a  prince  of  insatiable  ambition,  who 
could  conceal  the  most  bloody  pro- 
jects under  the  mask  of  affection  and 
loyalty.  Having  the  command  of  the 
army  against  the  Scots,  he  was  em- 
ployed in  the  marches  at  the  time  of 
his  brother's  death ;  but  the  moment 
he  heard  of  that  event,  he  repaired 
to  York  with  a  train  of  six  hundred 
knights  and  esquires  dressed  in  mourn- 
ing, ordered  the  obsequies  of  the 
deceased  king  to  be  performed  with 
royal  magnificence  in  the  cathedral, 
summoned  the  gentlemen  of  the 
county  to  swear  allegiance  to  Ed- 
ward Y. ;  and,  to  give  them  an 
example,  was  himself  the  first  who 
took  the  oath.  At  the  same  time 
he  despatched  letters  to  profess  his 
affection  and  loyalty  to  his  nephew, 
to  condole  with  Elizabeth  on  the  loss 
of  her  consort,  and  to  offer  his  friend- 
ship to  the  earl  Eivers,  and  the  other 
lords  of  the  queen's  family.  Having 
added  to  the  number  of  his  followers, 
he  proceeded  southward,  avowedly 
for  the  purpose  of  assisting  at  the 
coronation,  which  had  been  fixed  by 
the  council  for  the  fourth  of  May.2 

"With  the  object  of  the  secret  mes- 
sages which  during  this  interval  had 
passed  between  the  duke,  and  Buck 
ingham,  and  Hastings,  we  are  unac- 
quainted; of  their  import  we  maj 
form  a  probable  conjecture  from  the 
events  which  immediately  succeeded 


Cont.  Croyl.  565.     More,  41.         »  Ibid. 


The  young  Edward  had  reached  Stony 
tratford  on  his  road  to  London,  on 
he  same   day  on  which   his   uncle 
rrived  at  Northampton,  about  ten 
miles  behind  him.    The  lords  Eivers 
nd  Grey  hastened  to  welcome  Glou- 
ester  in  the  name  of  the  king,  and  to 
ubmit  to  his  approbation  the  orders 
which  had  been  framed  for  the  royal 
mtry  into  the  metropolis.    They  were 
eceived  with  distinction,  and  invited 
o  dine  with  the  duke,  who  lavished 
>n  them  marks  of  his   esteem  and 
riendship.    In  the  evening  came  the 
duke  of  Buckingham  with  a  suite  of 
ihree  hundred  horsemen.    After  sup- 
per Bivers  and  Grey  retired  to  their 
quarters,  highly  pleased  with   their 
reception  ;   the   two  princes,  left  to 
themselves,  arranged  the  plan  of  their 
proceedings  for  the  next  day. 

In  the  morning  it  was  discovered 
that  every  outlet  from  the  town  had 
seen  strongly  guarded  during  the 
night,  for  the  purpose,  it  was  said, 
of  preventing  any  person  from  paying 
tiis  respects  to  the  king  before  the 
arrival  of  his  uncle.  The  circum- 
stance awakened  suspicion ;  but  the 
four  lords  rode  in  company,  and 
apparently  in  friendship,  to  the  en- 
trance of  Stony  Stratford,  when 
Gloucester  suddenly  accused  Eivers 
and  Grey  of  having  estranged  from 
him  the  affection  of  his  nephew. 
They  denied  the  charge,  but  were 
immediately  arrested,  and  conducted 
into  the  rear.  The  two  dukes  pro- 
ceeded to  the  house  where  the  king 
resided,  and  approached  him  bending 
the  knee,  and  professing  their  loyalty 
and  attachment.  But  after  this  out- 
ward demonstration  of  respect,  they 
apprehended  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan 
and  Sir  Eichard  Hawse,  his  confi- 
dential servants,  ordered  the  rest  of 
his  retinue  to  disperse,  and  forbade 
by  proclamation  any  of  them  to  return 
into  the  royal  presence  under  the 
penalty  of  death.  The  prince,  aban- 
doned and  alarmed,  burst  into  tears ; 


ilO 


EDWAKD  Y. 


[CHAP.  in. 


but  Gloucester,  on  his  knees,  conjured 
him  to  dismiss  his  terrors,  to  rely  on 
the  affection  of  his  uncle,  and  to  be- 
lieve that  these  precautions  had  been 
rendered  necessary  by  the  perfidy  of 
the  "Wydeviles.  He  conducted  Ed- 
ward back  to  Northampton,  and 
ordered  the  four  prisoners  to  be 
conveyed  under  a  strong  guard  to 
his  castle  of  Pontefract.1 

The  same  evening  this  mysterious 
transaction  was  confidentially  an- 
nounced to  the  lord  Hastings,  and 
soon  afterwards  was  communicated 
to  the  queen-mother,  who,  foreboding 
the  ruin  of  her  family,  hastily  retired 
with  her  second  son,  llichard,  her 
five  daughters,  and  the  marquess  of 
Dorset,  into  the  sanctuary  at  West- 
minster, and  was  there  lodged  in  the 
abbot's  apartments.  That  asylum  had 
formerly  been  respected  by  her  greatest 
enemy,  the  earl  of  Warwick  ;  it  would 
not,  she  trusted,  be  violated  by  a 
brother-in-law.  The  capital  was  in- 
stantly thrown  into  confusion.  The 
citizens  armed  themselves ;  some  re- 
paired to  Elizabeth  in  Westminster ; 
others  to  the  lord  Hastings  in  Lon- 
don. That  nobleman  in  general  terms 
assured  his  friends,  what  he  probably 
believed  himself,  that  the  two  dukes 
were  loyal  subjects  ;  but  their  real 
purpose  was  preserved  an  impene- 
trable secret;  and  the  adherents  of 
the  queen,  without  a  leader,  and 
without  information,  awaited  the  re- 
sult in  the  most  anxious  uncertainty.2 

On  the  fourth  of  May,  the  day 
originally  appointed  for  the  corona- 
tion, Gloucester  conducted  his  cap- 
tive nephew  into  the  metropolis.  At 
Hornsey  Park  they  were  met  by  the 
lord  mayor  and  aldermen  in  scarlet, 
followed  by  five  hundred  citizens  in 
violet.  The  young  king  wore  a  long 
mantle  of  blue  velvet,  his  attendants 
were  dressed  in  deep  mourning; 


Gloucester  rode  before  him  with 
his  head  bare,  and  pointed  him  out 
to  the  acclamations  of  the  citizens. 
He  was  lodged  with  all  the  honours 
of  royalty  in  the  palace  of  the  bishop, 
and  immediately  received  the  fealty 
and  homage  of  the  prelates,  lords, 
and  commoners,  who  were  present.  A 
great  council  had  been  summoned, 
and  continued  to  sit  during  several 
days.  On  the  motion  of  the  duke  of 
Buckingham  the  king  was  removed 
to  the  Tower ;  a  distant  day,  the  22nd 
of  June,  was  fixed  for  the  coronation ; 
the  seals  were  taken  from  the  arch- 
bishop of  York  and  given  to  the 
bishop  of  Lincoln ;  several  officers  of 
the  crown  were  dismissed,  to  make 
room  for  the  adherents  of  the  ruling 
party ;  and  Gloucester,  who  had  been 
appointed  protector,  assumed  the  lofty 
style  of  "  brother  and  uncle  of  kings, 
protectour  and  defensour,  great  cham- 
berlayne,  constable,  and  lord  high 
admiral  of  England."3 

What  may  have  been  the  original 
object  of  this  prince  can  be  only  mat- 
ter for  conjecture.  It  is  not  often 
that  the  adventurer  discerns  at  the 
outset  the  goal  at  which  he  ultimately 
arrives.  The  tide  of  events  bears  him 
forward  ;  and  past  success  urges  him 
to  still  higher  attempts.  If  the  duke 
aspired  to  nothing  more  than  the  pro- 
tectorate, his  ambition  was  not  to  be 
blamed.  It  was  a  dignity  which  the 
precedents  of  the  two  last  minorities 
seemed  to  have  attached  to  the  king's 
uncle.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  he 
could  not  stand  so  near  to  the  throne, 
without  wishing  to  place  himself  on 
it ;  and  that,  when  he  had  once  taken 
his  resolve,  no  consideration  of  blood, 
or  justice,  or  humanity,  could  divert 
him  from  his  object.  He  proceeded, 
however,  with  that  caution  and  dis- 
simulation which  marked  his  charac- 
ter ;  his  designs  were  but  gradually 


i  Cont.  Croyl.  565.     More,  41,  42. 
»  Cont.  Croyl.  565,  566.    More,  43. 


3  Cont.  Crojl.  566.  More,  47.  Rym.  xii. 
Buck,  in  Rennet,  522.  Fab.  513.  Drake'a 
Eborac.  115, 


A.D.  1-183. J       MURDER  OP  HASTINGS  AND  OTHERS. 


Ill 


and  partially  unfolded ;  nor  did  he 
openly  avow  his  pretension  to  the 
crown,  till  he  had  removed  the  most 
trusty  of  the  king's  friends,  and  taken 
from  the  rest  every  hope  of  opposing 
him  with  success. 

While  orders  were  issued  and  pre- 
parations made  for  the  expected 
coronation,  Gloucester  was  busily 
employed  in  maturing  his  plans, 
and  despatching  instructions  to  his 
adherents.  The  council  met  daily  at 
the  royal  apartments  in  the  Tower; 
the  confidants  of  the  protector  at 
Crosby-place,  in  Bishopsgate-street, 
his  residence  in  London.  These  sepa- 
rate meetings  did  not  escape  the  notice 
of  Lord  Stanley ;  but  his  suspicion 
was  lulled  by  the  assurance  of  Hast- 
ings that  he  had  secured  the  services 
of  a  trusty  agent,  through  whom  he 
learned  the  most  secret  counsels  of 
Gloucester.  The  sequel  will  make  it 
probable  that  this  trusty  agent  de- 
ceived and  betrayed  him.  A  sum- 
mons was  issued  to  forty-eight  lords 
and  gentlemen  to  attend,  and  receive 
knighthood  preparatory  to  the  coro- 
nation of  the  young  king,  a  measure 
devised  as  a  blind  by  the  protector ; 
for  three  days  later  he  despatched 
orders  to  bis  retainers  in  the  north 
to  hasten  to  London  for  his  protec- 
tion against  the  bloody  designs  of  the 
queen  and  her  kinsmen  ;  and  shortly 
afterwards  enter  ing  the  council-cham- 
Der  at  the  Tower,  he  stood  at  first  in 
silence  knitting  his  brows,  and  then 


in  answer  to  a  remark  by  Lord  Hast- 
ings, called  him  a  traitor,  and  struck 
his  fist  upon  the  table.  A  voice  at 
the  door  exclaimed,  "Treason,"  and 
a  body  of  ruffians  bursting  into  the 
room  arrested  Hastings,  Stanley,  and 
the  two  prelates,  York  and  E?y.  The 
three  last  were  conveyed  to  separate 
cells;  Hastings  was  told  to  prepare 
for  immediate  execution.  It  was  in 
vain  that  he  inquired  the  cause.  The 
order  of  the  protector  would  not 
admit  of  delay ;  the  first  priest  who 
offered  himself  received  his  confession ; 
and  a  piece  of  timber,  which  acci- 
dentally lay  in  the  green  at  the  door 
of  the  chapel,  served  for  the  block  on 
which  he  was  beheaded.  A  procla- 
mation was  issued  the  same  after- 
noon, announcing  that  Hastings  and 
his  friends  had  conspired  to  put  to 
death  the  dukes  of  Gloucester  and 
Buckingham,  who  had  miraculously 
escaped  the  snare  laid  for  their  de- 
struction.1 

On  the  same  day  (and  the  time 
should  be  noticed)  Ratcliffe,  one  of 
the  boldest  partisans  of  the  protector, 
at  tho  tead  of  a  numerous  body  of 
armed  men,  entered  the  castle  of  Pon- 
tefract,  and  made  himself  master  of 
the  lord  Grey,  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan, 
and  Sir  Richard  Hawse.  To  the  spec- 
tators it  was  announced  that  they  had 
been  guilty  of  treason ;  but  no  judicial 
forms  were  observed ;  and  the  heads 
of  the  victims  were  struck  off  in  the 
presence  of  the  multitude.2  Two  days 


*  Cent.  Croyl.  566.    More,  53,  54.    Poly- 
dor.  536. 

*  Cont.  Croyl.  507.    More  asserts  repeat- 
edly that  theseraurders  occurred  on  the  same 
day  as  that  of  Lord  Hastings.      This  may  be 
true  of  the  others,   but   is  not  correct  as 
to  Lord   Rivers,   who   was    indeed  put   to 
death  at  Pontefract,  but  a  few  days  later, 
and  by  command  of  the  earl  of  Northum- 
berland.—Rouse,   214.      We   have  his   will 
dated    at    Sheriff  Hutton   on  the  23rd  of 
June  ;    a   long   and   elaborate   instrument, 
composed  probably  under    the    apprehen- 
sion, but  without  any  certain  knowledge,  of 
the  fate  which   awaited   him.      If  he   died 
beyond  the  Trent,  he  directs  his  body  to  be 


buried  before  our  lady  of  Pewe,  besides  St. 
Stephen's  college  at  Westminster ;  other- 
wise  his  heart  to  be  taken  and  buried  there. 
But  at  the  end  of  the  will,  immediately  after 
the  names  of  the  witnesses,  we  meet  with 
this  affecting  and  significant  passage.  "  My 
will  is  now  to  be  buried  before  an  image  of 
our  blessed  lady  Mary  with  my  lord  Richard, 
in  Pomfrete ;  and  Ih'u  have  mercy  of  my 
soule,  &c."  It  is  plain  that  this  addition 
was  made  by  him  after  he  had  received 
notice  of  his  approaching  execution,  and  at 
a  moment  when  haste  or  perturbation  of 
mind  prevented  hina  from  finishing  what  he 
meant  to  write.  The  direction  for  his 
burial  with  "the  lord  Richard  (Grey)" 


112 


EDWARD  V. 


[CHAP.  in. 


afterwards  a  letter  from  the  duke  was 
delivered  by  Ratclifle  to  the  mayor 
and  citizens  of  York,  informing  them 
of  the  traitorous  designs  imputed  to 
Elizabeth  and  the  Wydeviles;  and 
lour  days  later  proclamations  were 
issued  in  the  northern  counties,  com- 
manding all  men  "  to  rise,  and  come 
to  London  under  the  earl  of  Northum- 
berland and  the  lord  Neville,  to  assist 
in  subduing,  correcting,  and  punish- 
ing the  quene,  her  blode,  and  other 
her  adherents,  who  entended  to  mur- 
der and  destroy  the  protectour  and 
his  cousyn  the  duo  of  Buckyng- 
ham,  and  the  old  royal  blode  of  the 
realm."1 

With  these  proceedings  in  the 
north,  the  inhabitants  of  London  were 
yet  unacquainted ;  but  the  murder  of 
Hastings,  and  the  arrest  of  Stanley 
and  the  two  prelates,  had  freed 
Gloucester  from  all  apprehensions 
on  the  part  of  those  who  were  most 
attached  to  the  family  of  the  late 
king.  Of  the  royal  brothers,  the  elder 
had  been  securely  lodged  in  the  Tower ; 
the  younger  still  remained  in  sanc- 
tuary under  the  eye  of  Elizabeth. 
Him  also,  the  protector  resolved  to 
have  at  his  mercy;  and  before  the 
terror  created  by  the  late  execution 
could  subside,  he  proceeded  to  West- 
minster in  his  barge,  accompanied  by 
several  noblemen  and  prelates,  and 
followed  by  a  numerous  body  of  armed 
men.  There  cannot  be  a  doubt  that 
he  intended  to  employ  force,  if  force 
should  be  found  necessary;  but  he 
determined  to  try  first  the  influence 
of  persuasion,  and  ordered  a  deputa- 
tion of  lords  with  the  cardinal  of 
Canterbury  at  their  head,  to  enter 


and  demand  the  young  prince  from 
his  mother.  The  ingenious  argu- 
ments which  Sir  Thomas  More  has 
attributed  to  the  prelate,  and  the 
affecting  replies  which  he  has  put 
into  the  mouth  of  the  queen,  are  pro- 
bably the  composition  of  the  writer  ;- 
a  better  authority  assures  us  that 
Elizabeth,  convinced  of  the  inutility 
of  resistance,  affected  to  acquiesce  with 
cheerfulness  in  the  demand.  She 
called  for  her  boy,  gave  him  a  last 
and  hasty  embrace,  and  turning  her 
back,  burst  into  tears.  The  innocent 
victim  was  conducted  with  great  pomp 
to  the  Tower ;  and  while  the  mother 
abandoned  herself  to  the  prophetic 
misgivings  of  her  heart,  her  sons  made 
themselves  happy  in  the  company 
of  each  other,  little  suspecting  the 
wiles  and  cruelty  of  their  unnatural 
uncle.3 

The  partisans  of  the  protector  were 
now  employed  in  circulating  the  most 
strange  and  incredible  rumours.  Some 
revived  the  tale  originally  invented  by 
Clarence,  that  the  late  king,  though 
the  reputed  son  of  the  duke  of  York, 
was  in  reality  the  fruit  of  an  adulte- 
rous intercourse  between  his  mother 
Cecily,  and  a  knight  in  the  service  of 
her  husband.  Others,  and  in  greater 
numbers,  affected  to  throw  doubts  on 
the  validity  of  his  marriage  with 
Elizabeth,  and  consequently  on  the 
legitimacy  of  his  children  by  that 
lady.  To  aid  these  impressions,  the 
protector  appeared  in  a  new  cha- 
racter, that  of  the  patron  and  avenger 
of  public  morals.  Among  the  mar- 
ried women  who  were  known  to  have 
yielded  to  the  desires  of  Edward,  was 
Jane,  the  wife  of  Shore,  a  young  and 


shows  that  that  nobleman  had  already  been 
put  to  death,  and  was  interred  in  the  church 
at  Ponlofract.— See  the  will,  Excerpt.  His- 
tor.  p.  ir.46. 

1  See  the  originals  in  Drake's  Eboracum, 
115.  It  is  observable  that  on  the  -8th 
Richard  wrote  to  the  citizens'  of  York  a 
cajoling  letter,  promising  to  reward  them 
for  their  constant  attachment  to  him  j  and 


two  days  later,  on  the  10th,  but  three  days 
before  the  murders  in  the  Tower  and  at 
Pontefract,  he  wrote  again  to  inform  them 
of  the  plots  against  his  life  by  the  queen 
and  her  friends.  The  letter  was  five  days 
on  the  road,  and  was  delivered  by  Katolifi'e 
to  the  mayor. 

2  More,  48—51.  3  Cont.  Crol.  566. 


AC.  1183.J   SEEMON  IN  FAVOUE  Or  THE  PEOTECTOE. 


US 


opulent  citizen.  From  the  moment 
that  her  seduction  became  public,  she 
had  been  abandoned  by  her  husband ; 
and  notwithstanding  the  inconstancy 
of  her  lover,  had  contrived  to  retain  the 
principal  place  in  the  king's  affections 
till  the  time  of  his  death.  This  woman, 
whose  husband  was  now  dead,  Richard 
singled  out  for  punishment.  Her 
plate  and  jewels,  to  the  value  of  three 
thousand  mark?,  he  very  wisely  ap- 
propriated to  himself ;  her  person  he 
delivered  over  to  the  ecclesiastical 
court  to  be  punished  according  to  the 
canons.  In  her  kirtle,  with  her  feet 
bare,  carrying  a  lighted  taper  in  her 
hand,  and  preceded  by  an  officer  bear- 
ing the  cross,  Shore  was  compelled  to 
walk  through  the  streets  of  the  capital 
lined  with  an  immense  concourse  of 
people.1  That  her  penance  could  not 
affect  the  title  of  Edward's  children, 
is  evident;  but  it  served  to  direct  the 
attention  of  the  public  to  the  dissolute 
conduct  of  that  monarch,  and  to  pre- 
pare men  for  the  marvellous  scene 
which  was  soon  to  be  exhibited. 

By  this  time  the  retainers  of  the 
late  Lord  Hastings,  and  a  numerous 
body  of  "Welshmen,  had  joined  the 
duke  of  Buckingham ;  and  the  ruf- 
fians who  had  murdered  the  prisoners 
at  Pontefract  had  reached  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  London  with  a  force  of 
Yorkshiremen.  It  was  believed  that, 
in  the  course  of  the  week,  the  pro- 
tector and  the  duke  would  have 
twenty  thousand  armed  men  under 
their  command  in  the  metropolis.2 
In  these  circumstances  no  danger 
could  be  apprehended  from  the  public 
exposure  of  Gloucester's  object.  On 


the  next  Sunday,  therefore,  he  ap- 
pointed Dr.  Shaw,  the  brother  of  the 
lord  mayor,  to  preach  at  St.  Paul's 
Cross,  who  selected  for  his  text  tlio 
following  passage  of  the  Book  of  Wis 
dom  :  "  Bastard  slips  shall  not  strike 
deep  roots."  Havin  g  maintained  from 
different  examples  that  children  were 
seldom  permitted  to  enjoy  the  fruit 
of  their  father's  inquity,  he  proceeded 
to  describe  the  well-known  libertinism 
of  the  late  king,  who,  he  averred,  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  promising  mar- 
riage to  every  woman  whom  he  found 
it  difficult  to  seduce.  Thus,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  his  reign,  to  gratify  his  pas- 
sion, he  had  not  hesitated  to  contract 
marriage  in  private  with  Eleanor,  the 
widow  of  the  lord  Boteler  of  Sudely,3 
and  afterwards  had  married  in  the 
same  clandestine  manner  Elizabeth, 
the  widow  of  Sir  John  Grey.  At  a 
subsequent  period  he  had  thought 
proper  to  acknowledge  the  second 
contract;  but  such  acknowledgment 
could  not  annul  the  prior  right  of 
Eleanor,  who  in  the  eyes  of  God  and 
man  was  the  true  wife  of  the  king. 
Hence  the  preacher  concluded  that 
Elizabeth,  though  admitted  as  queen 
of  England,  could  be  considered  in 
no  other  light  than  a  concubine ;  and 
that  her  children  by  Edward  had  no 
legitimate  claim  to  the  succession  of 
their  father.  Indeed,  he  entertained 
a  doubt,  whether  that  prince  were  in 
reality  the  son  of  Eichard  duke  of 
York,  and  real  heir  to  the  crown. 
All  who  had  been  acquainted  with 
the  duke  must  know  that  there  existed 
no  resemblance  between  him  and  Ed- 
ward. "  But,"  he  exclaimed  (and  at 


1  More,  56,  57.  He  gives  her  in  one 
T«spect  a  commendable  character.  "  Many 
the  king  had,  but  her  he  loved,  whose 
favour,  to  say  the  truth  (for  sin  it  were  to 
belie  the  devil)  she  never  abused  to  any 
man's  hurt,  but  to  many  a  man's  comfort 

and  relief. and  now  she  beggeth  of 

many  at  this  day  living,  that  at  this  day  had 
begged,  if  she  had  not  been." — Ibid. 

a  "  Yt  is  thought  (her  echalbe  xx  thousand 


of  my  lord  protectour  and  my  lord  Bukyng- 
ham  men  in  London  this  weike,  to  what 
intent  I  knowe  note  but  to  kep  the  peas." — 
Stallworth  to  Sir  William  Stoner,  xxi  June. 
Excerpt.  Hist.  17. 

3  In  Sir  Thomas  More,  Elizabeth  Lucy  is 
substituted  for  Lady  Boteler.  It  is  pro- 
bably an  accidental  mistake,  as  both  are 
said  to  have  been  Edward's  mistresses,— 
More,  61. 

I 


U4 


EDWARD  V. 


!  CHAP.  III. 


the  rery  moment  the  protector,  as  if 
by  accident,  passing  through  the 
crowd,  showed  himself  from  a  bal- 
cony near  the  pulpit),  "  here,  in  the 
duke  of  Gloucester,  we  have  the  very 
picture  of  that  hero ;  here  every  linea- 
ment reflects  the  features  of  the 
father."  It  was  expected  that  at  these 
words  the  citizens  would  have  ex- 
claimed, "  Long  live  King  Richard ;" 
but  they  gazed  on  each  other  in  silent 
astonishment;  the  protector  put  on  an 
air  of  displeasure ;  and  the  preacher 
having  hastily  concluded  his  sermon, 
slunk  away  to  his  home.  It  is  said, 
that  he  never  afterwards  ventured 
beyond  his  own  door,  but  pined  away 
through  shame  and  remorse.1 

Richard,  however,  was  not  dis- 
heartened by  the  failure  of  this  at- 
tempt, but  intrusted  his  cause  to  the 
eloquence  of  a  more  noble  advocate. 
On  tho  next  Tuesday  the  duke  of 
Buckingham,  attended  by  several 
lords  and  gentlemen,  harangued  the 
citizens  from  the  hustings  at  Guild- 
hall. He  reminded  them  of  Edward's 
tyranny,  of  the  sums  which  he  had 
extorted  under  the  name  of  benevo- 
lence, and  of  the  families  which  he 
had  rendered  unhappy  by  his  amours. 
He  then  took  occasion  to  allude  to 
the  sermon  which  they  had  heard  on 
the  last  Sunday,  the  story  of  the 
King's  pre-contract  with  the  lady 
Boteler,  his  subsequent  union  with 


1  More,  60,  61.  This  sermon  is  rejected 
by  the  author  of  the  Historic  Doubts.  That 
several  of  the  speeches  recorded  by  Sir 
Thomas  More  are  mere  rhetorical  exercises, 
is  indeed  probable ;  but  it  is  equally  pro- 
bable that  in  mentioning  this  public  and 
celebrated  sermon,  which  was  still  in  the 
recollection  of  many  of  his  readers,  he 
would  preserve  at  least  its  substance.  The 
principal  part  of  his  narrative  is  moreover 
corroborated  by  the  testimony  of  Fabyan 

^514,  515),  who  was  probably  present, 
the  objection  that  the  protector  lived  in 
habits  of  friendship  with  his  mother,  and 
therefore  would  not  allow  her  character  to 
be  asperssd,  it  may  be  replied  that  there  is 
no  satisfactory  proof  of  that  friendship,  and 
that  the  man  wno  could  shed  the  blood  of 
two  nephews  to  procure  the  crown,  would 


the  lady  Grey,  and  the  illegitimacy 
of  the  children  the  fruit  of  that  pre- 
tended marriage.  He  added,  that  evi- 
dently the  right  to  the  crown  was  in 
Richard  duke  of  Gloucester,  the  only 
true  issue  of  the  duke  of  York,  and 
that  the  lords  and  commons  of  the 
northern  counties  had  sworn  never 
to  submit  to  the  rule  of  a  bastard. 
Contrary  to  his  expectations,  the  citi- 
zens were  still  silent ;  he  at  length 
required  an  answer,  whether  it  were 
in  favour  of  the  protector  or  not; 
and  a  few  persons,  hired  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  stationed  at  the  bottom  of 
the  hall,  having  thrown  up  their  bon- 
nets, and  exclaimed  "  King  Richard," 
the  duke  gave  the  assembly  his  thanks 
for  their  assent,  and  invited  them  to 
accompany  him  next  day  to  Baynard's 
Castle,  which  was  at  that  time  the 
residence  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester.2 
In  the  morning,  Buckingham,  with 
many  lords  and  gentlemen,  and  Shaw, 
the  lord  mayor,  with  the  principal 
citizens,  proceeded  to  the  palace,  and 
demanded  an  audience.3  The  pro- 
tector affected  to  be  surprised  at  their 
arrival;  expressed  apprehensions  for 
his  safety ;  and  when  at  last  he  showed 
himself  at  a  window,  appeared  before 
them  with  strong  marks  of  embarrass- 
ment and  perturbation.  Buckingham, 
with  his  permission,  presented  to  him 
an  address,  which,  having  been  after- 
wards embodied  in  an  act  of  parlia- 


not  refuse  to  allow  the  character  of  his 
mother  to  be  slandered  for  the  same 
purpose.  2  More,  61—65.  Fab.  515. 

3  A  parliament  had  been  summoned  for 
this  very  day,  and  Buckingham  would  take 
advantage  of  the  arrival  of  the  members  to 
induce  many  of  them  to  accompany  him. 
But  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  any 
parliament  was  regularly  held,  though  there 
exists  among  the  Cotton  MSS.  (Vitel.  E.  10) 
a  copy  of  a  speech  with  which  the  bishop 
of  Lincoln,  the  chancellor,  is  supposed  to 
have  opened  it,  beginning  with  a  text  from 
the  service  of  the  feast  of  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist, kept  on  the  24th,  the  day  before.  The 
chancellor,  unaware  cf  the  revolution  which 
was  about  to  take  place,  had  prepared  hia 
speech,  which,  though  never  spoken,  haa 
accidentally  been  preserved. 


A.D.  1-133.] 


PETITION  TO  THE  PEOTECTOB. 


11 


ment,  still  exists  for  the  information 
of  posterity.  It  is  styled  the  con- 
sideration, election,  and  petition  of 
the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and 
commons  of  this  realm  of  England ; 
and  after  an  exaggerated  picture  of 
the  former  prosperity  of  the  kingdom, 
and  of  its  misery  under  the  late  king, 
proceeds  thus :  "  Also  we  consider 
how  the  pretended  marriage  betwixt 
the  above-named  King  Edward  and 
Elizabeth  Grey,  was  made  of  great 
presumption,  without  the  knowing 
and  assent  of  the  lords  of  this  land, 
and  also  by  sorcery  and  witchcraft 
committed  by  the  said  Elizabeth  and 
her  mother  Jacquetta,  duchess  of 
Bedford,  as  the  common  opinion  of 
the  people,  and  the  public  voice  and 
fame  is  throughout  all  this  land,  and 
hereafter,  and  as  the  case  shall  require, 
shall  be  proved  sufficiently  in  time 
and  place  convenient ;  and  here  also 
we  consider  how  that  the  said  pre- 
tensed  marriage  was  made  privily  and 
secretly,  without  edition  of  banns,  in 
a  private  chamber,  a  profane  place,  and 
not  openly  in  the  face  of  the  church 
after  the  law  of  God's  church,  but  con- 
trary thereunto,  and  the  laudable  cus- 
tom of  the  church  of  England ;  and 
how  also  that  at  the  time  of  the  contract 
of  the  said  pretensed  marriage,  and 
before  and  long  after,  the  said  King 
Edward  was  and  stood  married  and 
troth-plight  to  one  Dame  Eleanor 
Butteler,  daughter  of  the  old  earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  with  whom  the  said  King 
Edward  had  made  a  pre-contract  of 
matrimony  long  time  before  he  made 
the  said  pretensed  marriage  with  the 
said  Elizabeth  Grey  in  manner  and 
form  aforesaid;  which  premises  being 
true,  as  in  very  truth  they  be  true, 


t  appeareth  and  folio weth  evidently 
that  the  said  King  Edward,  during 
his  life,  and  the  said  Elizabeth,  lived 
together  sinfully  and  damnably  in 
adultery  ags»:xst  the  law  of  God  and 
of  his  chxrch.  Also  it  appearetli 
evidently  and  iblloweth,  that  all  th« 
issue  and  children  of  the  said  King 
Edward  be  bastards,  and  unable  to  in- 
herit or  to  claim  anything  by  inherit- 
ance by  the  law  and  custom  of  Eng- 
land." Next  is  recited  the  attainder 
of  the  duke  of  Clarence,  by  which  his 
children  were  debarred  from  the  suc- 
cess" on ;  and  thence  it  is  inferred  that 
the  protector  is  the  next  heir  to 
Richard,  late  duke  of  York.  "  And 
hereupon,"  continues  the  petition, 

we  humbly  desire,  pray,  and  require 
your  noble  grace,  that  according  to 
this  election  of  us,  the  three  estates 
of  your  land,  as  by  your  true  inherit- 
ance, you  will  accept  and  take  upon 
you  the  said  crown  and  royal  dignity, 
with  all  things  thereunto  annexed 
and  appertaining,  as  to  you  of  right 
belonging,  as  well  by  inheritance  as 
by  lawful  election." ! 

The  protector  was  careful  not  to 
dispute  the  truth  of  these  assertions. 
But  he  replied  with  modesty,  that  he 
was  not  ambitious :  that  royalty  had 
no  charms  for  him :  that  he  was  muck 
attached  to  the  children  of  his  bro- 
ther, and  would  preserve  the  crown  to 
grace  the  brows  of  his  nephew.  "  Sir," 
returned  the  duke  of  Buckingham, 
"the  free  people  of  England  will 
never  crouch  to  the  rule  of  a  bastard, 
and  if  the  lawful  heir  refuse  the 
sceptre,  we  know  where  to  find  one 
who  will  cheerfully  accept  it."  At 
these  words,  Ilichard  affected  to 
pause ;  and  after  a  short  silence 


i  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  240,  241.  Con.  Croyl.  567. 
But  wa8  there  ever  any  such  a  person  as 
Dame  Eleanor  Butteler,  daughter  of  the  old 
earl  of  Shrewsbury  ?  We  know  so  little  about 
her,  that  her  existence  has  been  called  in 
question.  There  is,  however,  in  the  pos- 
Bession  of  Lord  Shrewsbury,  an  illuminated 
pedigree  by  Glover  in  1580,  in  which  she  is 


named  as  the  first-born  of  the  second  mar- 
riage of  the  first  earl  (wi*h  a  daughter  of 
Beauchamp,  earl  of  Warvick),  and  as  wife 
of  Sir  Thomas  Butler,  Lord  Sndeley.  If 
this  be  correct,  there  must  have  been  the 
disparity  of  at  least  fifteen  years,  pro- 
bably of  more,  between  her  age  and  that 
of  Edward. 

I  2 


116 


RICHARD  III. 


[CHAP,  iv 


replied,  "  that  it  was  his  duty  to  ohey 
the  voice  of  his  people ;  that  since  he 
was  the  true  heir  and  had  been 
chosen  by  the  three  estates,  he  as- 
sented to  their  petition,  and  would 
from  that  day  take  upon  himself  the 
royal  estate,  pre-eminence,  and  the 
kingdom  of  the  two  noble  realms  of 
Er gland  and  France;  the  one  from 
that  day  forward  by  him  and  his  heirs 
to  rule,  the  other  by  God's  grace  and 
their  good  help  to  get  again  and 
subdue." » 

Thus  ended  this  hypocritical  farce. 
The  next  day  Richard  proceeded  to 
Westminster  in  state,  and  took  pos- 
session of  his  pretended  inheritance 
by  placing  himself  on  the  marble  seat 


1  More,  60. 

2  Jbid.  67.     Fab.  515.    Cont.  Croyl.  566, 


in  the  great  hall,  with  the  lord 
Howard,  afterwards  duke  of  Norfolk, 
on  his  right  hand,  and  the  duke  of  Suf- 
folk on  his  left.  To  those  present  he 
stated  that  he  had  chosen  to  com- 
mence his  reign  in  that  place,  because 
the  administration  of  justice  was  the 
first  duty  of  a  king ;  and  ordered  y  re- 
clamation to  be  made  that  he  forgave 
all  offences  which  had  been  committed 
against  him  before  that  hour.  From 
Westminster  he  went  to  St.  Paul's, 
where  he  was  received  by  the  clergy 
in  procession,  and  welcomed  with 
the  acclamations  of  the  people. 
From  that  day,  the  26th  of  June, 
he  dated  the  commencement  of  his 
reign.2 


and  Richard's  o.vn  letter  to  the  garrison  of 
Calais,  Buck,  p.  522.    See  Appendix  I. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

RICHARD  III. 
CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


J5T.  of  Scotland. 
James  III. 


JL.  of  France. 

Louis  XI 1433 

Charles  VIII. 


Sov.  of  Spain. 
Isabella      ; 
Ferdinand  J 


Popes. 
Sixtus  IV.  1481.        Innocent  VIII. 


CORONATION    OF    RICHARD — DEATH    OP    HIS    TWO     NEPHEWS — CONSPIRACY    AGAINST 

HIM      DEFEATED IS      RECONCILED     WITH     ELIZABETH — WISHES      TO      MARRY     HIS 

NIECE — RAISES   AN    ARMY   AGAINST   THE  EARL   OF   RICHMOND — IS   KILLED   IN   THB 
BATTLE   AT   BOSWORTH. 


THE  preparations  which  had  been 
made  for  the  coronation  of  the  ne- 
phew, served  for  that  of  the  uncle ; 
and  the  arrival  of  Ratcliffe,  with  four 
thousand  armed  men  from  the  north, 
dispelled  all  fear  of  opposition  from 


the  friends  of  the  Wydeviles.  In  less 
than  a  fortnight  from  his  acceptance 
of  the  petition  at  Baynard's  Castle, 
Richard  was  crowned  at  Westminster 
with  his  consort  Anne,  the  daughter 
of  the  late  earl  of  Warwick.1  No 


1  In  the  contemporary  account  of  this 
coronation  we  are  told  that  the  anointing 
was  performed  in  the  following  extraordi- 
nary manner.  "  Then  the  kyng  and  the 
queue  put  of  ther  robes,  and  there  [at  the 
high  altar]  stod*  all  nakyd  from  the  medell 


upwards,  and  anone  the  Bushope  anoynted 
bothe  the  kyng  and  the  quyne." — Excerpt. 
Hist.  381.  This  statement,  however,  must 
not  be  taken  literally.  The  king  at  his 
coronation,  after  he  had  been  disrobed  of 
hia  mantle  and  surcoat  by  bis  chamberlaio. 


.  1483.] 


KLCllAIiD'S  PROGRESS. 


117 


expense  was  spared  to  give  splendour 
to  the  ceremony :  almost  all  the  peers 
and  peeresses  graced  it  with  their  pre- 
sence ;  and  it  was  remarked  that  the 
train  of  the  king  was  borne  by  the 
duke  of  Buckingham,  that  of  the 
queen  by  the  countess  of  Richmond, 
both  descendants  of  John  of  Ghent, 
and  the  heads  of  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster.1 

The  new  king  employed  the  first 
days  of  his  reign  in  acts  of  favour 
and  clemency.  The  lord  Stanley,  the 
husband  of  the  countess  of  llichmond, 
had  not  only  appeased  his  jealousy,  but 
was  appointed  steward  of  the  house- 
hold, and  afterwards  constable  of 
England ;  the  archbishop  of  York 
regained  his  liberty ;  Morton,  bishop 
of  Ely,  was  released  from  his  dungeon 
in  the  Tower,  and  committed  to  the 
custody  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham 
in  the  castle  of  Brecknock  ;  the  lord 
Howard  obtained  the  office  of  earl 
marshal,  with  the  title  of  duke  of 
Norfolk ;  his  son  was  created  earl  of 
Surrey ;  many  of  the  nobility  were 
raised  to  a  higher  rank;  and  the 
treasures  amassed  and  left  by  Edward 
were  lavishly  employed  in  the  reward 
of  past,  and  the  purchase  of  future 
services. 

Richard  had  of  late  affected  an  ex- 
traordinary zeal  for  their  suppression 
of  crime  and  the  reformation  of  man- 
ners. Before  their  departure,  he  called 
the  lords  before  him  and  admonished 
them  to  keep  the  peace  in  their  coun- 


ties, and  to  assist  his  officers  in  the 
apprehension  and  punishment  o. 
offenders.  Within  a  few  days  he  fol- 
lowed them  himself,  declaring  it  to  be 
his  intention  to  travel  through  the 
kingdom  for  the  same  purpose.  His 
progress  was  slow.  In  all  the  great 
towns  he  administered  justice  ia 
person,  listened  to  petitions,  and  dis 
pensed  favours.*  The  inhabitants  of 
Oxford,  Woodstock,  Gloucester,  and 
Worcester  were  honoured  with  his 
presence ;  at  Warwick  he  was  joined 
by  the  queen,  the  Spanish  ambassa- 
dors, and  many  of  the  nobility ;  and 
the  court,  after  a  week's  residence  in 
that  city,  proceeded  through  Coven- 
try, Leicester,  Nottingham,  and  Pon- 
tefract,  to  York.3  The  inhabitants 
had  been  previously  warned  to  display 
every  mark  of  joy,  "  that  the  southern 
lords  might  mark  the  resayving  of 
their  graces."  The  gentlemen  of  the 
neighbourhood  had  received  orders  to 
attend  and  to  do  the  king  homage ;  and 
part  of  the  royal  wardrobe  had  been 
forwarded  from  London,  that  Richard 
and  his  queen  might  appear  in  their 
most  splendid  dresses.  To  please  the 
men  of  the  north,  among  whom  he 
had  for  some  years  been  popular,  he 
was  again  crowned  with  his  consort ; 
and  the  ceremony  was  performed 
with  the  same  pomp  and  pageantry 
which  had  been  exhibited  in  the 
metropolis.4 

While  Kichard  was  thus  spending 
his  time  in  apparent  security  at  York, 


remained  in  a  close  dress  of  crimson  satin, 
in  which  openings  had  been  already  pre- 
pared for  the  anointments  on  his  back, 
breast,  shoulders,  and  elbows.  The  queen 
was  anointed  on  the  forehead  and  the  chest 
'vnly;  so  that  one  opening  sufficed  in  her 
dress,  which  was  unlaced  and  relaced  by  the 
lady  in  waiting.  A  large  pall  or  awning  was 
held  over  them  during  the  ceremony.  See 
the  device  for  the  coronation  In  Rutland 
Papers,  pp.  8,  9,  16,  20;  See  also  Selden, 
Titles  of  Honour,  c.  viii. 

i  Cont.  Croyl.  567.  Hall,  25,  26.  In  the 
Historic  Doubts  (p.  65)  we  are  told  that  the 
deposed  prince  walked  in  the  procession  ; 
because  it  appears  that  robes  were  ordered 
for  him  and  his  henchmen  or  pages.  The 


inference  is  far  from  correct,  as  the  robes 
charged  in  the  roll  (Archa>ol.  i.  372,  373)  are 
probably  those  which  had  been  ordered  and 
made  for  Edward's  own  coronation.  To 
have  forced  him  to  walk  on  such  an  occasion 
would  have  been  a  dangerous  experiment : 
nor  could  it  have  escaped  the  notice  of  the 
contemporary  writers,  who  mention  the 
principal  personages. 

2  Apud  Drake,  Eborac.  116. 

3  Rouse,  217.    I  am  the  more  particula 
in  noticing    this    progress,   as    Laing    haa 
crowded  the  whole  of  it  into  the  short  space 
of  seven  days  (p.  420). 

*  Drake's    Eborac.     116.     117.       Cont. 
Croyl.  567. 


tie 


HICITARD  III. 


fCHAP.  IT. 


he  was  apprised  of  the  tempest  which 
had  been  gathering  behind  him.  The 
terror  of  his  presence  had  before 
silenced  the  suspicions  of  the  public ; 
but  he  was  no  sooner  gone,  than  men 
freely  communicated  their  thoughts 
to  each  other,  commiserated  the  lot 
*rf  the  young  Edward  and  his  bro- 
ker in  the  Tower,  and  openly  con- 
demned the  usurpation  of  the  crown 
by  their  unnatural  uncle.  Dif- 
ferent plans  were  suggested.  Some 
proposed  to  liberate  the  two  princes 
from  their  confinement :  others  pre- 
ferred the  less  dangerous  measure  of 
conveying  one  or  more  of  their  sisters 
beyond  sea,  that,  whatever  might  be 
the  subsequent  policy  of  Richard,  the 
posterity  of  his  brother  might  survive 
to  claim,  perhaps  to  recover,  the 
crown.  But  the  king,  though  it  was 
unknown,  had  already  guarded  against 
the  first  of  these  projects  by  the  mur- 
der of  his  nephews;  and  to  prevent 
the  second  he  had  ordered  John  Nes-» 
field  to  surround  the  sanctuary  of 
"Westminster  with  a  body  of  armed 
men,  and  to  refuse  ingress  or  egress 
to  any  person  without  a  special 
license.1  Meanwhile  the  friends  of 
the  princes  steadily  pursued  their 
object.  In  Kent,  Essex,  and  Sussex, 
in  Berkshire,  Hants,  Wilts,  and  De- 
vonshire, meetings  were  privately 
held ;  a  resolution  was  taken  to  appeal 
to  arms ;  and  the  hopes  of  the  confe- 
derates were  raised  by  the  unexpected 
accession  of  a  most  powerful  ally. 
"What,  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks, 
could  have  changed  the  duke  of 
Buckingham  from  a  zealous  friend 
into  a  determined  enemy  to  the  new 
king,  it  is  in  vain  to  conjecture.  If 
his  services  to  Richard  had  been 
great,  they  had  been  amply  rewarded. 


He  had  been  made  constable  of  Eng- 
land, justiciary  of  Wales,  governor  of 
the  royal  castles  in  that  principality, 
and  steward  of  the  king's  manors  in 
Hereford  and  Shropshire ;  and  in 
addition  had  obtained  the  opulent 
inheritance  of  Humphrey  de  Bohun, 
which  the  late  monarch  had  unjustly 
annexed  to  his  own  demesnes.2  Per- 
haps his  knowledge  of  the  cruel  and 
suspicious  character  of  the  usurper 
had  taught  him  to  fear  that  he  him- 
self, to  whom  the  Lancastrians  looked 
up  for  protection,  might  be  the  next 
victim ;  perhaps,  as  has  been  said,  his 
opinions  were  changed  by  the  artful 
and  eloquent  observations  of  his  pri- 
soner Morton.  However  that  may 
be,  Buckingham,  whose  wife  was  the 
sister  of  Elizabeth,  engaged  to  restore 
the  crown  to  the  young  prince,  whom 
he  had  contributed  to  dethrone ;  and 
his  resolution  to  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  party  was  communicated 
ir>  circular  letters  to  the  principal  of 
the  confederates.  At  that  very  mo- 
ment, when  their  hearts  beat  with 
the  confidence  of  success,  their  hopes 
were  suddenly  dashed  to  the  ground 
by  the  mournful  intelligence  that  the 
two  princes  for  whom  they  intended 
to  fight  were  no  longer  alive.3 

On  what  day,  or  in  what  manner 
they  perished,  was  kept  a  profound 
secret :  the  following  is  the  most  con- 
sistent and  probable  account,  collected 
from  the  confession  made  by  the 
murderers  in  the  next  reign.  Soon 
after  his  departure  from  London, 
Richard  had  tampered  in  vain  with 
Brackenbury,  the  governor  of  the 
Tower.  Prom  Warwick  he  despatched 
Sir  James  Tyrrel,  his  master  of  the 
horse,  with  orders  that  he  should 
receive  the  keys  and  the  command 


i  Cont.  Croyl.  567,  568. 

a  Bohun  had  left  two  daughters,  who 
divided  his  property  between  them.  One 
married  Henry  IV.,  the  other  an  ancestor 
of  the  duke.  When  the  posterity  of 
Henry  IT.  became  extinct  in  Henry  VI., 


Buckingham  claimed  the  share  of  the  se- 
cond sister;  but  it  was  refused  by  Ed- 
ward IV.  Most  writers  say  that  Richard 
also  refused  it ;  but  the  contrary  appears 
from  Dugdale's  Baronage,  i.  168. 
3  Cont.  Croyl.  568. 


A.D.  1-183.1 


MUEDEll  OF  THE  TWO  PRINCES. 


119 


of  the  fortress  during  twenty-four 
hours.  In  the  night,  Tyrrel,  accom- 
panied by  Forest,  a  known  assassin, 
and  Dighton,  one  of  his  grooms, 
ascended  the  staircase  leading  to  the 
chamber  in  which  the  two  princes 
lay  asleep.  While  Tyrrel  watched 
•without,  Forest  and  Dighton  entered 
the  room,  smothered  their  victims 
with  the  bed-clothes,  called  in  their 
employer  to  view  the  dead  bodies, 
and  by  his  orders  buried  them  at  the 
foot  of  the  staircase.  In  the  morn- 
ing Tyrrel  restored  the  keys  to 
Brackenbury,  and  rejoined  the  king 
before  his  coronation  at  York.  Aware 
of  the  execration  to  which  the  know- 
ledge of  this  black  deed  must  expose 
him,  Richard  was  anxious  that  it 
should  not  transpire;  but  when  he 
understood  that  men  had  taken  up 


arms  to  liberate  the  two  princes,  he 
suffered  the  intelligence  of  their  death 
to  be  published,  that  he  might  dis- 
concert the  plans,  and  awaken  tho 
fears  of  his  enemies.1 

The  intelligence  was  received  with 
horror  both  by  the  friends  and  the  foes 
of  the  usurper ;  but  if  it  changed  the 
object,  it  did  not  dissolve  the  union 
of  the  conspirators.  They  could  not 
retrace  their  steps  with  security ;  and 
since  the  princes  for  whom  they  had 
intended  to  fight  were  no  longer  alive, 
it  became  necessary  to  set  up  a  new 
competitor  in  opposition  to  Richard. 
The  bishop  of  Ely  proposed  that  the 
crown  should  be  offered  to  Henry,  the 
young  earl  of  Richmond,  the  repre- 
sentative, in  right  of  his  mother,  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster,2  but  on  the  con- 
dition that  he  should  marry  the  prin- 


1  See  More's  account  of  the  murder,  67,  68.    Objections  have  been  raised  against  it, 
but  I  hope  to  sh->w  that  they  are  of  no  weight  in  Appendix  K.— Carte   attributes  the 
story  of  the  death  of  the  princes  to  Buckingham  and  his  friends,  as  if  it  were  intended 
to  aid  the  insurrection  (iii.  822) ;  from  the   Croyland  historian  it  is  certain  that  it  was 
published  by  others,  and  had  at  first  the  effect  of  disconcerting  all  their  projects. — Cont. 
Croyl.  568. 

2  If  Margaret,  countess  of  Richmond,  was  the  great-granddaughter  of  John  of  Ghent, 
BO  was  Margaret,  countess  of  Stafford,  the  mother  of  Buckingham  ;  but  as  the  father  of 
the  former  was  an  elder  brother,  she  was  deemed  the  head  of  the  house  of  Lancaster,  and 
had  married  Edmund,  earl  of  Richmond,  the  son  of  Queen  Catherine  by  Owen  Tudor. 
Buckingham  was    descended    also    from    Thomas,    duke   of   Gloucester,   sixth  son  o* 
Edward  III.    These  particulars  will  be  plain  from  the  following  table  :— 

Edward  III. 


Johr 


=     Catherine      Thomas, 
duke  of    I      Swynford.      duke  of 
Lancaster.  Gloucester. 


Catherine,  =_Owen      John, 
relict  of 
Henry  V. 


Tudor,    duke  of 


Anne,  =  Edmund, 
I       earl  of 
Stafford. 


Somerset.    Somerset. 


Humphrey, 

duke  of 
Buckingham. 


Ed  mun  d,=Mar  gare  t . 
earl  of 
Richmond. 


Henry. 

earl  of 

Uichmond. 


Henry,    Edmund,      Margaret  =  Humphrey, 


duke  of      duke  of 
Somerset,   Somerset, 

O.  S.  p.          O.  8.  p. 


earl  of 
Stafford. 


Henrr, 

duke  of 

Buckingham. 


ISO 


HICIIARD  JII. 


[CHAP.  iv. 


cess  Elizabeth,  to  whom  the  claim  of 
the  house  of  York  had  now  devolved ; 
a  marriage  which,  the  prelate  observed, 
would  unite  the  partisans  of  the  two 
families  in  one  common  cause,  enable 
them  to  triumph  over  the  murderer, 
and  put  an  end  to  those  dissensions 
which  had  so  long  convulsed  and 
depopulated  the  nation.  The  sug- 
gestion was  approved  by  the  queen 
dowager,  the  duke  of  Buckingham, 
the  marquess  of  Dorset,  and  most  of 
their  friends;  the  countess  of  Rich- 
mond consented  in  the  name  of  her 
son ;  and  a  messenger  was  despatched 
to  Bretagne,  to  inform  the  carl  of 
the  agreement,  to  hasten  his  return 
to  England,  and  to  announce  the 
eighteenth  of  October  as  the  day 
fixed  for  the  general  rising  in  his 
favour.1 

The  new  plan  of  the  confederates 
escaped  the  vigilance  of  the  king, 
who,  ignorant  of  his  danger,  pro- 
ceeded from  York  into  Lincolnshire ; 
but  in  a  fortnight  the  answer  of 
Henry  was  received,  and  was  no 
sooner  communicated  to  his  friends 
than  it  reached  the  ears  of  Richard. 
To  prepare  for  the  contest,  he  sum- 
moned all  his  adherents  to  meet  him 
with  their  retainers  at  Leicester,  pro- 
claimed Buckingham  a  traitor,  and 
sent  for  the  great  seal  from  London.2 
On  the  appointed  day  the  rising  took 
place.  The  marquess  of  Dorset  pro- 
claimed Henry  at  Exeter ;  the  bishop 
of  Salisbury  declared  for  him  in  Wilt- 
shire; the  gentlemen  in  Kent  met 
for  the  same  purpose  at  Maidstone ; 
those  of  Berkshire  at  Newberry ;  and 
the  duke  of  Buckingham  unfurled 
his  standard  at  Brecon.3 

Five  days  later,  Richard  joined  his 
army  at  Leicester,  where  he  issued  a 
most  singular  proclamation.  He 
begins  by  boasting  of  his  zeal  for 
morality  and  the  administration  of 


1  Cont.  Croyl.  563. 

*  Drake,   Eborac.   119.      Rym.   xii.   203. 
fiUia,  i.  IfiO. 


justice ;  then  calls  his  enemies  "  trai- 
tors, adulterers,  and  bawds;"  asserts 
that  their  object  is  not  only  the 
destruction  of  the  throne,  but  "  the 
letting  of  virtue,  and  the  damnable 
maintenance  of  vice ;"  grants  a  free 
pardon  to  all  yeomen  and  commoners 
who  have  been  deluded  by  the  false 
pretensions  of  the  rebels;  threatens 
with  the  punishment  of  treason  all 
who  shall  hereafter  lend  them  assist- 
ance ;  and  promises  rewards  for  the 
apprehension  of  Buckingham  and 
his  associates.4  But  Richard's  good 
fortune  served  him  better  than  his 
troops  or  his  proclamations.  Had 
Henry  landed,  or  had  the  duke  been 
able  to  join  the  other  insurgents,  the 
reign  of  the  usurper  would  probably 
have  been  terminated.  But  though 
Henry  had  sailed  from  St.  Malo  with 
a  fleet  of  forty  sail,  the  weather  was 
so  tempestuous  that  but  few  could 
follow  him  across  the  Channel ;  and 
when  he  reached  the  coast  of  Devon, 
the  insufficiency  of  his  force  forbade 
him  to  disembark.  Buckingham  was 
still  more  unfortunate.  From  Brecon 
he  had  marched  through  the  forest 
of  Deane  to  the  Severn;  but  the 
bridges  were  broken  down,  and  the 
river  was  so  swoln  that  the  fords 
had  become  impassable.  He  turned 
back  to  Weobley,  the  seat  of  the  lord 
Ferrers ;  but  the  Welshmen  who  had 
followed  him  disbanded ;  and  the  news 
of  their  desertion  induced  the  other 
bodies  of  insurgents  to  provide  for 
their  own  safety.  Thus  the  king  tri- 
umphed without  drawing  the  sword. 
Weobley  was  narrowly  watched  on 
the  one  side  by  Sir  Humphrey  Staf- 
ford, on  the  other  by  the  clan  of  the 
Vaughans,  who  for  their  reward  had 
received  a  promise  of  the  plunder  of 
Brecon.  Morton  effected  his  escape 
in  disguise  to  the  isle  of  Ely,  and 
thence  passed  to  the  coast  of  Flanders; 


s  Eot.  Parl.  vi.  245, 
*  Kym.  xii.  204. 


A.D.  1483.  J 


LOYALTY  OF  THE  COMMONS. 


121 


the  duke  in  a  similar  dress  reached 
the  hut  of  Banister,  one  of  his  ser- 
vants in  Shropshire,  where  he  was 
betrayed  by  the  perfidy  of  his  host. 
If  he  hoped  for  pardon  on  the  merit 
of  his  former  services,  he  had  mis- 
taken the  character  of  Eichard.  That 
prince  had  already  reached  Salisbury 
with  his  army ;  he  refused  to  see  the 
prisoner,  and  ordered  his  head  to  be 
immediately  struck  off  in  the  market- 
place. From  Salisbury  he  marched 
into  Devonshire.  The  insurgents  dis- 
persed ;  the  marquess  of  Dorset,  and 
Courtenay,  bishop  of  Exeter,  crossed 
the  Channel  to  the  coast  of  Bretagne; 
and  others  found  an  asylum  in  the 
fidelity  of  their  neighbours,  and  the 
respect  which  was  still  paid  to  the 
sanctuaries.  Of  the  prisoners,  St. 
Leger,  a  knight,  had  married  the 
duchess  of  Exeter,  the  sister  of 
.Richard.  But  it  was  in  vain  that 
the  plea  of  affinity  was  urged  in  his 
favour,  and  a  large  sum  of  money 
offered  for  his  ransom.  By  the 
king's  order  he  suffered  with  others 
at  Exeter.1 

"When  the  conqueror  had  traversed 
the  southern  counties,  and  by  repeated 
executions  punished  such  of  his  ene- 
mies as  fell  into  his  hands,  he  returned 
to  the  capital,  and  summoned  a  par- 
liament. This  assembly,  like  those 
of  the  last  reign  in  similar  circum- 
stances, proved  its  loyalty  by  its 
eagerness  to  anticipate  every  wish 
of  the  monarch.2  It  adopted  and 
confirmed  the  celebrated  petition 
presented  to  Eichard  during  his 
protectorate;  pronounced  him  "un- 
doubted king  of  this  realm  of  Eng- 
land, as  well  by  right  of  consan- 
guinity and  inheritance,  as  by  lawful 
election,  consecration,  and  corona- 
tion ;"  and  entailed  the  crown  on 
the  issue  of  his  body,  particularly 
his  son  Edward,  prince  of  Wales, 


whose  succession  the  lords  spiritual 
and  temporal  bound  themselves  to 
uphold.  Then  followed  a  bill  of 
attainder,  which,  though  a  common 
measure  in  these  turbulent  times,  is 
said  to  have  been  severe  and  compre- 
hensive beyond  all  precedent.  One 
duke,  one  marquess,  three  earls,  three 
bishops,  with  many  knights  and  gen- 
tlemen, were  deprived  of  their  estates, 
honours,  and  rights.  The  forfeitures 
were  employed  partly  to  augment  the 
revenue  of  the  crown,  partly  to  remu- 
nerate the  king's  northern  adherents, 
who  were  thus  transplanted  into  the 
southern  counties,  and  converted 
into  spies  on  the  disaffection  of  their 
neighbours.  Among  the  attainted 
was  the  countess  of  Richmond.  But 
she  was  spared  from  execution  at  the 
intercession  of  her  husband,  the  lord 
Stanley,  who  had  convinced  Eichard 
of  his  own  loyalty,  and  who,  on  his 
promise  to  watch  over  the  conduct 
of  his  consort,  was  permitted  to  retain 
the  possession  of  her  estates  during 
his  life.3 

As  the  marriage  between  Edward 
IV.  and  Elizabetu  Grey  had  now 
been  declared  null  by  the  approba- 
tion given  to  the  petition  presented 
at  Baynard's  Castle,  their  son  was 
officially  termed  "Edward  the  bastard, 
lately  called  Edward  the  Fifth ;"  his 
mother  was  designated  Elizabeth,  late 
wife  of  Sir  John  Grey,  and  the  letters 
patent  were  annulled  by  which  she 
had  been  entitled  to  her  dower  as 
queen  of  England.4  Still  the  king 
was  seriously  alarmed  at  the  idea  of 
a  marriage  between  the  young  earl  of 
Eichmond  and  the  eldest  of  her 
daughters.  At  the  last  festival  of 
Christmas,  a  meeting  had  been  held 
at  Ehedon,  in  Bretagne,  where  Henry 
solemnly  swore  to  make  her  his  queen 
as  soon  as  he  should  triumph  over 
the  usurper;  and  the  exiles,  to  the 


i  Cont.  Croyl.  568,  570. 
3  1  he  historian  attributes  the  conduct  of 
the  parliament  to  fear,  propter  ingentem  in 


constantissimos    cadentem    metum. — Cont. 


Croyl.  570. 


3  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  240—251. 


Kym.  xii.  259.     Hot.  Parl.  vi.  263. 


122 


RICHABD  III. 


[CHAP.  iv. 


number  of  five  hundred,  had  oc  that 
condition  promised  him  fealty,  and 
done  homage  to  him  as  to  their  sove- 
reign. It  was  not  that  Henry  of 
himself  could  advance  any  right  to 
the  crown.  By  the  father's  side  he 
was  descended  from  Owen  Tudor  and 
Catherine,  the  relict  of  Henry  V. ; 
by  the  mother's  from  John  Beaufort, 
earl  of  Somerset,  the  natural  son  of 
John  of  Ghent  by  Catherine  Swyn- 
ford.  Somerset,  indeed,  had  been 
legitimated :  but  the  reader  is  aware 
that  an  act  of  parliament  had  ex- 
pressly excluded  him  and  his  poste- 
rity from  the  succession  to  the  crown. 
There  were  still  in  Spain  and  Por- 
tugal princes  and  princesses  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster ;  but  they  de- 
spised or  neglected  a  disputed  title, 
and  the  partisans  of  the  family  looked 
up  to  Henry  and  his  mother  as  their 
natural  chiefs.  Under  no  circum- 
stances, much  less  under  these,  would 
the  lords  attached  to  the  house  of 
York  have  admitted  the  claim  of  the 
earl  of  Richmond.  But  convinced  of 
the  death  of  the  two  sons  of  Edward, 
they  considered  his  eldest  daughter 
as  rightful  sovereign;  and  the  mo- 
ment Henry  bound  himself  by  oath 
to  marry  that  princess,  they  swore 
fealty  to  him  as  the  future  husband 
of  her  who  was  by  succession  queen 
of  England. 

To  defeat  this  project  now  became 
the  chief  policy  of  Eichard.  That  he 
might  draw  the  late  queen  out  of 
the  sanctuary,  he  tempted  her  with 
the  most  nattering  promises,  and 
harassed  her  with  the  most  terrible 
threats.  Message  after  message  was 
interchanged;  and  at  last  a  private 
treaty  was  concluded,  in  consequence 
of  which  he  swore,  in  the  presence 
of  several  lords  and  prelates,  and  the 
mayor  and  aldermen,  that  she  and 
her  daughters  should  be  treated  by 


him  as  his  kinswomen ;  that  their 
lives  should  be  in  no  danger ;  that 
the  mother  should  possess  an  annuity 
of  seven  hundred  marks  for  life ;  and 
that  each  of  the  daughters  should 
receive  lands  to  the  value  of  two 
hundred  marks  as  a  marriage  por- 
tion, and  be  married  to  none  but 
gentlemen.1  Induced  by  these  pro- 
mises, she  repaired  with  her  family 
to  court :  both  mother  and  daughters 
were  kindly  received ;  and  marks  of 
peculiar  distinction  were  lavished 
upon  young  Elizabeth,  whom  Eichard 
had  probably  destined  to  be  wife 
of  his  son  Edward.  But  that  prince 
suddenly  expired  at  Middleham,  and 
the  king  and  his  consort  were  for  a 
time  inconsolable  on  account  of  their 
loss.2  What  Eichard's  designs  might 
now  be  with  respect  to  Elizabeth 
were  unknown ;  but  shs  was  attached 
to  the  company  of  the  queen,  and 
thus  k«it  in  real  though  Honourable 
captivity. 

At  length  the  king  had  leisure  to 
direct  his  attention  to  Bretagne,  where 
the  earl  of  Eichmorid  and  the  exiles 
were  busily  employed  in  devising 
the  means  of  expelling  him  from 
the  throne.  No  expense  was  spared 
to  procure  the  most  accurate  infor- 
mation of  their  numbers  and  pro- 
jects ;  and  the  useful  aid  of  Landois, 
the  Breton  minister,  was  purchased 
with  valuable  presents.  The  duke 
Francis  listened  by  degrees  to  the 
suggestions  of  his  favourite ;  an  armis- 
tice between  the  two  nations  pre- 
pared the  way  for  more  frequent  inter- 
course ;  the  king  raised  a  body  of  a 
thousand  archers  for  the  service  of 
his  new  friend ;  and  a  dark  plot  was 
framed  for  the  apprehension  of  Henry 
and  of  his  principal  adherents.3  They 
would  have  been  caught  in  the  toils 
of  their  wily  adversary,  had  they  not 
been  warned  of  their  danger,  and 


1  Ellis,  2  ser.  i.  149.    Buck  apud  Kennet, 
p.  528. 


2  Cont.  Crojl.  571. 

3  liym.  xii.  226,  229.     Argentrf,  xiii.  2(i. 


A.D.  1484J 


DESIRES  TO  MARRY  HIS  NIECE. 


found  a  new  and  safer  asylum  in 
the  dominions  of  Charles  VIII.,  king 
of  France,  where  they  employed  more 
than  a  year  in  making  new  prepara- 
tions for  their  intended  expedition. 

During  the  interval  Richard  put 
an  end  to  the  tedious  and  destructive 
hostilities  between  the  Scots  and  his 
subjects.  The  duke  of  Albany  and 
the  earl  Douglas  had  received  from 
him  the  same  protection  which  on 
a  former  occasion  they  had  received 
from  his  brother;  but  he  was  too 
much  occupied  with  his  own  con- 
cerns to  lend  them  effectual  aid ;  and 
their  efforts  were  confined  to  occa- 
sional inroads  by  land,  and  piratical 
depredations  by  sea.  During  this 
summer  they  had  attempted  to  sur- 
prise the  merchants  at  the  fair  of 
Lochmaben,  but  were  repulsed  with 
considerable  loss,  and  the  capture  of 
Douglas  and  several  of  his  English 
associates.  This  disgrace,  however, 
was  more  than  compensated  by  the 
success  of  the  English  cruisers  against 
the  commerce  of  Scotland ;  and  at 
the  solicitation  of  James  an  armis- 
tice for  three  years,  and  an  alliance 
by  marriage  between  the  royal  fami- 
lies of  the  two  kingdoms,  was  con- 
cluded at  Nottingham.  Eichard, 
indeed,  after  the  death  of  his  son, 
was  without  legitimate  children ; 
but  he  had  declared  John,  earl  of 
Lincoln,  and  son  of  his  sister  the 
duchess  of  Suffolk,  heir  apparent  to 
the  crown ;  and  he  now  affianced  the 
sister  of  that  young  prince,  Anne 
de  la  Pole,  to  the  eldest  son  of  the 
king  of  Scotland.  It  was  mutually 
stipulated  that  the  marriage  should 
take  place  as  soon  as  the  parties  had 
arrived  at  the  age  of  puberty.1 

At  Christmas  the  king  kept  his 
court  in  the  palace  of  Westminster. 
Whether  it  were  from  policy  or  in- 


clination, he  affected  extraordinary 
magnificence;  the  holidays  were  passed 
in  a  constant  repetition  of  feasting, 
balls,  and  amusements;  and  it  was 
remarked  with  surprise  that  in  every 
company  his  niece  Elizabeth  appeared 
in  robes  exactly  similar  to  those  worn 
by  the  queen  consort.  Before  men 
could  discover  the  cause  of  this  un- 
usual arrangement,  the  latter  sud- 
denly fell  sick ;  and  Richard,  in 
expectation  of  her  death,  offered  his 
hand  to  his  niece.  Her  mother  is 
said  not  to  have  disapproved  of  the 
unnatural  union,  but  to  have  written 
to  her  son,  the  marquess  of  Dorset, 
at  Paris,  and  to  have  ordered  him 
to  retire  from  the  councils  of  Henry. 
The  princess  herself,  in  a  letter  which 
she  wrote  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk, 
showed  how  much  she  was  dazzled 
with  the  splendours  of  royalty.  She 
solicited  the  good  offices  of  that  noble- 
man in  her  favour,  protested  that  the 
king  was  "her  joy  and  maker  in  this 
world,  and  that  she  was  his  in  heart 
and  thought,"  and  hinted  her  sur- 
prise at  the  duration  of  the  queen's 
illness,  and  her  apprehensions  "  that 
she  would  never  die.''"2  These  appre- 
hensions, however,  were  soon  quieted; 
in  less  than  a  month  the  queen  ex- 
pired ;  and  Elizabeth  was  flattered 
with  the  idea  of  mounting  the  throne, 
Richard  with  the  prospect  of  discon- 
certing by  this  marriage  the  machi- 
nations of  his  rival.  But  when  the 
king  communicated  the  plan  to  Rat- 
cliffe,  and  to  Catesby,  "  knight  and 
esquire  of  the  body,"  both  confidants 
by  whose  advice  he  was  generally 
ruled,  he  experienced  an  unexpected 
and  most  obstinate  opposition.  Their 
objection  perhaps  arose,  as  the  histo- 
rian surmises,  from  a  well-grounded 
apprehension,  that  if  Elizabeth  should 
become  queen,  she  would  revenge  on 


1  Ryra.  xii.  235—246.  Rouse  informs  us 
that  the  young  earl  of  Warwick,  the  son  of 
the  late  'duke  of  Clarence,  was  treated  at 
first  as  heir  apparent;  but  that  after  some 


time  he  was  removed,  put  into  close  cus- 
tody, and  the  young  earl  of  Lincoln  sub- 
stituted for  him  (p.  218). 
2  See  Buck,  p.  5&i. 


124 


ItlCHAED  III. 


fCHAP.  IV. 


them  the  murder  of  her  uncle  and 
brother  at  Pontefract ;  but  their  argu- 
ments, whatever  were  their  secret 
motives,  deserved  the  most  serious 
attention  of  their  master.  They  re- 
presented to  him  that  this  incestuous 
marriage  would  be  an  object  of  horror 
to  the  people,  and  would  be  condemned 
by  the  clergy;  that  suspicions  \\ere 
already  entertained  of  his  having  re- 
moved the  queen  by  poison  to  make 
room  for  the  niece;1  that  to  marry 
her  in  the  present  circumstances 
would  convert  such  suspicions  into 
a  certainty,  and  would  in  conse- 
quence deprive  him  of  his  stanchest 
adherents,  the  men  of  the  northern 
counties,  for  whose  support  he  had 
been  hitherto  indebted  to  the  respect 
which  they  bore  to  his  late  consort, 
as  daughter  of  the  great  earl  of  War- 
wick. The  king,  though  with  con- 
siderable reluctance,  yielded  to  their 
remonstrances.  In  the  great  hall  of 
the  Temple  he  assured  the  mayor, 
aldermen,  and  commoners,  that  no 
such  marriage  had  ever  been  contem- 
plated ;  and  by  a  letter  to  the  citizens 
of  York,  required  them  to  refuse 
credit  to  the  slanderous  tales  which 
had  been  circulated,  and  to  apprehend 
and  bring  before  the  council  all  per- 
sons known  to  advance  or  propagate 
reports  to  his  prejudice.2 
As  the  time  approached  in  which 


the  contest  for  the  crown  was  to  be 
decided,  the  mind  of  Richard  became 
the  prey  of  doubts  and  apprehensions. 
It  may  be  that  the  disturbed  rest,  the 
imaginary  spectres,  and  the  sudden 
terrors  described  by  Sir  Thomas 
More,  were  the  fictions  of  his  ene- 
mies;3 but,  unfurnished  as  he  was 
withmoney.andsuspicious  of  his  adhe- 
rents, lie  could  not  look  forward  to  a 
contest,  in  which  his  crown  and  life 
were  at  stake,  without  feeling  consi- 
derable alarm.  The  treasures  left  by 
his  brother,  the  moneys  arising  from 
the  late  forfeitures,  and  three  tenths 
obtained  from  the  clergy,  had  all  been 
expended.  He  dared  not  summon  a 
parliament  for  the  purpose  of  demand- 
ing a  subsidy ;  and  to  solicit  a  bene- 
volence he  had  already  pronounced 
illegal  and  unconstitutional.  Yet  his 
necessities  compelled  him  to  adopt 
the  thing,  while  he  refused  it  the 
name ;  and  though  by  extorting  dif- 
ferent sums  from  the  most  wealthy 
citizens,  he  replenished  his  coffers, 
he  forfeited  at  the  same  time  the 
small  share  which  he  retained  in  their 
affection.4  He  no  longer  knew  whom 
to  trust  or  distrust.  Daily  defections 
taught  him  to  suspect  the  fidelity  of 
the  most  attached  among  his  adhe- 
rents. Sir  Walter  Blount,  the  go- 
vernor of  Ham,  deserted  to  Henry 
with  his  prisoner,  the  old  earl  of 


1  From  the  expressions  in  Elizabeth's 
letter  mentioned  before,  there  is  reason  to 
fear  that  this  suspicion  was  too  true.  It  is 
evident  Kichard  had  not  only  promised  to 
marry  her,  but  had  told  her  that  the  queen 
would  die  in  February.  Hence  she  observes 
that  the  better  part  of  February  is  past, 
and  the  queen  still  alive. — Buck,  p.  568. 

3  See  the  whole  account  in  the  Croyland 
historian,  572.  The  letter  to  the  citizens  of 
of  York  is  in  Drake's  Eboracum  (p.  119). 
That  writer  supposes  it  to  have  been  writ- 
ten in  1484.  But  as  it  alludes  to  the  reports 
about  the  marriage,  and  observes  that  the 
king  had  already  explained  matters  to  the 
citizens  of  London,  which  the  Croyland  his- 
torian says  he  did  some  time  before  Easter, 
£  have  no  difficulty  in  fixing  it  to  the  pre- 
Bent  year. 

*  "  I  have  heard  by  credible  report  of 


such  as  were  secret  with  his  chamberers, 
that  he  never  had  quiet  in  his  mind,  never 
thought  himself  sure.  When  he  went 
abroad,  his  eyes  whirled  about,  his  body 
privily  fenced,  his  hand  ever  on  his  dagger, 
his  countenance  and  manner  like  one  always 
ready  to  strike  again.  He  took  ill  rests 
at  night,  lay  long  waking  and  musing,  sore 
wearied  with  care  and  watch,  rather  slum- 
bered than  slept,  troubled  with  fearful 
dreams,  suddenly  sometimes  started  up, 
leapt  out  of  bed,  and  run  about  the  cham- 
ber; so  was  his  restless  heart  continually 
tossed  and  tumbled  with  the  tedious  im- 
pression and  stormy  remembrance  of  this 
abominable  deed." — More,  69. 

4  As  the  king  would  not  allow  the  name 
of  benevolence  to  be  applied  to  this  extor- 
tion, the  people  gave  to  it  that  of  malevo- 
lence.—Cont.  Croyl.  572. 


A.D.  1135.J 


THE  KING'S  PROCLAMATION. 


123 


Oxford;  several  officers  of  the  gar- 
rison of  Calais,  and  the  sheriffs  of 
some  counties,  followed  their  ex- 
ample; and  numerous  emigrations 
from  the  coast  doubled  the  amount 
of  the  exiles.  But  no  one  gave  him 
more  anxiety  than  Lord  Stanley,  a 
nobleman  of  extensive  influence  in 
Cheshire  and  Lancashire.  On  the 
one  hand,  he  had  hitherto  served 
Eichard  with  unwearied  zeal ;  on  the 
other,  he  had  married  the  mother  of 
the  pretender  to  the  crown.  To 
attach  him  the  more  firmly  to  the 
royal  interests,  the  king  had  lavished 
favours  upon  him;  but  at  the  same 
time,  to  keep  him  always  under  his 
own  eye,  he  had  made  him  steward 
of  the  household.  When  at  last  Lord 
Stanley  urged  his  former  services  to 
obtain  permission  to  visit  his  estates, 
Eichard  consented  with  reluctance, 
but  retained  at  court  the  Lord 
Strange  as  an  hostage  for  the  fidelity 
of  hi* 'ither.1 

At  length  the  king  was  informed 
by  his  emissaries  that  the  earl  of 
Eichmond,  with  the  permission  of 
Charles,  had  raised  an  army  of  three 
thousand  adventurers,  most  of  them 
Normans ;  and  that  a  fleet  was  lying 
in  the  mouth  of  the  Seine  to  trans- 
port them  to  England.  He  affected 
to  receive  the  intelligence  with  joy ; 
and  immediately,  to  prepare  the 
public  for  the  event,  published  a 
long  and  artful  proclamation,  which 
stated  that  "the  king's  rebels  and 
traitors,  disabled  and  attainted  by 
authority  of  the  high  court  of  par- 
liament, of  whom  many  were  known 
for  open  murderers,  adulterers,  and 
extortioners,  had  forsaken  their  na- 
tural country,  and  put  themselves  at 
first  under  the  obedience  of  the  duke 
of  Bretagne,  to  whom  they  had  made 
promises  so  unnatural  and  abomi- 
nable that  they  had  been  refused  by 
that  prince— that  they  had  next  be- 


taken themselves  to  the  king's  an- 
cient enemy,  Charles,  calling  himsell 
king  of  France,  and  chosen  for  their 
captain  one  Henry  Tudor,  descended 
of  bastard  blood  both  by  the  father's 
and  the  mother's  side,  and  who  there- 
fore could  never  have  any  claim  to 
the  crown  of  England  but  by  con- 
quest— that  the  said  Henry  Tudor,  in 
order  that  he  might  achieve  his  false 
intent  by  the  aid  of  the  king's  ancient 
enemy  of  Prance,  had  covenanted 
with  him  to  give  up  in  perpetuity  all 
the  right  which  the  king  of  England 
had  to  the  crown  of  France,  to  Nor- 
mandy, Anjou,  Maine,  Guienne, 
Calais,  and  the  Marches,  and  to  dis- 
sever the  arms  of  France  from  the, 
arms  of  England  for  ever — that  in 
more  proof  of  his  said  purpose  of  con- 
quest, the  said  Henry  Tudor  had 
given  away  archbishoprics,  bishoprics, 
and  other  dignities  spiritual,  and  the 
duchies,  earldoms,  baronies,  and  other 
inheritances  of  knights,  esquires,  and 
gentlemen,  within  the  realm — that 
he  intended  to  change  and  subvert 
the  laws  of  the  same,  and  to  do  the 
most  cruel  murders,  slaughters,  rob- 
beries, and  disherisons,  that  were  ever 
seen  in  any  Christian  realm — where- 
fore, the  king  willed  that  all  his  sub- 
jects, like  good  and  true  Englishmen, 
should  endower  themselves  with  all 
their  power  for  the  defence  of  them, 
their  wives,  children,  goods,  and  here- 
ditaments, and  as  he,  like  a  diligent 
and  courageous  prince,  would  put  his 
most  royal  person  to  all  labour  and 
pain  necessary  in  that  behalf,  to  the 
comfort  and  surety  of  his  faithful 
subjects,  so  he  commanded  all  his  said 
subjects  to  be  ready  in  their  most  de- 
fensible array  to  do  his  highness  ser- 
vice of  war,  when  they  by  open  pro- 
clamation or  otherwise  should  be 
commanded  so  to  do,  for  the  resist- 
ance of  the  king's  said  rebels,  traitora. 
and  enemies.2 


Cont.  Croyl.  573. 

J?»nn.  ii.  318-3*6.   I  have  abridged  the 


proclamation,  but  have,  as  much  as  possible, 
retained  the  very  words,  that   the  reao«C 


12(3 


KICHAED  III. 


[CHAP.  iv. 


Having  issued  instructions  to  his 
friends  in  the  maritime  counties,  and 
established  posts  of  cavalry  on  the 
high  roads  for  the  more  speedy  trans- 
mission of  intelligence,  Eichard  sent 
for  the  great  seal,  and  fixed  his  head- 
quarters at  Nottingham.  There  he 
was  nearer  to  his  partisans  in  the 
north,  on  whose  fidelity  he  chiefly 
relied;  and  thence,  as  from  the 
centre,  he  could  watch  the  extremities 
of  the  kingdom.  On  the  first  of 
August  his  competitor  sailed  from 
Ilarfleur;  on  the  seventh  he  landed 
at  Milford  Haven,  and  directed  his 
march  through  the  northern  districts 
of  Wales,  a  tract  of  country  in  the 
interests  of  the  Stanleys.  He  met 
with  little  to  oppose  or  to  encourage 
him ;  if  the  Welch  chieftains  did  not 
impede  his  progress,  few  joined  his 
standard ;  and  when  he  took  posses- 
sion of  Shrewsbury  his  army  did  not 
exceed  four  thousand  men.  A  week 
elapsed  before  Eichard  heard  of  his 
landing;  but  orders  were  instantly 
despatched  for  all  his  subjects  to  meet 
him  at  Leicester,  with  the  most  alarm- 
ing menaces  against  the  defaulters. 
The  duke  of  Norfolk  obeyed  with  the 
men  of  the  eastern  counties,  the  earl 
of  Northumberland  with  the  northern 
levies,  the  lord  Lovel  from  Hamp- 
shire, and  Ifraokenbury  from  London ; 
but  the  man  whom  he  most  feared 
the  lord  Stanley,  replied  that  he  was 
confined  to  his  bed  by  the  sweating 
sickness.  This  feint  could  not  deceive 
the  king  ;  and  Lord  Strange,  fearing 
for  his  life,  made  an  attempt  to  escape. 
He  was  discovered,  taken,  and  in- 
duced to  confess,  that  he  himself,  bis 
uncle  Sir  William  Stanley,  chamber- 
lain of  North  Wales,  and  Sir  John 
Savage,  had  engaged  to  join  the  in- 
vaders; but  he  protested  that  his 
father  was  ignorant  of  their  intention, 


and  already  on  his  way  to  join  the 
royal  standard.  He  was  permitted 
to  write  to  Lord  Stanley,  and  to  in- 
form him  that  he  must  accelerate  hi? 
march,  if  he  wished  to  save  the  life  of 
his  son.1 

At  Leicester  the  king  found  himself 
at  the  head  of  a  numerous  and  well- 
appointed  army,  which,  had  it  been 
attached  to  its  leader,  might  have 
trampled  under  foot  the  contemptible 
force  that  followed  the  banner  of  his 
competitor.  But  Henry,  assured  by 
the  promises  of  his  secret  adherents, 
continued  to  press  forward,  as  if  he 
were  determined  to  rush  into  the 
very  jaws  of  destruction.  He  crossed 
the  Severn  at  Shrewsbury ;  at  New- 
port he  was  joined  by  the  tenantry  of 
the  Talbots;  at  Stafford  he  had  a 
private  conference  with  Sir  William 
Stanley,  and  consented,  in  order  to 
save,  if  it  were  possible,  the  life  of 
Lord  Strange,  that  the  Stanleys 
should  continue  to  wear  the  appear- 
ance of  hostility,  and  constantly  re- 
tire before  him,  as  he  advanced.  On 
the  twenty-first  of  August  Eichard 
rode  from  Leicester  with  the  crown 
on  his  head,  and  encamped  about  two 
miles  from  the  town  of  Bosworth. 
The  same  night  Henry  proceeded 
from  Tamworth  to  Atherston,  where 
he  joined  the  Stanleys,  and  was  en- 
couraged by  the  repeated  arrivals  of 
deserters  from  the  enemy.  In  the 
morning  both  armies  (that  of  Eichard 
was  double  in  number)  advanced  to 
Eedmore;  and  the  vanguards,  com- 
manded by  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and 
the  earl  of  Oxford,  engaged.  Eichard 
was  diimayed  to  see  the  Stanleys 
opposed  to  him,  the  earl  of  Northum- 
berland remaining  inactive  at  his  post, 
and  his  men  wavering  and  on  the 
point  of  flying,  or  going  over  to  his 
competitor.  Chancing  to  espy  Henry, 


may  natice  how  near  the  language  ap- 
proaches to  that  of  the  present  day.  It  is 
dated  23rd  of  June  anno  2;  which  Fenn  has 


made  1484 ;  but  as  Eichard  did  not  begin  his 
reign  till  the  26th  of  that  month,  it  should 
be  1485.  i  Cont.  Croyl.  573. 


DEATH  OP  K]  'JHARD. 


127 


ho  determined  to  win  the  day,  or 
perish  in  tlie  attempt.  Spurring  his 
horse  and  exclaiming,  "Treason,  trea- 
son, treason,"1  he  slew  with  his  own 
hand  Sir  William  Brandon,  the 
bearer  of  the  hostile  standard,  struck 
to  the  ground  Sir  John  Cheney,  and 
made  a  desperate  blow  at  his  rival, 
when  he  was  overpowered  by  numbers, 
thrown  from  his  horse,  and  immedi- 
ately slain.  Lord  Stanley  taking  up 
the  crown,  placed  it  on  the  head  of 
Henry,  and  the  conqueror  was  in- 
stantly greeted  with  the  shouts  of 
"Long  live  King  Henry."  In  the 
battle  and  pursuit  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk, the  lord  Ferrers,  some  knights, 
and  about  three  thousand  others, 
were  killed.  The  victors  lost  but 
few ;  and  to  add  to  their  joy,  Lord 
Strange,  whom  Eichard  had  ordered 
to  be  beheaded  at  the  beginning  of 
the  battle,  escaped  in  the  confusion, 
and  rejoined  his  father.  The  body  of 
the  late  king  was  stripped,  laid  across 
a  horse  behind  a  pursuivant-at-arms, 
and  conducted  to  Leicester,  where, 


after  it  had  been  exposed  for  two 
days,  it  was  buried  with  little  cere- 
mony in  the  church  of  the  Grey 
Friars.2  Henry  entered  the  town 
with  the  same  royal  state  with 
which  Eichard  had  marched  out  on 
the  preceding  day.  He  was  careful, 
however,  not  to  stain  his  triumph, 
with  blood.  Of  all  his  prisoners  three 
only  suffered  death,  the  notorious 
Catesby,  and  two  persons  of  the 
name  of  Brecher,  who  probably  had 
merited  that  distinction  by  their 
crimes.3 

Of  the  character  of  Richard  it  is 
unnecessary  to  say  much.  If  he 
was  guilty  of  the  crimes  laid  to  his 
charge,  he  was  little  better  than  a 
monster  in  human  shape.  Writers 
have  indeed  existed  in  modern  times 
who  have  attempted  to  prove  his  in- 
nocence ;  but  their  arguments  are 
rather  ingenious  than  conclusive, 
and  dwindle  into  groundless  con- 
jectures when  confronted  with  the 
evidence  which  may  be  arrayed 
against  them.4 


1  Eoss,  218. 

2  Ten  years  later,  Henry  caused  a  tomb 
to  be  erected  over  him.    The  cost  was  only 
10*.  Is.— Excerp.  Hist.  105.    It  was  defaced 


at  the  dissolution  of  the  convent.— Sandford, 
432. 

a  Cont.Croyl.573— 575.  Eoss.218.  Fab.520. 

*  See  Note  (K)  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HENRY  VII. 


CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


~Emp.  of  Germ. 
Frederic  III.   ...1493 
Maximilian. 


K.  of  Scotland. 
Jarues  III 1437 


James  IV. 


IL.  of  France. 
Charles  VIII.  ...1498 


Louis  XII. 
Popes. 


Sov.  of  Si.a:fi 

Isabella 1504 

Ferdinand. 


Innocent  VIII.,  1492.        Alexander  VI.,  1503.        Pius  III.,  1503.        Julius  II. 


PROCEEDINGS      IN      PARLIAMENT  —  THE      KING'S      MARRIAGE  —  INSURRECTION      IN 

FAVOUR    OF    A     PRETENDED    EARL    OF    WARWICK CORONATION    OF    THE    QUEEN 

WAR  IN  BRETAGNE  — IMPOSTURE  OF  PERKIN  WARBECK — HE  IS  EXECUTED — ALSO 
THE  BARL  OF  WARWICK — TREATIES  WITH  FRANCE— WITH  SCOTLAND — WITH 
SPAIN — MARRIAGE  AND  DEATH  OF  PRINCE  ARTHUR — HENRY58  KAPACITT. — HIS 
ILLNESS  AND  DEATH — HIS  CHARACTER. 

THE  long  quarrel  between  the  two 
nouses  of  York  and  Lancaster  had 
deluged  England  with  blood;  by  a 
fortunate  concurrence  of  circum- 
stances, it  was  given  to  Henry  of 
Richmond,  an  exile  and  an  adven- 
turer, without  means  and  without 
title,  to  unite  the  interests  of  the 
"  two  roses,"  and  to  bequeath  to  pos- 
terity the  benefit  of  an  undisputed 
succession.  From  the  field  of  Bos- 
worth  he  proceeded  to  Leicester. 
Victory  had  placed  the  crown  on 
his  temples ;  and  the  absence  of  a 
rival  secured  to  him  the  present 
possession  of  the  sovereignty.  But 
a  perplexing  question  occurred:  on 
what  title  was  he  to  ground  his  claim? 
On  that  of  hereditary  descent  ?  The. 
right  of  hereditary  descent,  even  sup- 
posing  it  to  be  in  the  family  of  Lan- 
caster, and  not  of  York,  could  not 


be  propagated  through  an  illegitimate 
branch,  which  to  prevent  dispute, 
had  been  originally  cut  off  from  the 
succession  by  an  act  of  parliament. 
Should  he  then  depend  on  his  stipu- 
lated marriage  with  the  princess 
Elizabeth?  But  his  pride  disdained 
to  owe  the  sceptre  to  a  wife,  the 
representative  of  a  rival  and  hated 
family.  That  would  be  to  justify  the 
dethronement  of  Henry  VI.,  to  ac- 
knowledge himself  a  king  only  by 
courtesy,  and  to  exclude  his  issue 
by  any  succeeding  marriage  from  all 
claim  to  the  throne.  There  remained 
the  right  of  conquest ;  but,  though  he 
might  appeal  to  his  late  victory  as  an 
argument  that  Heaven  approved  of 
his  pretensions,1  he  dared  not  men- 
tion the  name  of  conquest,  or  he 
would  have  united  his  friends  with 
his  foes  in  a  common  league  against 


1  It  was  the  common  persuasion  at  the 
time,  that,  as  in  private  duels,  so  in  battles, 
lie  event  showed  the  right  of  the  victorious 
jbrty.  Henry  alluded  to  it  in  parliament. 
—Rot.  Parl.  vi.  288.  And  the  same  doctrine 
had  been  openly  maintained  by  Edward  IV. 


"  In  division  and  contraversie  moved  be- 
twyxt  princes  uppon  the  high  soveraigne 
power  roiell,  more  evident  prove  or  decla- 
tion  of  trouth,  right  and  Qodds  will  may  not 
be  had  than  by  the  means  of  reason,  aucto- 
rite,  and  victorie  in  batailles."— Hvm.xi.710. 


A.P.  1-185.] 


CORONATION  OF  HENRY. 


him.1  The  question  became  the  sub- 
ject of  long  and  anxious  deliberation ; 
and  it  was  at  last  resolved  to  folio  w 
a  line  of  proceeding,  which,  while  it 
settled  the  crown  on  the  king  and  his 
heirs  general,  should  not  bring  either 
his  right,  or  that  of  the  princess,  into 
discussion.2 

The  reader  has  seen  that  Richard 
before  his  fall  had  named  his  nephew, 
John  de  la  Pole,  earl  of  Lincoln,  to 
be  his  successor.  Him  and  his  pre- 
tensions Henry  treated  with  con- 
tempt ;  but  there  was  another  prince, 
Edward  Plantagenet,  son  of  the  late 
duke  of  Clarence,  whom  he  viewed 
with  peculiar  jealousy.  After  the  exe- 
cution of  Clarence,  Edward  IV.  had 
sent  for  the  child  to  court,  and  had 
created  him  earl  of  Warwick,  the 
title  borne  by  his  grandfather.  Even 
Richard,  when  his  own  son  was  dead, 
had  at  first  assigned  to  him  the 
honours  of  the  heir-apparent ;  but 
afterwards,  fearing  that  he  might 
become  a  dangerous  competitor,  had 
confined  him  in  the  castle  of  Sheriff- 
Hutton  in  Yorkshire.  The  first  act 
of  the  new  king  at  Leicester  was  to 
transfer  the  young  prince,  who  had 
only  reached  his  fifteenth  year,  from 
his  prison  in  the  north  to  a  place 
of  greater  security,  the  Tower.  The 
public  commiserated  the  lot  of  the 
innocent  victim,  who  thus,  to  satisfy 
the  ambition  of  others,  was  con- 
demned to  perpetual  imprisonment 
from  his  childhood;  and  the  spot 
chosen  for  his  confinement,  a  spot 
so  lately  stained  with  the  blood  of 
princes,  was  considered  an  omen  of 
bis  subsequent  destiny.  The  princess 


Elizabeth  had  been  his  fellow-captive 
at  Sheriff-Hutton.  Richard  had  sent 
her  there  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the 
invasion  ;  Henry  ordered  her  to  be 
conducted  by  several  noblemen  to  the 
house  of  her  mother  in  London.3 

The  fall  of  the  usurper  excited 
little  regret.  No  man  could  pity  his 
death,  who  had  pitied  the  fate  of 
his  unoffending  nephews.  When  the 
conqueror  entered  the  capital,  he  was 
received  with  unequivocal  demon- 
strations of  joy.  The  mayor  and 
principal  citizens  met  him  at  Horn- 
sey  Park,  and  were  permitted  to  kiss 
his  hand.  As  he  passed  through  the 
streets  in  a  close  carriage,  the  crowd 
obstructed  his  way,  that  they  might 
behold  and  greet  the  deliverer  of  his 
country.4  Before  him  were  borne  the 
ensigns  of  his  triumph,  the  three 
standards  which  had  led  his  small 
army  to  victory,  and  these  he  de- 
voutly offered  on  the  high  altar  of 
St.  Paul's.5  But  his  coronation  was 
delayed,  and  the  joy  of  the  public 
was  damped,  by  the  sudden  spread 
of  a  disease,  which  acquired  from  its 
predominant  symptoms  the  appella- 
tion of  the  sweating  sickness.  It 
generally  extinguished  life  within 
the  course  of  twenty-four  hours ; 
and  some  idea  may  be  formed  of  its 
ravages,  when  it  is  known  that  within 
eight  days  it  proved  fatal  to  two 
successive  lord  mayors,  and  six  of 
the  aldermen  of  London.  At  the 
end  of  the  month,  whether  it  were 
owing  to  the  greater  experience  of 
the  physicians,  or  the  coldness  of  the 
season,  its  violence  began  to  abate,6 
and  the  new  king  received  the  rite  of 


1  Because  it  was  taught  that  a  conqueror 
might  dispossess  all  men  of  their  lands,  since 
they  held  them  of  the  prince  who  had  been 
conquered.  2  Bacon,  2 — 4. 

3  Bacon,  1.    Polyd.  558. 

*  Andre",  who  was  present,  and  recited 
verses  in  his  honour. — Domit.  A.  xviii. 

5  These  standards  were  an   "  ymage  of 
Fainte  George,  a  red  firye  drag'on  and  a 
done  kowe."— Hall,  i. 
4 


6  After  the  loss  of  many  lives,  it  waa  dis- 
covered, that  if  the  patient  lay  still  for 
twenty-four  hours,  and  carefully  abstained 
from  whatever  might  add  to  the  heat,  or 
induce  cold,  he  generally  recovered.  By 
this  method  the  mortality  was  much  dimi- 
nished, when  the  same  disease  re-appeared 
in  England,  though  it  still  proved  fatal  to 
thousands  in  Flanders  and  Germany. — HalL 
3,4.  Bacon,  6.  Polyd.  661. 


130 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP.  y. 


coronation  from  the  hands  of  the  car- 
dinal archbishop  of  Canterbury.  On 
that  occasion  twelve  knights  bannerets 
were  created,  and  the  king's  uncle,  the 
earl  of  Pembroke,  was  raised  to  the 
dignity  of  duke  of  Bedford,  the  lord 
Stanley  to  that  of  earl  of  Derby,  and 
Sir  Edward  Courtenay  to  that  of  earl 
of  Devon.1  At  the  same  time  he 
appointed  a  body  of  select  archers, 
amounting  to  fifty  men,  to  attend 
on  him,  under  the  appellation  of 
yeomen  of  the  guard.  The  institu- 
tion excited  surprise ;  but  Henry 
justified  it  on  the  ground  that  by 
foreign  princes  a  guard  was  con- 
sidered a  necessary  appendage  to  the 
regal  dignity.2 

Soon  after  the  coronation,  the  king 
met  his  parliament;  and  when  the 
commons  presented  to  him  their 
speaker,  was  careful  to  inform  them, 
that  "  he  had  come  to  the  throne  by 
just  title  of  inheritance,  and  by  the 
sure  judgment  of  God,  who  had  given 
him  the  victory  over  his  enemy  in  the 
field:"  but,  lesfc  they  should  be  alarmed 
by  the  last  words,  he  added  that  every 
man  should  continue  "to  enjoy  his 
rights  and  hereditaments,  with  the 
exception  of  such  persons  as  in  the 
present  parliament  should  be  pun- 
ished for  their  offences  against  his 
royal  majesty."3  When  the  commons 
returned  to  their  own  house,  an  un- 
expected dilliculty  arose.  A  large 
proportion  of  the  members  had  been 
outlawed  by  the  last  monarch.  Could 
they  sit  there  in  quality  of  lawgivers? 
Even  the  king,  who  had  summoned 
them  together,  had  been  attainted. 
"Was  that  attainder  to  continue 
unrepealed  ?  Henry  was  displeased 


with  the  boldness  of  these  questions; 
but  dissembling  his  resentment,  he 
consulted  the  judges,  who  replied 
that  as  far  as  regarded  the  king 
himself,  the  crown  had  cleared  away 
all  legal  corruption  of  blood  ;  but  that 
the  members  attainted  by  course  01 
law  must  forbear  to  sit  till  their 
attainder  had  been  reversed  by  equal 
authority.  The  advice  was  followed ; 
all  who  had  been  disinherited  by 
Richard  were  by  one  act  restored  to 
their  former  i  ights ;  and  separate  bills 
were  passed  in  favour  of  the  king's 
mother,  the  dukes  of  Bedford,  Buck- 
ingham, and  Somerset,  the  marquess 
of  Dorset,  the  earl  of  Oxford,  the  lords 
Beaumont,  Wells,  Clifford,  Hunger- 
ford,  Roos,  and  several  others.  The 
whole  number  of  those  who  profited  by 
this  measure  amounted  to  one  hundred 
and  seven.4  The  transactions  which 
followed  were  important  and  interest- 
ing. 1.  In  the  settlement  of  the  crown 
by  legislative  enactment,  Henry  pro- 
ceeded with  cautious  and  measured 
steps.  Jealous  as  he  was  of  the  pre- 
tended right  of  the  house  of  Lancas- 
ter, he  was  equally  sensible  that  the 
claim  of  the  princess  Elizabeth  would 
prove  the  firmest  supportof  his  throne. 
Hence  he  watched  all  the  proceedings 
with  the  most  scrupulous  solicitude. 
To  weaken  her  claim  would  be  to 
undermine  his  own  interest ;  to  con- 
firm it  would  encourage  a  suspicion 
that  he  was  conscious  of  a  defect  in 
his  own  title.  He  therefore  refused 
both  to  revive  the  act  of  Henry  IV., 
which  established  the  succession  in 
the  line  of  John  of  Ghent,  and  to 
repeal  that  of  Edward  IV.,  which 
established  it  in  the  line  of  Lionel 


1  Cont.  Croyl.  557.  Bacon,  6.  Hall,  3. 
Mr  Jerthni  has  published  in  the  Rutland 
Papers  (1—  24),  "The  Device  for  the  Coro- 
nation of  Henry  VII."  It  hears  proof  of 
Ji  ir  been  written  but  a  day  or  two  before 
t  ceremony  took  place,  and  yet  very 
strangely  mixes  up  with  it  directions  for  the 
coronation  of  the  queen,  as  well  as  of  the 
Sting.  It  appears  to  me  that  the  writer 


copied  some  more  ancient  ceremonial,  pro- 
bably that  of  the  coronation  of  Richard  III. 
and  his  consort.  He  could  not  have  sup- 
posed that  Klizaheth  of  York  would  be 
crowned  with  Henry,  before  she  wns  even 
married  to  him.  2  Hall,  3. 

3  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  268. 

*  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  273.  278,  280—287.  Year- 
book,  Term  Mich.  1  Henry  VII.  5.  Bacon,  S, 


A.D.  1485.] 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  CROWN. 


131 


duke  of  Clarence.  In  his  own  favour 
lie  commanded  that  all  records,  con- 
taining any  mention  of  his  attainder, 
should  be  cancelled  and  taken  off 
the  file ;'  in  favour  of  his  Lancastrian 
predecessors,  he  annulled  the  act  of 
Edward  IV.,  which  had  pronounced 
Henry  IV.  and  Henry  V.  usurpers, 
Henry  VI.  an  usurper  and  traitor, 
Margaret  and  Edward,  the  wife  and 
son  of  that  monarch,  traitors,  and  all 
the  heirs  of  the  body  of  Henry  of 
Derby  incapable  of  holding  or  in- 
heriting any  estate,  dignity,  pre- 
eminence, hereditament,  or  posses- 
sion within  the  realm  ;2  and  in  favour 
of  Elizabeth  he  repealed  the  act  of 
the  1st  of  Richard  III.,  by  which 
that  princess  had  been  pronounced 
a  bastard,  in  common  with  the  rest 
of  her  father's  children  by  Elizabeth 
Grey.  Out  of  respect  for  her  who 
was  to  be  queen,  neither  the  title  nor 
the  body  of  the  act  was  read  in  either 
house.  By  advice  of  the  judges  it 
was  merely  designated  by  the  first 
words ;  the  original  was  then  ordered 
to  be  burnt ;  and  all  persons  possessed 
of  copies  were  commanded  to  deliver 
them  to  the  chancellor  before  Easter, 
under  the  penalty  of  fine  and  impri- 
sonment.3 In  the  act  of  settlement 
itself  no  mention  was  made  of 
Elizabeth  or  her  heirs ;  even  Henry's 
own  claim,  which  he  so  ostentatiously 


brought  forward  in  his  speech  to  the 
commons,  "of  his  just  right  of  inhe- 
ritance, and  the  sure  judgment  of 
God,"  was  studiously  omitted;  and 
it  was  merely  enacted,  that  "  the 
inheritance  of  the  crown  should  be, 
rest,  remain,  and  abide  in  the  most 
royal  person  of  the  then  sovereign 
lord,  King  Henry  VII.,  and  the  heirs 
of  his  body  lawfully  coming,  per- 
petually with  the  grace  of  God  so  to 
endure,  and  in  none  other."4  2.  But 
this  cautious  policy,  and  in  particu- 
lar this  silence  with  respect  to  the 
princess,  seems  to  have  alarmed  not 
only  the  partisans  of  the  house  of 
York,  but  even  Henry's  own  friends, 
who  had  trusted  that  under  the  union 
of  the  red  and  white  roses  domestic 
peace  would  succeed  to  war  and 
dissension.  When  the  commons 
presented  to  the  king  the  usual 
grant  of  tonnage  and  poundage  for 
life,  they  coupled  with  it  a  petition, 
that  he  would  be  pleased  to  "take 
to  wife  and  consort  the  princess  Eliza- 
beth, which  marriage  they  hoped  God 
would  bless  with  a  progeny  of  the 
race  of  kings;"*  the  lords  spiritual 
and  temporal,  rising  from  their  seats, 
and  bowing  to  the  throne,  signified 
their  concurrence ;  and  Henry  graci- 
ously answered  that  he  was  willing  to 
comply  with  their  request.6  3.  At  the 
very  commencement  of  the  session  the 


i  Bacon,  9. 

a  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  288.  An  act  was  also 
passed  restoring  Elizabeth,  the  widow  of 
Edward  IV.,  to  the  same  title  and  dignity 
as  she  would  have  had  if  no  act  had  passed 
against  her  under  Richard  III.,  and  ren- 
dering her  able  to  plead,  and  be  impleaded, 
and  to  receive  and  grant  lands  and  chattels. 
But  it  does  not  appear  that  her  dower  was 
restored.— Ibid. 

3  Ibid.  289.  Year-book,  Term  Hil.  1 
Henry  VII.  5.  Stillington,  bishop  of  Bath, 
who  had  composed  the  petition  and  act  now 
repealed,  had  been  apprehended  by  order 
of  the  king  immediately  after  the  battle  of 
Bosworth.  We  find  him  soon  afterwards  a 
prisoner  at  York,  "  sore  erased  by  reason 
of  his  trouble  and  carrying."  —  Drake's 
Eborac.  123.  He  however  made  his  peace 
with  Henry,  was  not  included  in  the  act  of 


attainder,  and  obtained  a  full  pardon .  On 
this  account  Henry  opposed  a  motion  to 
call  him  before  the  house  of  lords  for  his 
conduct  in  composing  the  petition  and  act 
of  bastardy  of  Edward's  children. — Year- 
book, ibid. 

*  Hot.  Parl.  vi.  270.  While  this  bill  was 
before  the  lords,  the  chancellor  assembled 
all  the  judges,  and  required  their  opinion, 
whether  such  an  act,  if  it  were  passed, 
would  have  the  effect  "  of  resuming  all  the 
franchises  and  liberties  of  all  manner  of 
persons."  It  seems  to  have  been  appre- 
hended that  the  new  settlement  might  have 
had  the  same  effect  as  the  acquisition  of  the 
crown  by  conquest.  The  judges  replied  in 
the  negative.  —  Year-book,  Term  Hil.  1 
Henry  VII.  25. 

5  De  stirpe  regum.— Rot.  Parl.  yi.  278, 
By  this  unusual  expression  I  conceive  wa* 
meant  the  kings  of  each  line.  6  Ibid, 

K  2 


132 


HENttY  VII. 


[ciiAr.  v, 


king  had  alluded  to  "  punishment 
of  those  who  had  offended  his  royal 
majesty."  The  expression  was  noticed; 
how,  it  was  asked,  could  the  late 
monarch  and  his  supporters  have 
offended  the  majesty  of  the  earl  of 
Richmond,  at  the  time  when  he  had 
never  publicly  advanced  any  claim  to 
the  throne  ?  The  case  differed  from 
the  precedents  of  the  past  reigns.  If 
Henry  VI.  and  his  friends  had  been 
pronounced  traitors  by  Edward,  and 
Edward  and  his  adherents  by  Henry, 
on  each  occasion  the  supposed  offence 
had  been  committed  against  a  king, 
whose  claim  to  the  crown  had  been 
previously  admitted  by  parliament.1 
But  the  treasury  was  exhausted  ; 
Henry  wanted  the  means  to  defray 
his  expenses,  and  to  reward  his  fol- 
lowers ;  and  in  defiance  of  the  mur- 
murs of  the  people,  E-ichard  III.,  the 
duke  of  Norfolk,  the  earl  of  Surrey, 
the  lords  Lovell,  Zouch,  and  Ferrers, 
with  several  knights  and  gentlemen, 
amounting  in  all  to  thirty  individuals, 
were  included  in  an  act  of  attainder.2 
4.  The  act  of  resumption  which  fol- 
lowed was  less  invidious,  and  equally 
politic.  Treading  in  the  footsteps  of 
former  monarchs,  the  king  revoked 
all  grants  made  by  the  crown  since 
the  31th  of  Henry  VI.,  and  as  the 
grantees  were  .chiefly  the  partisans 
of  the  house  of  York,  they  were  all 
placed  at  the  mercy  of  the  king,  who, 
according  to  his  judgment  or  caprice, 
had  it  in  his  power  to  take  from  them, 
or  to  confirm  to  them,  the  possession 
of  their  property.3  5.  Before  he  dis- 
solved the  parliament,  he  granted  a 
general  pardon  to  the  adherents  of 


1  Cont.  Croyl.  681. 

2  Rot.Parl.vi.275—  278.  In  the  act  Richard 
is  accused  of  "  unnaturall,  mischievous,  and 
grete   perjuries,  treasons,   homicides,   and 
imirdres  in  shedding  of  infants  blood."  Is  not 
this  an  allusion  to  the  death  of  his  nephews  ? 
I  know  of  no  other  infants  whom  he  is  said 
to  have  murdered. 

*  Xot.  P«rl.  Ti.  336-384.          *  Bacon,  9. 


llichard ;  but  that  he  might  monopo- 
lise the  whole  merit  of  the  measure,, 
he  would  not  allow  it  to  originate  at 
the  intercession,  or  to  be  issued  with, 
the  concurrence  of  the  two  houses.4 
6.  During  the  recess  after  Christmas 
lie  married  Elizabeth.5  It  was  be- 
lieved that  the  delay  arose  from  a 
desire  to  prevent  her  name  from 
being  inserted  in  the  act  of  settle- 
ment. When  that  point  had  been 
obtained  he  hastened  to  gratify  the 
wishes  of  his  people  and  parliament. 
If  the  ambition  of  the  princess  was 
flattered  by  this  union,  we  are  told 
(on  what  authority  I  know  not)  that 
she  had  little  reason  to  congratulate 
herself  on  the  score  of  domestic  hap- 
piness ;  that  Henry  treated  her  with 
harshness  and  with  neglect ;  and  that 
in  his  estimation  neither  the  beauty 
of  her  person,  nor  the  sweetness  of 
her  disposition,  could  atone  for  the 
deadly  crime  of  being  a  descendant  of 
the  house  of  York.6 

As  the  king  and  queen  were  rela- 
tives, a  dispensation  had  been  granted 
previously  to  the  marriage  by  the 
bishop  of  Irnola,  the  legate  of  Inno- 
cent VIII.  But  Henry  applied  for 
another  to  the  pontiff  himself,  avow- 
edly for  the  purpose  of  removing 
every  doubt  respecting  the  validity  of 
the  marriage,  but  in  reality  that  by 
introducing  into  it  the  meaning  which 
he  affixed  to  the  act  of  settlement, 
that  meaning  might  have  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  papal  authority.  Inno- 
cent in  his  rescript  informs  us  that,, 
according  to  the  representation  made 
to  him  in  the  name  of  the  king,  the 
crown  of  England  belonged  to  Henry 


5  Cont.  Croyl.  581.    Andre"  tells  us  that 
Edward  IV.  had  before  offered  Elizabeth  ta 
Henry  during  his   exile  in   Bretagne,  but 
that  it  was  considered  an  artifice  to  entice 
him  into  England. — Domit.  A.  xviii. 

6  This  is  asserted   by  all  our  historians. 
The  reader  will  meet  hereafter  with  some 
reasons  to  induce  a  belief,  that  the  state- 
ment, if  it  be  true,  must  at  least  be  confined 
to  the  first  years  of  the  king's  reign. 


.  i486.]        INSURRECTION  OF  LORD  LOVEL. 


133 


by  right  of  war,  by  notorious  and  in- 
disputable hereditary  succession,  by 
the  wish  and  election  of  all  the  pre- 
lates, nobles,  and  commons  of  the 
realm,  and  by  the  act  of  the  three 
estates  in  parliament  assembled ;  but 
that  nevertheless,  to  put  an  end  to 
the  bloody  wars  caused  by  the  rival 
claims  of  the  house  of  York,  and  at 
the  urgent  request  of  the  three 
estates,  the  king  had  consented  to 
marry  the  princess  Elizabeth,  the 
•eldest  daughter  and  true  heir  of  Ed- 
ward IV.  of  immortal  memory.1  The 
pontiff,  therefore,  at  the  prayer  of  the 
king,  and  to  preserve  the  tranquillity 
of  the  realm,  confirms  the  dispensa- 
tion which  has  already  been  granted, 
tmd  the  act  of  settlement  passed  by  the 
parliament;  declares  the  meaning  of 
that  act  to  be,  that  if  the  queen  should 
die  without  issue  before  the  king,  or 
if  her  issue  should  not  survive  their 
father,  the  crown  should  in  that  case 
devolve  to  Henry's  other  children,  if 
he  should  have  any  other  by  a  sub- 
sequent marriage,  and  concludes  by 
excommunicating  all  those  who  may 
hereafter  attempt  to  disturb  him  or 
his  posterity  in  the  possession  of  their 
rights.2  The  existence  of  this  extra- 
ordinary instrument  betrays  the  king's 
uneasiness  with  respect  to  the  insuf- 
ficiency of  his  own  claim. 

After  his  marriage  and  the  disso- 
lution of  the  parliament,  the  new 
monarch,  in  imitation  of  his  prede- 
cessors, resolved  to  signalise  the  com- 
mencement of  his  reign  by  a  progress 
"through  the  kingdom.  The  natives 
of  the  northern  counties  had  been 
much  devoted  to  Richard;  Henry 
hoped  by  spending  the  summer  among 


hem  to  attach  them  to  his  interests. 
Ele  was  keeping  the  festival  of  Easter 
at  Lincoln,  when  he  heard  that 
Lord  Lovel,  formerly  chamberlain 
;o  Richard,  with  Humphrey  and 
Thomas  Stafford,  had  suddenly  left 
the  sanctuary  at  Colchester;  but 
whither  they  were  fled,  or  what 
might  be  their  object,  remained  a 
profound  secret.  Despising  the  in- 
formation,  he  left  Lincoln  for  Not- 
tingham, with  a  numerous  and 
splendid  retinue;  from  Nottingham, 
where  he  received  an  embassy  from 
the  king  of  Scots,  he  continued  his 
journey ;  but  was  stopped  at  Ponte- 
fract  by  the  intelligence  that  Lord 
Lovel  had  passed  him  on  the  road, 
had  raised  a  force  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Rippon  and  Middleham,  and 
was  preparing  to  surprise  him  at  his 
entry  into  York.  But  Henry's  court 
was  now  attended  by  most  of  the 
southern  and  northern  nobility ;  and 
their  followers  formed  a  pretty  nu- 
merous army.  The  duke  of  Bedford 
led  the  royalists ;  by  his  order  an 
offer  of  pardon  was  made  to  all  who 
should  return  to  their  duty ;  and  tho 
insurgent  force  immediately  dispersed. 
A  few  were  taken  and  executed  by 
the  earl  of  Northumberland  ;  Lovel 
himself  escaped  to  his  friend  Sir 
Thomas  Broughton,  in  Lancashire, 
and  thence  to  the  court  of  Margaret, 
dowager  duchess  of  Burgundy.3  At 
the  same  time  the  Staffords  had  pre- 
pared to  take  possession  of  the  city 
of  Worcester ;  but  the  dispersion  of 
the  Yorkshire  insurgents  proved  tho 
hopelessness  of  the  attempt ;  and  the 
two  brothers  fled  for  sanctuary  to 
the  church  of  Colnham,  an  obscure 


1  Immortalis  famse  regis  Edvardi  prsefat 
primogenitam  et  veram  haeredem. — Rym 
xii.  297.  Carte  by  some  mistake  has  trans- 
Jated  these  words  "  the  true  heiress  of  the 
kingdom"  (ii.  825).  The  reader  may  notice 
the  expression  vera  haeres,  and  in  another 
instrument  indubitata  hacres. —  Rym.  xii. 
294.  If  the  pontiff  believed  Elizabeth  to  be 
the  true  and  undoubted  heir  to  her  father, 


he  must  also  have  been  informed  that  her 
brothers  had  perished.  2  Rym.  ibid. 

3  Hall,  3,  Bacon,  11,  and  others  tell  u» 
thatLovel's  attempt  happened  after  Henry'* 
arrival  at  York,  and  was  put  down  by  the 
duke  of  Bedford.  I  have  followed  th* 
journal  of  one  of  the  heralds  who  acccm 
panied  the  court. — Lei.  Cell.  iv.  ISO. 


L34 


HENftY  VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


village  near  Abingdon.  Humphrey 
Staflbrd  was  taken  thence  by  force ; 
was  condemned  by  the  judges  in  vir- 
tue of  the  act  of  attainder  formerly 
passed  against  him,  and  suffered  at 
Tyburn  the  death  of  a  traitor.  It  is 
said  that  the  younger  brother  ob- 
tained a  pardon,  on  the  plea  that 
he  had  acted  under  the  control  of 
the  elder.1 

The  king  made  his  entry  into  York 
with  royal  magnificence.  Three  miles 
from  the^ciiy_  he  was  met  by  the 
aldermen  on  horseback; 
at  the  gate  he  was  received  with  a 
procession  of  the  clergy,  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  populace,  and  the  exhi- 
bition of  pageants.*  He  spent  three 
weeks  in  that  city,  dispensing  favours, 
conferring  honours,  and  redressing 
grievances;  a  conduct,  the  policy  of 
which  was  proved  by  the  loyalty  of 
the  country  during  the  invasion  of 
the  following  year.3  Thence  he  re- 
turned through  Worcester,  Hereford, 
Gloucester,  and  Bristol,  to  London,  to 
receive  a  numerous  and  splendid  em- 
bassy sent  by  James,  king. of  Scotland. 
During  his  progress  through  each 
county,  he  was  accompanied  by  the 
sheriffs,  and  the  resident  nobility  and 
gentry ;  on  all  Sundays  and  festivals 
he  attended  divine  service  in  public ; 
and  on  such  occasions  he  heard  a 
sermon  from  one  of  the  bishops,  who 
was  ordered  to  read  and  explain  to 
the  audience  the  papal  bull  confirma- 
tory of  the  king's  marriage  and  title. 
He  left  the  citizens  of  Worcester 
with  evident  marks  of  displeasure; 


:>ut  by  his  condescension  attached  to 
limself  those  of  Bristol,  whom  he 
consulted  on  the  causes  of  the  decay 
of  their  trade,  and  at  the  same  time 
encouraged  by  his  promise  to  restore 
lieir  city  to  its  former  prosperity.4 

To  a  prince  in  Henry's  situation  it 
was  of  the  highest  importance  to  live 
on  terms  of  amity  with  his  neigh- 
bours. Among  these  the  most  to  bo 
eared  was  James,  king  of  Scotland, 
from  his  proximity,  from  the  ancient 
enmity  between  the  two  nations,  and 
from  that  attachment  to  the  house  of 
York,  which  still  lurked  among  the 
nhabitants  of  the  northern  counties. 
Fortunately  James  had  long  che- 
rished a  strong  partiality  for  the 
English ;  a  partiality  so  marked,  that 
it  formed  the  principal  of  the  charges 
alleged  against  him  by  the  rebels,  who 
afterwards  deprived  him  of  life.  He 
had  sent  a  deputation  to  assist  at  the 
coronation  of  Henry;  other  envoys 
had  met  the  king  at  Nottingham; 
and  now  a  most  honourable  embassy 
awaited  his  arrival  in  London.  The 
negotiation  lasted  almost  a  month. 
As  the  former  truce  between  the  two 
crowns  was  supposed  to  have  expired 
at  the  death  of  Kichard,  both  kings 
readily  consented  to  its  renewal.  But 
the  turbulence  and  discontent  of  the 
Scottish  nobility  compelled  James  to 
limit  its  duration  to  three  years ;  and 
Henry  could  only  obtain  a  promise 
that  it  should  be  continued  till  the 
death  of  one  of  the  two  monarchs, 
and  that  a  matrimonial  alliance 
should  be  contracted  between  the 


1  The  prisoner  had  been  brought  to  Wor- 
cester to  suffer  there  (May  20),  but  the 
abbot  of  Abingdon  arrived  on  the  *samo 
day,  and  required  that  he  should  be  re- 
placed in  the  sanctuary.  This  savid  his 
life  for  the  time.  He  was  sent  tp  the 
Tower,  and  the  judges  were  consulted  by 
king,  whether  Colnham  had  the  privtlf  ge  of 
a  sanctuary.  They  replied  it  was  harl,  and 
contrary  to  order,  that  they  shouklgive 
their  opinions  beforehand  on  a  mattir  on 
•which  they  would  have  to  decide  judicially 
Henry  assented  with  reluctance  ;  the  ppiut 
vas  argued  before  all  the  judges;  andvthe 


claim  of  sanctuary  was  rejected. — Year- 
book, Term  Pas.  1  Henry  VII.  ] 5  Term; 
Trin.  1. 

2  The  people  cried,  "  Xing  Henry,  King 
Henry,  our  Lord  preserve  that  sweet  and 
well-savoured  face."— Lei.  Coll.  iv.  187. 
Ibid.  183. 

»  He  diminished  the  yearly  rent  of  1601. 
paid  by  the  citizens  of  York  to  the  crown 
to  the  small  sum  of  181.  5s.— Hot.  Parl. 
vi.  390. 

4  See  the  sequel  of  the  heralds'  journal.— 
Rot.  Parl.  vi.  390. 


A.D.  1-186.  J 


BIRTH  OF  PRINCE  ARTHUR. 


royal  families  of  England  and  Scot- 
land.1 

It  might  have  been  expected  that 
the  king  would  have  taken  his  queen 
with  him  during  his  progress,  to  gra- 
tify the  partisans  of  the  house  of 
York ;  it  was  supposed  that  he  refused 
through  his  jealousy  of  her  influence, 
and  his  unwillingness  to  seem  indebted 
to  her  for  his  crown.  She  kept  her 
court  at  Winchester  with  her  mother 
and  sisters,  and  the  countess  of  Rich- 
mond, her  mother-in-law.  As  she 
advanced  in  her  pregnancy,  the  king 
removed  from  London  to  hunt  in  the 
New  Forest ;  and  in  her  eighth  month 
she  was  safely  delivered  of  a  son,  whose 
birth  gave  equal  joy  to  the  king  and 
the  nation.  He  was  christened  with 
extraordinary  parade  in  the  cathedral ; 
and  at  the  font  received  the  name  of 
Arthur,  in  memory  of  the  celebrated 
king  of  the  Britons,  from  whom 
Henry  wished  it  to  be  thought  that  he 
was  himself  descended.2  Hitherto  the 
king's  enemies  had  given  him  little 
uneasiness ;  but  the  birth  of  his  son, 
which  threatened  to  perpetuate  the 
crown  in  his  family,  urged  them  to 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  at- 
tempts recorded  in  history.  First  a 
report  was  spread  that  the  young 
earl  of  Warwick  had  perished  in  the 
Tower ;  soon  afterwards  one  Richard 
Simons,  a  priest  of  Oxford,  entirely 
unknown  in  Ireland,  landed  at  Dub- 
lin, with  a  boy  about  fifteen  years  of 
age,  presented  his  ward  to  the  earl  of 
Kildare,  the  lord  deputy,  under  the 
name  of  Edward  Plantagenet,  the 


very  earl  so  lately  reported  to  have 
been  murdered,  and  implored  the  pro- 
tection of  that  nobleman  for  a  young 
and  innocent  prince,  who,  by  escaping 
from  the  Tower,  had  avoided  the  fate 
similar  to  that  of  his  unfortunate  cou- 
sins, the  sons  of  Edward  IV.  The  boy 
—he  was  the  son  of  Thomas  Siinnel 
a  joiner  at  Oxford3— had  been  well  in. 
structed  in  the  part  which  h.e  had  tc 
perform.  His  person  was  handsome ; 
his  address  had  something  in  it  which 
seemed  to  bespeak  nobility  of  descent ; 
and  he  could  relate  with  apparent 
accuracy  his  adventures  at  Sheriff- 
Hutton,  in  the  Tower,  and  during  his 
escape.  But  why  he  should  be  se- 
duced to  personate  a  prince  who  was 
still  living,  and  who  might  any  day 
be  confronted  with  him  is  a  mystery 
difficult  to  unravel.  Of  the  reasons 
which  have  been  assigned,  the  least 
improbable  is  that  which  supposes 
that  the  framers  of  the  plot  designed, 
if  it  succeeded,  to  place  the  real  War- 
wick on  the  throne ;  but  that,  sensible 
how  much  they  should  endanger  his 
life  if  they  were  to  proclaim  him  while 
he  was  in  the  Tower,  they  set  up  a 
counterfeit  Warwick,  and  by  this 
contrivance  made  it  the  interest  of 
Henry  to  preserve  the  true  one. 

Among  the  English  settlers  in  Ire- 
land the  partisans  of  the  house  of 
York  had  maintained  a  decided 
ascendancy  ever  since  the  adminis- 
tration of  Duke  Richard  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI.  The  Butlers  alone  had 
dared  to  unsheath  the  sword  in 
favour  of  the  Lancastrians  ;  and  they 


i  Eyra.  xii.  290. 

-  Lei.  Coll.  iv.  201.  On  this  occasion  the 
king's  mother  "made  ordinaunces  as  to 
what  preparation  is  to  be  made  against  the 
deliveraunce  of  a  queen,  as  also  for  the 
christening  of  the  child,  when  she  shall  be 
delivered."  They  descend  to  every  parti- 
cular "  of  the  furniture  of  her  highnesses 
•  hamber,  and  the  furniture  appertayning 
to  her  bedde,  how  the  church  shall  be 
nrraied  againste  the  christeninge,  how  the 
child  shall  go  to  be  christened  ;"  the  length 
aud  breadth  of  the  cradle  "to  be  fuire  set 


forth  by  painters  crafte,"  and  the  dimen- 
sions of  another  cradle  of  state,  which  is  to 
be  much  larger  than  the  other,  and  to  be 
furnished  with  "greate  magnificence,  like 
as  the  prince  or  princesse  herself'e  were 
lyinge  therein.— Ibid.  179—184.  The  cere- 
mony  of  the  christening  of  Arthur  is  after- 
wards described  (204—207.  I  observe  that 
the  queen  dowager  was  godmother,  and  that 
her  daughter  Cecily,  attended  by  Anne, 
another  of  her  daughters,  carried  the  child  ; 
a  proof  that  the  queen's  family  was  at  thU 
periort  in  high  favour  with  the  king. 
»  Hot.  Parl.  vi.  397. 


VII. 


I  CHAP.     . 


had  paid  by  attainders  and  executions 
the  penalty  of  their  attachment  to  the 
interests  of  the  red  rose.  At  the  time 
of  the  battle  of  Bosworth  the  reins  of 
administration  were  held  by  the  chief  of 
the  Yorkists,  the  earl  of  Kildare ;  nor 
did  Henry  venture,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  reign,  to  irritate  a  power- 
ful faction  by  removing  either  the 
lord  deputy,  or  the  members  of  the 
council.  But  his  jealousy  was  soon 
awakened  by  the  reports  of  his  spies ; 
Kildare  received  a  mandate  to  attend 
the  English  court ;  and  his  disobe- 
dience was  excused  by  a  petition  from 
the  spiritual  and  temporal  peers,  stat- 
ing in  forcible  terms  the  necessity  of 
his  presence  in  Ireland.  His  conduct 
on  the  arrival  of  Simons  was  of  a 
nature  to  confirm  Henry's  suspicions. 
He  showed  no  distrust  of  the  two 
adventurers;  he  inquired  not  how 
the  earl  came  to  be  committed  to  the 
charge  of  an  unknown  priest,  only 
twenty-seven  years  old;  he  evinced 
no  anxiety  to  ascertain  whether  the 
real  Warwick  were  still  in  the  Tower 
or  not ;  he  allowed  his  own  brother, 
the  lord  Thomas  Fitz-Gerald,  the 
chancellor,  to  introduce  the  boy 
under  his  assumed  name  to  the  nobi- 
lity of  Ireland  and  the  citizens  of 
Dublin,  and  to  promise  him  protec- 
tion against  his  enemies  and  those  of 
bis  family.  The  Butlers,  the  bishops 
i>f  Cashel,  Tuam,  Clogher,  and  Ossory, 
and  the  citizens  of  Waterford,  re- 
mained steady  in  their  allegiance; 
the  rest  of  the  population,  relying  on 
the  acquiescence  or  authority  of 
Kildare,  admitted  the  title  of  the  new 
Plantagenet,  without  doubt  or  inves- 
tigation ;  and  the  adventurer  was  pro- 
tlaimed  by  the  style  of  Edward  VI., 
ling  of  England  and  France,  and  lord 
nf  Ireland.1  Most  assuredly  the  de- 


puty had  been  already  admitted  into 
the  secret. 

"When  the  intelligence  reached 
Henry  he  was  alarmed,  not  so  much 
at  what  had  happened,  as  from  his 
ignorance  of  what  might  follow.  1.  He 
assembled  a  great  council  of  peers 
and  prelates,  and  by  their  advice  con- 
sented to  do  what  he  ought  to  have 
done  long  before.2  The  pardon  which 
he  had  issued  in  favour  of  his  oppo- 
nents had  been  not  only  clogged  with 
restrictions,  but  frequently  violated. 
He  now  published  a  pardon  which  was 
full,  without  exception?,  and  extended 
to  every  species  of  treason.  2.  He 
conducted  the  real  earl  of  Warwick 
from  the  Tower  to  St.  Paul's,  that  he 
might  be  publicly  recognised  by  the 
citizens ;  and  took  him  with  him  to 
the  palace  of  Shene,  where  the  young 
prince  conversed  daily  with  the  noble- 
men and  others  who  visited  the  court.3 
This  prudent  measure  satisfied  the 
people  of  England.  They  laughed  at 
the  imposture  in  Ireland,  while  the 
Irish  maintained  that  theirs  was  the 
real,  and  that  the  boy  at  Shene  was 
the  pretended  Plautagenet.  3.  But 
the  next  measure  created  surprise. 
The  reader  has  witnessed  the  honour- 
able manner  in  which  the  queen 
dowager  lived  at  court.  Suddenly, 
if  we  may  believe  several  writers,  she 
was  arrested,  despoiled  of  her  goods, 
and  committed  to  the  custody  of  tho 
monks  of  Bermondsey.  The  reason 
assigned  for  this  harsh  treatment  was, 
that  after  having,  in  the  last  reign, 
promised  her  daughter  to  Henry,  she 
had  delivered  her  into  the  hands  of 
the  usurper.  But  the  pretext  was 
too  improbable  to  obtain  credit.  It 
was  suspected  that  she  had  been  con- 
cerned in  the  present  plot.4  Yet 
where  could  be  her  inducement  ?  If 


1  Bacon,  14,   15.      Polydor.  563.     Wilk. 
Con.  iii.  618,  622. 

*  Lei.  Coll.  iv.  209.  3  Ibid. 

*  See  Polydore,  584;  Bacon,  1(3,  17.    It 
JH,  indeed,   possible  that  in   a  moment  oi 
<JUrm    and    uncertainty  Henry  may  have 


confined  the  widow  of  Edward  IV.,  as  a 
measure  of  precaution.  But  I  suspect  the 
whole  story  has  no  other  foundation  than 
the  fact  that  for  the  three  or  four  last  years 
of  her  life,  Elizabeth  chose  to  live  in  retire- 
ment at  Bermondsey,  paying  occasional 


.D.  MSB.] 


SIMNEL  THE  IMPOSTOR, 


387 


Henry  were  dethronad,  her  daughter 
must  share  the  fate  of  her  husband. 
If  the  real  or  pretended  "Warwick 
should  obtain  the  crown,  all  her 
children  would  of  course  be  disin- 
herited. At  every  step  of  this  affair 
•we  meet  with  new  mysteries.  It  will 
be  recollected  that  the  earl  of  Lincoln 
had  been  treated  by  Richard  as  heir- 
apparent.  Though  he  viewed  the  new 
Icing  as  an  usurper,  he  had  carefully 
suppressed  his  feelings,  and  had  been, 
summoned  to  the  last  council,  as  one 
in  whom  Henry  placed  confidence. 
Yet  the  moment  it  was  dissolved,  he 
repaired  to  the  court  of  his  aunt,  the 
duchess  of  Burgundy,  consulted  with 
her  and  Lord  Lovel,  and  receiving 
an  aid  of  two  thousand  veterans 
under  Martin  Swartz,  an  experienced 
officer,  sailed  to  Ireland  and  landed 
at  Dublin.  Kis  arrival  gave  new 
importance  to  the  cause  of  the  coun- 
terfeit Warwick.  Though  Lincoln 
had  frequently  conversed  with  the 
real  prince  at  Shene,1  he  advised  that 
the  impostor  should  be  crowned.  The 
ceremony  of  his  coronation  was  per- 
formed by  the  bishop  of  Meath,  with 
a  diadem  taken  from  the  statue  of  the 
Virgin  Mary ;  and  the  new  king  was 
carried,  after  the  Irish  manner,  from 
the  church  to  the  castle,  on  the 
shoulders  of  an  English  chieftain  of 
the  name  of  Darcy.  Writs  were  even 
issued  in  his  name:  a  parliament  was 
convoked:  and  legal  penalties  were 
enacted  against  his  principal  oppo- 
nents, Thomas  and  William  Butler,  and 
the  citizens  of  Waterford.2  But  what 
could  be  Lincoln's  object  in  contri- 
buting to  this  farce?  Even  the  real 
«arl  of  Warwick  could  not  be  heir  to 
the  crown  as  long  as  any  of  the  pos- 
terity of  Edward  IV.  were  alive.  If  it 


be  said  that  they  had  been  declared 
illegitimate,  so  had  Clarence,  the 
father  of  Warwick,  been  attainted. 
In  that  case  Lincoln  himself  had  a 
better  claim  than  the  prince  in  whose 
right  he  pretended  to  draw  the  sword. 
When  Henry  first  heard  of  the  de- 
parture of  Lincoln,  he  made  a  pro- 
gress through  the  counties  of  Essex, 
Suffolk,  and  Norfolk,  in  which  the 
earl  possessed  considerable  interest; 
und  thence  proceeded  through  North- 
ampton and  Coventry  to  his  castle  of 
Kenilworth,  which  he  had  appointed 
for  the  residence  of  his  queen,  and  his 
mother.  There  intelligence  was  re- 
ceived that  Lincoln,  with  his  German 
auxiliaries  and  a  body  of  Irish  asso- 
ciates, had  landed  at  the  pile  of  Fou- 
dray,  in  the  southern  extremity  of 
Furness;  had  remained  in  his  camp 
at  Swartmore,  near  Ulverstone,  till 
he  had  been  joined  by  the  tenantry  of 
Sir  Thomas  Broughton;  and  was  actu- 
ally on  his  march  through  the  county 
of  York.  The  king  soon  found  him- 
self surrounded  by  his  friends  with 
their  retainers,  and  orders  were  pub- 
lished by  his  authority  for  "  the 
goode  rule  of  his  hooste."  To  steal, 
rob,  or  ravish ;  to  take  provisions 
without  paying  the  price  affixed  by 
the  clerk  of  the  market ;  and  to 
arrest  or  imprison  any  man  on  the 
pretext  of  delinquency  but  without 
special  orders,  were  made  crimes 
punishable  with  death.  To  take 
other  lodgings  than  those  assigned 
by  the  proper  officers,  to  cause  any 
quarrel  or  affray,  or  to  prevent  per- 
sons from  bringing  provisions  to  the 
army,  subjected  the  offenders  to  the 
lesser  punishment  of  imprisonment. 
Every  man  was  ordered  under  the 
same  penalty  to  saddle  his  horse  at 


visits  only  to  her  daughter  at  Windsor. 
But  of  late  this  story  has  not  only  been 
assumed  as  true,  but  has  been  explained  on 
the  supposition  that  she  was  confined,  to  pre- 
vent her  from  revealing  to  the  insurgents  the 
dangerous  secret  that  her  son  Richard  was 


still  alive  (Laing,  433) ;  a  supposition,  how- 
ever, which  is  entirely  overturned  by  a  fact 
to  be  mentioned  in  the  course  of  a  few 
pages.  i  Lei.  Coll.  iv.  209. 

»  Sacon,  18, 19.   Irish  Stat.  8  Hearj  VILL 


138 

the  first  blast  of  the  trumpet,  to 
bridle  it  at  the  second,  and  at  the 
third  to  be  mounted  and  ready  to 
inarch.  Vagabonds,  who  had  no 
master,  and  common  women,  were 
threatened  with  the  stocks  or  impri- 
sonment.1 

The  two  armies,  as  if  by  mutual 
compact,  hastened  towards  Newark. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  earl,  as  he 
advanced,  tempted  the  loyalty  of  the 
inhabitants  by  proclaiming  Edward 
VI.  the  head  of  the  house  of  York. 
The  real  partisans  of  that  family  were 
restrained  by  their  fears  or  their  in- 
credulity ;  and  the  few  who  joined 
the  standard  of  the  adventurer  were 
outlaws  or  men  of  desperate  fortunes. 
Disappointed  but  undismayed,  Lin- 
coln resolved  to  stake  his  life  on  the 
event  of  a  battle ;  and  precipitated 
his  march,  that  he  might  find  the 
king  unprepared.  The  royalists  had 
moved  from  Kenilworth  by  Coventry, 
Leicester,  and  Nottingham ;  their 
numbers  daily  increased;  but  their 
quarters  were  ill  chosen,  and  night 
after  night  they  were  thrown  into 
confusion  by  alarms  which  furnished 
opportunities  of  desertion  to  the 
timid  and  disaffected.  But,  what  will 
excite  the  surprise  of  the  reader,  the 
whole  army  lost  its  way  between  Not- 
tingham and  Newark.  Five  guides 
were  at  length  procured  from  the  vil- 
lage of  Ratcliffe,  and  soon  afterwards 
the  vanguard,  under  the  earl  of  Ox- 
ford, was  attacked  at  Stoke  by  the 


TIL 


[CHAP.  v. 


insurgents,  amounting  to  eight  thou- 
sand men.  The  action  was  short  but 
sanguinary.  The  Germans  fought 
and  perished  with  tho  resolution  of 
veterans;  the  adventurers  from  Ire- 
land displayed  their  characteristic 
bravery,  but  with  their  darts  and 
skeans  (for  the  English  settlers  had 
adopted  the  arms  of  the  natives)  they 
were  no  match  for  the  heavy  cavalry; 
and  though  a  portion  only  of  the  roy- 
alists was  engaged,  the  victory  was  \von 
with  the  slaughter  of  one  half  of  their 
opponents.  Of  the  leader?,  the  insur- 
gents, the  earl  of  Lincoln,  the  lords 
Thomas  and  Maurice  Fitz-Gerald, 
Sir  Thomas  Broughton,  and  Martin 
Swartz,  remained  on  the  field  of 
battle ;  Lord  Lovel  was  seen  to  escape 
from  his  pursuers;  but  whether  he 
perished  in  crossing  the  Trent,  or 
contrived  to  secrete  himself  from  the 
notice  of  his  friends  and  foes,  is  un- 
certain. He  was  never  seen  or  heard 
of  after  that  day.2  Simons  and  his 
pupil  surrendered  to  Robert  Belling- 
ham,  one  of  the  king's  esquires.  The 
priest  was  made  to  confess  the  impos- 
ture before  the  convocation,  and  then 
thrown  into  a  prison,  in  which  he 
perished.  But  the  pretended  Edward 
VI.  obtained  his  pardon,  resumed  his 
real  name  of  Lambert  Simnel,  was 
made  a  scullion  in  the  royal  kitchen, 
and  afterwards,  in  reward  of  his  good 
conduct,  was  raised  to  the  more 
honourable  office  of  falconer.3 
From  this  insurrection  the  king 


1  See  Lei.  Coll.  iv.  210—212.    These  or- 
ders were  strictly  put  in  execution,  so  that 
at  Leicester  and  Loughborough  "  the  stokks 
and  prisonnes  wer  reasonabley  fylled." — Ib. 

2  On  account  of  his  disappearance  several 
writers  have  supposed  that  he  perished  in 
the  battle.     But  the  journal  of  the  herald 
\vho  was  present  evidently  proves  that  he 
escaped.     After  mentioning  the  names  of 
the  slain,  he  adds,  "  and  the  viscount  lorde 
Lovell  was  put  to  flight."— Lei.  Coll.  214. 
Towards  the  close  ot'  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, at  his  scat  at  Minster  Lovel,  in  Oxford- 
shire,  was  accidentally  discovered  a  chamber 
under  the  ground,  in  which  was  the  skeleton 
ci'  a  man  seated  in  a  chair,  wiih  his  head 


reclining  on  a  table.  Hence  it  is  supposed 
that  the  fugitive  had  found  an  asylum  in 
this  subterraneous  chamber,  where  he  waa 
perhaps  starved  to  death  through  neglect. 
There  is  also  a  tradition  that  Sir  Thomas 
Broughton  escaped  from  the  field,  and  lived 
till  his  death  in  concealment  among  his 
tenants  at  Withejslack,  in  the  county  of 
Westmoreland. — West's  Furness,  210. 

3  For  an  account  of  this  insurrection, 
compare  the  journal  of  the  herald  in  Lei. 
Coll.  iv.  209—215,  with  Hall,  4—10,  Bacon, 
13—23,  and  the  Holla,  vi.  807.  Vivit  adhuc 
Lambertus  ex  rege  accipitrum  domitor  fac- 
tus,  postquam  aliquantisper  ip  coau:na  rcgia 
veru  verterat. — Polyd.  5^8. 


l.D.  1487.] 


CORONATION  OF  THE  QUEEJS. 


139 


learned  an  important  lesson,  that  it 
was  not  his  interest  to  wound  the 
feelings  of  those  whose  principles  had 
attached  them  to  the  house  of  York. 
His  behaviour  to  the  queen  had 
created  great  discontent.  Why,  it  was 
asked,  was  she  not  crowned  ?  Why 
was  she,  the  rightful  heir  to  the 
crown,  refused  the  usual  honours  of 
royalty  ?  Other  kings  had  been  eager 
to  crown  their  consorts;  but  Elizabeth 
had  now  been  married  a  year  and  a 
half;  she  had  borne  the  king  a  son  to 
succeed  to  the  throne  ;  and  yet  she 
was  kept  in  obscurity,  as  if  she  were 
unworthy  of  her  station.  Henry  re- 
solved to  silence  these  murmurs,  and 
from  Warwick  issued  the  requisite 
orders  for  her  coronation.  The  cere- 
mony was  performed  during  the  ses- 
sion of  parliament ;  an  ample  pro- 
vision was  made  for  her  maintenance; 
and  from  that  period  Elizabeth  was 
brought  forward  on  all  occasions  of 
parade,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  the  same 
consideration  as  former  queens.1 

The  first  care  of  the  parliament  was 
to  supply  the  wants  of  the  conqueror 
by  a  grant  of  money,  and  a  bill  of 
attainder,  which  included  almost 
every  man  of  property  engaged  in 
the  late  insurrection.2  Next  the 


king  required  their  aid  to  put  down 
the  dangerous  and  unlawful  practice 
of  "maintenance."  The  reader  will 
recollect  that  by  "  maintenance  "  was 
understood  an  association  of  indivi- 
duals under  a  chief,  whose  livery  they 
wore,  and  to  whom  they  bound  them- 
selves by  oaths  and  promise?,  for  the 
purpose  of  maintaining  by  force  the 
private  quarrels  of  the  chief  and  the 
members.  Hence  the  course  of  jus- 
tice was  obstructed,  jurors  were  in- 
timidated, and  offenders  escaped  with 
impunity.  Hence  also  (and  this  it 
was  that  chiefly  provoked  the  hostility 
of  the  king)  powerful  noblemen  were 
furnished  with  the  means  of  raising 
forces  at  a  short  warning  to  oppose 
the  reigning  prince,  or  to  assist  a  new 
claimant.  In  the  preceding  parlia- 
ment an  oath  had  been  required 
from  the  lords,  and  was  ordered  to 
be  taken  by  the  commons  in  each 
county,  that  they  would  not  keep 
in  their  service  men  openly  cursed, 
or  murderers,  or  felons,  or  outlaws ; 
that  they  would  not  retain  persons  by 
indentures,  or  give  liveries  contrary 
to  law ;  and  that  they  would  not 
make  riots  or  maintenances,  nor 
oppose  the  due  execution  of  the 
king's  writs.3  In  the  present  it  was 


1  On  the  Friday  before  the  coronation 
fourteen  gentlemen  were  created  knights  of 
the  Bath.  On  the  Saturday  the  queen  went 
in  procession  from  the  Tower  to  Westmin- 
ster. She  was  dressed  in  white  cloth  of 
gold  of  damask,  with  a  mantle  of  the  same 
furred  with  ermine.  "  Her  faire  yelow  hair 
hung  downe  pleyne  byhynd  her  bak,  with  a 
calle  of  pipes  over  it."  On  her  head  was  a 
circle  of  gold  ornamented  with  precious 
stones.  In  this  dress  she  was  borne  through 
the  city  reclining  in  a  litter,  with  a  canopy 
of  cioth  of  gold  carried  over  her  by  four 
knights  of  the  body.  Several  carriages,  and 
four  baronesses  on  grey  palfreys  followed. 
On  the  Sunday  she  was  crowned,  and  after- 
wards dined  in  the  hall.  "  The  lady  Catha- 
rine Grey  and  Mistress  Ditton  went  under 
the  table  and  sate  at  her  feet,  while  the 
countesses  of  Oxford  and  Rivers  knelt  on 
each  side,  and  at  certeyne  tymys  belde  a 
karchief  byfor  her  grace."  The  kiug  viewed 
both  the  coronation  and  the  dinner  from 
behind  a  lattice.— Lei.  Coll.  iv.  216—233. 


2  Hot.  Parl.  vi.  386—400.     I  have  said, 
"  almost  every  man  of  property,"  for  by 
mistake   or  design  Lord  Lovel  was  omitted. 
But  the  omission  was  discovered  eight  years 
afterwards,  and  a  new  bill  of  attainder  was 
passed  to  include  him  (Rot.  Parl.  vi.  502). 
The  number,   however,  of  the    insurgents 
had  then  dwindled  from  eight  to  five  thou- 
sand, a  proof  that  we  are  not  to  trust  to 
acts   of  attainder  for  more  than  the  sub- 
stance of  the  offence. 

3  Ibid.  287.      Rym.    xii.    280.     On  that 
occasion  the    judges    had  been  consulted, 
who  replied  that  it  was  impossible  to  en- 
force the  execution  of  the  laws,  as  long  as 
"  maintenances"   existed.      The  chief  jus- 
tice, among  other  things  observed,  that  in 
the  time  of  Edward  IV.  the  lords  swore  to 
observe  the    statutes,  and  yet  in  his  pre- 
sence several  of  them,  within  an  hour  after- 
wards, retained  by  oaths  persons  to  support 
their    quarrels,    and    consequently    to    set 
aside  the  execution  of  the  law. — Year-book, 
Term,  Mich.  1  Hen.  VII.  3. 


140 


HENRI   VJ1. 


[CHAP.  v. 


enacted  that  the  chancellor,  treasurer, 
and  keeper  of  the  privy  seal,  or  two  of 
them,  with  one  bishop,  one  temporal 
speer,  and  the  chief  judges  of  the 
King's  Bench  and  Common  Pleas, 
fchould  have  authority  to  call  before 
them  persons  accused  of  having 
•  offended  in  Jny  of  these  points,  and 
to  punish  the  guilty,  as  if  they  had 
been  convicted  by  the  ordinary  course 
of  justice.  It  appears  from  the  acts 
of  the  council  that  in  cases  of  breach 
of  the  peace  committed,  or  of  combi- 
nations likely  to  lead  to  such  breach, 
formed  by  persons  whose  rank  and 
power  screened  them  from  the  ordi- 
nary pursuit  of  justice,  it  had  been 
•the  custom  for  the  king  to  call  such 
individuals  before  the  council,  where 
contending  parties  were  reconciled, 
the  guilty  punished,  and  the  sus- 
pected compelled  to  give  security 
for  their  good  behaviour.  This, 
which  might  be  called  the  criminal 
jurisdiction  of  the  council,  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  new  court  now  erected ; 
which,  however  useful  it  may  have 
proved  at  its  origin,  was  gradually 
converted  into  an  engine  of  intole- 
rable oppression.  Other  privy  coun- 
sellors besides  those  named  in  the  act, 


even  peers  not  privy  counsellors,  were 
called  in  to  sit  as  judges ;  the  limits  of 
their  jurisdiction,  as  fixed  by  statute, 
were  extended  till  they  included  libels, 
misdemeanours,  and  contempts;  and 
the  power  of  pronouncing  that  judg- 
ment on  delinquents  to  which  they 
would  have  been  liable  if  they  had 
been  convicted  "  after  the  due  course 
of  law,"  grew  in  practice  into  a  power 
of  punishing  at  discretion,  and  with 
a  severity  which  provoked  the  curses 
and  hatred  of  all  classes  of  men.  .This 
court  was  called  the  court  of  the  star- 
chamber,  from  the  accidental  deco- 
rations of  the  room  in  which  it 
usually  sat.1 

Henry  was  careful  to  cultivate  the 
friendship  which  subsisted  between 
him  and  the  king  of  Scots.  To 
cement  it  more  firmly,  Fox,  bishop 
of  Durham,  had  been  sent  during 
the  summer  to  Edinburgh  ;  and  a 
mutual  agreement  had  been  made, 
that  James,  who  had  lost  his  consort, 
the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Denmark, 
should  marry  Elizabeth,  the  queen 
dowager  of  England,  and  that  liis 
two  sons  should  also  marry  two  of 
her  daughters.'-*  Days  were  even  ap- 
pointed for  the  meeting  of  ambassa- 


1  Statutes  of  the  Realm,  ii.  509.  Bacon,  38. 
On  the  15th  of  Dember,  during  this  parlia- 
ment, a  conspiracy  was  formed  among  the 
servants  of  the  household  to  murder  some 
of  the  superior  officers.     Six  of  the  ring- 
leaders were  attainted  of  felony  by  parlia- 
ment, and  an  act  was  passed  which  made 
it  felony  without  benefit  of  clergy  for  any 
person  under  the  rank  of  a  lord,  if  he  were 
entered  on  the  cheque-roll  of  the  household, 

-to  conspire  the  death  of  the  king,  of  any 
peer,  of  any  privy  counsellor,  or  of  the 
steward,  treasurer,  or  comptroller  of  the 
household.  Before  this  act  they  could  not 
be  so  punished  for  the  conspiracy  itself, 
unless  the  act  followed.— Rot.  Parl.  vi.  402. 

••Btat.  of  Realm,  ii.  521. 

2  Rym.  xii.  329.    This  fact  deserves  par- 
ticular notice,  as  it  invincibly  disproves  the 
Lypothesis  of  those  writers  who   maintain 
that  Henry  knew  that  one  of  the  sous  of 
Edward  IV.  was  still  living,  and  hud  con- 
fined their  mother  Elizabeth  that  she  might 
-not  divulge  the  secret.     If  this  were  true,  it 
is  incredible  that  he  should  have  wished  to 
marry  Elizal^eth  to  the  king  of  Scots,  and 


her  two  daughters  to  two  Scottish  princes. 
Such  marriages  would  have  placed  her  in  a 
situation  where  she  might  have  published 
the  truth  without  fear,  have  secured  an 
asylum  for  her  son,  and  have  seconded  his 
claim  with  all  the  powor  of  Scotland.  In- 
deed, I  give  no  credit  to  the  account  of 
Henry's  enmity  to  his  mother-in-law.  That 
she  was  high  in  the  king's  favour  just  before 
the  rebellion  of  Lincoln,  appears  from  his 
having  chosen  her  to  te  godmother  to  his 
son  :  that  she  was  equally  so  after,  may  be 
inferred  from  his  wish  to  marry  her  the 
same  year  to  his  friend  the  king  of  Scots. — 
Polydore,  indeed  (p.  571),  and  Bacon  (p.  16), 
who  transcribes  Hall  (p.  3),  tell  us  that  the 
king,  on  the  rebellion  of  Lincoln,  deprived 
her  of  all  her  lands  and  estates.  If  they 
mean  her  dower  as  queen,  the  only  pro- 
perty which  she  had,  their  assertion  is  un- 
doubtedly false.  She  had  been  deprived  of 
that  by  Richard  III. ;  nor  was  it  restored 
by  Henry's  parliament,  when  it  repealed  so 
much  of  the  act  as  deprived  her  "of  the 
name,  estate,  and  dignity  of  queen." — Rot. 
Parl.  vi.  288.  In  lieu  of  it  the  king  grafted 


A.D.  1487.]       PEACE  PROLONGED  WITH  SCOT1  AND. 


dors  to  fix  the  marriage  settlements ;  j 
but  the  project  was  interrupted  by 
the  rebellion  of  the  Scottish  lords, 
and  finally  defeated  by  the  death  of 
James,  who,  after  losing  the  battle  of 
Canglor,  in  June,  1488,  was  murdered 
at  the  mill  of  Beaton  during  his 
flight.  Though  Henry  grieved  for  the 
death  of  his  friend,  he  was  anxious 
to  maintain  the  relations  of  amity 
with  his  successor ;  and  therefore,  as 
the  truce  might  be  said  to  have  ter- 
minated at  the  death  of  James,  he 
ratified  it  anew  in  the  following 
month.  Thus  was  peace  continued 
between  the  two  crowns  for  the 
space  of  eleven  years;  an  unusual 
duration,  preparative  of  that  har- 
mony which,  after  centuries  of  rapine 
and  bloodshed,  was  at  last  happily 
established.1 

As  soon  as  the  king  was  relieved 
from  domestic  enemies,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  direct  his  attention  to  the 
continent.  By  force,  or  policy,  or 
good  fortune,  the  French  monarchs 
had  gradually  obtained  possession  of 
the  other  great  fiefs  of  the  crown; 
Bretagne  alone  retained  its  own 
prince,  and  its  ancient  constitution. 
But  the  duke  Francis  was  advanced 
in  age,  and  weak  both  in  mind  and 
body.  His  family  consisted  of  two 
daughters,  the  elder  of  whom,  named 
Anne,  had'  reached  her  twelfth  year. 
So  rich  an  heiress  attracted  a  number 
of  suitors,  among  whom  the  most  dis- 
tinguished were,  Maximilian  king  of 
the  Romans,  the  duke  of  Orleans, 
first  prince  of  the  blood  in  France, 
and  the  lord  D'Albret,  a  powerful 
chieftain  near  the  foot  of  the  Pyre- 
nees. Each  of  these  might  flatter 


himself  with  the  hope  of  obtaining 
with  the  princess  her  ample  patri- 
mony ;  but  they  had  all  a  dangerous 
nemy  in  the  king  of  France,  who, 
though  he  was  prevented  from  soli- 
citing the  hand  of  Anne  by  his 
previous  contract  with  the  daughter 
of  Maximilian,  had  determined  at  the 
death  of  the  duke  to  take  possession 
of  the  duchy  in  virtue  of  some  ancient 
and  unintelligible  claim,  which  had 
lain  dormant  for  centuries. 

Charles  VIII.  had  ascended  the- 
throne  in  1483,  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen, an  age  at  which  the  law  pre- 
sumed that  the  heir  to  the  sceptre 
must  be  possessed  of  sufficient  capa- 
city and  experience  to  govern  the 
kingdom.  But  his  father  Louis  XL 
had  thought  otherwise ;  and  in 
obedience  to  the  instructions  of  that 
monarch,  the  states  placed  the  young 
king  under  the  tutelage  of  his  elder 
sister,  Anne  of  France,  who  had 
married  Pierre  de  Bourbon,  lord 
of  Beaujeu.  The  duke  of  Orleans, 
though  he  had  not  reached  his 
twenty-fourth  year,  was  offended 
with  the  choice ;  he  raised  forces 
against  the  regent,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  seek  the  protection  of  the- 
duke  of  Bretagne.  It  ST>  chanced 
that  at  the  same  time  several  Bpeton 
nobles,  who  had  incurred  the  resent- 
ment of  Francis  by  the  murder  of 
his  favourite  minister,  Pierre  de 
Landois,  had  fled  to  the  court  of 
Charles.  The  regent  declared  war, 
for  the  apparent  purpose  of  com- 
pelling the  duke  to  pardon  the  exiles,, 
and  give  up  the  French  prince,  but 
with  the  real  view  of  preventing  the* 
marriage  of  Anne,  and  of  annexing 


her  a  compensation.  See  the  collection  of 
unpublished  acts  by  Kymer,  Hen.  VII. 
torn.  i.  Nos.  29,  39.  Again,  Polydore  (ibid.) 
assures  us  that  she  ever  afterwards  led  a 
miserable  life  ;  Carte  (p.  827)  and  Laing 
(p.  433),  that  she  was  kept  in  the  strictest 
confinement.  But  this  too  must  be  in  a 
great  measure,  if  not  entirely,  false  ;  for  we 
accidentally  learn  from  the  journal  of  the 


herald  (Lei.  Coll.  iv.  249),  that  when  the- 
French  ambassadors  were  introduced  to  tho 
queen  at  Westminster  in  November,  1489,. 
"  ther  was  with  hir  hir  moder  quene  Eliza- 
beth, and  my  lady  the  kinge's  moder;"  and 
we  find  her  next  year  receiving  an  annuitj 
from  the  king. — Kym.  ibid.  No.  75. 

i  Ryra.  xii.  328—331,  346. 


142 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


Bretagne  to  the  crown.  Both  par- 
ties applied  to  Henry.  The  king  of 
Prance  deprecated  his  interference ; 
the  duke  solicited  immediate  assist- 
ance. Charles,  to  lull  his  jealousy, 
represented  the  war  as  an  unim- 
portant quarrel  between  himself  and 
the  protector  of  a  rebellious  vassal ; 
Francis  endeavoured  to  awaken  his 
fears,  by  describing  the  accession  of 
power  which  France  would  derive 
from  the  conquest  of  the  duchy. 
Each  appealed  to  his  gratitude.  The 
former  reminded  him  of  the  French 
auxiliaries  who  fought  under  his 
banner  at  the  battle  of  Bosworth  ; 
the  latter  of  the  protection  which  he 
had  experienced  during  his  long  exile 
in  Bretagne.  Henry  was  perplexed ; 
and  unwilling  to  offend  either,  he 
offered  himself  as  a  mediator  between 
both.  With  this  view  his  almoner 
Urswick  was  employed  month  after 
month  in  useless  journeys  between 
the  courts  of  Paris,  Rennes,  and 
Westminster.  Charles,  while  he  pro- 
fessed himself  willing  to  accept  the 
mediation,  prosecuted  the  war  with 
additional  vigour.  In  May  he  en- 
tered Bretagne ;  Ploermel  and  Vannes 
were  compelled  to  open  their  gates; 
and  in  June  the  duke  saw  himself 
besieged  in  his  capital.  Maximilian 
sent  to  his  assistance  a  body  of 
fifteen  hundred  men,  who  with  a 
reinforcement  of  Bretons,  fought 
their  way  through  the  French  lines, 
and  ultimately  compelled  the  enemy 
to  abandon  the  siege.  Charles,  how- 
ever, continued  the  war;  and  to  be 
revenged  of  the  king  of  the  Romans, 
ordered  the  mareschal  de  Cordes  to 
aid  the  citizens  of  Bruges  and  Ghent, 
who  had  revolted  from  Maximilian. 
Francis  reiterated  his  solicitations  to 
Henry ;  but  the  king,  trusting  to  the 
ohance  of  events  and  the  internal  re- 
sources of  Bretagne,  always  promised 


i  Bacon,  29—32.  Kym.  xii.  344,  347. 
Com.  Supplera.  c.  iii.  iv.  Polyd.  569.  Hall, 
11—14.  Daniel,  ann.  1485—1488. 


and  always  delayed.  It  was  not  that 
he  could  plead  poverty.  His  parlia- 
ment had  granted  him  two  fifteenths, 
and  advised  him  to  assist  his  friend ; 
but  avarice  prompted  him  to  accept 
the  money,  and  to  neglect  the  advice. 
He  acquainted  the  French  court  with 
the  proceedings  of  parliament,  in  the 
vain  hope  that  Charles  might  be  ter- 
rified into  forbearance ;  he  refused  to 
English  adventurers  the  royal  per- 
mission to  serve  in  the  army  of 
Francis ;  and  when  Sir  Edward 
Wydevile  with  four  hundred  men 
privately  sailed  from  the  Isle  of 
Wight  for  Bretagne,  he  not  only 
disavowed  the  expedition  to  the 
French  government,  but  consented 
to  an  armistice  which  should  last  for 
six  months.1 

It  was  not,  however,  long  before  he 
saw  reason  to  doubt  the  policy  of  such 
vacillating  conduct.  In  the  disastrous 
battle  of  SLAubin,  Sir  Edward  Wyde- 
vile was  slain  with  all  his  countrymen 
and  seventeen  hundred  Bretons,  who, 
to  deceive  the  enemy,  had  adopted 
the  white  coats  and  red  crosses  of 
the  English  soldiers.  The  duke  of 
Orleans  was  made  prisoner ;  St. 
Aubin,  Dinant,  and  St.  Malo  sur- 
rendered ;  and  Francis  signed  a 
treaty,  by  which  he  consented  that 
Charles  should  retain  all  his  con- 
quests', and  that  neither  of  his  daugh- 
ters should  marry  without  the  appro- 
bation of  the  French  king.  But  the 
sequel  was  still  more  perplexing.  In 
a  few  weeks  Francis  died,  and  soon 
afterwards  his  younger  daughter 
followed  him  to  the  grave.  The 
king  of  France,  in  virtue  of  his  pre- 
tended claim,  demanded  the  wholo 
succession  ;  hostilities  recommenced ; 
and  before  Christmas  one  half  of 
Bretagne  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
French.  The  clamour  of  the  nation 
now  roused  Henry  from  his  apathy. 
On  the  same  day  he  despatched 
envoys  to  the  kings  of  Spain  and 
Portugal,  to  Maximilian  and  his  soa 


A.D.  1483.]         HENllY'S  PRETENDED  ASSISTANCE. 


113 


the  archduke  Philip,  to  Anne  of 
Bretagne,  and  Charles  of  France. 
Of  these  embassies  the  four  first 
were  chiefly  meant  for  parade ;  to 
the  orphan  princess  he  made  the  offer 
of  an  English  army  ;  to  the  king  of 
France  he  proposed  a  renewal  of  the 
truce,  but  with  an  additional  clause, 
that  each  party  might  include  his 
allies.  Sensible  that  the  proposal 
would  be  rejected,  he  insinuated  to 
Charles,  that  if  his  people  compelled 
him  to  aid  the  Bretons,  his  army 
should  act  entirely  on  the  defensive.1 
Henry  now  summoned  a  parlia- 
ment. The  nation  was  anxious  to 
rescue  a  young  and  unfortunate 
princess  from  the  power  of  a  victo- 
rious enemy :  but  the  cold-hearted 
king  had  determined  to  enrich  him- 
self from  the  generosity  of  the  one 
and  the  necessities  of  the  other.  From 
his  subjects  he  demanded  an  aid  of 
one  hundred  thousand  pounds  for  the 
maintenance  of  ten  thousand  archers 
during  twelve  months  ;  but  the 
amount  was  cut  down  to  seventy- 
five  thousand ;  and  to  raise  that  sum, 
the  lords  for  themselves,  the  commons 
for  themselves  and  their  constituents, 
granted  to  the  king  a  tenth  of  the 
vearly  produce  of  their  lands,  fees, 
and  pensions,  with  a  tax  on  personal 
property  of  one  penny  in  eight.  To 
Anne  he  promised  an  army  of  six 
thousand  archers  to  serve  for  six 
months;  but  on  conditions  to  which 
her  necessities  compelled  her  to  sub- 
scribe, that  she  should  surrender  two 
fortresses  as  securities  for  the  repay- 
ment of  the  expense,  and  should  take 
an  oath  not  to  marry  without  his 
consent.  In  the  spring  Sir  Robert 
Willoughby  de  Brooke  landed  in 


Bretagne  with  the  stipulated  number 
of  men ;  but  as  Charles  knew  that  the 
English  were  forbidden  to  undertake 
offensive  operations,  he  ordered  his 
own  forces  to  abstain  from  a  general 
engagement.  The  consequence  was, 
that  a  few  skirmishes  kept  up  the 
appearance  of  hostilities ;  and  the 
auxiliaries,  as  soon  as  the  six  months 
of  their  service  were  completed,  re- 
turned to  their  own  country.2 

But,  if  the  war  languished  in  Bre- 
tagne, it  was  distinguished  by  a  most 
brilliant  action  in  Flanders.  The 
revolted  Flemings  with  the  aid  of 
De  Cordes  had  besieged  Dixmude; 
and  the  lords  Daubeney  and  Morley, 
with  two  thousand  archers  and  thrice 
that  number  of  Germans,  attacked 
them  in  their  camp,  though  it  was 
defended  by  a  strong  battery.  The 
archers  poured  a  volley  of  arrows 
into  the  trenches,  fell  on  the  ground 
till  the  guns  had  been  discharged, 
rose  on  their  feet,  poured  in  a  second 
volley,  and  rushed  precipitately  into 
the  camp.  The  victory  was  complete; 
but  it  was  stained  with  cruelty.  Re- 
venge for  the  death  of  "  that  gentill 
yong  knight  the  lord  Morlay"  so 
transported  the  victors,  that  they 
refused  to  give  quarter,  and  eight 
thousand  of  the  enemy  are  said  to 
have  been  slain,  a  carnage  almost 
incredible,  if  we  consider  the  small 
number  of  the  combatants  in  each 
army.3 

The  expedition  to  Bretagne  had, 
however,  been  productive  of  some 
advantage.  It  had  stopped  the  pro- 
gress of  the  French  arms.  At  the 
same  time  the  levies  of  Ferdinand 
king  of  Spain  had  compelled  Charles 
to  detach  a  numerous  force  to  Fonta- 


1  Kym.  xii.  347—355.    Bacon,  37.     Hall, 
T.  15.     Com.  Supplera.  v. 

2  Bacon,   37.     Kjm.  xii.  362,  372.    Rot. 
Parl.  vi.  420. 

3  Hall,   18.     Bacon,  47.     The  herald  has 
celebrated  in  his  journal  the   resolution  of 
an  archer,  called  John  Pear8on,  of  Coven- 
try, who  having  lost  a  leg  by  a  cannon-shot, 


continued  to  discharge  his  arrows  kneeling 
or  sitting,  "  And  when  the  Frenchmen 
fledde,  he  cried  to  one  of  his  felowes,  and 
saide,  have  thow  these  six  arrowes  that  I 
have  lefte,  and  folow  thow  the  chase,  for  I 
may  not.  The  which  John  Pearson  died 
within  lew  days  after,  on  whose  soulle  God 
have  mercy."— Lei.  Coll.  iv.  247, 


HENRY  Vlf. 


[CHAP,  v 


rabia,  for  the  protection  of  that  fron- 
tier. In  these  circumstances  the 
defeat  at  Dixmude,  and  the  sur- 
render of  St.  Oiner  to  the  king  of  the 
Eomans,  induced  the  French  monarch 
to  listen  to  proposals  for  peace ;  and  in 
a  convention  with  Maximilian,  he 
consented  to  restore  to  the  princess 
all  the  towns  which  belonged  to 
Francis  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and 
promised  that  as  soon  as  the  English 
forces  should  retire,  and  she  should 
give  security  for  her  allegiance,  St. 
Malo,  Fougeres,  Din  ant,  and  St.  Au- 
bin  should  be  sequestered,  to  remain 
in  the  hands  of  an  indifferent  person 
till  the  claim  of  Charles  to  the  duchy 
could  be  satisfactorily  determined. 

"We  may  now  return  to  England, 
where  of  the  sum  voted  in  the  last 
session  of  parliament  only  a  small  part 
had  been  raised.  The  commons  of  the 
northern  counties  had  not  only  refused 
to  pay  their  proportion,  but  had  even 
murdered  the  king's  lieutenant,  the 
earl  of  Northumberland.  But  the 
insurrection  was  quickly  suppressed 
by  the  earl  of  Surrey ;  John  a  Cham- 
bre,  one  of  the  ringleaders,  suffered  at 
York ;  and  Sir  John  Egremond,  the 
other,  escaped  to  the  duchess  of  Bur- 
gundy.1 In  the  next  session,  the 
deficiency  of  the  tax,  which  instead  of 
seventy-five  had  produced  no  more 
than  twenty-five  thousand  pounds, 
was  amply  supplied  by  the  grant  of  a 
tenth  and  a  fifteenth.  Henry  with 
great  care  deposited  the  money  in 
his  coffers.  War  was  not  his  object. 
Instead  of  military  preparations  he 
consumed  the  whole  of  the  present 
arid  a  great  part  of  the  next  year 
in  forming  and  re-forming  alliances 
with  the  kings  of  Spain  and  the 
Eomans.  Never  perhaps  did  three 
princes  profess  more,  and  feel  less, 
affection  for  each  other.  For  the 
common  advantage  of  Christendom 
they  agreed  to  set  bounds  to  the  am- 


bition of  France ;  bui  in  reality  each 
sought,  by  working  on  the  apprehen- 
sions of  Charles,  to  promote  his  indi- 
vidual interest.  Maximilian  hoped 
to  recover  the  ancient  patrimony  of 
his  family  on  the  north  of  France,  and 
with  the  duchess  to  obtain  the  duchy 
of  Bretagne;  Ferdinand  expected  to 
procure  the  restitution  of  Eousillon, 
which  he  had  formerly  mortgaged  for 
the  loan  of  three  hundred  thousand 
crowns ;  while  Henry  cared  little  for 
the  fate  of  Bretagne,  or  the  interests 
of  his  allies,  provided  he  could  extort 
from  Anne  security  for  the  repayment 
of  his  expenses,  and  from  Charles  a 
valuable  present  in  reward  of  his  for- 
bearance.2 

The  king  of  the  Eomans,  both  by 
the  promptitude  with  which  he  had 
formerly  sent  succours  to  Francis, 
and  the  attention  which  he  had  lately 
paid  to  the  interests  of  Anne,  had  won 
the  esteem  of  both  the  father  and 
daughter ;  and  when,  during  the  ces- 
sation of  hostilities,  she  signified  her 
consent  to  his  proposal  of  marriage, 
she  did  no  more  than  comply  with 
the  wishes  of  her  deceased  parent. 
If  Maximilian  had  improved  the 
golden  opportunity  to  visit  Bretagne, 
he  would  have  secured  the  object  of 
his  ambition;  but  his  Flemish  sub- 
jects were  in  rebellion ;  the  journey 
by  land  or  water  would  expose  him  to 
his  enemies ;  and  it  was  thought  that 
the  marriage  by  proxy  would  be 
equally  certain  and  less  dangerous. 
With  this  view  the  prince  of  Orange, 
as  the  representative  of  the  king  of 
the  Eomans,  married  the  duchess  in 
his  name  in  the  month  of  April ;  and 
within  a  few  weeks,  the  lord  D'Albret, 
one  of  her  suitors,  to  revenge  the  dis- 
appointment, betrayed  to  the  French 
the  important  city  of  Nantes.  War 
was  now  renewed ;  the  king  of  the 
Eomans  thinking  himself  secure, 
neglected  to  succour  his  wife ;  Henry 


1  Hall,   16.    Bacon.  41.    Fab.  628.    Lei.        2  Hot.  Parl.  vi.  438.    Kym.  xi.  387,  394— 
Coll.  if.  216.  430,  437,  440,  443. 


A.D.  1490.1  ANNE  COMPELLED  TO  MARRY  CHARLES. 


145 


harassed  her  with  demands  of  money  |  the  French  king ;  that  the  rights  of 


for  the  repayment  of  his  former  ex- 
penses ;  and  Charles  formed  the  plan, 
suspected  by  neither  of  these  powers, 
of  compelling  her  to  break  her  con- 
tract with  Maximilian,  and  to  marry 
"himself.1 

It  was  true  that  at  an  early  age  he 
had  been  contracted  to  Margaret  of 
Austria,  Maximilian's  daughter,  who 
had  been  educated  in  France  as  his 
consort,  And  only  waited  till  she 
reached  the  age  of  puberty  to  ratify 
the  marriage.  But  this  circumstance, 
which  might  have  deterred  other 
princes,  only  supplied  Charles  with  a 
cloak  to  conceal  his  real  intention. 
By  promises  and  bribes  he  bought 
the  councillors  of  the  duchess;  but 
when  the  proposal  was  made  to 
her,  she  rejected  it  with  disdain. 
"Was  not  Charles  her  natural  enemy  ? 
"Was  he  not  contracted  to  Margaret  ? 
Was  not  she  herself  married  to 
Maximilian?  They  replied  that  she 
ought  to  sacrifice  a  feeling  of  dislike 
to  the  interests  of  her  country ; 
that  the  contract  between  Charles 
and  Margaret  was  void,  because  that 
princess  was  under  age ;  and  that  the 
marriage  between  herself  and  Maxi- 
milian had  not  been  consummated, 
and  might  therefore  be  dissolved,  be- 
cause Bretagne  was  a  fief  of  the 
French  crown,  and  by  law  an  heiress 
could  not  marry  without  the  consent 
of  her  lord.  These  reasons  made  no 
impression  on  the  mind  of  Anne ;  but 
they  were  supported  by  a  French 
army,  which  appeared  before  the  gates 
of  Rennes.  She  was  now  told  that 
her  obstinacy  had  been  punished. 
There  remained  no  hope  of  escape. 
She  must  be  either  the  wife  or  cap- 
tive of  Charles.  Subdued  at  last  by 
importunity  and  terror,  she  consented 
to  a  treaty,  of  which  the  principal 
articles  were  that  she  should  marry 


each  should  be  reciprocally  commu- 
nicated to  the  other;  that  the  sur- 
ivor  should  retain  possession  of  the 
duchy ;  but  that,  in  case  she  were  tho 
survivor,  she  should,  if  she  remained 
single,  bequeath  her  dominions  to  the 
reigning  prince,  or,  if  she  chose  to 
marry,  marry  no  one  but  the  actual 
possessor  or  the  presumptive  heir  of 
the  French  crown.  She  was  married 
to  Charles  at  Langey,  in  Touraine, 
and  crowned  in  the  abbey  church  of 
St.  Denis.2 

The  reader  may  conceive  the  feel- 
ings of  Maximilian  at  this  double  dis- 
appointment. By  his  own  inactivity, 
and  the  arts  of  his  enemy,  he  had  lost 
for  himself  a  wife  and  a  principality,  for 
his  daughter  a  husband  and  a  throne. 
His  rage  vented  itself  in  threats  and 
imprecations;  but  the  exhaustion  of 
his  treasury,  and  the  factious  temper 
of  his  people,  forbade  him  to  seek 
revenge  by  open  hostilities.  Henry 
received  the  intelligence  with  the 
coolness  of  a  philosopher;  and,  in- 
stead of  irritating  his  mind  by  reflect- 
ing on  what  he  had  lost,  sat  himself 
down  to  calculate  the  chances  of 
deriving  pecuniary  advantages  from 
the  event.  During  the  last  year  he 
had  repeatedly  assumed  a  warlike 
attitude;  he  had  ordered  troops  to 
be  levied,  stores  to  be  provided;  he 
had  even  appointed  commissioners  to 
extort  money  in  the  different  coun- 
ties under  the  illegal  and  vexatious 
name  of  "  benevolence."  3  In  October 
he  acquainted  the  parliament  with  his 
resolution  of  chastising  the  perfidy  of 
the  French  king  (though  Charles  had 
not  then  married  the  princess),  and 
obtained  from  it  a  grant  of  two  tenths 
and  two  fifteenths.4  After  Christmas 
he  found  both  houses  still  more  eager 
for  war ;  an  act  was  passed  in  favour 
of  those  who  should  accompany  the 


1  Hall,    20.      Bacon,    48.      Com.    Sup- 
plem.  vi. 

2  Hall,  29.    Bacoii,  65.    Com.  Supplom 


vi.    Daniel,  anno  1489— 1491. 
3  Rym.  xii.  446,  455,  464. 
*  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  442. 
L 


146 


HENRY  VII. 


fCHAP.  V. 


King,  enabling  them  to  alienate  their 
estates  without  the  payment  of  fines, 
and  to  enfeoff  lands,  that  their  exe- 
cutors might  have  funds  to  fulfil 
their  bequests ;  and  laws  were  made, 
compelling  the  captains,  under  pain  of 
imprisonment  and  forfeiture,  to  pay 
their  men  within  six  days  after  the 
money  was  issued  from  the  treasury, 
and  making  it  felony  for  any  soldier 
to  leave  the  army  without  the  per- 
mission of  his  superior  officer.1 

Still  these  laws  and  preparations 
were  but  a  mask,  under  which  the 
king  sought  to  conceal  his  designs 
from  his  own  subjects  as  well  as  the 
enemy.  The  former  would  pay  the 
tenths  and  fiftenths ;  the  latter  might 
perhaps  offer  a  valuable  sum  for  the 
purchase  of  peace.  With  this  view 
he  continually  invented  reasons  for 
delay.  It  would  be  dangerous  to 
leave  the  kingdom  exposed  to  the 
inroads  of  the  Scots;  four  months 
were  employed  in  negotiating  a  pro- 
longation of  the  armistice  between 
the  two  kingdoms.3  Two  more  were 
consumed  in  forming  contracts  for 
the  levy  of  different  descriptions  of 
force ;  of  men-at-arms  each  attended 
by  his  custrel  and  page,  of  lancers 
and  archers  on  horseback,  and  of  foot 
soldiers  armed  with  bows,  halberds, 
and  bills..  These  troops  were  mus- 
tered and  inspected  in  June  and 
July;  yet  week  passed  after  week, 
and  the  season  for  active  operations 
was  suffered  to  elapse  before  the  king 
put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  army. 
In  the  beginning  of  October  he  landed 
at  Calais;  a  fortnight  later  he  sat 
down  before  Boulogne,  with  sixteen 
hundred  men-at-arms,  and  twenty- 
five  thousand  infantry. 

It  was  now  believed  that  the  war 
had  begun ;  and  the  people  of  Eng- 
land flattered  themselves  with  the 
anticipation  of  victory  and  conquest. 


Henry  had  other  objects  in  view.  As 
long  back  as  the  month  of  June  he 
had  commissioned  the  lordD'Aubigny,. 
governor  of  Calais,  to  negotiate  a 
peace  and  alliance  with  Charles ;  and, 
if  we  may  judge  from  appearances, 
that  peace  was,  in  substance  at  least, 
already  concluded.  On  the  part  or 
France  no  preparations  were  made  to 
repel  the  invaders;  and  Henry,  in- 
stead of  acting  with  vigour,  first  pub- 
lished a  letter  from  his  envoy  in  the 
court  of  Maximilian,  and  then  another 
from  his  ambassador  with  Ferdinand, 
that  the  army  might  know  how  little 
was  to  be  expected  from  either  of 
those  princes.  Soon  afterwards  he 
received  from  D'Aubigny  the  rough 
draft  of  a  treaty,  which  was  imme- 
diately submitted  to  the  consideration 
of  twenty-four  of  his  principal  officers. 
In  their  report  to  the  king  they  advised 
him  to  sign  it,  alleging  the  lateness 
of  the  season,  the  sickness  of  the  army, 
the  inactivity  of  his  allies,  the  strength 
of  Boulogne  and  the  neighbouring 
fortresses,  and  the  advantageous  offers 
of  his  antagonist.  Henry  had  asked 
their  opinion  merely  to  exonerate 
himself  from  blame ;  and  two  treaties, 
the  one  public  the  other  private, 
were  immediately  concluded.  By  the 
former,  peace,  alliance,  and  confede- 
racy, were  established  between  the 
two  crowns,  to  last  during  the  lives  of 
both  kings,  and  for  one  year  after  the 
death  of  the  survivor ;  by  the  latter, 
Charles  bound  himself  to  pay  to 
Henry  by  half-yearly  instalments  of 
twenty-five  thousand  crowns,  the  ag- 
gregate sum  of  one  hundred  and 
forty-nine  thousand  pounds  sterling ; 
one  hundred  and  twenty-four  thou- 
sand of  which  should  be  received  in 
lieu  of  all  claims  against  Anne  of 
Bretagne,  and  twenty-five  thousand 
as  the  arrears  of  the  annuity  due  to 
the  late  King  Edward  IV.  Henry 


*  Stat.  ofEealm,  ii.  649. 

*  Ejm.  xii.  465,  473,. 


3  Ibid.  478-  1BO. 


A.D.  1492.]      PERKIN  Tft  ARBECK,  THE  PRETENDER. 


147 


Xeturned  to  Calais.  His  favourites, 
who  had  received  bribes  from  the 
French  king,  applauded  the  wisdom 
and  good  fortune  of  their  master ; 
but  the  army  loudly  condemned  the 
dissimulation  and  avarice  of  a  prince 
who,  to  replenish  his  own  coffers,  had 
not  hesitated  to  disappoint  the  hopes 
of  the  nation,  and  to  lead  so  many 
knights  and  noblemen  into  ruinous, 
and  at  the  same  time  unnecessary 
expenses.1 

It  is  now  time  to  introduce  to  the 
reader  one  of  the  most  mysterious 
personages  recorded  in  English  his- 
tory. About  the  time  when  Henry 
published  his  intention  of  making 
war  against  France,  a  merchant  ves- 
sel from  Lisbon  cast  anchor  in  the 
cove  of  Cork.  Among  the  passengers 
was  a  youth,  whom  no  person  knew, 
about  twenty  years  of  age,  of  hand- 
some features  and  courtly  deport- 
ment. It  was  soon  rumoured  that 
he  was.  Richard  duke  of  York,  the 
second  son  of  Edward  IV. ;  but  how 
his  birth  was  ascertained,  or  in  what 
manner  he  accounted  for  his  escape 
from  the  Tower,  when  Edward  V. 
was  murdered,2  or  where  he  had  lived 
during  the  last  seven  years,  though 
questions  which  must  have  been  asked, 
are  secrets  which  have  never  been 
explained.  To  such  inquiries,  how- 
ever, he  gave  answers  which  satisfied 
the  credulity  of  his  friends ;  and,  as 
the  English  settlers  were  warmly 
tittached  to  the  house  of  York, 
O'Water,  the  late  mayor  of  Cork, 
t-asily  induced  the  citizens  to  declare 
m  his  favour.  An  attempt  was  even 
made  to  secure  the  assistance  of  the 
earl  of  Kildare,  and  of  his  kinsman 
the  earl  of  Desmond,  formerly  the 
great  supporters  of  the  white  rose. 


The  latter  declared  in  favour  of  Per- 
kin :  the  former,  who  had  lately  been 
disgraced  by  Henry,  returned  an  am- 
biguous but  courteous  answer.  The 
adventurer  had  yet  no  apparent  rea- 
son to  be  displeased  with  his  recep- 
tion ;  when  he  suddenly  accepted  an 
invitation  from  the  ministers  of 
Charles  VIII.,  to  visit  France,  and 
place  himself  under  the  protection  of 
that  monarch.  He  was  received  by 
the  king  as  the  real  duke  of  York, 
and  the  rightful  heir  to  the  English 
throne.  For  his  greater  security  a 
guard  of  honour  was  allotted  to  him 
under  the  command  of  the  lord  of 
Concressault  ;3  and  the  English  exiles 
and  outlaws,  to  the  number  of  one 
hundred,  offered  him  their  services 
by  their  agent  Sir  George  Neville. 
Henry  was  perplexed  and  alarmed. 
He  hastened  to  sign  the  peace  with 
the  French  monarch;  and  Charles 
instantly  ordered  the  adventurer  to 
quit  his  dominions.  This  order  be- 
trays the  real  object  of  the  counte- 
nance which  had  been  given  to  his 
pretensions;  perhaps  it  may  explain 
why  he  made  his  appearance  at  that 
particular  period.4 

Leaving  France,  he  soHcited  the 
protection  of  Margaret,  the  dowager 
duchess  of  Burgundy,  who  received 
him  with  joy,  appointed  him  a  guard 
of  thirty  halberdiers,  and  gave  him 
the  surname  of  "  The  white  rose  of 
England."  Her  conduct  revived  the 
alarm  of  the  king  and  the  hopes  of 
his  enemies.  Could  the  aunt,  it  was 
asked,  be  deceived  as  to  the  identity 
of  her  nephew?  Or  would  so  vir- 
tuous a  princess  countenance  an  im- 
postor ?  Henry  spared  neither  pains 
nor  expense  to  unravel  the  mystery. 
His  agents  were  distributed  through 


*  Eym,  xii.  490-508.  Bacon,  63.  Kot. 
Parl.  vi.  507. 

z  Even  those  who  assert  that  this  adven- 
turer was  the  real  duke  of  York  agreed  that 
Edward  V.  was  dead,  as  he  never  appeared, 
nor  did  any  one  ever  take  his  name. 

3  Of  a  Scotch  family  of  the  name  of  Moni- 


peny.  If  I  understand  rightly  a  letter  of 
Ramsey  Lord  Bothwell,  Concressault  told 
him  that  he  and  the  admiral  of  France  had 
made  many  inquiries  respecting  the  birth  of 
the  adventurer,  but  to  no  purpose.  See 
the  letter  in  Pinkerton's  Scotland,  ii.  438. 
Ellis,  i.3  8.  *  Hall,  30,  31.  Polyd.  582. 

L  2 


118 


HENilY  VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


foe  towns  and  villages  of  Flanders, 
and  valuable  rewards  were  offered 
for  the  slightest  information.  The 
Yorkists  were  equally  active.  Their 
secret  agent  Sir  Robert  Clifford  was 
permitted  to  see  "the  white  rose," 
and  to  hear  from  the  pretender  and 
his  aunA  the  history  of  his  adventures. 
He  assured  his  employers  in  England 
that  the  claim  of  the  new  duke  of 
York  was  indisputable;  while  the 
royal  emissaries  reported  that  his  real 
name  was  Perkin  Warbeck ;  that  he 
was  born  of  respectable  parents  in  the 
city  of  Tournay;  that  he  had  fre- 
quented the  company  of  the  English 
merchants  in  Flanders,  and  had  some 
time  before  sailed  from  Middleburgh 
to  Lisbon  in  the  service  of  Lady 
Brompton,  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
outlaws.1 

With  this  clue  Henry  was  satisfied, 
and  despatched  Sir  Edward  Poynings 
and  Dr.  Warham  as  his  ambassadors 
to  the  archduke  Philip,  the  sovereign 
of  Burgundy.  Their  ostensible  object 
was  to  renew  the  treaties  between  En- 
gland and  the  Netherlands :  but  their 
secret  instructions  commissioned  them 
to  demand  the  surrender,  or,  if  that 
could  not  be  obtained,  the  expulsion  of 
"Warbeck.  The  ministers  of  the  arch- 
duke were  divided ;  some  maintain- 
ing the  identity,  others  the  imposture 
of  the  pretender.  An  answer  was  ulti- 
mately returned,  that  Philip,  through 
friendship  for  the  king,  would  abstain 
from  affording  aid  to  his  enemy,  but 
that  he  could  not  control  the  duchess, 
who  was  absolute  mistress  within  the 
lands  of  her  dower.  Henry,  to  mani- 
fest his  displeasure,  withdrew  the  mart 
of  English  cloth  from  Antwerp  to 
Calais,  and  strictly  prohibited  all 
intercourse  between  the  two  coun- 
tries.* 

Clifford,  and  Barley  his  associate, 
had  gone  to  Flanders  as  the  envoys  of 


the  Yorkists ;  others,  spies  in  the  pay 
of  Henry,  repaired  to  Brussels  under 
the  pretence  of  testifying  their  attach- 
ment to  the  new  duke  of  York.  These, 
the  moment  they  had  wormed  them- 
selves into  the  confidence  of  the 
adventurer,  betrayed  to  the  king  all 
his  secrets,  with  tlie  names  of  his 
partisans.  The  consequence  was,  that 
on  the  same  day  the  lord  Fitzwalter, 
Sir  Simon  Mountford,  Sir  Thomas 
Thwaites,  Robert  Ratcliffe,  "William 
Daubeney,  Thomas  Cressemer,  Thomas 
Atwood,  and  several  clergymen,  were 
apprehended  on  the  charge  of  high 
treason.  Their  correspondence  with 
the  friends  of  the  pretender  in  Flan- 
ders was  considered  a  sufficient  proof 
of  their  guilt;  and  all  received  judg- 
ment of  death.  Mountford,  Thwaites, 
and  Ratcliffe,  suffered  immediately ; 
Lord  Fitzwalter  was  imprisoned  at 
Calais,  where  three  years  later  he  for- 
feited his  life  by  an  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  escape.  The  rest  were 
pardoned ;  but  this  act  of  vigour 
astonished  and  dismayed  the  un- 
known friends  of  the  adventurer, 
many  of  whom,  conscious  of  their 
guilt,  and  sensible  that  their  associates 
had  been  betrayed,  fled  for  security 
to  the  different  sanctuaries.3 

There  remained,  however,  one  who, 
while  he  flattered  himself  that  he 
possessed  a  high  place  in  the  royal 
favour,  had  been  secretly  marked  out 
for  destruction.  After  the  festivities 
of  Christmas,  Henry  repaired  with 
his  court  to  the  Tower.  Clifford, 
whose  fidelity  had  been  corrupted  by 
promises  and  presents,  arrived  from 
Flanders,  was  introduced  to  the  king 
in  council,  and  on  his  knees  obtained 
a  full  pardon.  Being  exhorted  to 
prove  his  repentance  by  discovering 
what  he  knew  of  the  conspiracy,  he 
accused  the  lord  chamberlain,  Sir 
William  Stanley.  The  king  started 


1  Hall,  31,  32. 
8  Kym.  xii.  544. 


11*11,33.    Polyd.  53k 


Rot.  Parl.  Ti.  503,  504.    Hall,  34. 


A.D.  1495.] 


DEFEAT  OF  \YARBECK. 


with  affected  horror,  and  refused  to 
give  credit  to  the  charge.  To  Sir 
William  ho  was  indebted  hoth  for 
his  crown  and  his  life.  At  the  battle 
of  Bosworth,  when  he  was  on  the 
point  of  sinking  under  the  pressure 
of  the  enemy,  that  nobleman  had 
rescued  him  from  danger,  and  had 
secured  to  him  the  victory.  But 
Clifford  repeated  the  accusation  with 
greater  boldness,  and  Henry,  out  of 
apparent  tenderness  to  his  friend, 
desired  Sir  William  to  confine  him- 
self to  his  apartment  in  the  square 
tower,  and  to  reserve  his  defence  till 
his  examination  on  the  following 
morning.  Whether  it  arose  from 
consciousness  of  guilt,  or  from  con- 
fidence in  his  past  services,  the 
prisoner  confessed  the  truth  of  the 
charge ;  on  that  confession  he  was 
arraigned  and  condemned  at  West- 
minster ;  and  after  a  decent  interval 
suffered  the  punishment  of  decapi- 
tation. His  death  gave  rise  to  con- 
tradictory reports.  By  some  it  was 
said  that  he  had  supplied  the  pre- 
tender with  money ;  by  others,  that 
when  he  was  solicited  to  declare  for 
him,  he  had  replied :  "  Were  I  sure 
that  he  was  the  son  of  Edward,  I 
would  never  fight  against  him."1 
This  at  least  is  probable,  that  unless 
he  had  been  really  entangled  in  the 
conspiracy,  Henry  would  never  have 
proceeded  to  the  execution  of  a  noble- 
man to  whom  he  was  under  so  many 
obligations ;  but  the  general  opinion 
of  the  king's  avarice  provoked  a  sus- 
picion that  the  enormous  wealth  of 
the  prisoner  was  the  chief  obstacle  to 
his  pardon.  By  his  death,  plate  and 
money  to  the  value  of  forty  thousand 


pounds,  with  lands  to  the  amount  of 
three  thousand  pounds  a  year,  de* 
volved  to  the  crown.  A  reward  of 
five  hundred  pounds  had  already 
been  given  to  Clifford;  but  he  was 
never  afterwards  trusted  by  Henry.2 

Three  years  had  now  elapsed  since 
the  pretender  first  set  forth  his 
claim ;  and  yet,  during  that  long 
interval,  he  had  never  made  any 
attempt  to  establish  it  by  legal  proof, 
or  to  enforce  it  by  an  appeal  to  the 
sword.  This  protracted  delay,  the 
accounts  which  had  been  published 
of  his  country  and  parentage,  the 
punishment  of  his  friends  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  pacification  of  Ireland, 
made  his  cause  appear  desperate ;  and 
both  the  Flemish,  whose  commerce 
had  been  suspended  on  his  account, 
and  the  archduke,  whose  treasury 
suffered  from  the  deficiency  of  the 
customs,  began  to  complain  of  the 
countenance  which  he  had  hitherto 
received  from  the  duchess  Mar- 
garet. In  this  emergency  he  sailed 
from  the  coast  of  Flanders  with  a 
few  hundreds  of  adventurers  attached 
to  his  fortunes,  and  while  Henry  was 
on  a  visit  to  his  mother  at  Latham, 
in  Lancashire,  made  a  descent  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Deal.  But  the 
inhabitants,  either  believing  him  an 
impostor,  or  urged  by  the  fear  of  in- 
curring the  royal  displeasure,  attacked 
the  invaders,  made  one  hundred  and 
sixty-nine  prisoners,  and  drove  the 
remainder  into  their  boats.  All  the 
captives  were  hanged  by  the  order  of 
Henry,  some  in  London,  and  others 
in  different  parts  of  the  coast.3  War- 
beck,  despairing  of  success  in  Eng- 
land, sailed  to  Ireland,  and  with  the 


*  Polyd.  Virg.  585.  Andre"  says  that  he 
had  not  only  sent  money  to  the  pretender, 
hut  ilium  tutari  et  in  regnum  adducere  pro- 
miserat. — MS.  Dom.  A.  xviii.  The  indict- 
ment charges  him  with  having  consented  to 
the  mission  of  Clifford,  ana  promised  to 
receive  and  aid  such  persons  as  Clifford 
should  send  to  him  with  a  private  sign. — 
flowell,  State  Trials,  ui.  366. 


2  Eot.  Parl.  vi.  504.    Fab.  630.    Hall,  35. 
Bacon,  76—78.    Speed,  ex  MS.    Bern.  An- 
drese,  974.    Excerp.  Hist.  100.    From  the 

Erivy  purse  expenses  it  appears  that  the 
ing  sent  101.  to  Sir  William  Stanley  at  his 
execution,  and  paid  171. 19s.  for  his  funeral 
at  Syon.— Ibid.  101,  102. 

3  Fab.  530.    Hall,  37.    Stowe,  479.    Eot. 
Parl.  vi.  504.    Polyd.  589. 


150 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


aid  of  the  earl  of  Desmond  laid  siege 
to  "Waterford.  Sir  Edward  Poynings 
was  lord  deputy  for  Henry,  duke  of 
York,  the  king's  second  son,  only  four 
years  of  age.  He  immediately  raised 
the  royal  standard,  hastened  to  Water- 
ford,  and  compelled  Per  kin  to  flee 
with  the  loss  of  three  of  his  ships. 
This  second  failure  extinguished  the 
hopes  of  the  adventurer ;  it  was  some 
consolation  to  him  that  he  had  still 
the  good  fortune  to  regain  his  former 
asylum.1 

Henry  now  thought  it  expedient 
to  summon  parliaments  both  in  Ire- 
land and  England.  In  the  Irish 
parliament,  statutes  were  enacted  to 
free  the  lower  classes  of  inhabitants 
from  the  grievous  impositions  of 
coyne  and  livery ;  to  break  the 
power  of  the  great  lords  by  the 
prohibition  of  maintenance ;  to  pre- 
serve the  English  ascendancy  within 
the  pale  by  the  revival  of  the  sta- 
tutes of  Kilkenny  ;2  and  to  provide 
for  the  good  government  of  the  Eng- 
lish domains  by  giving  to  all  statutes 
"  lately  made  in  England,  and  be- 
longing to  the  public  weal  of  the 
same."  the  force  of  law  in  Ireland. 
As  the  people  had  been  harassed  by 
frequent  parliaments,  in  which  ordi- 
nances were  repeatedly  made  for  the 
sole  profit  of  the  chief  governor,  or 
of  the  party  which  he  espoused,  it 
was  enacted  that  for  the  future  no 
parliament  should  be  holden  till  the 
king  had  been  informed,  by  the  lieu- 
tenant and  council,  of  the  necessity 
of  the  same,  and  of  the  acts  intended 
to  be  passed  in  it,  and  had  previously 
given  his  licence  and  approbation 
under  the  great  seal.3  In  these  pro- 
visions the  deputy  appears  to  have 
had  no  other  object  than  the  welfare 


of  the  state ;  but  he  was  thought  to 
have  been  swayed  by  private  con- 
siderations in  the  act  of  attainder 
which  he  procured  against  the  earl 
of  Kildare,  his  family,  and  adherents. 
Henry,  however,  whose  object  it  was 
to  strengthen  his  interest  in  the  sister 
island,  accepted  the  apology  offered 
by  Kildare,  and  received  him  again 
to  favour.  The  earl  of  Desmond, 
whose  guilt  was  less  ambiguous,  had 
previously  submitted,  had  given  one 
of  his  sons  as  a  hostage  for  his  fidelity, 
and  had  taken  a  second  time  the  oath 
of  allegiance.  A  free  pardon  was 
afterwards  granted  to  the  rest  of  the 
natives,  with  the  exception  of  Lord 
Barry  and  O'Water,  and  tranquillity 
was  fully  restored  in  the  island.4 

In  the  English  parliament  a  bill  of 
attainder  was  passed,  at  the  king's 
request,  against  twenty-one  gentle- 
men who  had  suffered,  or  had  been 
condemned,  for  their  adhesion  to  tho 
pretender.  The  other  acts  of  tho 
session  were  to  ratify  the  peace  of 
Estaples,  according  to  one  of  the 
articles  of  the  treaty  ;5  and  to  enact 
the  penalty  of  forfeiture  against  all 
persons  holding  fees,  annuities,  or 
offices  from  the  crown  (and  to  these 
were  afterwards  added  all  possessing 
lands,  hereditaments,  and  honours 
by  letters  patent),6  who  should  neg- 
lect to  attend  in  person  the  king  in 
his  wars.  But  the  nation  had  now 
grown  weary  of  civil  dissension.  The 
extinction  or  beggary  of  so  many 
noble  and  opulent  families  had  proved 
a  useful  lesson  to  the  existing  gene- 
ration ;  and  men  betrayed  a  reluct- 
ance to  engage  in  contests  in  which 
they  knew  from  experience  that  they 
must  either  gain  the  ascendancy,  or 
lose  their  lives  or  their  fortunes.  To 


1  Sir  Frederic  Madden  was  the  first  to 
Call  attention  to  this  attempt  on  the  part  of 
Perkin.— See  Archaeol.  xxvii,  170. 

2  That  forbidding  the  use   of  the   Irish 
language  was  excepted;   a  proof  that  the 
English  settlers  had  by  this  time  generally 
adopted  it. 


3  On  Poyning's  law,  I  have  followed  the 
opinion  of  Leland,  ii.  App.  512 — 516. 

*  Hot.  Parl.  MI.  482.  Eym.  xii.  558—562, 
634.  Stat.  of  Eealm,  ii.  6] 2. 

s  Rot.  Parl.  vi.  503—508.    Eym.  xii.  710. 

6  Ibid.  vi.  525. 


A.D.  1496.  J 


WAEBECK.  INVADES  ENGLAND. 


151 


obviate  these  disastrous  consequences 
a  statute  was  made,  declaring  that  no 
one  who  should  attend  on  the  king  and 
sovereign  lord  for  the  time  being,  to 
do  him  faithful  service  in  the  wars, 
should  hereafter,  on  that  account, 
whatever  might  be  the  fortune  of 
battle,  be  attainted  of  treason,  or 
incur  the  penalty  of  forfeiture.  That 
this  act  might  be  set  aside  by  the 
avarice  or  the  resentment  of  a  suc- 
cessful competitor  was  indeed  evident: 
yet  it  was  perhaps  the  best  remedy 
that  could  be  devised  for  the  evil ; 
and  a  hope  was  cherished,  both  from 
the  reasonableness  of  the  measure, 
and  from  the  benefits  which  it  pro- 
mised to  all  parties,  that  in  future 
contests  it  would  be  generally  re- 
spected.1 

The  repulse  of  Warbeck  in  his  late 
expedition,  and  the  complaint  of  the 
Flemish  merchants,  induced  the  arch- 
duke to  solicit  a  reconciliation  with 
Henry;  and,  after  a  few  conferences 
between  their  respective  envoys,  the 
"great  treaty  of  commerce  between 
England  and  the  Netherlands"  was 
signed.  By  it  every  facility  was 
afforded  to  the  trade  of  the  two 
•countries ;  but  there  was  appended 
to  it  a  provision,  which  from  this 
period  Henry  inserted  in  every  treaty 
with  foreign  sovereigns,  that  each  of 
the  contracting  parties  should  banish 
from  his  dominions  the  known  ene- 
mies of  the  other;  and  to  preclude 
the  possibility  of  evasion  in  the  pre- 
sent instance,  it  was  expressly  stipu- 
lated that  Philip  should  not  permit 
the  duchess  to  aid  or  harbour  the 
king's  rebels,  but  should  deprive  her 
of  her  domains  if  she  acted  in  oppo- 
sition to  this  engagement.2  Warbeck 
could  no  longer  remain  in  Flanders ; 


he  sailed  to  Cork;  but  the  Irish  re- 
fused to  venture  their  lives  in  his 
service.  From  Cork  he  passed  to 
Scotland,  and  exhibited,  ifc  is  said, 
to  the  king,  recommendatory  letters 
from  Charles  VIII.  and  his  friend 
the  duchess  of  Burgundy.  James 
received  the  adventurer  with  kind- 
ness, saying  that  whosoever  he  might 
be,  he  should  not  repent  of  bis 
confidence  in  the  king  of  Scotland. 
Afterwards  by  advice  of  his  council 
he  paid  to  him  the  honours  due  to 
the  prince  whose  character  he  had 
assumed ;  and  to  evince  the  sincerity 
of  his  friendship,  gave  to  him  in 
marriage  his  near  relation,  the  lady 
Catherine  Gordon,  daughter  to  the 
earl  of  Huntly.3 

This  sudden  improvement  in  the 
fortune  of  the  adventurer  renewed  the 
jealousy  and  apprehensions  of  the  king, 
who  had  good  reason  to  suspect  the 
enmity  of  James.  That  prince,  fifteen 
years  of  age,  had  been  placed  on  the 
throne  by  the  murderers  of  his  father, 
a  faction  hostile  to  the  interests  of 
England ;  and  Henry  had  in  con- 
sequence entered  into  engagements 
with  a  party  of  the  Scottish  nobles, 
their  oDponents,  who  undertook  to 
seize  the  person  of  the  young  sove- 
reign, and  to  conduct  him  to  London.4 
Now,  however,  Fox,  bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, was  commissioned  to  open  a 
negotiation,  and  to  tempt  the  fidelity 
of  James  with  the  offer  of  an  English 
princess  in  marriage.  But  he  listened 
rather  to  the  suggestions  of  resent- 
ment or  ambition,  and  demanded  as 
the  price  of  his  forbearance  terms  to 
which  the  king  refused  his  assent. 
Fox  was  followed  by  Concressault,  as 
ambassador  from  the  French  mon- 
arch, who  proposed  that  all  subjects 


1  Stat.  of  Realm,  ii.  568. 

2  Kym.  xii.  579—591. 

a  Polyd.  593.  Hall,  38,  39.  Stowe,  479. 
Speed, 977. 

4  llym.  xii.  440.  Pink.  Scot.  ii.  App.  1. 
I  see  no  reason  to  charge  Henry  on  this 
occasion  with  hostile  or  dishonest  intentions 


towards  the  young  king  of  Scots.  The  per- 
son who  applied  to  Henry  for  aid  was  John 
Lord  Bothwell,  the  favourite  of  the  mur- 
dered monarch,  and  the  negotiator  cf  the 
intended  marriages  between  the  royal  family 
of  Scotland  and  the  English  queen  dowager 
and  her  daughters, 


152 

of  dispute  between  the  two  kings 
should  be  referred  to  the  decision  of 
his  sovereign;  and  when  that  was 
refused,  offered  him  one  hundred 
thousand  crowns  for  the  person  of 
the  adventurer,  to  be  sent  as  a  cap- 
tive into  France.1  The  bribe  was  in- 
dignantly rejected  by  James,  who 
coined  his  plate  into  money,  obtained 
a  small  supply  from  the  duchess  of 
Burgundy,  and  engaged  to  place  the 
pretender  on  the  throne,  on  condition 
that  he  should  receive  as  the  reward 
of  his  services  the  town  of  Berwick, 
and  the  sum  of  fifty  thousand  marks  in 
two  years.2  Warbeck  had  mustered 
under  his  standard  fourteen  hundred 
men,  outlaws  from  all  nations;  to 
these  James  added  all  the  forces  it 
was  in  his  power  to  raise ;  and  the 
combined  army  crossed  the  borders 
in  the  depth  of  winter,  and  when  no 
preparation  had  been  made  to  oppose 
them.  They  were  preceded  by  a  pro- 
clamation, in  which  the  adventurer 
styled  himself  Richard,  by  the  grace 
of  God  king  of  England  and  France, 
lord  of  Ireland,  and  prince  of  Wales. 
It  narrated  in  general  terms  his 
escape  from  the  Tower,  his  wander- 
ings in  foreign  countries,  the  usur- 
pation of  "  Henry  Tydder,"  the  at- 
tempts to  debauch  the  fidelity  of 
his  confidants,  the  execution  and 
attainder  of  his  friends  in  England, 
and  the  protection  which  he  had 
received  from  the  king  of  Scots.  He 
was  now  in  England,  accompanied  by 
that  monarch,  for  the  purpose  of 
reclaiming  his  right;  and  James, 
whose  only  object  was  to  assist  him, 
had  engaged  to  retire  the  moment 
that  he  should  be  joined  by  a  com- 
petent number  of  natives.  He  there- 
fore called  on  every  true  Englishman 


VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


to  arm  in  his  cause ;  and  promised  to* 
the  man  who  should  "  take  or  distress 
Henry  Tydder"  a  reward  propor- 
tioned to  his  condition,  "so  as  the 
most  low  and  simplest  of  degree/ 
should  have  for  his  labour  one  thou- 
sand pounds  in  money,  and  lands 
to  the  yearly  value  of  one  hundred 
marks  to  him  and  his  heirs  for  ever."* 
But  the  proclamation  had  no  effect. 
The  novelty  of  the  thing  had  worn 
away,  and  not  a  sword  was  unsheathed 
in  favour  of  the  white  rose.  The 
Scots,  to  console  their  disappoint- 
ment, and  to  repay  themselves  for 
their  trouble,  pillaged  the  country 
without  mercy,  and  returned,  laden, 
with  spoil,  to  their  homes. 

As  soon  as  the  intelligence  of  this 
invasion  reached  Henry,  he  ordered 
Daubeney,  the  lord  chamberlain,  to 
raise  forces,  summoned  a  great  coun- 
cil, and  afterwards  a  parliament,  and 
obtained  a  grant  of  two  tenths  and 
two  fifteenths.4  In  most  counties  the 
tax  was  levied  without  opposition ;  in 
Cornwall  the  people,  inflamed  by  the 
harangues  of  Flaminock,  an  attorney,, 
and  of  Joseph,  a  farrier,  flew  to  arms ; 
refused  to  pay  their  money  for  an 
object  which,  it  was  pretended,  did 
not  concern  them,  but  the  natives  of 
the  northern  counties ;  and  resolved, 
to  the  number  of  sixteen  thousand 
men,  to  demand  of  the  king  the 
punishment  of  Archbishop  Morton 
and  Sir  Eeginald  Grey,  the  supposed 
originators  of  this  unjustifiable  im- 
post. The  misguided  multitude  com- 
menced their  march;  at  Wells  they 
were  joined  by  the  lord  Audley,  who. 
placed  himself  at  their  head,  and  con- 
ducted them  through  Salisbury  and 
Winchester  into  Kent.  Opposed  by 
the  gentlemen  of  the  county,  ha 


i  Was  it  Charles,  who  wished  to  get  pos- 
session of  Warbeck,  or  Henry,  who  made 
the  offer  through  Charles  ?  It  is  certain 
that  the  ambassador  was  sent  at  the  instance 
cf  Henry.— Pink.  Scot.  ii.  App.  1,  ibid. 

*  All  these  particulars  are  taken  from  a 


letter  of  Lord  Bothwell.— Ibid.  Ellis,  i.  25. 
32. 

3  This  proclamation  is  printed  in  Henry, 
xii.  App.  i.  p.  387.  It  is  much  altered  bj 
Bacon,  87. 

*  Hot;  Parl.  vi.  513-519. 


A.D.  1491.] 


INSURRECTION  IN  CORNWALL.* 


turned  towards  London,  and  en- 
camped on  Blackheath  in  sight  of 
the  capital.  But  Henry  had  by  this 
time  been  joined  by  most  of  the 
southern  nobility,  and  by  the  troops 
that  had  been  previously  raised 
against  the  Scots.  On  a  Saturday 
(the  king  superstitiously  believed  that 
Saturday  was  his  fortunate  day),  the 
lord  chamberlain  marched  to  attack 
the  insurgents ;  while  the  earl  of 
Oxford  made  a  circuit  to  fall  on  their 
rear ;  and  Henry  with  the  artillery 
waited  in  St.  George's  Fields  the 
event  of  the  battle.  The  Cornish 
archers  defended  with  obstinacy  the 
bridge  at  Deptford  Strand;  but  the 
moment  it  was  forced,  the  insurgents 
fled  in  despair.  Two  thousand  were 
killed:  fifteen  hundred  were  taken. 
Lord  Audley  lost  his  head ;  Flammock 
and  Joseph  were  hanged;1  the  rest 
obtained  a  pardon  from  the  king,  and 
were  allowed  to  compound  for  their 
liberty  with  their  captors,  on  the  best 
terms  in  their  power.  This  lenity,  so 
unusual  in  Henry,  was  attributed  by 
some  to  policy,  and  a  desire  to  attach 
to  his  cause  the  men  of  Cornwall; 
by  others  to  gratitude  for  the  life  of 
the  lord  chamberlain,  whom  the 
insurgents  had  made  prisoner  at 
the  commencement  of  the  action, 
and  had  restored  to  liberty  without 
ransom. 

While  the  attention  of  the  king 
was  occupied  by  the  Cornish  insur- 
gents, James  again  crossed  the  bor- 
ders, and  laid  siege  to  the  castle  of 
Norham,  while  his  light  troops 
scoured  the  country  as  far  as  the 
Tees.  But  the  earl  of  Surrey,  with 
twenty  thousand  men,  was  now 
hastening  towards  the  north.  The 
plunderers  cautiously  retired  as  he 
advanced;  James  abandoned  the 
siege;  and  Surrey  retaliated  on  the 
Scottish  borderers  the  injuries  which 


they  had  inflicted  on  their  English 
neighbours.  The  failure  of  this  second 
expedition,  with  the  news  of  the  de- 
feat of  the  Cornishmen,  induced  the 
king  of  Scots  to  listen  to  the  sugges- 
tion of  Don  Pedro  Ayala,  the  Spanish 
ambassador,  who  laboured  with  earn- 
estness to  reconcile  the  two  monarohs. 
Commissioners  met  at  Aytoun  in 
Scotland ;  Eox,  the  chief  of  the  Eng- 
lish envoys,  was  ordered  by  his  pri- 
vate instruction  to  insist  on  the 
delivery  of  Perkin,  because, "  though 
the  delyveraunce,  or  the  havyng  of 
hym  was  of  no  price  or  value,  yet  it 
was  necessary  to  save  the  honour  of 
the  English  king  :  and  if  that  could 
not  be  obtained,  that  at  least  James 
should  send  to  him  an  embassy,  and 
consent  to  meet  him  at  Newcastle." 
To  these  demands  the  Scottish  princa 
demurred ;  Ayala  then  came  forward 
as  mediator,  and  James,  satisfied 
with  his  impartiality,  intrusted  the 
interest  of  his  crown  to  the  discre- 
tion of  the  Spaniard.  A  truce  was 
concluded  for  seven  years,  and  sub- 
sequently prolonged  by  Ayala  to  the 
termination  of  one  year  after  the- 
death  of  the  survivor  of  the  two  mon- 
archs.  Still  there  remained  some 
damands  on  the  part  of  Henry,  which 
James  considered  derogatory  from  his 
honour;  but  the  difficulty  was  sur- 
mounted by  the  ingenuity  of  Ayala, 
who  proposed  that  these  questions 
should  be  referred  to  the  impartial 
decision  of  the  Spanish  monarch.2 

The  enthusiasm  which  had  been 
excited  by  the  first  appearance  of 
Warbeck  in  Scotland  had  long  been 
on  the  decline ;  and  about  the  time  of 
themeetingof  the  commissioners, whe- 
ther it  were  that  he  saw  the  current' 
of  public  opinion  setting  against  him,.' 
or  hoped  to  profit  by  the  troubles  in 
Cornwall,  or  had  received  a  hint  from 
his  royal  protector  (for  all  these  rea- 


1  Joseph  said  he  cared  not ;  for  his  name 
would  be  immortal.— Polyd.  694. 


2  Rym.   xii.  671,  673—680.     Transcripts- 
for  New  Kym.  82.   Polydore,  695.   Hall,  45- 


154 

sons  have  been  assigned),  he  departed 
from  Scotland  with  four  ships  and  six 
score  companions.  He  first  touched 
at  Cork,  and  solicited  in  vain  the  aid 
•sf  the  earl  of  Desmond.  From  Cork 
ne  directed  his  course  across  the 
channel  to  Whitsand  Bay ;  and  pro- 
ceeding by  land  to  Bodmin,  unfurled 
the  standard  of  Richard  IV.  The 
men  of  Cornwall  had  not  acquired 
wisdom  from  their  recent  defeat. 
Three  thousand  offered  their  services 
to  the  adventurer ;  and  that  number 
was  doubled  before  he  reached  the 
city  of  Exeter.  Here  he  formed  his 
army  into  two  divisions,  with  which 
he  attempted  to  force  his  way  by  the 
only  entrance  into  the  city,  the  east 
and  north  gates.  From  one  he  was 
repulsed  with  considerable  loss ;  the 
other  he  reduced  to  ashes;  but  the 
citizens  fed  the  fire  with  fresh  fuel  till 
they  had  dug  a  deep  trench  behind  it, 
between  themselves  and  the  enemy. 
On  the  next  morning  Warbeck  re- 
turned to  the  assault ;  but  the  loss  of 
two  hundred  men,  and  the  arrival  of 
aid  to  the  besieged  from  the  country, 
.induced  him  to  solicit  a  suspension  of 
hostilities,  during  which  he  withdrew 
his  followers.  Many  of  these  now 
abandoned  him;  but  the  Cornish 
men  advised  him  not  to  despair ;  and 
he  had  reached  Taunton,  when  he 
was  apprised  of  the  approach  of  the 
royal  army  under  the  lord  chamber- 
lain, and  Lord  Brooke,  the  steward 
of  the  household.  During  the  day 
the  adventurer,  with  great  compo- 
sure of  countenance,  made  prepa- 
rations for  battle ;  but  his  heart  failed 
him  at  the  sight  of  the  royal  standard ; 
and  at  midnight,  leaving  his  followers 
to  their  fate,  he  rode  away,  with  a 
guard  of  sixty  men,  to  the  sanctuary 
ofBeaulieu,  in  Hampshire.  In  the 


IIEN11Y  VII.  [CHIP.  V 

morning  the  insurgents  submitted  to 
the  royal  mercy.  The  ringleaders 
were  hanged:  the  crowd,  on  the 
arrival  of  Henry  at  Exeter  were, 
led,  bareheaded  and  with  halters 
round  their  necks,  into  his  presence, 
and  discharged  after  a  suitable  admo- 
nition; and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
villages  in  which  Warbeck  had  ob- 
tained either  aid  or  refreshment 
were  amerced  in  proportionate  sums 
of  money  to  the  amount  of  ten  thou- 
sand pounds.  The  pretender's  wife, 
the  lady  Catherine  Gordon,  who  had 
been  left  at  Mount  St.  Michael,  sub- 
mitted at  the  first  summons.  When 
she  was  introduced  to  the  king,  she 
blushed  and  burst  into  tears ; '  but 
he  relieved  her  apprehensions,  and 
sent  her  to  the  queen,  with  whom 
she  afterwards  lived  as  an  attendant, 
still  retaining,  on  account  of  her 
beauty,  the  appellation  of  "  the  white 
rose,"  which  she  had  originally  de- 
rived from  the  pretensions  of  her 
husband.2 

In  the  sanctuary  of  Beaulieu 
the  fugitive  had  leisure  to  reflect 
on  his  melancholy  situation.  He 
saw  the  abbey  constantly  surrounded 
with  a  guard ;  he  was  repeatedly 
tempted  to  leave  it  by  promises  of 
pardon ;  and,  after  a  severe  struggle, 
resolved  to  throw  himself  on  the 
mercy  of  the  conqueror.  The  king 
did  not  violate  his  word,  but  refused 
to  admit  him  into  his  presence.  When 
he  returned  to  London,  Warbeck 
rode  in  his  suite,  surrounded  by  mul- 
titudes, who  gazed  with  wonder  at 
the  man,  whose  claim  and  adventures 
had  so  long  engaged  their  attention. 
He  was  conducted  as  a  spectacle 
through  the  principal  streets  of  the 
city ;  ordered  to  confine  himself 
within  the  precincts  of  the  palace; 


1  Magno  cam  rubore  et  obortis  lacrymis. 
— Andr*,  MS.  Domit.  A.  xviii.  See  Ellis, 
Letters,  i.  34—7  j  Polyd.  597. 

>  Fab.  631.    Hall,  46,  47.    Bacon,  104. 


"The  white  rose"  was  afterwards  married 
to  Sir  Mathew  Cradock,  and  was  buried  with 
him  in  the  church  of  Swansea,  in  Wales, 
where  their  tomb  and  epitaph  are  still  to  be 
seen. — Histor.  Doubts,  addition. 


A.D.  1497.J 


WAEBECK  CONFESSES. 


165 


and  repeatedly  examined  before  a 
board  of  commissioners,  as  to  his 
parentage,  his  instructors,  and  his 
associates.  Whatever  disclosures  he 
made,  were  kept  secret ;  but  he  grew 
weary  of  his  confinement  in  the 
palace,  and  at  the  end  of  six  months 
contrived  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  his 
keepers.  The  alarm  was  instantly 
given ;  patrols  watched  every  road  to 
the  coast ;  and  the  fugitive,  in  despair 
of  success,  surrendered  himself  to  the 
prior  of  the  monastery  at  Shene.  The 
monk  encouraged  him  with  the  hopes 
of  pardon,  and  by  his  solicitations 
extorted  from  the  king  a  promise  to 
spare  the  life  of  the  suppliant.  But 
lie  was  compelled  to  stand  a  whole 
day  in  the  stocks  at  Westminster 
Hill,  and  the  next  in  Cheapside ;  and 
on  both  occasions  to  read  to  the 
people  a  confession  which  he  had 
signed  with  his  own  hand.  In  this 
barren  and  unsatisfactory  document 
he  acknowledged  that  he  was  a  native 
of  Tournay,  the  son  of  John  Osbeck 
and  Catherine  di  Faro;  gave  the 
names  and  professions  of  his  rela- 
tions, and  of  the  persons  with  whom 
he  had  lived  at  Antwerp,  Middle- 
burgh,  and  Lisbon;  and  stated  that 
on  his  arrival  at  Cork  he  was  taken 
first  for  Simnel,  who  had  personated 
the  earl  of  Warwick,  then  for  an 
illegitimate  son  of  Richard  III.,  and 
lastly  for  the  duke  of  York,  the 
second  son  of  Edward  IV. ;  that  he 
was  invited  into  France  by  Charles 
VIII. ;  "  from  France  he  went  into 
Ireland,  from  Ireland  into  Scotland 
and  so  into  England." '  It  is  plain 
that  this  confession  was  composed 
from  the  disclosures  which  he  had 


previously  made.  It  describes  witn 
minuteness  his  parentage  and  original 
occupation,  points  which  Henry 
wished  to  impress  on  the  minds  of 
the  people,  but  was  silent  on  subjects 
which  it  might  have  been  unpleasant 
or  impolitic  to  disclose,  his  transac- 
tions with  foreign  princes,  and  the 
assurances  of  support  which  he  had 
received  from  native  subjects.  After 
suffering  his  punishment  he  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower.2 

This  seems  to  have  been  the  age 
of  intrigue  and  imposture.  From  the 
capture  of  Simnel  to  the  appearance 
of  Warbeck,  Henry  had  been  kept  in 
constant  alarm  by  repeated  attempts 
in  favour  of  the  earl  of  Warwick. 
About  the  close  of  1498  a  plan  had 
been  adopted  to  liberate  that  prince 
from  prison ;  but  it  failed  through  the 
ignorance  of  the  conspirators,  who 
mistook  the  place  of  confinement.3 
The  following  year  a  new  plot  was 
contrived  in  the  council  of  the  king 
of  France,  who  sought  to  divert 
Henry  from  the  threatened  invasion 
of  his  dominions.  That  monarch  had 
expressed  his  regret  that  he  had  ever 
granted  assistance  to  the  usurper  of 
the  rights  of  the  house  of  York,  and 
offered  to  the  friends  of  the  earl  of 
Warwick  ships,  money,  and  troops, 
to  place  him  on  the  throne  of  his 
ancestors.  Letters  were  written  to 
the  retainers  of  his  father,  the  late 
duke  of  Clarence ;  Lady  Warwick  was 
solicited  to  favour  the  enterprise ;  and 
an  invitation  was  senfc  to  the  most 
distinguished  of  the  Yorkists  to 
repair  to  France  and  take  the  com- 
mand.4 When  this  attempt  also 
failed,  Warbeck  put  forth  his  claim 


1  Hall,  49,   60.      Grafton,  929.      Andre", 
Domit.  A.  xviii.    Andre"  was  pensioned  by 
Henry.— Rym.  in.  013.    His  evidence  (for 
he  says  the  confession  was  printed  by  order 
of  the  king)  proves  its  authenticity,  which 
Mr.  Laing  has   denied,  because  it  is  not 
mentioned  by  Fabyan  or  Polydore. — Hen. 
xii.  414. 

2  Hall,    ibid.      Fab.    632.      Stowe,    481. 
From  some  imaginary  improbabilities  in  the 


confessioo,  it  has  been  inferred  that  it  was 
a  mere  fiction  invented  by  Henry  and  hia 
ministers.  I  should  have  thought  that  they 
might  have  invented  a  fiction  of  that  de- 
scription without  crowding  it  with  impro- 
babilities. 3  Kot.  Parl.  vi.  437. 

*  Kot.  Parl.  456.  The  token  by  which  the 
conspirators  knew  each  other  was  H  par- 
ticular squeeze  of  the  thumb.— Ibid. 


156 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP. 


as  the  duke  of  York ;  and  as  long  as 
he  was  able  to  prosecute  it,  the  earl 
of  "Warwick  seemed  to  be  forgotten. 
Now  that  Warbeck  was  in  prison, 
the  rights  of  the  earl  were  again 
brought  forward;  and  a  person  of 
the  name  of  Ralph  Wulford  under- 
took to  personate  the  young  prince. 
He  was  taught  to  act  his  part  by 
Patrick,  an  Augustinian  friar,  and 
chose  the  county  of  Kent  for  the 
theatre  on  which  he  should  make 
his  first  appearance.  As  a  prepara- 
tory step,  a  report  was  circulated  of 
the  death  of  Warwick ;  after  a  short 
interval  the  pretender  whispered  in 
the  ears  of  a  few  confidants  that  he 
was  the  earl ;  and  soon  afterwards  his 
instructor  published  to  the  world  the 
important  secret  in  a  sermon.  It  is 
difficult  to  conceive  on  what  they 
could  ground  their  hope  of  success. 
Both  were  immediately  apprehended. 
the  friar  was  condemned  to  perpetual 
imprisonment;  Wulford  paid  with  his 
life  the  forfeit  of  his  temerity.1 

The  real  earl  of  Warwick,  and  the 
pretended  duke  of  York,  were  now 
fellow-prisoners  in  the  tower.  They 
soon  contracted  a  mutual  friendship, 
wept  over  their  common  misfortune, 
and  whether  it  originated  with  them- 
selves or  was  suggested  to  them  by 
others,  adopted  a  plan  for  their 
escape.  Four  of  the  warders  were 
gained  to  murder  the  governor,  and 
conduct  the  captives  to  a  place  of 
security,  where,  if  we  may  believe  the 
records  of  their  trials,  Warbeck  was 
to  be  again  proclaimed  by  the  title 
of  Richard  IV.,  and  Warwick  was  to 
summon  the  retainers  of  his  father  to 
the  standard  of  the  new  king.  War- 
beck  was  indicted  in  Westminster 
Hall,  as  a  foreigner,  guilty  of  acts 
of  treason  since  his  landing  in  Eng- 
land. He  received  sentence  of  death, 
and  at  the  place  of  execution  affirmed 


1  Hall,  50. 

2  HaH,  51.    Bacon,  110,  111.    Kot.  Parl. 
Ti.535. 


on  the  word  of  a  dying  man  the  truth 
of  every  particular  contained  in  his 
original  confession.  With  him  suf- 
fered his  first  adherent  O' Water ;  and 
both,  expressing  their  regret  for  the 
imposture,  asked  forgiveness  of  the 
king.  Before  their  punishment  the 
earl  of  Warwick  was  arraigned  at  the 
bar  of  the  house  of  lords.  Of  his  own 
accord  he  pleaded  guilty ;  the  earl  of 
Oxford  as  lord  steward  pronounced 
judgment;  and  after  a  few  days  Henry 
signed  the  warrant  for  the  execution 
of  the  last  legitimate  descendant  of 
the  Plantagenets,  whose  pretensions 
could  excite  the  jealousy  of  the  house 
of  Tudor.2 

Warwick  owed  his  death  to  the 
restless  ofliciousness  of  his  friends, 
who  by  repeated  attempts  had  con- 
vinced Henry  that  the  existence  of 
the  earl  was  incompatible  with  his 
own  safety.  Still  it  will  be  difficult 
to  clear  the  king  from  the  guilt  of 
shedding  innocent  blood.  This  vic- 
tim of  royal  suspicion  had  been 
confined  from  childhood  for  no  other 
crime  than  his  birth.  Certainly  he 
was  justified  in  attempting  to  recover 
his  liberty.  Had  he  even  been  guilty 
of  the  other  part  of  the  charge,  his- 
youth,  his  ignorance,  his  simplicity, 
and  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his 
situation,  ought  to  have  saved  him 
from  capital  punishment.3  The  whole 
nation  lamented  his  fate ;  and  to  re- 
move the  odium  from  the  king,  a 
report,  probably  false,  was  circulated 
that  Ferdinand  of  Spain  had  refused 
to  bestow  his  daughter  Catherine  on 
the  prince  of  Wales  as  long  as  so  near 
a  claimant  of  the  house  of  York  was- 
alive.  Catherine  herself  had  been  told 
of  the  report,  and  in  the  following 
reign  was  heard  to  observe  that  she 
could  never  oxpect  much  happiness 
from  her  union  with  the  family  of 
Tudor,  if  that  union  had  been  pur- 


3  I  see  nothing  in  the  ancient  authorities: 
to  prove  that  he  was  an  "  idiot." 


A.D.  1498.] 


TREATIES  WITH  SCOTLAND. 


167 


chased  at  the  price  of  royal  and  inno- 
cent blood.1 

vFrom  this  period  the  ambition  of 
Henry  was  no  more  alarmed  by  pre- 
tenders to  the  crown,  nor  his  avarice 
distressed  by  the  expense  of  foreign 
•expeditions.  The  principal  events  of 
his  reign  during  the  ten  years  of 
tranquillity  which  preceded  his  death, 
may  be  comprised  under  the  two 
heads,  of  his  treaties  with  other 
powers,  and  his  expedients  to  amass 
money. 

I.  1.  Henry  was  not  less  careful 
than  the  French  monarchs  to  pre- 
serve the  alliance  between  the  two 
crowns.  His  object  was  to  insure 
the  payment  of  the  annual  pension 
secured  to  him  by  the  treaty  of 
Estaples:  theirs  to  afford  him  no 
pretext  to  oppose  the  progress  of 
their  arms  in  the  conquest  of  Italy. 
In  1494  Charles  had  poured  a 
numerous  army  over  the  Alps  into 
the  plains  of  Lombardy ;  the  native 
princes  yielded  to  the  pressure  of  the 
torrent ;  and  in  a  few  months  Naples 
was  converted  into  a  province  of  the 
French  monarchy.  But  it  was  lost 
with  the  same  rapidity  with  which 
it  had  been  won.  The  pope,  the 
king  of  the  Romans,  the  king  of 
Castile,  the  duke  of  Milan,  and  the 
republic  of  Venice  entered  into  a 
league,  by  which  they  guaranteed 
to  each  other  their  respective  domi- 
nions ;  and  Charles  was  compelled  to 
abandon  his  conquest,  and  to  fight  his 
way  through  his  enemies,  that  he 
might  return  to  his  native  kingdom. 
The  next  year  Henry  acceded  to  the 
general  confederacy,  a  measure  which 
might  intimidate  the  French  king, 
and  by  intimidating,  cause  him  to 
be  more  punctual  in  the  discharge 
of  his  pecuniary  obligations.  In  1498 
Charles  died,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Louis  XII.  That  prince,  who  inhe- 


rited the  passion  of  his  predecessor 
for  the  conquest  of  Naples,  cheerfully 
ratified  the  treaty  of  Estaples,  bound 
himself  by  the  most  solemn  oaths  to 
pay  the  remainder  of  the  debt,  and 
signed  Henry's  favourite  stipulation, 
that  if  a  traitor  or  rebel  to  either 
prince  should  seek  refuge  in  the 
dominions  of  the  other,  he  should 
be  delivered  up  within  twenty  days 
at  the  requisition  of  the  offended 
party.2 

2.  The  truces  between  England  and 
Scotland,  though  frequently  renewea 
and  enforced  with  menaces  and  pun- 
ishments, were  but  ill  observed  by  the 
fierce  and  turbulent  inhabitants  o/' 
the  borders.  Soon  after  the  last 
pacification,  the  garrison  of  Norham 
grew  jealous  of  the  repeated  visits 
which  they  received  from  their  Scot- 
tish neighbours.  One  day  a  serious 
affray  was  the  consequence ;  and  the 
strangers,  after  losing  some  of  their 
fellows,  fled  for  protection  to  the 
nearest  post  of  their  countrymen. 
The  intelligence  was  received  with 
indignation  by  James,  who  instantly 
despatched  an  herald  to  Henry,  to 
announce  that  the  truce  was  at  an 
end;  and  a  war  must  have  ensued 
had  not  the  English  monarch  been 
as  phlegmatic  as  the  Scottish  was 
irritable.  Fox,  bishop  of  Durham, 
to  whom  the  castle  belonged,  first 
wrote  to  James,  and  afterwards 
visited  him  at  the  abbey  of  Melrose ; 
and  so  successful  were  tha  address 
and  eloquence  of  that  prelate,  that 
the  king  was  not  only  appeased,  but 
offered,  what  he  had  formerly  refused, 
to  marry  Margaret,  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter of  Henry.3  By  the  English  prince 
the  offer  was  most  joyfully  accepted ; 
and  when  some  of  his  council  ex- 
pressed a  fear  that  then,  in  failure 
of  the  male  line,  England  might  here- 
after become  an  appendage  to  the 


1  Hall,    51.     Bacon,  112.     See    Appen- 
dix, L. 


2  Rym.  xii.  638-642,  681-605. 

3  Hall,  48. 


168 


HENRY  VII. 


Scottish  crown,  "No,"  he  replied, 
"Scotland  will  become  an  appendage 
to  the  English ;  for  the  smaller  must 
follow  the  larger  kingdom."  The 
event  has  verified  the  prediction; 
and  ^  the  marriage  has  been  pro- 
ductive of  more  substantial  benefits 
than  Henry  could  probably  foresee. 
It  has  not  only  united  the  two  crowns 
on  one  head ;  it  has  also  contributed 
to  unite  the  two  kingdoms  into  one 
empire.1 

It  would  be  tedious  to  narrate  the 
repeated  and  protracted  negotiations 
respecting  this  marriage.    The  parties 
were  related  within  the   prohibited 
degrees,  and  the  princess  was  not  of 
sufficient  age  to  make  a  contract  valid 
in  law.    Both  these  impediments  were 
removed  by  papal  dispensation.  Henry 
consented  to  give  with  his  daughter 
the  paltry  sum  of  thirty  thousand 
nobles,  to  be  paid  in  three  yearly  in- 
stalments; and  James  to  put  her  in 
legal  possession  of  lands  to  the  annual 
value  of  two  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
reserving  to  himself  the  right  of  re- 
ceiving the  rents  during  his  life,  but 
with  the  obligation  of  defraying  the 
expenses  of  her  household,  and  of 
paying  to  her  yearly  five  hundred 
marks  in  money.2    The  parties  were 
now  solemnly  affianced  to  each  other 
in  the  queen's  chamber,  the  earl  of 
Bothwell  acting  as  proxy  for  James ; 
tournaments  were  performed  for  two 
days  in  honour  of  the  ceremony ;  and 
to  exhilarate   the  populace,  twelve 
hogsheads  of  claret  were  tapped  in 
the    streets,    and    twelve    bonfires 
kindled    at    night.3     At    the    same 
time  was  concluded,  after  one  hun- 
dred and   seventy  years  of  war,  or 


[CHAI*.  v. 


of  truces  little  better  than  war,  a 
treaty  of  perpetual   peace   between 
the  two  kingdoms,  accompanied  with 
the  usual  clause  respecting  the  sur- 
render of  traitors,  and  a  promise  that 
neither  prince  would  grant  letters  of 
protection  to  the  subjects  of  the  other 
without  having  previously  obtained 
his  permission.    James,  however,  was 
careful   that   his   new   engagements 
should  not  interfere  with  the  ancient 
alliance  between  Scotland  and  France. 
When  he  swore  to  observe  the  treaty, 
he  had  given  to  Henry  the  usual  title 
of  king  of  France ;  but  he  instantly 
arose,  protested  that  he  had  done  it 
inadvertently,  and  repeated  the  oath 
with  the  omission  of  that  word ;  and 
when  he  was  requested  by  his  father- 
in-law  not  to  renew  the  French  league, 
he  acquiesced  for  the  time,  but  reserved* 
to  himself  the  power  of  renewing  it, 
whenever  he  should  be  so  advised.-1 

At  the  time  of  the  contract  the 
princess  was  but  twelve  years  of  age, 
and  James  had  consented  that  she 
should  remain  twenty  mouths  longer 
under  the  roof  of  her  royal  parents.  At 
length  she  departed  from  her  grand- 
mother's palace  at  Colliweston,  with 
a  long  train  of  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
who  accompanied  her  a  mile,  kissed 
her,  and  returned  to  the  court.    The 
earl  of  Kent,  with  the  lords  Strange, 
Hastings,  and  Willoughby,  escorted 
her  as  far  as  York.    She  rode  on  a 
palfrey  attended  by  three  footmen, 
and  was  followed  by  a  magnificent 
litter  drawn  by  two  horses,  in  which 
she  made  her  entry  into  the  different 
towns.    In  her  suite  were  a  company 
of  players  and  another  of  minstrels. 
From  York  she  proceeded  under  the 


-  Bacon,  119. 

«  2c5ymVxii-  787-793-  As  the  noble  waa 
os.  8d.,  the  whole  portion  amounted  to  no 
more  than  10.000Z.  The  noble  waa  also 
equal  to  a  Scottish  pound. 

3  The  form  was  as  follows  :  "  I,  Patricke 
ear.  of  Bothwel,  procurator,  &e.,  contract 
matrimony  with  thee  Margaret,  and  take 
tnee  into  and  for  the  wieffe  and  spoua  of 


my  soveraigne  lord  James  king  of  Scotland, 
and  all  uthir  for  thee,  as  procurator  forsaid, 
forsake,  induring  his  and  thine  lives  natural! 
and  thereto  as  procurator  forsaid,  I  plight 
and  gives  thee  his  faythe  and  truthe." 
Henry  gave  to  the  ambassadors  at  their  de- 
parture presents  to  the  value  of  several 
thousand  pounds.— Lei.  Coll.  iy.  258—261. 
*  Eym.  xii.  793—804;  xiii.  12,  43-47. 


A  I.  1499.] 


DEATH.  OF  PRINCE  ARTHUR. 


care  of  the  earls  of  Surrey  and  North- 
umberland to  Lamberton  kirk,  where 
she  was  received  by  the  Scottish 
nobility.  James  repeatedly  visited 
ber  on  her  progress;  and  on  her 
arrival  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Edinburgh,  mounted  her  palfrey, 
an~d  rode  with  her  behind  him  into 
his  capital.  The  marriage  ceremony 
was  performed  by  the  archbishop  of 
Glasgow,  and  "  the  Englishe  lords  and 
lady  es,"  says  Hall,  "returned  into  their 
countrey,  gevyinge  more  prayse  to  the 
manhoode,  than  to  the  good  maner, 
and  nurture  of  Scotland." ' 

3.  Henry  had  always  cultivated 
with  particular  solicitude  the  alli- 
ance of  Ferdinand  king  of  Castile 
and  Arragon ;  and  the  more  strongly 
to  cement  their  friendship,  had  pro- 
posed a  marriage  between  his  eldest 
son,  Arthur  prince  of  Wales,  and 
Catherine,  the  fourth  daughter  of 
the  Castilian  monarch.  A  preli- 
minary treaty  on  this  subject  was 
concluded  as  early  as  the  year  1492 ; 
it  was  followed  in  1496  by  another, 
according  to  which  Ferdinand  pro- 
mised to  give  to  the  princess  a  portion 
of  two  hundred  thousand  crowns  ; 
and  Henry  engaged  that  his  son 
should  endow  her  with  one-third  of 
\LIS  income  at  present,  and  one-third 
of  the  income  of  the  crown,  if  he 


should  live  to  wear  it.2  The  mar- 
riage was  postponed  on  account  of 
the  youth  of  Arthur;  but  when  he 
had  completed  his  twelfth  year,  a 
dispensation  was  obtained  to  enable 
him  to  make  the  contract ;  and  the 
marriage  ceremony  was  performed  in 
he  chapel  of  his  manor  of  Bewdley, 
where  Catherine  was  represented  by 
her  proxy  the  Spanish  ambassador.3 
She  was  nine  or  ten  months  older 
than  Arthur;  and  when  the  latter 
tiad  completed  his  fourteenth  year, 
Henry  demanded  her  of  her  parents. 
She  parted  from  them  at  Grenada, 
traversed  Spain  to  Corunna,  and 
landed  at  Plymouth,  after  a  weari- 
some and  boisterous  voyage.  The 
king  met  her  at  Dogmersfield,4  where 
she  renewed  to  Arthur  the  contract 
which  had  been  made  by  her  proxy ; 
the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed 
in  St.  Paul's ;  and  at  the  door  of  the 
cathedral,  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
multitude,  Arthur  endowed  her  with 
one-third  of  his  property.5  The 
king  spared  no  expense  to  testify  his 
joy  by  disguisings,  tournaments,  and 
banquets ;  and  several  of  the  nobility, 
to  natter  the  monarch,  indulged  in  a 
magnificence  which  proved  ruinous 
to  their  families.6  The  abilities  of 
Arthur,  the  sweetness  of  his  temper, 
and  his  proficiency  in  learning,7  had 


*  Lei.  Coll.  iv.  265-300.    Hall,  56. 

2  Kym.  xii.  658—666.  The  Spanish  crown 
was  worth  4s.  2d.  English.— Ibid.  Tran- 
scripts for  N.  Kym.  80. 

s  Kym.  xii.  75.4.  As  almost  three  years 
elapsed  between  the  treaty  of  marriage  and 
the  contract,  this  delay  has  been  urged  as  a 
proof  that  Ferdinand  would  not  consent  to 
it  tiU  he  was  assured  that  the  life  of  the  earl 
of  "Warwick,  the  real  heir,  would  betaken 
by  Henry.  But  the  fact  is,  that  this  was 
tio  earliest  period  stipulated  in  the  treaty 
(Rym.  xii.  663),  which  provided  that,  as 
soon  as  Arthur  had  completed  his  twelfth 
year,  the  parents  might,  if  they  pleased, 
apply  to  the  pope  for  a  dispensation. 

4  An  unexpected  difficulty  occurred  on 
the  road  to  Dogmersfield.  The  prothonotary 
of  Spain  met  the  king,  and  told  him  that  the 
Spanish  noblemen  who  had  charge  of  the 
princess  had  been  charged  by  their  sove- 
reign that  "they  should  in  no  manner  oi 


wise  permit  their  lady  to  have  any  meeting, 
ne  to  use  any  manner  of  communication, 
nither  to  receive  any  companye,  untill  the 
inception  of  the  very  daye  of  the  solemnisa- 
tion of  the  marriadge."  But  Henry  declared 
that  he  would  be  master  in  his  own  king- 
dom ;  he  entered  her  chamber,  introduced 
his  son  to  her,  and  caused  them  to  renew 
the  former  contract.— Lei.  Coll.  v.  352—355. 

5  Rym.  xii.  780. 

6  Those  who    are    desirous    of  knowing 
what  were  the  fashionable  amusements  of 
our  ancestors  may  read  the  account  of  the 
festivities  on  this  occasion  added  by  Hearn 
to  Leland's  Collectanea,  v.  356—373. 

7  Besides  the  most  eminent  grammarians, 
he  had  studied  "  in  poetrie  Homer,  Virgil, 
Lucan,  Ovid,  Silius,  Plautus,  and  Terence ; 
in  oratorie,  Tullies  offices,  epistles,  para- 
doxes, and  Quintilian ;  in  history,  Thucy- 
dides,  Livie,  Caesar's  Commentaries,  Sue- 
tonins,  Tacitus,  Plinius,  Valerius  Maxirausi;. 


ISO 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP.  v. 


gained  him  the  affection  of  all  who 
knew  him ;  and  his  bride  by  her 
beauty,  modesty,  and  accomplish- 
ments, became  tho  object  of  general 
admiration.  The  castle  of  Ludlow, 
in  Shropshire,  was  assigned  for  their 
residence ;  their  court  represented  in 
miniature  the  court  of  their  royal 
parent ;  and  the  prince  amidst  his 
vassals  was  instructed  by  his  council 
in  the  rudiments  of  government. 
But  the  weakness  of  his  constitution 
sank  under  the  rigour  of  the  season, 
perhaps  undor  the  prevailing  epi- 
demic, caUed  the  sweating  sickness; 
and  the  hopes  of  the  nation  were 
unexpectedly  blighted  by  his  prema- 
ture death  in  the  fourth  month  after 
his  marriage.1  The  intelligence  of 
this  event  alarmed  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  the  parents  of  the  young 
widow.  Anxious  to  preserve  the 
friendship  of  England,  as  a  counter- 
poise to  the  enmity  of  France,  they 
hastened  to  propose  a  marriage  be- 
tween their  daughter  and  her  brother- 
in-law,  Henry,  now  apparent  heir  to 
the  throne.  The  English  monarch 
affected  to  receive  the  communica- 
tion with  indifference ;  and  suspended 
his  assent,  that  he  might  ascertain 


whether  a  more  profitable  bargain 
might  not  be  made  with  some  other 
court ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  tho 
Spaniard,  to  quicken  the  determina- 
tion, sought  to  alarm  the  avarice  of 
his  ally,  by  requiring  the  immediate 
return  of  Catherine,  with  the  resto- 
ration of  the  one  hundred  thousand 
crowns,  the  half  of  her  marriage  por- 
tion, which  had  already  been  paid. 
The  negotiation  at  length  was  opened ; 
but  it  proved  as  difficult  to  wring 
money  from  Ferdinand,  as  to  satisfy 
the  expectations  of  Henry ;  and  a  year 
elapsed  before  it  was  finally  agreed 
that  the  marriage  should  be  con- 
tracted within  two  months  after  the 
arrival  of  a  dispensation  from  the 
pope ;  that  it  should  be  solemnized 
when  the  young  prince  had  com- 
pleted his  fourteenth  year ;  and  that 
Ferdinand  should  previously  transmit 
to  London  another  sum  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns,  the  remaining 
half  of  the  portion  of  Catherine. 
The  dispensation  was  obtained ;  the 
parties  were  contracted  to  each 
other  ;2  but  the  Spanish  monarch 
either  could  not  or  would  not  ad- 
vance the  money;  and  his  English 
brother  cared  little  for  the  delay. 


Salust,  and  Eusebius.  Wherein  we  have 
been  particular,  to  signifie  what  authors 
were  then  thought  fit  to  be  elementary  and 
rudimentall  unto  princes." — Speed  (p.  988), 
who  quotes  a  manuscript  of  Andre",  the 
preceptor  of  Arthur. 

1  The  intelligence  was  first  opened  to  the 
king  by  his  confessor.  He  sent  for  the 
queen,  who  seeing  him  oppressed  with  sor- 
row, "  besought  his  grace  that  he  would 
first  after  God  remember  the  weale  of  his 
owne  noble  person,  the  comfort  of  his  realme 
and  of  her.  She  then  saied,  that  my  ladie 
his  mother  had  never  no  more  children  but 
him  onely,  and  that  God  by  his  grace  had 
ever  preserved  him,  and  brought  him  where 
that  he  was.  Over  that,  howe  that  God  had 
left  him  yet  a  fayre  prince,  two  fayre  prin- 
cesses ;  and  that  God  is  where  he  was,  and 
we  are  both  young  ynoughe ;  and  that  the 
prudence  and  wisdom  of  his  grace  spronge 
over  all  Christendome,  so  that  it  should 
please  him  to  take  this  according  thereunto. 
Then  the  king  thanked  her  of  her  good 
comfort.  After  that  she  was  departed  and 
cocao  to  her  owne  chamber,  natural  and 


motherly  remembrance  of  that  great  losse 
smote  her  so  sorrowfull  to  the  hart,  that 
those  that  were  about  her  were  faine  to 
send  for  the  king  to  comfort  her.  Then  his 
grace  of  true  gentle  and  i'aithfull  love  in  good 
hast  came  and  relieved  her,  and  showed  her 
how  wise  counsell  she  had  given  him  before : 
and  he  for  his  parte  would  thauke  God  for 
his  sonn,  and  would  she  should  doe  in  like- 
wise." I  have  transcribed  this  account  of 
Henry's  conduct  on  so  interesting  an  occa- 
sion, as  it  appears  to  me  to  do  away  the 
charge  which  has  been  brought  against  him 
of  treating  Elizabeth  with  indifference  and 
neglect.  I  shall  add,  that  I  have  not  met 
with  any  good  proof  of  Henry's  dislike  of 
Elizabeth,  so  often  mentioned  by  later 
writers.  In  the  MS.  of  Andre",  and  the 
journals  of  the  herald,  they  appear  as  if 
they  entertained  a  real  affection  for  each 
other,  and  Henry's  privy  purse  expenses 
show  that  he  often  made  to  her  presents  of 
"  money,  jewels,  frontlets,  and  other  orna- 
ments, and  also  paid  her  debts." — Sea 
Excerpt.  Hist.  p.  86. 
2  Rymer,  xiii.  81,  83,  89,  1\4. 


1303.]         IlEMKrS  MATRIMONIAL 


The  princess,  a  widow,  and  in  his 
custody,  was  an  hostage  for  the  good- 
will of  her  father ;  and  by  retaining 
this  hold  on  the  hopes  and  fears  of 
the  Spaniard,  he  expected  to  extor 
from  him  concessions  of  still  greate 
importance.    On  the  day  before  th 
young  Henry   completed    his   four 
teenth   year,   the   canonical   age   o 
puberty,  and  the  time  fixed  for  th 
solemnization  of  the  marriage,  he  was 
compelled  to  protest  in  due  form  tha 
he  had  neither  done,  nor  meant  t< 
do  anything  which  could  render  th 
contract    made   during    his   nonag 
binding  in  law.    It  might  be  though 
that  this  protestation  was  equivalen 
to  a  refusal;  but  the  king  assurec 
Ferdinand  that  his  only  object  was 
to  free  his  son  from  all  previous  ob- 
ligation ;  he  still  wished  to  marry 
Catherine,  but  was  also  free  to  marry 
any  other  woman.1    Thus  while  he 
awakened  the  fears,  he  was  careful 
to  nourish  the  hopes  of  the  Spaniard 
an  expedient  by  which  he  flatterec 
himself  that  he  should  compel  that 
monarch  to  submit  to  his  pleasure 
in  two  other  projects  which  he  had 
now  formed. 

About  ten  months  after  the  death 
of  Prince  Arthur,3  his  mother  Eliza- 
beth died  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven. 


\  El  se  tenia  por  libre  para  casarso  con 
quien  quisiese.— Zurita,  vi.  193.  En  Zara- 
goza,  1610.  The  contract  is  in  Collier,  ii. 
rec.  There  was  nothing  very  singular  in 
this  revocation.  A  valid  contract  of  mar- 
nage  could  not  be  made  before  the  male 
was  fourteen,  the  female  twelve  years  old  • 
but  a  precontract  might  be  made  at  an 
earlier  age,  which,  as  long  as  it  remained  in 
force,  disabled  each  party  from  marryine  any 
other  person;  either,  however,  was  at  liberty 
on  coming  to  age,  to  annul  the  precontract 
without  seeking  the  consent  of  the  other. 
Hence  it  was  not  uncommon  for  a  parent  or 
guardian  to  instruct  the  party  for  whom  he 
was  interested  to  seize  the  first  opportunity 
of  revoking  the  precontract,  not  with  the 
»T f  ti!Q e,ntlon  °f  Preventing  the  marriage, 
but  that  he  might  extort  more  advantageous 
terms  from  the  other  party,  or  might  gain 
time  to  avail  himself  of  a  more  eligible 
match  if  any  such  should  chance  to  5ffe? 
*tself.  In  the  present  case  the  young  Hesry 


Henry's  mourning  might  be  sincere, 
but  it  was  short,  and  he  quickly  con- 
soled himself  for  his  loss  by  calcula- 
ting the  pecuniary  advantages  which 
he  might  derive  from  a  second  mar- 
riage. The  late  king  of  Naples  had 
bequeathed  an  immense  property  to 
his  widow;  her  presumed  riches 
offered  irresistible  attractions  to  the 
heart  of  the  English  monarch ;  and 
three  private  gentlemen  were  com- 
missioned to  procure  an  introduction 
to  the  queen  under  the  pretext  of 
delivering  to  her  a  letter  from  the 
dowager  princess  of  Wales.  In  their 
report  to  the  king  they  praised  her 
person,  her  disposition,  and  her 
acquirements,  but  added  the  unwel- 
come intelligence  that  the  reigning 
king  had  refused  to  fulfil  the  testa- 
ment of  his  predecessor.  Henry's 
passion  was  instantly  extinguished; 
lie  cast  his  eyes  on  another  rich 
widow,  Margaret,  the  duchess  of 
Savoy,  and  from  an  accident  which 
he  attributed  to  his  good  fortune,  he 
derived  a  strong  hope  of  succeeding 
m  his  suit.  <»  -•.-,. 

On  the  death  of  Isabella,  queen  of 
Castile,  which  crown  she  held  in  her 
own  right,  her  husband  Ferdinand 
surrendered  the  sceptre  of  Castile  to 
his  daughter  Juana,  the  wife  of  the 


would  end  hi3  fourteenth  year  on  the  mom- 
ng  of  the  28th  of  June,  1505,  when  Catbe- 
me  would  be  entitled  by  the  treaty  to  claim 
&e  solemnization  of  their  nuptials.  On  the 
7tn,  therefore,  he  appeared  in  the  court  of 
he  bishop  of  Winchester,  and  stated  that 
ne  was  now  at,  or  upon,  the  age  of  puberty 
nd  in  order  that  he  might  not  be  hereafter 
upposed  to  have  given  his  consent  to  tho 
narnage  hitherto  intended  between  him 
nd  the  princess  Catherine,  either  by  his 
ilence  or  any  of  the  other  ways  specified 
n  the  law,  he  did  then  and  there  revoke 
he  former  contract,  and  affirm  that  he  did 
ot  intend  by  anything  which  he  had  done 
r  might  do,  to  confirm  it.  He  was  now  by 
aw  at  liberty  to  marry  any  other  person  • 
ut  the  subsequent  conduct  of  hia  father 
hows  that  no  such  marriage  was  in  actua, 
ntemplation. 


mse  of  her  funera.  amounted  to 
3.  3d.-Excerpt  Hist.  130. 

m 


162 


HENRY  TO. 


[CHAP.  V 


archduke  Philip,  but  claimed  the 
regency  in  virtue  of  the  will  of  his 
lato  consort.  The  new  king  and 
queen  in  the  beginning  of  1506  left 
the  Netherlands  to  take  possession 
of  the  Castilian  throne ;  but  the 
weather  was  unfavourable ;  and  after 
struggling  with  adverse  winds  for 
more  than  a  fortnight,  they  sought 
shelter  in  the  harbour  of  Falmouth. 
It  was  in  vain  that  their  council 
objected.  They  went  on  shore  in 
search  of  refreshment,  and  Henry 
grasped  at  the  opportunity  of  deriving 
advantage  from  their  indiscretion. 
In  terms  which  admitted  of  no  re- 
fusal, he  invited  them  to  his  court; 
detained  them  during  three  months 
in  splendid  captivity,  and  extorted 
from  them  several  valuable  conces- 
sions as  the  price  of  their  enlargement. 
1.  Margaret  of  Savoy  was  the  sister  of 
Philip,  and  that  prince  was  compelled 
to  agree  to  a  marriage  between  her 
and  Henry,  and  to  fix  the  amount 
of  her  portion  at  three  hundred 
thousand  crowns,  each  crown  being 
equal  in  value  to  four  shillings  Eng- 
lish ;  of  which  sum  one  hundred 
thousand  crowns  should  be  paid  in 
August,  and  the  remainder  by  equal 
instalments  within  six  years.  Mar- 
garet was  in  the  annual  receipt  of 
fifty  thousand  crowns  arising  from 
her  two  doweries,  as  the  widow  of 
John,  prince  of  Spain,  and  of  Phili- 
bert,  duke  of  Savoy.  This  sum  the 
king  required  to  be  settled  on  him- 


self for  his  own  use  and  benefit, 
while  the  princess  would  be  amply 
ndemnified  by  the  income  which  she 
would  receive  as  queen  of  England. 
2.  Henry  had  formerly  obtained  the 
consent  of  Maximilian  that  Charles, 
the  infant  son  of  Philip,  should  marrj 
Mary,  the  youngest  daughter  of  the 
English  king.  To  this  the  captive 
prince,  though  he  had  formerly  re- 
fused, now  gave  his  assent.2  3.  A 
new  treaty  of  commerce  was  nego- 
tiated between  the  subjects  of  the 
two  kings,  as  prejudicial  to  the 
interests  of  the  Flemish,  as  it  was 
favourable  to  those  of  the  Eng- 
lish merchants.  4.  The  king  lent 
to  the  archduke  on  certain  securities 
the  sum  of  138,0002.  towards  the 
expense  of  his  voyage  to  Spain. 
Lastly,  he  demanded  the  surrender 
of  an  individual  whom  he  had  long 
considered  the  most  dangerous  enemy 
of  the  house  of  Lancaster.  This  was 
Edmund,  second  son  to  the  late  duke 
of  Suffolk.  John  earl  of  Lincoln,  the 
eldest  son,  had  fallen  at  the  battle  oi 
Stoke,  and  had  been  attainted  by 
parliament.  "When  the  duke  him- 
self died,  Edmund  claimed  the  honours 
and  estate  of  his  father;  but  Henry 
persisted  in  considering  him  as  the 
heir  of  his  attainted  brother,  main- 
tained that  he  had  no  claim  to  the 
forfeited  property,  and  compelled 
him  to  accept  as  a  boon  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  patrimony  of  his  fathers, 
and  to  be  content  with  the  inferior 


-Sta.  to  Claude,  daughter  of  Louis  XII.  cf 
After  ip's  Lath  (25th  Sept.  1506),  Maximilian,  fearing  that  Ferdinand  might 
possession  of  Castile  to  the  prejudice  of  his  grandson,  urged  Henry  to  contract  the 
Drinces  to  each  other,  and  then  demand  the  regency  of  Castile,  as  guardian  to  his 
onnFaw-Zu?ita,  vi  163  He  was  deterred  by  his  desire  of  marrying  Juana ;  but 
afterwards'  a  few  months  before  his  death,  in  defiance  of  the  objections  of  Ferdinand. 
Proceeded  to  STe  wntract  with  the  approbation  of  Maximilian  and  Margaret,  Dec.  15, 
?W8  -Rym  xS  236.  Perhaps  the  following  table  may  pro™  of  use  to  the  reader  :- 
Maximilian.  Ferdinand  =  Isabella 

of  Arragon.  I  of  Castile. 


Fhilil 


C  bailee. 


:  Juana,  queen  of 
Castile. 


D  1502.] 


NEW  PROJECTS  OF  MAKBIAGU, 


title  of  earl.'  It  was  impossible  to 
ascribe  the  king's  conduct  to  any 
other  motive  than  a  desire  to  humble 
a  rival  family;  and  the  earl  by  his 
ungovernable  passions  soon  involved 
himself  in  difficulties  and  danger, 
He  had  killed  a  man  who  had  offended 
him  was  arraigned  as  a  murderer  at 
the  King  s  Bench,  and  commanded  to 
pleadtheking'spardon.Hispridecould 
not  brook  this  indignity;  and  the 
court  of  his  aunt,  the  duchess  of  Bur- 
gundy,  received  the  Fugitive.  Henry, 

±^  twd   gT  s  J  krw  D0t'  is 

represented   as  desirous  to  inveigle 

vZTon  ghim  t  indifretlonAsv  *T 

vailed  on  him  to  return.  At  the 
marriage  of  the  prinoe  of  Wales,  he 
vied  in  the  splendour  of  his  equipage 
and  his  attentions  to  the  royal  family, 
with  the  most  opulent  and  favoured 


103 

pressed  in  its  birth  ;  and  Suffolk  left 
in  extreme  penury  by  the  death  of 
his  aunt,  after  watering  La  time 
in  Germany,  had  been  permittedTy 
the  archduke  Philip  to  r  Win  his 
dominions. 

Henry  now  demanded  of  that  prince 
the  surrender  of  the  fugitive     It  was 
in  vain  that  he  pleaded  his  honour 
he  was  given  to  know  that  he  ™ 
himself  a  captive,  and  could  onYy  pur! 
chase  his  liberty  by  consenting  to  tl 
captivity  of  the  earl.    Compelled  to 

yield'  he  exacted  from  *™y  *p** 

mise  that  he  would  respect  the  life  of 

Suffolk'  and  on  the  su'render  5t2 

fugitive  was  permitted  to  nroseenlP 
his  voyage.  The  earl  was*  sen  to 
the  Tower.  Though  Henry  thirsted 
for  his  blood,  he 
engagement  with 


the  two  first  no  other 


charging  himself  and  his  dominions 

te  the  payment  of  tbe  sums  Pe- 
cified,   and 

tf  r      hfaultof 

the    fugitive;    the  of  excommunication.5    He  however 


of 


M  2 


104 


HENRY  VII. 


!  CHif.  V. 


Juana,  in  her  own  right  queen  of 
Castile,  appeared  to  the  imagination 
of  the  king  a  more  desirable  bride 
than  Margaret.  There  were  indeed 
two  obstacles  to  be  surmounted,  which 
would  have  deterred  any  other  suitor. 
Juana  laboured  under  a  derangement 
of  intellect,  which  rendered  her  inca- 
pable of  giving  her  consent ;  and  Fer- 
dinand, her  guardian,  would  naturally 
oppose  any  measure  which  might  de- 
prive him  of  the  government  of  her 
dominions.  But  Henry  was  not  dis- 
couraged. He  relinquished  the  pur- 
suit of  Margaret ;  contended  that  the 
malady  of  Juana  was  only  temporary, 
occasioned  by  the  bad  usage  which 
she  had  received  from  her  last  hus- 
band, and  trusted  to  his  own  inge- 
nuity to  remove  the  objections  of 
her  father.  That  monarch,  unwilling 
to  irritate  a  prince  whom  it  was  his 
interest  to  flatter,  had  recourse  to 
delay;  he  represented  the  present 
state  of  his  daughter's  mind ;  he  pro- 
mised that  if,  on  the  recovery  of  her 
reason,  she  could  be  induced  to 
marry,  the  king  of  England  should  be 
her  husband.  But  Henry  was  sus- 
picious of  the  king's  sincerity;  he 
insisted  that  his  ambassador  /  ntill 
should  speak  to  the  queen  in  private, 
and  receive  an  answer  from  her  own 
mouth;  and  apprehensive  that  his 
son's  attachment  to  Catherine  might 
lead  to  a  clandestine  union,  he  for- 
bade them  to  see  each  other,  treated 
the  princess  with  severity,  and  endea- 
voured to  subdue  the  obstinacy  of  the 
father  by  punishing  the  innocence  of 


1  Catherine,  in  her  letters  to  her  father, 
piofessed  to  have  no  great  inclination  for  a 
Bccoucl  marriage  iu  England,  but  requested 
that  her  sufferings  and  wishes  might  be 
kept  out  of  view.  No  guataba  la  princesa 
lie  casar  segunda  vez  en  Inglaterra.  Asi  le 
•tto  a  entender  al  rey  su  padre :  euando  le 
supplicaba  en  lo  qne  tocaba  a  su  easamiento 
no  mirase  su  gusto  ni  comodidad,  sino  solo 
io  que  a  el  y  sus  cosas  conveniese  bien. — 
Mariana,  Hist.  1.  xx.  o.  17. 

•  The  English  historians  seem  entirely 


his  daughter.1  However,  the  malady 
of  Juana  experienced  no  abatement. 
H  enry  desisted  from  his  hopeless  pur- 
suit, and,  accepting  the  apologies  of 
Ferdinand  for  his  delay  in  the  pay- 
ment of  the  marriage  portion,  con- 
cluded with  him  a  new  treaty,  by 
which  the  Spanish  monarch  was 
bound  to  transmit  to  London  one 
hundred  thousand  crowns  in  four 
half-yearly  instalments,  and  Henry  to 
permit  the  solemnization  of  the  mar- 
riage on  the  arrival  of  the  last.  Two 
were  received  by  the  king  at  the 
appointed  time:  he  died  before  the 
arrival  of  the  third.2  Perhaps  I 
should  apologise  to  the  reader  for 
this  long  and  tedious  detail ;  but 
the  important  controversy  to  which 
the  marriage  of  Henry  and  Catherine 
gave  birth,  and  the  still  more  im- 
portant consequences  to  which  that 
controversy  led,  have  imparted  an 
interest  to  every  circumstance  which 
originally  impeded  or  facilitated  their 
union. 

IT.  While  the  king  sought  by 
foreign  alliances  to  add  to  the  secu- 
rity of  his  family,  he  was  equally 
solicitous  to  amass  riches  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  subjects.  What  they 
termed  avarice,  he  denominated  po- 
licy; observing  that  to  deprive  his 
adversaries  of  their  wealth  was  to 
take  from  them  the  means  of  annoy- 
ance. But  Henry's  rapacity  was  not 
very  scrupulous  in  its  selection:  it 
fed  with  equal  appetite  on  his  friends 
and  his  enemies.  The  men  whom  he 
employed  as  the  agents  of  oppression 


ignorant  of  the  causes  which  for  so  many 
years  delayed  the  marriage  of  Henry  and 
Catherine.  For  the  preceding  narrative  I 
have  had  recourse  to  the  Spanish  historians 
Zurita  and  Mariana,  and  have  compared 
their  statements  with  extracts  from  the 
original  documents  preserved  among  the 
records  at  Simancas,  which  have  been  copied 
for  me  by  a  friend  in  Spain.  The  receipts 
for  the  money  in  1508  are  signed  by  both 
Henries,  the  father  and  son.  The  thy-d 
payment  was  made  to  the  young  king  in 
May,  and  the  last  in  September,  1509. 


A.D.  1508.] 


RAPACITY  OF  THE  KING. 


lf,5 


were  Sir  Richard  Empson  and  Ed- 
mund Dudley,  both  lawyers,  of  in- 
ventive heads  and  unfeeling  hearts ; 
who  despoiled  the  subject  to  fill  the 
king's  coffers,  and  despoiled  the  king 
to  enrich  themselves.  The  following 
are  the  chief  of  the  numerous  expe- 
dients by  which  they  extorted  money. 
1.  In  the  lapse  of  centuries  the  rigour 
of  the  feudal  tenures  had  been  gra- 
dually relaxed,  and  during  the  civil 
dissensions  of  the  two  roses  many 
presentations  had  been  suffered  to  sink 
into  disuetude.  But  these  ministers 
are  said  to  have  revived  all  the  dor- 
mant claims  of  the  crown ;  exacted 
with  severity  the  payment  of  arrears ; 
discovered  and  enforced  forgotten 
causes  of  forfeiture ;  and  extended 
the  feudal  services  to  estates  holden 
by  different  tenures.  2.  The  ancient 
statutes  had  created  a  multitude  of 
offences  punishable  by  fine,  imprison- 
ment, and  forfeiture,  and  had  enacted 
the  same  penalties  against  officers 
who  had  failed  in  the  execution  of 
their  duty.  Under  these  two  heads 
hosts  of  informers  were  employed  to 
cull  out  fit  subjects  for  prosecution ; 
arid  when  the  real  or  supposed  delin- 
quent was  brought  before  Empson 
or  Dudley  (they  were  barons  of  the 
Exchequer),  unless  he  consented  to 
pay  an  exorbitant  fine,  he  was  com- 
mitted to  prison.  New  offers  of  com- 
position were  made  to  him,  while  he 
lingered  in  custody;  on  his  refusal, 
judgment  was  passed  against  him, 
sometimes  without  any  trial  by  jury,1 
sometimes  according  to  the  verdict  of 
a  jury  previously  packed  for  the  pur- 
pose. 3.  Outlawry  was  the  general 
consequence  of  non-appearance  in 
personal  actions ;  but  was  always 
reversed,  on  the  payment  by  the  party 
of  a  moderate  fine.  These  harpies 


1  By  a  statute  of  the  llth  of  this  reign, 
c.  3,  judges  of  assize  and  justices  of  peace 
had  power  in  informations  for  the  kine 
before  them  to  hear  and  determine  a£ 


had  the  ingenuity  to  multiply  such 
proceedings,  and  the  cruelty  to  wring 
from  their  victims  the  full  amount  of 
a  year's  income.  By  these  arts  and 
others  of  a  similar  description,  every 
class  of  subjects  was  harassed  and  im- 
poverished, while  a  constant  stream  of 
wealth  passed  through  the  hands  of 
Empson  and  Dudley,  of  which  a  part 
only  was  suffered  to  reach  the  trea- 
sury ;  the  remainder  they  diverted  to 
their  own  coffers.2 

If  we  may  credit  a  story  related  by 
Bacon,  Henry  was  not  less  adroit,  nor 
less  unfeeling,  than  his  two  ministers. 
Of  the  partisans  of  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster, there  was  no  one  whose  ex- 
ertions or  sacrifices  had  been  greater 
than  those  of  the  earl  of  Oxford.  That 
nobleman  on  one  occasion  had  enter- 
tained the  king  at  his  castle  of  Hen- 
ningham ;  and  when  Henry  was  ready 
to  depart,  a  number  of  servants  and 
retainers  in  the  earl's  livery  were 
drawn  up  in  two  lines,  to  do  honour 
to  the  sovereign.  "  My  lord,"  said 
the  king,  "I  have  heard  much  of  your 
hospitality,  but  I  see  it  is  greater  than 
the  speech.  These  handsome  gentle- 
men and  yeomen  that  I  see  on  each 
side  of  me  are  surely  your  menial 
servants  ?  "  The  earl  replied  with  a 
smile,  "That,  may  it  please  your  grace, 
"  were  not  for  mine  ease.  They  arc 
most  of  them  mine  retainers,  come  to 
do  me  service  at  a  time  like  this,  and 
chiefly  to  see  your  grate."  Henry 
affected  to  start,  and  returned :  "  By 
my  faith,  my  lord,  I  thank  you  for 
your  good  cheer;  but  I  may  not 
endure  to  have  my  laws  broken  in  my 
sight.  My  attorney  must  speak  with 
you."  He  alluded  to  the  statute 
against  retainers,  which  had  been 
passed  in  his  first  parliament ;  and 
the  earl  for  his  misplaced  generosity 


unrepealed.    It  was  repealed  in  the  1st  cf 
Henry  VIII.— Stat.  of  Eealm,  iii.  3. 

before  them   to   hear    and    determine   aU        2  Fabyan,  531—536.   Hall,  57.  59.   Bacca. 
offences  and  contempts  against  any  statute  I  119—121. 


iGG 


HENRY  VII. 


[CHAP.  V. 


was  condemned  to  pay  a  fine  cf  ten 
thousand  pounds;  an  almost  incredible 
sum,  if  we  consider  the  relative  value 
of  money  at  that  period.1 

The  king  had  for  years  been  visited 
with  regular  fits  of  the  gout.  His 
strength  visibly  wasted  away,  and 
every  spring  the  most  serious  appre- 
hensions were  entertained  for  his 
life.  "Whatever  might  be  the  hopes 
with  which  he  flattered  himself,  his 
preachers  did  not  allow  him  to  be 
ignorant  of  his  danger.  From  the 
pulpit  they  admonished  him  of  the 
extortion  of  his  officer?,  and  exhorted 
him  to  prepare  for  death  by  making 
reparation  to  the  innocent  sufferers. 
Henry  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
displeased  with  their  freedom.  He 
forgave  all  offences  against  the  crown, 
with  the  exception  of  felony  and 
murder ;  satisfied  the  creditors  of  all 
persons  confined  for  debts  under  the 
amount  of  forty  shillings ;  and  ordered 
strict  justice  to  be  done  to  all  who 
had  been  injured  by  the  tyranny  of 
the  ministers.  The  prosecutions,  how- 
ever, were  soon  revived ;  it  was  con- 
tended that  no  injustice  could  be 
committed  where  the  conviction  was 
procured  by  due  process  of  law ;  and 
several  of  the  most  respectable  citi- 
zens in  London  were  heavily  amerced, 
and  in  default  of  payment  thrown 
into  prison.  Thus  Empson  and 
Dudley  continued  to  pursue  their 
iniquitous  career  till  they  were  ar- 
rested by  the  death  of  the  king,  who 
in  the  spring  of  1509  sunk  under  the 
violence  of  his  disease.  The  anxiety 
of  his  mind  is  strongly  depicted  in 
the  provisions  of  his  will;  but  he 
might  easily  have  foreseen  that  his 
injunctions  for  the  reparation  of 
injuries  would  bo  despised  or  eluded 
by  a  young  and  thoughtless  succes- 
sor.2 He  left  thiee  children:  a  son, 
Henry,  who  inherited  his  father's 


*  Bacon,  121. 

2  This  singular  will  has  been  published  by 
Mr.  Astlo.  3  More,  67. 


crown,  and  two  daughters,  Margaret, 
married  to  James  king  of  Scots,  and 
Mary,  afterwards  the  wife  of  Louis 
XII.  king  of  France. 

To  Henry  by  his  contemporaries 
was  allotted  the  praise  of  political 
wisdom.  He  seems,  indeed,  to  have 
been  formed  by  nature  for  the  circum- 
stances in  which  accident  had  placed 
him.  With  a  mind  dark  and  mistrust- 
ful, tenacious  of  its  own  secrets  and 
adroit  in  divining  the  secrets  of  others, 
capable  of  employing  the  most  unprin- 
cipled agents,  and  of  descending  to  the 
meanest  artifices,  he  was  able  to  un- 
ravel the  plots,  to  detect  the  impos- 
tures, and  to  defeat  the  projects  of  all 
his  opponents.  But  there  was  nothing 
open  in  his  friendship,  nothing  gene- 
rous in  his  enmity.  His  suspicions 
kept  him  always  on  his  guard ;  he 
watched  with  jealousy  the  conduct 
of  his  very  ministers,  and  never  unbo- 
somed himself  with  freedom  even  to 
his  consort  or  his  mother.  It  was  his 
delight  to  throw  an  air  of  mystery 
over  the  most  ordinary  transactions ; 
nor  would  pride  or  policy  allow  him, 
even  when  it  appeared  essential  to  his 
interests,  to  explain  away  the  doubts, 
or  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  his  subjects. 
The  consequence  was,  that  no  one 
knew  what  to  believe  or  what  to  ex- 
pect. "  All  things,"  says  Sir  Thomas 
More,  "were  so  covertly  demeaned, 
one  thing  pretended  and  another 
meant,  that  there  was  nothing  so 
plain  and  openly  proved,  but  that  yet, 
for  the  common  custom  of  close  and 
covert  dealing,  men  had  it  ever  in- 
wardly suspect,  as  many  well  coun- 
terfeited jewels  make  the  true  mis- 
trusted."3 

He  appears  to  have  been  the  first 
of  our  kings  since  the  accession  of 
Henry  III.  who  confined  his  expenses 
within  the  limits  of  his  income.4  But 
the  civil  wars  had  swept  away  those 


4  In  his  first  parliament  funds  were  placed 
at  his  disposal  for  the  discharge  of  the 
yearly  expenses  of  his  household,  estimated 


A.D.  1509.] 


t/HARACTER,  OF  HENRY. 


crowds  of  annuitants  and  creditors 
that  formerly  used  to  besiege  the 
doors  of  the  exchequer ;  and  the  re- 
venue of  the  crown  came  to  him  free 
from  incumbrances,  and  augmented  by 
forfeitures.  Hence  he  was  enabled 
to  reign  without  the  assistance  of 
parliament;  and,  if  he  occasionally 
summoned  the  two  houses,  it  was  only 
when  a  decent  pretext  for  demanding 
a  supply  offered  to  his  avarice  a  bait 
which  it  could  not  refuse.1  He  had, 
however,  little  to  apprehend  from  the 
freedom  or  the  remonstrances  of  these 
assemblies.  That  spirit  of  resistance  to 
oppression,  that  ardour  to  claim  and 
establish  their  liberties,  which  charac- 
terised the  parliaments  of  former  times, 
had  been  extinguished  in  the  bloody 
feuds  between  "  the  two  roses."  The 
temporal  peers  who  had  survived  the 
storm  were  few  in  number,  and  with- 
out the  power  of  their  ancestors ;  they 
feared  by  alarming  the  suspicions  of 
the  monarch  to  replunge  themselves 
into  the  dangers  from  which  they  had 
so  lately  emerged ;  and  the  commons 
readily  adopted  the  humble  tone  and 
submissive  demeanour  of  the  upper 


house.  Henry,  and  the  same  may  be 
observed  of  his  two  last  predecessors, 
found  them  always  the  obsequious 
ministers  of  his  pleasure.2 

But  if  the  king  was  economical  in 
his  expenses,  and  eager  on  the  acqui- 
sition of  wealth,  it  should  also  be 
added,  that  he  often  rewarded  with  the 
generosity,  and  on  occasions  of  cere- 
mony displayed  the  magnificence,  of  a 
great  monarch.  His  charities  were 
many  and  profuse.  Of  his  buildings, 
his  three  convents  of  friars  fell  in  the 
next  reign ;  his  chapel  at  Westmin- 
ster still  exists,  a  monument  of  his 
opulence  and  taste.  He  is  said  to 
have  occasionally  advanced  loans  of 
money  to  merchants  engaged  in  pro- 
fitable branches  of  trade;  and  not 
only  gave  the  royal  licence  to  the 
attempt  of  the  Venetian  navigator 
Cabot,  but  fitted  out  a  ship  at  his 
own  expense  to  join  in  the  voyage. 
Cabot  sailed  from  Bristol,  discovered 
the  island  of  Newfoundland,  crept 
along  the  coast  of  Florida,  and  re- 
turned to  England.  It  was  the  first 
European  expedition  that  ever  reached 
the  American  continent.3 


at  14,000?.,  and  of  his  wardrobe,  estimated 
at  2,000?.— Kot.  Parl.  vi.  299,  also  497.  By 
the  treasurer's  account  of  the  last  year  de- 
livered to  Henry  VIII.  the  expenses  of  the 
household  amounted  to  12,759?.  9s.  lid., 
and  of  the  wardrobe  to  1,715?.  19s.  lid.— See 
Henry,  xii.  App.  No.  iv. 

1  During  the  last  thirteen  years  of  his  reign 
he  called  but  one  parliament,  in  1504.  His 
object  was  to  demand  an  equivalent  in  lieu 
of  two  reasonable  aids  due  by  the  feudal 
customs  for  having  made  his  eldest  son  a 
knight,  and  married  his  eldest  daughter.  It 
was,  however,  so  contrived  that  he  might 
have  the  merit  of  moderation,  while  he 
imposed  the  burden;  and  therefore  when 


the    parliament    offered    him    40,0002.,   he 
accepted  but  30,000?.— Eot.  Parl.  vi.  532. 

2  In  the  composition  of  these  sheets,  I 
have  frequently  been  inclined  to  believe  that 
w&  ascribe  to  the  spirit  of  the  commons  in 
former  times  more  than  they  really  deserve. 
On  many  important  occasions  they  appear 
to  me  to  have  been  put  forward  and  sup- 
ported by  the  peers ;  on  others  to  have 
been  merely  the  instruments  employed  by 
the  ruling  party.  If  this  be  so,  there  can 
be  no  wonder  that  after  the  depression  of 
the  house  of  lords,  they  fell  into  a  state  of 
dependence  on  the  crown. 

1  Rym.  xii.  595.    Hackluyt,  iii.  4 


CHAPTER  YT. 


IIENEY  VIII. 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLE. 


Henry  VIII.  —  Catherine  =    Anno    =  Jane   =    Anne    =  Catherine 

-1   1547. 

of  Spain, 
repudiated 
1533. 

Boleyn, 
be- 
headed 

Bey-  of  Cleves,  Howard, 
mour,  repu-  beheaded 
+  1537.  dialed  1541. 

1536. 

1540. 

I'arr, 

»  1548. 


Mary=Philip  II.    Elizabeth,  Edward  VI. 
+  1558.   of  Spain.      +1603.          +1553. 


CONTEMPORARY  PRINCES. 


Emp.  of  Germ. 

Maximilian  1519 

Charles  V. 


Julias  II.  1513. 


JF.  of  Scotland. 

James  IV 1513 

James  V 1542 

Mary. 

Popes. 
Leo  X.  1521.      Adrian  VI.  1523. 


R.  of  France. 

LouisXII 1515 

Francis  I. 


Sov.  of  Spain 

/Ferdinand. 15H 

t  Isabella 
Charles  V 


Clement  VII.  1534.        Paul  III. 


ACCESSION  AND  MARRIAGE  OF  HENRY  VIII. —  PUNISHMENT  Of  EMPSON  AND  DUDLEY 
— STATE  OF  EUROPE — WAR  WITH  FRANCE — INGLORIOUS  CAMPAIGN  IN  SPAIN — 

•  INVASION  OF  FRANCE — VICTORY  AT  GCINKGATE — DEFEAT  OF  THE  SCOTS  AT 
FLODDEN — PEACE — RISE,  POWER,  AND  CHARACTER  OF  WOL8EY. 

to  attract  their  attention.  By  the 
advice  of  his  grandmother,  the  vene- 
rable countess  of  Eichmond,  he  gave 
his  confidence  to  those  counsellors 
who  had  grown  old  in  the  service  01 
the  deceased  monarch;  and,  that  he 
might  initiate  himself  in  the  art  of 
reigning,  made  it  a  sacred  duty  to 
assist  almost  daily  at  their  delibe- 
rations. 

The  reader  is  already  aware,  that  it 
the  new  king  was  still  unmarried,  it 
had  been  owing  to  the  capricious  and 
interested  policy  of  his  father.  Imme- 
diately after  his  accession,  he  assured 
Fuensalida,  the  Spanish  ambassador, 
of  his  undiminished  attachment  to 


THE  late  king  had  forfeited,  long 
oefore  his  death,  the  affections  of  his 
people ;  and  the  accession  of  his  son, 
of  the  same  name  was  hailed  as 
the  commencement  of  a  new  era. 
The  young  Henry  had  almost  com- 
pleted his  eighteenth  year.  He  was 
handsome  in  person,  generous  in  dis- 
position, and  adroit  in  every  martial 
and  fashionable  exercise.  His  sub- 
jects, dazzled  by  the  fair  but  uncer- 
tain promise  of  his  youth,  gave  to  him 
credit  for  more  virtues  that  he  really 
possessed;1  while  his  vices,  though 
perhaps  even  then  discernible  to  an 
experienced  eye,  were  not  sufficiently 
developed  to  excite  their  alarm,  or 


i  Even  according  to  Cardinal  Polo,  his 
vraa  indolcs,  ex  qua  prccclara  oomui  sperari 


possent.— Apologia  R«-g.  Poli,  p.  86.  Brixi*, 
1714. 


A.D.  1510.]         ARREST  OF  EMPSON  AND  DUDLEY. 


ley 


Catherine,  and  of  his  intention  to 
bring  the  question  of  their  marriage 
immediately  before  his  council.1  By 
its  advocates  was  alleged  in  its  favour 
the  advantage  of  securing  the  alliance 
of  Spain  against  the  hostility  of 
Trance ;  and  to  the  objection  drawn 
from  the  affinity  between  the  parties 
were  opposed  the  force  of  the  papal 
dispensation,  and  the  solemn  assertion 
of  Catherine,  which  she  was  ready  to 
confirm  by  her  own  oath,  and  by  the 
attestation  of  several  matrons,  that  her 
former  nuptials  with  Arthur  had  never 
been  consummated.'  With  the  una- 
nimous assent  of  the  council,  Henry 
was  publicly  married  to  the  princess 
by  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury ; 
their  coronation  followed ;  and  these 
two  events  were  celebrated  with  re- 
joicings, which  occupied  the  court 
during  the  remaining  part  of  the 
year. 

The  first  public  acts  of  the  young 
monarch  were  calculated  to  win  the 
affections  of  his  people.  Henry  con- 
firmed by  proclamation  the  general 
pardon  which  had  been  granted  by 
his  father,  offered  redress  to  all  persons 
who  had  been  aggrieved  by  the  late 
commission  of  forfeitures,  and  ordered 
the  arrest  of  Empson  and  Dudley, 
the  chief  panders  to  the  rapacity  of 
the  late  king,  and  of  their  principal 
agents,  known  by  the  appellation 
of  "promoters."  The  latter,  having 
been  exposed  in  the  pillory  to  the 
derision  of  the  people,  or  compelled  to 
ride  through  the  city  with  their  faces 
to  the  tails  of  their  horses,  were  con- 
demned to  different  terms  of  impri- 


sonment; the  former  were  brought 
before  the  council,  and  charged  with 
having  usu-rped  the  authority  of  the 
courts  of  law,  extorted  from  heirs 
exorbitant  compositions  for  the  livery 
of  their  lands,  refused  to  receive  the 
answers  of  the  accused  until  they  had 
paid  for  that  indulgence,  and  wrong- 
fully maintained  that  lands,  possessed 
on  other  tenures,  were  held  in  chief 
of  the  crown.  The  prisoners  defended 
themselves  with  eloquence  and  with 
success.  However  harsh  and  ini- 
quitous in  itself  their  conduct  might 
have  been,  it  was  justified  by  pre- 
cedent, by  the  existing  provisions  of 
the  law,  and  by  the  tenor  of  their 
commission ;  and  therefore,  to  hush 
the  clamours  of  the  people,  it  was 
deemed  proper  to  accuse  them  of 
a  new  offence,  a  design  to  secure  the 
person  of  the  young  king  on  the 
death  of  his  father,  and  to  possess 
themselves  of  all  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment. The  charge  was  too  absurd  to 
deserve  credit ;  but  it  seems  to  have 
been  admitted  throughout  the  whole 
of  this  reign,  that  if  the  crown  brought 
an  individual  to  his  trial,  it  mattered 
little  by  what  device  his  conviction 
was  procured.  Witnesses  were  found 
to  depose  that  the  obnoxious  minis- 
ters, during  the  illness  of  the  late  king, 
had  summoned  their  friends  to  be 
arms,  and  ready  to  accompany  them 
to  London  on  an  hour's  notice ;  and 
juries  were  induced  on  this  flimsy  pre- 
text to  pronounce  them  guilty  of  a  con- 
spiracy against  the  safety  of  the  state. 
Dudley  was  convicted  at  the  Guild- 
hall, Empson  at  Northampton ;  but 


1  Ipsam  ille  supra    omnes  mulieres  ap- 
petebat,  supra  omnes  arnahat,  et  illi  se  con- 

jungi    appetebat antequam    illi    con- 

jungeretur,  hoc  eaepe  ilium  diiisse.— Ibid. 
§3,  84. 

2  Polyd.  619.     llenry  acknowledged  the 
troth  of  her  assertion  to  her  nephew  the 
emperor,  as  is  observed  by  Cardinal  Pole  in 
his  letter  to  the  king,  entitled,  Pro  unitatis 
ecclesitwticse  defensione.   Tu  ipse  hoc  fassus 
es,  virginem  te  accepisse,  ot  Csesari  fassus 
es,  cui  minime  erpediebat,  ei  turn  dedivortio 


cogitares,  hoc  fateri,  f.  lixvii.  Ixrnii. 
Roma?,  apud  Antonium  Eladum  Asulanura. 
—Peter  Martyr,  in  a  letter  dated  May  6th, 
1509,  before  the  marriage  tells  us  that  the 
same  was  the  belief  in  Spain.  Est  opinio 
sponsum  primum  intactaui,  quia  invalidus 
erat  a;tate  non  roatura,  reliquisse.— Pet. 
Mart.  Ep.  p.  207.  On  this  account  she  was 
married  with  the  ceremonies  appropriated 
to  the  nuptials  of  maids.  She  was  dresseii 
in  white,  and  wore  h«r  hair '.  Jose.— Sandford, 


170 


HEN11Y  VIII. 


LCHAP.  vi, 


their  execution  was  respited  at  the 
intercession,  it  was  believed,  of  the 
youog  queen.  When  the  parliament 
met  after  Christmas,  it  passed  an  act 
of  attainder  against  them  for  a  crime, 
which  they  had  not  committed ;  and 
endeavoured  to  remedy  the  abuses,  of 
which  they  had  been  really  guilty.  All 
persons  whom  they  had  falsely  pro- 
nounced tenants  in  capite,  recovered 
their  former  rights ;  the  qualifications 
and  duties  of  escheators  were  accu- 
rately defined;  and  the  term  for 
bringing  actions  on  penal  statutes  in 
favour  of  the  crown  was  limited  to 
the  three  years  immediately  following 
the  alleged  offence.  It  seems  pro- 
bable that  the  king,  satisfied  with  their 
forfeitures  would  have  suffered  them 
to  linger  out  their  lives  in  confine- 
ment; but,  during  his  progress  the 
next  summer,  he  was  so  harassed  with 
the  complaints  and  remonstrances  of 
the  people,  that  he  signed  the  warrant 
for  their  execution.  They  suffered 
on  Tower-hill;  and  their  blood  not 
only  silenced  the  clamour  of  their 
enemies,  but  supplied  the  officers  of 
the  treasury  with  an  excuse  for  refus- 
ing to  redress  the  wrongs  of  which 
these  unfortunate  men  had  been  the 
original  authors.1 

Peace  abroad,  and  tranquillity  at 
home,  allowed  the  young  monarch  to 
indulge  his  natural  taste  for  amuse- 
ments and  pleasure.  During  two 
years  his  court  presented  an  almost 
uninterrupted  succession  of  balls  and 
revels,  devices  fend  pageants,  which, 
in  the  absence  of  more  important 
transactions,  have  been  minutely  re- 
corded by  historians.  He  excelled  in 
all  the  accomplishments  of  the  age; 
but  chiefly  prided  himself  on  his  pro- 
ficiency in  the  martial  exercises.  The 
queen  and  her  ladies,  the  foreign  am- 
bassadors and  native  nobility,  were 
repeatedly  summoned  to  behold  the 


king  of  England  fighting  at  barriers 
with  the  two-handed  sword,  or  the 
battle-axe ;  and  on  all  these  occasions 
so  active  and  adroit  was  the  prince,  or 
so  politic  were  his  adversaries,  that 
he  invariably  obtained  the  prize.3  Hia 
vanity  was  quickly  inflamed  by  the 
praises  which  he  received ;  he  longed 
to  make  trial  of  his  prowess  in  real 
war ;  and  cherished  the  hope  of  equal- 
ling the  reputation  of  the  most  re- 
nowned among  his  ancestors,  the 
third  Edward,  and  the  fifth  Henry. 
It  was  not  long  before  his  wishes  were 
gratified  by  the  quarrel  between 
Julius,  the  Eoman  pontiff,  and 
Louis  XII.,  king  of  France. 

As  this  was  the  first  occasion  on 
which  England  took  a  decided  part  in 
the  politics  of  the  continent,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  direct  the  reader's 
attention  to  the  state  of  Italy,  and  to 
the  real  objects  of  the  adverse  parties. 
1.  In  the  north  of  Italy,  Milan  had 
been  annexed  to  the  French  crown 
by  Louis  XII.,  who,  pursuing  the  am- 
bitious projects  of  his  ancestors,  had 
expelled  the  reigning  duke,  Ludovico 
Sforza,  and  by  successive  aggrandize- 
ments awakened  the  fears  of  all  his 
neighbours.  2.  In  the  south,  the 
crown  of  Naples  had  been  wrested 
from  Frederic,  king  of  the  T\vo  Sici- 
lies, by  the  combined  armies  of  France 
and  Spain.  The  allies  divided  their 
conquest;  but  dissensions  followed; 
battles  were  fought  to  the  disadvan- 
tage of  the  French ;  and  the  kingdom 
at  last  remained  in  the  undisputed 
possession  of  Ferdinand.  Both  Fer- 
dinand and  Louis  were,  however, 
considered  as  foreign  usurpers  by  the 
native  powers,  among  which  the  most 
considerable  were  the  republic  of 
Venice,  and  the  ecclesiastical  state, 
3.  The  Venetians,  enriched  by  com- 
merce, and  supported  by  armies  of 
mercenaries,  had  gradually  become  the 


1  Polydore,  620.  Herbert,  5,  6,  12,  13. 
UOMS,  xiv.  Lords'  Journals,  i.  9.  Stat. 
1  Hen.  VIII.  4,  8,  12—15.  The  heirs  of 


both  were  restored  in  blood  It  1512. 
2  See  in  particular  Hall,  1—12. 


4.D.  1510.] 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  CAMERA Y. 


171 


envy  and  terror  of  the  Italian  princes. 
If,  on  the  one  hand,  they  formed  the 
strongest  bulwark  of  Christendom 
against  the  Turks,  on  the  other  they 
had  usurped  possession  of  a  consider- 
able territory  on  the  coast  of  the 
Adriatic,  and  by  their  pride  and  ambi- 
tion given  both  to  the  common  belief, 
that  they  aspired  to  the  entire  domi- 
nion of  Italy.  4  The  patrimony  of 
/the  Roman  see,  though  intersected 
by  smaller  states,  reached  from  the 
borders  of  Naples  to  the  late  acqui- 
sitions of  the  Venetians.  It  was 
under  the  government  of  Julius  II., 
who  retained  in  the  chill  of  age  all 
the  fire  of  youth,  and  seemed  to  have 
exchanged  the  duties  of  a  Christian 
bishop  for  the  occupations  of  a  states- 
man and  warrior.  The  great  objects 
of  his  policy  were  to  extend  the 
limits  of  the  papal  dominions,  and  to 
free  Italy  from  the  yoke  of  the 
strangers.  His  own  resources  were, 
indeed,  inadequate  to  these  objects; 
but  he  supplied  the  deficiency  by  the 
skill  with  which  he  wielded  his  spi- 
ritual arms,  and  the  success  with 
which  he  sought  the  co-operation  of 
the  greater  powers.  At  first  he 
deemed  it  prudent  to  dissemble  his 
jealousy  of  Louis  and  Ferdinand,  and 
directed  his  whole  attention  to  the 
more  formidable  encroachments  of 
the  Venetians.  By  severing  from  the 
church  the  northern  part  of  Romagna, 
they  bad  furnished  him  with  a  rea- 
sonable cause  of  hostility;  and  to 
insure  success  to  his  project,  he  ap- 
plied to  their  several  enemies;  to 
Maximilian,  the  emperor  elect,  who 
claimed  from  them  Treviso,  Padua, 
Verona,  and  the  Friuli,  as  fiefs  of  the 
empire ;  to  Louis,  who  demanded 
as  part  of  his  duchy  of  Milan,  the 
territory  whith  they  possessed  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Adda ;  and  to  Fer- 
dinand, who  was  anxious  to  recover 
Trani,  Monopoli,  Brindisi,  and  Otran- 
to,  seaports  in  Naples,  which  they  held 
as  securities  for  a  loan  of  money. 


The  ministers  of  the  four  powers 
met  under  different  pretexts  in  the 
city  of  Cambray ;  and  the  result  was  a 
confederacy  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
fining the  republic  within  its  ancient 
limits.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  Vene- 
tians opposed  a  gallant  resistance  to 
so  many  adversaries.  Broken  by 
repeated  defeats,  they  implored  the 
pity  of  Julius,  who,  content  to  have 
humbled  their  pride,  was  unwilling 
that  their  dominions  should  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  barbarians,  the  term 
by  which  he  designated  his  allies 
beyond  the  Alps.  At  the  solicita- 
tion, as  it  was  pretended,  of  the  king 
of  England,  he  consented  to  a  peace 
with  the  republic ;  and  to  the  loud 
complaints  of  the  French  minister, 
replied,  that  he  had  reserved  this 
power  to  himself  by  the  treaty  of 
Biagrassa;  that  the  great  object  of 
the  alliance  at  Cambray  had  been 
accomplished ;  and  that,  if  Louis  and 
Maximilian  aimed  at  more  extensive 
conquests,  it  was  unreasonable  to 
expect  that  he  should  aid  or  sanction 
their  injustice.  His  real  views,  how- 
ever gradually  unfolded  themselves; 
and  the  papal  army  unexpectedly 
entered  the  territories  of  Alphonso, 
duke  of  Ferrara,  a  vassal  of  the  holy 
see.  The  pretext  for  this  invasion 
was  supplied  by  one  of  those  nume- 
rous but  ill-defined  claims,  which 
grew  out  of  the  feudal  jurisprudence ; 
but  Louis,  who  knew  that  the  pontiff 
had  already  concluded  a  secret  alliance 
with  the  Venetians,  judged  that  tne 
real  offence  of  Alphonso  was  his 
known  attachment  to  France,  and 
ordered  his  army  in  the  Milanese  to 
hasten  to  the  support  of  his  ally. 

At  the  approach  of  Chaumont,  the 
French  commander,  Julius  retired  to 
Bologna,  and  to  his  inexpressible  sur- 
prise found  himself  besieged  in  that 
city.  Fatigue  and  vexation  brought 
on  a  fever,  which  confined  him  to 
his  bed ;  but  his  spirit  was  unbroken ; 
and  if,  at  the  entreaty  of  the  cardinal^ 


172 


31ENKV  Vlli. 


"LCHAP.  n. 


he  consented  to  open  a  negotiation, 
bis  only  object  was  to  gain  time  for 
tbe  arrival  of  reinforcements.  Co- 
lonna,  at  the  bead  of  a  body  of  Spanish 
horse,  was  the  first  to  offer  his  ser- 
vices :  the  papal  troops  followed ;  and 
Chaumont,  who  had  insisted  on  the 
the  most  mortifying  concessions,  found 
himself  compelled  to  retire  in  disgrace 
to  the  Milanese  territory,  where  he 
died  of  a  broken  heart.  This  transac- 
tion furnished  the  pontiff  with  a  plau- 
sible ground  of  hostility  against  Louis ; 
and  every  court  in  Europe  resounded 
with  his  complaints  of  the  overbearing 
insolence  of  the  French,  who,  during 
a  time  of  peace,  had  insulted  the  head 
of  the  church  in  one  of  his  own  cities, 
and  had  even  endeavoured  to  make 
him  their  prisoner.1 

In  the  following  spring  the  French 
arms  assumed  a  decided  superiority 
under  the  marshal  Trivulzi.  Bologna 
opened  its  gates  to  him  during  an 
insurrection  of  the  populace.  The 
pontiff  had  previously  sought  an 
asylum  within  the  walls  of  Ravenna; 
and  his  enemies,  the  Bentivogli,  re- 
covered their  estates,  honours,  and 
the  government  of  the  city.  About 
the  same  time  three  cardinals  in 
Milan,  under  the  protection,  and  at 
the  instigation  of  Louis  and  Maxi- 
milian, proclaimed  a  general  council 
to  assemble  at  Pisa,  "for  the  refor- 
mation of  the  church  both  in  its  head 
and  its  members."  In  this  emergency 
Julius  betrayed  no  symptom  of  alarm. 
He  opposed  council  to  council,  sum- 
moned the  bishops  of  Christendom  to 
meet  him  in  synod  at  the  Basilic  of 
St.  John  Lateran,  deposed  and  ex- 
communicated five  cardinals,  who  had 
joined  the  council  at  Pisa*  and  de- 


prived their  adherents  of  all  rights, 
possessions,  and  honours.  At  the 
same  time  his  ministers  at  the  dif- 
ferent courts  inveighed  against  the 
schism  which  had  been  created  by 
the  resentment  of  Louis,  and  against 
that  ambition  which,  not  content  with 
the  powerful  kingdom  of  France,  had 
seized  on  the  duchy  of  Milan,  and 
now  sought  to  add  to  Milan  the  terri- 
tories of  the  church.  The  last  argu- 
ment had  considerable  weight  with 
those  princes  who  viewed  with 
jealousy  the  progressive  aggrandize- 
ment of  the  French  crown,  and  be- 
lieved that  its  possessors  aspired  to 
universal  empire.2 

It  was  not  long  before  an  alliance 
defensive  and  offensive  was  signed 
between  Ferdinand,  the  pope,  and 
and  the  republic  of  Venice ;  and  an 
invitation  was  given  to  all  Christian 
princes  to  accede  to  the  "  holy  league," 
which  had  for  its  object  the  extinc- 
tion of  schism,  and  the  defence  of 
the  Roman  church.3  Maximilian 
affected  to  hesitate;  at  length  he 
recalled  his  promise  to  Louis,  and 
joined  the  allies ;  but  the  young  king 
of  England  had  instantly  assented  to 
the  entreaties  of  the  pontiff,  and  the 
advice  of  his  father-in-law.  His 
vanity  was  gratified  with  the  title 
of  "head  of  the  Italian  league;" 
Julius  promised  to  reward  his  services 
with  the  appellation  of  "  most  Chris- 
tian king,"  which  Louis  had  forfeited 
by  his  schismatical  conduct ;  and  his 
flatterers  fed  his  ambition  with  the 
vain  hope  of  recovering  the  French 
provinces,  which  had  been  wrested 
on  former  occasions  from  the  posses- 
sion of  his  ancestors.  As  a  prepara- 
tory step,  Toung,  the  English  ambas- 


i  See  Guicciardinl.  p.  806,  608,  Venezia, 
1738;  Pet.  Mart.  Ep.  p.  235;  Muratori, 
xiv.  p.  73,  74. 

3  Thase  sentiments  are  thus  expressed  by 
Peter  Martyr  in  a  letter  written  in  the 
beginning  of  October.  Puto  regem  nostrum 


pontificis  causam  Busccpturum  :  turn  qui» 
pium,  turn  quia  de  communi  omnium  agitur 
libertate.  Si  enirn  pontiflcem  Gallus  straverit, 
sub  pedibus  se  sperat  nniversam  Italiam 
habitarum,  leges  {uedaturumuniversSs  Chris- 
tianae  religionis  principibus,  quales  libuerit 
(p.  246).  3  Eyra.  xui.  306. 


A.D.  1512.] 


EXPEDITION  AGAINST  crUIENNE 


173 


sador,  accompanied  by  the  envoys  of 
Scotland  and  Spain,  exhorted  Louis 
to  consent  to  a  reconciliation  with 
the  pontiff  on  the  following  condi- 
tions :  that  Bologna  should  be  re- 
stored to  the  church,  the  council  at 
Pisa  be  dissolved,  and  the  cause  of 
Alphonso  be  referred  to  impartial 
judges.  But  the  French  cabinet  was 
acquainted  with  the  real  intentions 
of  its  enemies ;  an  evasive  answer 
was  returned ;  and  immediately  a 
new  treaty  was  concluded  between 
the  kings  of  England  and  Spain,  by 
which  it  was  stipulated  that  against 
the  month  of  April  Henry  should 
have  in  readiness  an  army  of  six 
thousand  five  hundred,  Ferdinand 
one  of  nine  thousand  men  ;  that  this 
combined  force  should  invade  the 
duchy  of  G  uienne ;  and  that  for  the 
safeguard  of  the  sea,  each  power 
should  furnish  an  armament  of  equal 
strength,  composed  of  soldiers  and 
mariners,  to  the  amount  of  three 
thousand  men.1  To  make  good  these 
engagements,  Henry  obtained  from 
his  parliament  a  supply  of  two  tenths, 
and  two  fifteenths ;  and  immediately 
Clarenceaux,  king-at-arms,  claimed  of 
Louis  in  the  name  of  his  master  the 
restoration  of  the  ancient  patrimony 
of  the  English  crown  in  France. 
The  refusal  was  followed  by  a  denun- 
ciation of  war;  the  marquess  of  Dorset 
sailed  with  the  army  in  Spanish  trans- 
ports to  the  coast  of  Guipuscoa  ;  and 
the  fleet,  under  the  command  of  Sir 
Edward  Howard,  lord  admiral,  cruised 
during  the  summer  between  Eng- 
land and  Spain.2 

Jean  d'Albret,  who  held  the  prin- 
cipality of  Bearne  as  the  vassal  of  the 
French  crown,  had  succeeded  in  right 
of  his  wife,  the  infanta  Catalina,  to 


the  throne  of  Navarre ;  out  his  claim 
was  opposed  by  a  dangerous  compe- 
titor, Gaston  de  Foix,  nephew  of  the 
French  monarch.  To  preserve  him- 
self on  the  throne,  he  gladly  acceded 
to  the  league ;  but  within  a  fewrnonlhs 
Gaston  fell  in  the  battle  of  Ravenna, 
and  the  king,  freed  from  his  rival, 
concluded  a  secret  treaty  with  Louis. 
By  this  defection,  however,  he  for- 
feited the  crown  which  he  had  been 
so  anxious  to  retain.  "When  tho 
English  general,  in  obedience  to  his 
instructions,  prepared  to  march  by 
Fontarabia  against  Bayonne,  Ferdi- 
nand objected  that  it  was  previously 
necessary  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  the 
king  of  Navarre,  who  might  at  any 
moment  during  the  siege  cut  off  their 
communication  with  Spain,  and  de- 
stroy the  combined  army  by  famine. 
A  joint  embassy  was  sent  to  d'Albret ; 
his  promises  of  neutrality  were  dis- 
trusted, and  the  temporary  occupa- 
tion of  his  principal  fortresses  was 
demanded.  During  the  negociation 
Ferdinand  obtained  a  copy  of  the 
alliance  which  the  Navarrese  had 
recently  concluded  with  Louis,  and 
immediately  ordered  the  duke  of  Alva 
to  lay  siege  to  his  capital.  Its  reduction 
was  quickly  followed  by  the  submis- 
sion of  the  rest  of  the  kingdom ;  and 
Jean  with  his  consort,  leaving  Bearne 
in  the  occupation  of  the  French  army, 
fled  to  the  court  of  his  ally.  The 
marquess  of  Dorset,  who  lay  inactive 
at  Fontarabia,  frequently  protested 
against  the  invasion  of  Navarre,  as 
an  enterprise  unconnected  with  the 
object  of  the  expedition ;  but  Fer- 
dinand despatched  a  messenger  to 
London,  to  complain  of  the  obsti- 
nacy of  the  English  general,  and  to 
request  that  he  might  be  furnished 


i  Bym.  xiii.  311-319. 

a  Ibid.  327—329.  The  fleet  consisted  of 
eighteen  ships.  The  largest  of  these,  of  1,000 
tons  burden,  belonged  t<xthe  king,  and  car- 
ried  700  soldiers,  gnn?  i,  and  mariners, 
The  others  were  of  diflt  it  sises,  from  500 


to  100  tons,  and  carried  17  captains,  1,750 
soldiers,  and  1,233  gunners  and  mariuei-3. 
The  admiral  received  ten.  shillings  per  day : 
each  captain  one  shilling  and  sixpence  ;  all 
others  ten  shillings  per  lunar  month,  one 
half  for  wages,  the  other  half  for  provisions. 
-Ibid. 


171 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  vi, 


with  new  and  more  ample  instruc- 
tions. 

The  Spanish  army  had  now  reached 
St.  Jean  Pie  de  Port;  the  English 
were  invited  to  join  them  at  that 
town ;  and  the  invasion  of  Guicnne 
was  at  length  seriously  proposed.  But 
the  marquess,  whose  mind  had  been 
soured  by  disappointment,  refused  to 
give  credit  to  the  assertions  of  the 
Spanish  monarch,  or  to  enter  France 
by  any  other  route  than  that  which 
was  laid  down  in  his  instructions. 
Six  weeks  were  consumed  in  dispute 
and  recrimination ;  disease  and  a  spirit 
of  mutiny  began  to  spread  in  the  Eng- 
lish camp;  Dorset  required  permis- 
sion to  return  with  his  forces  to  his 
own  country ;  and  Ferdinand  con- 
sented to  furnish  transports  accord- 
ing to  the  treaty  between  the  crowns. 
When  it  was  too  late,  Windsor  herald 
arrived  with  orders  for  the  army  to 
remain,  and  to  obey  the  commands 
of  the  Spanish  king.  Its  departure 
was  a  severe  mortification  to  Henry, 
who  had  flattered  himself  with  the 
hope  of  recovering  Guienne ;  but, 
though  he  received  the  general  and 
principal  officers  with  strong  expres- 
sions of  displeasure,  he  was  at  a  later 
period  induced  to  listen  to  their  ex- 
culpation, and  to  entertain  a  suspi- 
cion that  his  father-in-law  might 
have  been  more  attentive  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  Spanish,  than  to  those 
of  the  English  crown.  Ferdinand, 
indeed,  reaped  the  principal  fruit  of 
the  campaign  by  the  conquest  of 
Navarre,  which  is  still  possessed  by  his 
successors.  Louis,  on  the  other  hand, 
took  possession  of  Bearne;  and  the 
unfortunate  Jean  d'Albret  saw  him- 


self despoiled  of  all  his  dominions 
by  the  jealousy  and  ambition  of  his 
more  powerful  neighbours.1 

By  sea  the  English  arms  were  not 
more  fortunate  than  by  land.  Sir 
Edward  Howard,  after  repeated  de- 
scents on  the  coast  of  Bretagne,  fell 
in  with  the  French  fleet  of  twenty 
sail,  under  the  command  of  Primauget. 
Sir  Charles  Brandon,  afterwards  duke 
of  Suffolk,  who  was  nearest  to  the 
enemy,  without  waiting  for  orders 
bore  down  on  the  Cordelier  of  Brest, 
a  vessel  of  enormous  bulk,  and  car- 
rying a  complement  of  nine  hundred 
men.  His  ship  was  quickly  dismasted 
by  the  superior  fire  of  his  adversary ; 
and  falling  astern,  he  reluctantly 
yielded  his  place  to  his  rival  Sir 
Thomas  Knyvet,  a  young  knight  of 
more  courage  than  experience,  who 
commanded  the  Regent,  the  largest 
vessel  in  the  English  navy.  The 
combat  continued  for  more  than  an 
hour;  but  another  ship  coming  to 
the  aid  of  Knyvet,  Primauget,  to 
save  the  honour  of  his  flag,  set  riro 
to  the  Cordelier ;  the  flames  com- 
municated to  the  Regent,  and  both 
vessels  were  entirely  consumed.  The 
rest  of  the  French  fleet  escaped  into 
the  harbour  of  Brest ;  and  "  Sir 
Edward  made  his  vow  to  God,  that 
he  would  never  more  see  the  king 
in  the  face,  till  he  had  revenged  the 
death  of  the  noble  and  valiant  knight 
Sir  Thomas  Knyvet."2  To  console 
himself  for  the  loss  of  the  Regent, 
Henry  built  a  still  more  capacious 
and  stately  vessel,  which  he  named 
the  "  Henry  grace  Dieu." 

Though  the  king  of  England  reaped 
neither  glory  nor  advantage  from  these 


1  Polydore,  627,  628.  Herbert,  20—24, 
Pet.  Mart.  Ep.  p.  254, 256,  263, 264,  267,  268, 
269,  271.  Elfis,  2.  Ser.  i.  108—203.  Wol- 
sey,  apud  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  8.  It  has  been 
said  that  Ferdinand  kept  possession  in 
virtue  of  a  papal  bull,  deposing  D'Albret 
for  his  adherence  to  schismatics;  but  the 
existence  of  such  a  bull  is  verr  doubtful. — 
See  Notices  des  MSS.  du  Roy,  'ii.  570. 


2  Polydore,  630.  Wolsey's  letters  to  Fox, 
apud  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  9.  The  loss  of  the 
Kegent  was  considered  of  such  importance, 
that  it  was  concealed  from  the  public. 
"  My  lorde,  at  the  reverens  of  God  kepe 
these  tydyngs  secret  to  vowr  sy If :  for  ther 
ys  no  lyvyng  man  knowyth  the  same  here 
but  only  the  kyng  and  I." — Ibid. 


A.D.  1512.] 


DEATH  OF  POPE  JULIUS. 


175 


events,  his  efforts  contributed  mate- 
rially to  accomplish  the  chief  object 
of  the  league.  The  French  had 
opened  the  campaign  in  Italy  with 
their  accustomed  impetuosity  and 
success.  They  drove  the  papal  and 
Spanish  armies  before  them,  forced 
the  intrenched  camp  under  the  walls 
of  Ravenna,  and  made  themselves 
master  of  that  city.  But  if  it  was  a 
splendid,  it  was  also  a  disastrous  vic- 
tory. Ten  thousand  of  their  men  fell 
in  the  action,  with  the  General  Gaston 
de  Foix,  a  young  nobleman  of  distin- 
guished intrepidity  and  talent ;  and 
La  Palice,  who  succeeded  to  the  com- 
mand, having  reduced  the  rest  of 
E-omagna,  led  back  the  remnant  of 
the  conquerors  to  Milan,  from  which 
city  he  wrote  the  most  urgent  letters, 
soliciting  supplies  both  of  men  and 
of  money.  But  the  resources  of 
Louis  were  exhausted ;  and  the 
necessity  of  equipping  a  fleet  to  pre- 
serve from  insult  his  maritime  pro- 
vinces, and  at  the  same  time  of  col- 
lecting forces  to  repel  the  threatened 
irruption  of  the  English  and  Spanish 
armies  on  the  southern  frontier,  ren- 
dered him  deaf  to  the  prayers  and 
remonstances  of  La  Palice.  Com- 
pelled by  the  murderous  hostility  of 
the  natives,  and  the  rapid  advance  of 
a  body  of  Swiss  in  the  pay  of  the 
pontiff,  the  French  abandoned  Milan 
to  Maximilian  Sforza,  the  son  of  the 
late  duke.  On  the  left  bank  of  the 
Ticino  they  turned  in  despair  on 
their  pursuers ;  but  the  loss  of  one- 
fourth  of  their  number  taught  them 


to  precipitate  their  flight ;  and  before 
Christmas  Julius  was  able  to  boast 
that  he  had  fulfilled  his  promise,  and 
"had  chased  the  barbarians  beyond 
the  Alps."1 

Experience  had  now  convinced 
Louis  that  he  was  not  equal  to  the 
task  of  opposing  so  many  enemies; 
and  the  repose  of  winter  was  success- 
fully employed  in  attempts  to  debauch 
the  fidelity  of  some  among  the  con- 
federates. Julius,  who  had  been  t'  e 
soul  of  the  league,  died  in  Februai  y ; 
and  the  new  pope,  Leo  X.,  though  he 
did  not  recede  from  the  engageme  ts 
of  his  predecessor,  gave  but  a  feeble 
support  to  a  cause  which  he  had  never 
cordially  approved.  While  Ju'iu? 
lived,  his  authority  had  silenced  the 
opposite  claims  of  the  emperor  and 
the  Venetians;  but  they  now  quar- 
relled about  the  partition  of  heir 
late  conquests,  and  the  republic, 
listening  to  the  offers  of  Louis,  con- 
sented to  unite  her  arms  and  for  ane 
with  those  of  France.  Even  Fer- 
dinand suffered  himself  to  be  seduced 
by  the  proposal  of  an  armistice,  that 
he  might  have  leisure  to  establish 
his  authority  in  the  newly  acq  ired 
kingdom  of  Navarre.2  But  Henry 
was  inexorable.  He  longed  to  wipe 
away  the  disgrace  of  the  last  year: 
and  the  feelings  of  the  people  har- 
monised with  those  of  their  sovereign. 
The  clergy  granted  him  two  tenths, 
the  laity  a  tenth,  a  fifteenth,  and  rl 
capitation  tax  towards  the  prosecution 
of  the  war.3  The  future  operations 
of  the  campaign  were  arranged  by  a 


1  Polydore,    625,    626.      Gnicciard.    707. 
Pet.  Mart.  P.  156.    Muratori,  xiv.  106.    The 
latter  observes  of  Julius,  Eisoluto,   come 
egli  sempre  andava  dicendo,  di  voler  cac- 
ciare  i  barbari  d'ltalia,  senza  pensare  se 
queato  fosse  un  mestiere  da  sommo  pastor 
dell  a  chiesa.— p.  92. 

2  Hym.  liii.  350. 

3  TLis  tax  was  fixed  after  the  following 
rates  (Bolls  xxvi.  xxvii.) : 

£    ».  d. 

A  duke    6  13    4 

Marquess  or  earl 400 

Wives  of  ditto  400 


Baron,  baronet,  and  baroness 2    0    C 

Other  knights  not  lords  of  parlia- 
ment      1  10   O 

Proprietors    of  lands  above  40Z. 

yearly  value  IOC 

From  201.  to  4f)l 0  10    0 

101.  to  201 0    6    O 

21.  to  101 020 

Below  21 010 

The  possessors  of  personal  pro- 
perty, value  8001 2  13     4 

From  400Z.  to  8001 2    0 

2001.  to4Ml 168 

1001.  to  2001 ..  0  13    4 


U'G 


11ENKY  VII L. 


ICIlAl*.  VI. 


treaty  between  the  emperor,  and  the 
kings  of  England  and  Spain,  by  which 
each  prince  bound  himself  to  declare 
war  against  Louis,  and  to  invade 
within  two  months  the  kingdom  of 
France.1  Maximilian  and  Henry 
faithfully  complied  with  their  engage- 
ments ;  but  Ferdinand  disavowed  the 
act  of  his  ambassador ;  nor  were  pre- 
tences wanting  to  so  skilful  a  poli- 
tician, in  justification  of  that  con- 
duct, which  it  was  now  his  interest 
to  pursue. 

In  April  Sir  Edward  Howard  sailed 
to  accomplish  his  vow,  and  fell  a  mar- 
tyr to  his  favourite  maxim,  that  teme- 
rity becomes  a  virtue  at  sea.  He  was 
blockading  the  harbour  of  Brest, 
when  it  was  suggested  to  him  to 
cut  out  a  squadron  of  six  galleys 
under  Prejent,  or  Prior  John,  moored 
in  the  bay  of  Conquet  between  rocks 
planted  with  cannon.  Taking  two 
galleys  and  four  boats,  he  rowed  up 
to  the  enemy,  leaped  on  the  deck  of 
the  largest  vessel,  and  was  followed 
by  Carroz,  a  Spanish  cavalier,  and 
sixteen  Englishmen.  Unfortunately 
his  own  galley,  which  had  been  or- 
dered to  grapple  with  her  opponent, 
fell  astern ;  the  gallant  Sir  Edward 
and  his  companions  were  borne  over- 
board by  a  superior  force;  and  the 
fleet,  disconcerted  by  the  loss  of  its 
commander,  hastened  back  into  port.2 
Prejent  seized  the  opportunity  to  in- 
sult the  coast  of  Sussex ;  but  the  king 
ordered  the  lord  Thomas  Howard  to 
take  the  place  and  revenge  the  death 
of  his  brother ;  and  the  new  admiral, 
having  chased  the  enemy  into  Brest, 
and  captured  several  valuable  prizes, 
returned,  to  cover  with  the  fleet  the 


passage  of  the  army  from  Dover  to 
Calais.  Henry  was  now  ready  to  re- 
conquer the  patrimony  of  his  ances- 
tors ;  and  the  people  of  France  trem- 
bled at  the  exaggerated  reports  of 
his  ambition  and  resources.3  Five- 
aud-twenty  thousand  men  sailed  at 
different  periods,  in  three  divisions; 
two  under  the  command  of  the  earl 
of  Shrewsbury  and  the  lord  Herbert, 
the  last  under  that  of  the  king  him- 
self; who  before  his  departure  ap- 
pointed "  his  most  dear  consort 
Queen  Catherine  rectrix  and  go- 
vernor  of  the  realm;"4  and  left 
orders  for  the  immediate  execution 
of  his  prisoner  the  unfortunate  earl 
of  Suffolk.  The  reader  will  recollect 
that  this  nobleman  had  been  attainted 
in  the  last  reign,  but  had  been  rescued 
from  the  block  by  the  prayers  and 
importunity  of  the  archduke  Philip. 
His  present  fate  was  generally  attri- 
buted to  the  advice  which  the  young 
Henry  had  received  from  his  father ; 
it  was  more  probably  owing  to  the 
imprudence  of  Richard  de  la  Pole, 
who  had  accepted  a  high  command 
in  the  French  army,  and  assumed  the 
rival  appellation  of  the  "  white  rose." 
This  at  least  is  certain,  that  the  am- 
bassadors at  foreign  courts  received 
instructions  to  justify  his  execution, 
by  alleging  the  discovery  of  a  traitorous 
correspondence  between  the  two  bro- 
thers.5 

Shrewsbury  and  Herbert  had  al- 
ready formed  the  siege  of  Terouenne, 
while  the  young  king  loitered  for 
weeks  at  Calais,  spending  his  time 
in  carousals  and  entertainments.  At 
length  he  reached  the  camp,  where 
he  was  joined  by  the  emperor,  at  the 


From  401.  to  1001 0    «    8 

201.  to    40/ 034 

101.  to   201 0    1     8 

21.  to    Wl 010 

Labourers  and  servants  with  wages 

of  21.  yearly  010 

From  II.  to  21 006 

All  other  persons 004 

Fram  these  rates  it  appears  that  the  old 


distinction  between  greater  and  lesser 
barons  was  not  yet  abolished.  They  are 
called  barons  and  baronets,  and  are  con- 
sidered equally  as  lords  of  parliament. 

1  Kym.  xiii.'35i— 363. 

2  Herbert  (p.  31),  from  a  letter  of  Sir  Ed. 
Echingham. 

3  Christianornm  principum  neminem  ma- 
gis  verentiir  GaUi.— Pet.  Mart.  p.  248. 

*  Bym.  xiii.  370,  373.     *  Pet.  Mart.  D  86, 


I.D.  1513.J 


THE  BATTLE  OF  SPUES. 


177 


head  of  four  thousand  hoise.1  Maxi- 
milian, to  flatter  the  vanity  of  his 
young  ally,  and  to  avoid  any  dispute 
about  precedency,  called  himself  tho 
volunteer  of  the  king  of  England,  wore 
his  badge  of  the  red  rose,  put  on  the 
cross  of  St.  George,  and  accepted  one 
hundred  crowns  for  his  daily  pay. 
Louis  on  the  other  hand  determined 
to  relieve  Terouenne ;  he  even  ad- 
vanced to  the  neighbouring  city  of 
Amiens ;  but  his  pride  was  humbled 
by  the  signal  defeat  of  his  army  at 
Novara  in  Italy;  his  fears  were  ex- 
cited by  the  news  that  three  thousand 
German  cavalry,  and  a  numerous  body 
of  Swiss  infantry  in  the  pay  of  the 
emperor,  had  burst  into  Burgundy; 
and  his  council  earnestly  advised  him 
to  avoid  the  hazard  of  a  battle,  and 
to  seek  only  to  protract  the  siege.  A 
small  quantity  of  powder  and  provi- 
sion had  been  introduced  by  the 
intrepidity  of  Fonterailles,  who,  at 
the  head  of  eight  hundred  Albanian 
horsemen,  broke  through  the  lines, 
ordered  his  followers  to  throw  down 
their  burdens  at  the  gate,  and  wheel- 
ing round  reached  a  place  of  safety 
before  the  English  could  assemble  in 
sufficient  number  to  intercept  his 
retreat.  This  success  encouraged  a 
second  attempt  on  a  larger  scale. 
The  French  cavalry  had  been  col- 
lected at  Blangy ;  and,  dividing  into 
two  bodies,  advanced  along  the  oppo- 
site banks  of  the  Lis,  under  the  dukes 
of  Longueville  and  Alencon.  Henry 
had  the  wisdom  to  consult  the  ex- 
perience of  his  imperial  volunteer, 
who  was  acquainted  with  the  country, 
and  had  already  obtained  two  victories 
on  the  very  same  spot.  By  his  advice 
the  army  was  immediately  mustered ; 
Maximilian  hastened  to  meet  the 
enemy  with  the  German  horse,  and 
the  English  archers  on  horseback ; 


and  the  king  followed  with  the 
principal  part  of  the  infantry.  To 
account  for  the  result  of  the  action 
would  be  a  difficult  task.  The  French 
gendarmes,  formed  in  the  Italian  cam- 
paigns, had  acquired  the  reputation  of 
superior  courage  and  discipline ;  yet 
on  the  first  shock  of  the  advanced 
guards  they  fled ;  the  panic  shot 
through  the  whole  mass  of  the 
army ;  and  ten  thousand  of  the 
best  cavalry  in  Europe  were  pur- 
sued almost  four  miles  by  three 
troops  of  German,  and  a  few  hun- 
dreds of  English,  horse.  Their  offi- 
cers, in  the  attempt  to  rally  the 
fugitives,  were  abandoned  to  the 
mercy  of  the  enemy.  La  Palice  and 
Imbrecourt,  though  taken,  had  the 
good  fortune  to  make  their  escape ; 
but  the  duke  of  Longueville,  the 
marquess  of  Rotelin,  the  chevalier 
Bayard,  Bussy  d'Amboise,  Clermont, 
and  La  Fayette,  names  distinguished 
in  the  military  annals  of  France,  were, 
secured,  and  presented  to  Henry  and 
Maximilian.  During  the  action,  which 
the  French,  with  their  characteristic 
humour,  denominated  the  Battle  of 
Spurs,  a  sally  was  made  from  the 
walls,  and  the  duke  of  AlenQon 
attempted  to  break  through  the 
trenches;  but  the  first  was  repulsed 
by  the  lord  Herbert,  the  second  by 
the  earl  of  Shrewsbury ;  and  Teligni 
the  governor,  despairing  of  relief,  sur- 
rendered the  city.  It  had  proved  a 
formidable  neighbour  to  the  inha- 
bitants of  Aire  and  St.  Omer,  who 
were  allowed  by  Henry,  at  the  soli- 
citation of  Maximilian,  to  raze  its 
defences  with  the  ground.1* 

While  the  king  was  thus  demolish- 
ing the  chief  monument  of  his.  victor}', 
more  splendid  and  lasting  laurels  had 
been  won  by  his  lieutenant,  the  earl 
of  Surrey,  in  the  memorable  field  of 


1  Articles  of  war  were  printed  for  the 
government  of  his  host.    Gee  them  in  Mr. 
Kempe's  Loseley  MSB  HO. 
4 


s  Hall,  xxxii.  xxxiii.    Giovio,  1.  xi.  f.  100, 
101.   Lutetias,  1558.   Pet.  Mart.  p.  289.   l)u 
lleliay,  3—7.    Paris,  1588, 
If 


178 


1ILNRY  VIII. 


TCHJLP.  n. 


Flodden.  The  reader  ha*  noticed  in 
a  former  volume  that  James  IV.  of 
Scotland  had  married  Margaret,  the 
sister  of  Henry.  This  new  connec- 
tion did  not,  however,  extinguish  the 
hereditary  partiality  of  the  Scottish 
prince  for  the  ancient  alliance  with 
France ;  and  his  jealousy  of  his  Eng- 
lish brother  was  repeatedly  irritated 
by  a  succession  of  real  or  supposed 
injuries.  1.  James  had  frequently 
claimed,  but  claimed  in  vain,  from 
the  equity  of  Henry  the  valuable 
jewels,  which  the  late  king  had  be- 
queathed as  a  legacy  to  his  daughter 
the  Scottish  queen.  2.  In  the  last 
reign  he  had  complained  of  the  mur- 
der of  Sir  Robert  Ker,  the  warden  of 
the  Scottish  marches,  and  had  pointed 
out  the  bastard  Heron  of  Ford  as 
the  assassin ;  and  yet  neither  Heron, 
nor  his  chief  accomplices,  had  been 
brought  to  trial.  3.  Lastly,  he  de- 
manded justice  for  the  death  of  An- 
drew Barton.  As  long  ago  as  1476  a 
ship  belonging  to  John  Barton  had 
been  plundered  by  a  Portuguese 
squadron  ;  and  in  1506,  just  thirty 
years  afterwards,  James  granted  to 
Andrew,  Eobert,  and  John,  the  three 
sons  of  Barton,  letters  of  reprisals, 
authorising  them  to  capture  the 
goods  of  Portuguese  merchants,  till 
they  should  have  indemnified  them- 
selves to  the  amount  of  twelve  thou- 
sand ducats.  But  the  adventurers 
found  their  new  profession  too  lucra- 
tive to  be  quickly  abandoned ;  they 
continued  to  make  seizures  for  several 
years ;  nor  did  they  confine  themselves 
to  vessels  sailing  under  the  Portuguese 
flag,  but  captured  English  merchant- 
men, on  the  pretence  that  they  carried 
Portuguese  property.  "Wearied  out  by 
the  clamour  of  the  sufferers,  Henry 
pronounced  the  Bartons  pirates,  and 
the  lord  Thomas  and  Sir  Edward 


Howard,  with  the  king's  permission, 
boarded  and  captured  two  of  their 
vessels  in  the  Downs.  In  the  action 
Andrew  Barton  received  a  wound, 
which  proved  fatal;  the  survivors 
were  sent  by  land  into  Scotland. 
James  considered  the  loss  of  Barton, 
the  bravest  and  most  experienced  of 
his  naval  commanders,  as  a  national 
calamity;  he  declared  it  a  breach  of 
the  peace  between  the  two  crowns; 
and  in  the  most  peremptory  tone 
demanded  full  and  immediate  satis- 
faction. Henry  scornfully  replied, 
that  the  fate  of  a  pirate  was  unworthy 
the  notice  of  kings,  and  that  the  dis- 
pute, if  the  matter  admitted  of  dispute, 
might  be  settled  by  the  commissioners 
of  both  nations  at  their  next  meeting 
on  the  borders.1 

While  James  was  brooding  over 
these  causes  of  discontent,  Henry 
had  joined  in  the  league  against 
Louis;  and  from  that  moment  the 
Scottish  court  became  the  scene  of 
the  most  active  negotiations,  the 
French  ambassadors  claiming  the 
aid  of  Scotland,  the  English  insist- 
ing on  its  neutrality.  The  former 
appealed  to  the  poverty  and  the 
chivalry  of  the  king.  Louis  mado 
him  repeated  and  valuable  presents 
of  money ;  Anne,  the  French  queen, 
named  him  her  knight,  and  sent  him 
a  ring  from  her  own  finger.  He  cheer- 
fully renewed  the  ancient  alliance  be- 
tween Scotland  and  France,  with  an 
additional  clause  reciprocally  binding 
each  prince  to  aid  his  ally  against  all 
men  whomsoever.  Henry  could  not 
be  ignorant  that  this  provision  was 
aimed  against  himself;  but  he  had  no 
reason  to  complain ;  for  in  the  last 
treaty  of  peace,  the  kings  of  England 
and  Scotland  had  reserved  to  them- 
selves the  power  of  sending  military 
aid  to  any  of  their  friends,  provided 


1  It  is  extraordinary  that  after  this,  in 
1540,  another  demand  for  compensation  to 
the  Bartons  was  made  on  the  king  of  For- 
tugal  (Lesley,  336.  Borne,  1578),  and  that 


the  letters  of  reprisal  were  suffered  to  remain 
in  force  till  1563,  that  is,  eighty-seven  years 
after  the  commission  of  the  offence.  See 
Mr.  Pinkerton,  ii.  61,  note. 


JJX  1512.] 


1-HE  SCOTS  IN  ENGLAND. 


179 


that  aid  were  confiued  to  defensive 
operations. 

It  now  became  the  object  of  the 
English  envoys  to  bind  James  to  the 
observance  of  peace  during  the  ab- 
sence of  Henry.  Much  diplomatic 
finesse  was  displayed  by  each  party. 
To  every  project  presented  by  the 
English  the  Scottish  cabinet  assented, 
but  with  this  perplexing  proviso,  that 
in  the  interval  no  incursion  should 
be  made  beyond  the  French  frontier. 
Each  negociated  and  armed  at  the 
same  time.  It  had  been  agreed  that, 
to  redress  all  grievance,  an  extraordi- 
nary meeting  of  commissioners  should 
be  held  on  the  borders  during  the 
month  of  June.  Though  in  this 
arrangement  both  parties  acted  with 
equal  insincerity,  the  English  gave 
the  advantage  to  their  opponents,  by 
demanding  an  adjournment  to  the 
middle  of  October.  Their  object 
could  not  be  concealed.  Henry  was 
already  in  France ;  and  James,  having 
summoned  his  subjects  to  meet  him 
on  Burrow  Moor,  despatched  his  fleet 
with  a  body  of  three  thousand  men  to 
the  assistance  of  Louis.  At  the  same 
time  a  Scottish  herald  sailed  to  France, 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  James  to 
Henry,  complaining  of  the  murder  of 
Barton,  of  the  detention  of  Scottish 
ships  and  artillery,  of  the  protection 
given  to  the  bastard  Heron,  and  of 
the  refusal  to  pay  the  legacy  left  by 
Henry  VII.  to  his  daughter  the  Scot- 
tish queen ;  requiring  the  retreat  of 
the  English  army  out  of  France,  and 
stating  that  he  had  granted  letters  of 
marque  to  his  subjects,  and  would 
take  part  with  Louis  his  friend  and 
ally.  The  herald  found  Henry  in 
his  camp  before  Terouenne,  and  re- 
ceived from  him  an  answer  equally 
scornful  and  passionate.  But  James 
had  already  begun  hostilities ;  he  did 
not  live  to  receive  the  report  of  his 
messenger.1 

1  The  particulars  of  these  n^i.'tiationa 
bave  been  collected  by  the  industry  uf  Mr. 


The  first  signal  of  war  was  given  by 
the  lord  Home,  chamberlain  to  the 
king  of  Scotland,  who  on  the  same 
day  on  which  the  herald  left  Te- 
rouenne with  the  reply  of  Henry, 
crossed  the  English  borders,  and 
plundered  the  defenceless  inhabi- 
tants. He  was  intercepted  in  his 
return  by  Sir  William  Bulmer,  and 
lost,  together  with  the  booty,  five 
hundred  of  his  men  slain  on  the 
spot,  and  four  hundred  made  pri- 
soners. For  this  check  James  con- 
soled himself  with  the  hope  of  speedy 
revenge;  and  left  Burrow  Moor  at  the 
head,  it  is  said,  of  one  hundred  thou- 
sand men.  The  numbers  who  crowded 
to  his  standard  prove  that  little  credit 
is  due  to  those  Scottish  writers  who 
represent  the  enterprise  as  disap- 
proved by  the  nation,  and  have  in- 
vented the  most  marvellous  tales,  to 
make  the  king  alone  responsible  for 
the  calamity  which  followed.  If  we 
may  believe  them,  James  determined 
to  make  war  in  despite  of  the  advice 
of  both  earthly  and  unearthly  coun- 
sellors. His  obstinacy  could  not  bft 
subdued  by  the  tears  or  entreaties  of 
his  queen,  nor  by  the  remonstrances 
of  the  most  able  among  his  nobility 
and  ministers,  nor  by  the  admonition 
of  the  patron  saint  of  Scotland,  who 
in  the  guise  of  an  old  man,  announced 
to  him  in  the  church  of  Linlithgow 
the  fate  of  the  expedition,  nor  by  the 
warnings  of  a  preternatural  voice 
which  was  heard  in  the  dead  of 
the  'night  from  the  cross  of  Edin- 
burgh, summoning  the  principal  lords 
to  appear  before  an  infernal  tribunal. 
Followed  by  one  of  the  most  nume- 
rous armies  that  had  ever  been  raised 
in  Scotland,  he  passed  the  Tweed  at 
its  confluence  with  the  Till,  and  turn- 
ing to  the  north,  laid  siege  to  the 
strong  castle  of  Norham.  The  go- 
vernor deceived  the  expectations  both 
of  his  friends  and  foes.  By  the  im- 

69—91.      See  Calig.  b.  \i. 


liiixertou,    'U  o»- 
f.50j  Holinj.  135. 


K2 


180 


HENRY  VIII. 


'CHAP.  vi. 


provident  expenditure  of  his  ammu- 
nition he  was  unable  to  protract  the 
defence,  and  having  repulsed  three 
assaults,  on  the  sixth  day  surrendered 
his  trust.  Wark,  Etall,  and  Ford, 
border  fortresses  of  inferior  account, 
followed  the  example  of  Norham. 

When  James  crossed  the  Tweed, 
the  earl  of  Surrey  lay  in  the  castle  of 
Pontefract.  Having  summoned  the 
gentlemen  of  the  northern  counties 
to  join  the  royal  standard  at  New- 
castle, he  hastened  forward  to  Aln- 
.vick ;  from  which  town  he  despatched 
on  Sunday  Rouge  Croix,  the  pursui- 
vant-at-arms,  to  the  king  of  Scotland, 
with  two  messages.  The  one  from 
himself  offered  battle  to  the  enemy 
on  the  following  Friday ;  the  other 
from  his  son,  the  lord  Thomas 
Howard,  stated  that,  since  James  at 
the  border  sessions  had  repeatedly 
charged  him  with  the .  murder  of 
Barton,  he  was  come  to  justify  the 
death  of  that  pirate,  and  that,  as  he 
did  not  expect  to  receive,  so  neither 
did  he  mean  to  give,  quarter.  To 
Sfurrey  the  king  courteously  replied, 
that  he  accepted  the  challenge  with 
pleasure ;  to  the  son  he  did  not  con- 
descend to  return  an  answer. 

Having  demolished  the  castle  of 
Ford,'  James  led  his  army  across  the 
river,  and  encamped  on  the  hill  of 
Flodden,  the  last  of  the  Cheviot 
mountains,  which  border  on  the  vale 
of  Tweed.  The  same  day  the  earl 
Blustered  his  forces  at  Bolton  in 


Glendale.  They  amounted  to  twenty- 
six  thousand  men,  chiefly  the  tenants 
of  the  gentlemen  in  the  northern 
counties,  and  the  men  of  the  borders, 
accustomed  to  Scottish  warfare. 
From  Bolton  he  advanced  to  TVooler 
haugh,  within  five  miles  %f  the  enemy ; 
whence  he  viewed  with  surprise  the 
strength  of  their  position,  accessible 
only  in  one  quarter,  and  that  forti- 
fied with  batteries  of  cannon.  Rouge 
Croix  was  again  despatched  to  James, 
with  a  message,  requiring  him  to 
descend  into  the  large  plain  of  Mil- 
field  between  the  two  armies,  and  to 
engage  his  adversary  on  equal  terms. 
The  king  laconically  replied,  that  he 
should  wait  for  the  English  accord- 
ing to  their  promise  till  Friday  at 
noon.2 

Surrey  was  disconcerted  by  this 
answer.  To  decline  the  battle  was 
to  break  his  word ;  to  fight  the  Scots 
in  their  present  position  was  to  in- 
vite defeat.  He  was  rescued  from  the 
dilemma  by  the  bold  counsel  of  his 
son,  who  advised  him  to  march 
towards  Scotland,  and  then  return, 
and  assail  the  enemy  on  the  rear. 
The  next  morning,  the  army  formed 
in  two  grand  divisions,  each  of  which 
was  subdivided  into  a  battle  and  two 
wings.  The  first,  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  the  vanguard,  obeyed  the 
lord  admiral ;  the  second,  called  the 
rearguard,  was  led  by  the  earl  him- 
self. In  this  manner  the  English 
crossed  the  Till,  arid,  keeping  out  of 


1  It  is  probable  that  James  demolished 
Ford  to  revenge  the  death  of  his  favourite, 
Sir  Eobert  Ker ;  not  that  William  Heron, 
the  owner  of  the  castle,  had  been  the  assas- 
sin ;  for  he  was  at  that  moment  a  prisoner 
in  Scotland  (Hall,  xxxix)  ;  but  that  the 
murder  had  been  committed  by  his  bastard 
brother,  John  Heron,  who,  though  pro- 
nounced an  outlaw  by  Henry,  was  permitted 
to  go  at  large,  and  actually  fought,  and  was 
wounded  in  the  battle  which  followed  (Hall, 
xlii.  Giovio,  103).  Elizabeth,  the  wifo  of 
William  Heron,  in  the  absence  of  her  hus- 
band, petitioned  the  king  to  spare  the  castle, 
and  had  obtained,  on  that  condition,  from 
Surrey  the  liberty  of  the  \ord  Johnstone, 
and  of  Alexander  Il-Mne.~8eo  the  earl's 


message,  Hall,  xxxix.  But  James  refused 
the  exchange,  and  rejected  the  petition  of 
the  lady.  I  suspect  that  this  is  the  only 
foundation  of  the  tale  which  is  sometimes 
told,  that  James  was  captivated  by  the 
charms  of  the  la  Jy  of  Ford,  who  revealed  his 
secrets  to  Surrey,  and  that  he  spent  in  dal- 
liance with  her  that  time  which  ought  to 
have  been  employed  in  penetrating  iuto 
England.  But  it  should  be  recollected  that 
the  whole  time  allotted  for  the  capture  of 
Ford,  Etall,  and  Wark,  is  comprised  within 
a  short  space,  between  the  29th  of  August, 
when  .Norham  surrendered,  and  the  3rd  of 
Ek^teirber,  when  Surrey  reached  Alnwick. 
The  king  therefore  appears  to  have  lost  but 
litlie  of  his  time.  2  Ellis,  i.  &«.' 


4D.  !5! 


UATTLE  OP  FLODJDEN 


181 


Ili3  reach  of  the  cannon,  advanced 
along  the  right  bank  till  the  evening. 
At  sunrise  the  following  day,  they 
again  crossed  the  river  by  the  bridge 
of  Twisel,  and,  returning  by  the  left 
bank,  approached  the  Scottish  camp. 
James  now  discovered  the  object  of 
this  movement,  which  at  first  had 
appeared  unaccountable.  He  ordered 
his  men  to  set  fire  to  their  huts,  and 
hastened  to  take  possession  of  an  emi- 
nence more  to  the  north,  called  the 
hill  of  Brankston.  The  smoke,  which 
rose  from  the  flames,  was  rolled  by  the 
wind  into  the  valley,  and  entirely  in- 
tercepted the  view  of  the  two  armies, 
and  their  respective  movements,  so 
that  when  it  cleared  up,  the  admiral 
found  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
and  beheld  the  enemy  on  its  summit, 
at  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
disposed  in  five  large  masses,  some  of 
which  had  taken  the  form  of  squares, 
and  others  that  of  wedges.  Alarmed 
at  their  appearance  and  numbers,  he 
halted  his  division ;  it  was  soon  joined 
on  its  left  by  the  rearguard,  under  his 
father,  and  both  advanced  in  one  line. 
At  the  same  time,  the  Scots  began  to 
descend  the  hill,  in  perfect  order  and 
profound  silence.1 

As  the  battle,  from  the  disposition 
of  the  Scottish  forces,  consisted  of 
several  distinct  actions,  it  will  be 
most  convenient  for  the  reader  to 
travel  along  the  English  line,  and 
notice  the  result  of  each  conflict  in 
succession.  The  right  wing  of  the 
vanguard,  under  Sir  Edmund  How- 
ard, could  not  support  the  overwhelm- 
ing charge  of  a  large  body  of  spear- 
men, commanded  by  the  lord  Home. 
The  English  were  broken,  and  their 
commander  was  unhorsed ;  but  while 
he  lay  on  the  ground  expecting  to  be 
taken  or  slain,  the  battle  was  unex- 
pectedly restored  by  the  timely  arrival 
of  the  bastard  Heron,  with  a  numerous 


band  of  outlaws.  Tho  fugitives  ral- 
lied at  his  call;  and  a  doubtful  con- 
test was  fiercely  maintained,  till  the 
lord  Dacre,  with  the  reserve  of  fifteen 
hundred  horse,  charged  the  spearmen, 
and  put  them  to  a  precipitate  flight. 
The  next  was  the  lord  admiral,  with 
the  major  part  of  the  vanguard,  op- 
posed to  the  earls  of  Huntley,  Errol, 
and  Crawford,  who  commanded  a 
dense  mass  of  seven  thousand  Scots. 
In  this  part  of  the  field  the  contest 
was  obstinate  and  bloody.  At  length 
Errol  and  Crawford  perished,  and 
their  followers,  discouraged  by  the 
death  of  their  leaders,  began  to  waver, 
fell  into  confusion,  and  shortly  after- 
wards fled  in  every  direction.  Surrey 
with  the  rearguard  was  attacked  by 
the  king  himself.  James  fought  on 
foot,  surrounded  by  some  thousands 
of  chosen  warriors,  who  were  cased  in 
armour,  and  on  that  account  less  ex- 
posed to  the  destructive  aim  of  the 
English  archers.  Animated  by  the 
presence  and  the  example  of  their 
monarch,  they  advanced  steadily,  and 
fought  with  a  resolution  which,  if  it 
did  not  win,  at  least  deserved,  the 
victory.  Though  Surrey  made  every 
effort,  he  could  not  arrest  their  pro- 
gress ;  they  had  penetrated  within  a 
few  yards  of  the  royal  standard ;  and 
James,  ignorant  of  the  result  in  other 
parts  of  the  field,  flattered  himself 
with  the  prospect  of  victory.  But  in 
the  mean  while  Sir  Edward  Stanley, 
who  commanded  the  left  wing,  had 
defeated  the  earls  of  Argyle  and  Len- 
nox. The  ranks  of  the  Scots,  as  they 
descended  the  hill,  were  disordered 
by  the  murderous  discharges  of  the 
archers ;  the  moment  they  came  into 
close  combat,  the  confusion  was  com- 
pleted by  a  sudden  charge  in  flank 
from  three  companies  of  inen-at-arms. 
They  began  to  retreat;  Stanley 
chased  them  over  the  summit  of  the 


1  En  bon  ordre,  en  la  maniere  one  march- 
cm  lea  AUemands,  sans  parlor  ne  faire  aucun 


bruit.— Official  account  apud  Fink,  ii.  App, 
456. 


182 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VI. 


hill;  and,  wheeling  to  the  right,  led 
his  followers  against  the  rear  of  the 
mass  commanded  by  James  in  person. 
In  a  few  minutes  that  gallant  monarch 
was  slain  by  an  unknown  hand,  and 
fell  about  a  spear's  length  from  the 
feet  of  Surrey.  The  battle  had  begun 
between  four  and  five  in  the  after- 
noon, and  was  decided  in  something 
more  than  an  hour.  The  pursuit 
continued  about  four  miles ;  but  the 
approach  of  night,  and  the  want  of 
cavalry  on  the  part  of  the  victors, 
favoured  the  escape  of  the  fugitives. 
In  the  official  account  published  by 
the  lord  admiral,  the  Scots  are  said 
to  have  amounted  to  eighty  thousand 
men,  a  multitude  from  which  we  may 
fairly  deduct  perhaps  one  half,  as 
mere  followers  of  the  camp,  collected 
more  for  the  purpose  of  plunder  than 
battle.  Ten  thousand  were  slain, 
among  whom  were  the  king  of  Scots, 
his  illegitimate  son,  the  archbishop  of 
St.  Andrew's,  two  other  bishops,  two 
abbots,  twelve  earls,  thirteen  barons, 
five  eldest  sons  of  barons,  and  fifty 
gentlemen  of  distinction.1  Six  thou- 
sand horses  were  taken,  with  the  park 
of  artillery,  amounting  to  seventeen 
pieces.2  Lord  Dacre  recognised  among 
the  slain  the  body  of  the  Scottish 
king,  and  conveyed  it  to  Berwick 
•whence  it  was  afterwards  carried  to 
London,  that  it  might  be  interred  with 
suitable  honours.3 

When  the  news  of  this  important 
victory  reached  the  king  of  England 


re  was  no  longer  at  Terouenne. 
Having  demolished  that  city  at  the 
•equest  of  the  emperor,  by  the  advice 
>f  the  same  prince  he  now  invested 
Tournay.  Tournay  contained  a  popu- 
ation  of  eighty  thousand  souls,  and 
/hough  situate  within  the  territory 
of  another  power,  had  long  been  dis- 
inguished  by  its  attachment  to  the 
French  crown.  To  the  summons 
sent  by  Henry,  the  inhabitants  re- 
turned a  bold  and  chivalrous  defiance; 
3ut  their  resolution  evaporated  amid 
the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  a  siege, 
and  on  the  eighth  day  they  submitted 
to  receive  an  English  garrison,  to 
swear  fealty  to  the  king,  and  to  pay 
towards  the  expenses  of  the  war  fifty 
thousand  livres  tournois  in  one  sum, 
and  forty  thousand  more  by  instal- 
ments, in  the  course  of  ten  years.4 
The  campaign  ended  with  the  fall  of 
Tournay;  and  Henry  had  the  grati- 
fication to  receive  there  an  illustrious 
visitor,  Charles,  the  young  prince  of 
Spain,  conducted  by  his  aunt  Mar- 
garet, duchess  dowager  of  Savoy,  and 
regent  of  the  Netherlands.  Charles, 
it  will  be  remembered,  had  been  con- 
tracted during  the  last  reign  to  the 
princess  Mary,  the  king's  sister.  Both 
the  parties  were  then  children, 
Charles  being  only  seven,  Mary  only 
nine  years  old;  so  that  either,  on 
coming  to  the  age  of  puberty,  could 
legally  annul  the  contract.  Hence, 
to  secure  its  subsequent  execution, 
oaths  had  been  reciprocally  sworn  by 


1  We  have  four  contemporary  and  de- 
tailed accounts  of  this  battle.  One  by  Hall 
xlii.,  another  equally  minute,  but  much  more 
elegant  in  the  Italian  historian  Qiovio,  1.  xxi 
f.  102 ;  a  third  by  the  lord  Thomas  Howard 
which  is  preserved  in  the  herald's  office 
and  has  been  published  by  Mr.  Pinkerton 
ii.  App.  456 ;  and  a  fourth  printed  by  Mr 
Gait,  in  the  appendix  to  his  life  of  Wolsey 
p.  1.  See  also  a  letter  from  the  queen  on 
this  victory,  in  Hearne's  Tit.  Liv.  p.  106. 

8  Lesquelles,  says  the  lord  admiral,  son 
lea  plus  cleres,  et  lea  plus  nectes,  et  le 
mieux  faconne'es,  et  aveo  les  moyndres  per 
tuis  a  la  touche,  et  les  plus  belles  de  leu 
grandeur  et  longuer,  quo  j'ai  viz  oncqne. — 


8  The  common  people  would  not  believe 
that  their  king  had  been  slain  by  the  Eng- 
lish. When,  however,  he  did  not  appear, 
some  said  that  he  had  been  murdered  by 
traitors,  others  that  he  was  gone  a  pilgrim, 
to  Jerusalem.  Henry,  on  the  contrary,  to 
blazon  his  death,  obtained  from  Pope  Leo 
permission  to  bury  the  body  in  consecrated 
ground,  because  he  died  under  the  sentence 
of  excommunication,  to  which  he  had  sub- 
jected himself  if  he  broke  the  treaty  (Rym. 
xiii.  385).  Stowe  (495)  tells  us,  that  he  saw 
it  wrapped  in  lead,  and  lying  in  a  lumber- 
room  at  Shene,  after  the  dissolution  of  that 
monastery. 

*  Herbert,  40,  41.  Rym.  xiii.  337.  Da 
Bellay,  8; 


A.D.  1513.J 


BRANDON'S  ELEVATION. 


183 


Maximilian,  the  grandfather  and 
guardian  of  Charles,  and  by  Henry 
the  father  of  Mary;  and  bonds,  in 
addition  to  a  great  amount,  had  been 
exchanged  between  the  two  monarchs, 
the  chief  of  the  nobility,  and  the  most 
wealthy  of  the  towns  in  their  respec- 
tive dominions,  that  nothing  should 
be  done  by  either  party  to  prevent 
the  legal  solemnization  of  the  mar- 
riage within  forty  days  after  Charles 
had  completed  his  fourteenth  year. 
Now,  as  that  term  was  swiftly  ap- 
proaching, it  was  agreed,  in  a  new 
treaty  subscribed  by  the  king  at 
Lisle  and  ratified  by  the  emperor  at 
Tubingen,  that  in  the  following  spring 
Maximilian,  Margaret,  and  Charles, 
should  meet  Henry,  Catherine,  and 
Mary  at  Calais,  within  sufficient  time 
to  allow  of  the  celebration  of  the  mar- 
riage in  due  form  previously  to  the 
fifteenth  of  May.1 

Henry  had  taken  with  him  to 
Tournay  Sir  Charles  Brandon,  son  of 
Sir  Robert  Brandon,  who  had  been 
standard-bearer  to  the  late  king,  and 
had  fallen  by  his  side  in  the  battle 
of  Bosworth.  The  memory  of  the 
father's  services  had  procured  for  the 
son  the  place  of  esquire  of  the  body  to 
the  present  monarch ;  and  the  young 
man,  by  the  elegance  of  his  person 
and  manners,  the  gentleness  of  his 
disposition,  and  his  adroitness  in 
every  knightly  and  courtly  exercise, 
had  won  not  only  the  esteem,  but  the 
affection  of  his  sovereign.  Henry 
seized  every  opportunity  of  exalting 
his  favourite.  Just  before  his  arrival 
at  Calais  he  had  betrothed  Brandon 
to  the  infant  daughter  and  heiress  of 
the  late  lord  Lisle,  and  on  that  pre- 


text had  created  him  Lord  Viscount 
Lisle.  But  at  Tournay  this  lady  was 
not  thought  equal  to  his  deserts.  The 
archduchess  Margaret  offered  a  more 
desirable  match.  She  was  a  widow, 
with  two  princely  jointures,  having 
already  been  married  to  John,  prince 
of  Spain,  and  after  his  death,  to  Phi- 
libert,  duke  of  Savoy.  It  was  not, 
indeed,  likely  that  the  daughter  of 
the  emperor  and  regent  of  the  Nether- 
lands, with  all  the  pride  of  birth  and 
rank  about  her,  would  condescend  to 
accept  an  Englishman  of  plebeian 
descent  for  her  husband.  Yet,  whe- 
ther the  project  sprang  originally 
from  the  ambition  of  the  favourite,  or 
the  partiality  of  his  patron,  it  was 
resolved  that  the  attempt  should  be 
made.  Henry  undertook  to  woo  for 
his  friend,  and  wooed  with  his  cha- 
racteristic vehemence  and  pertinacity. 
Margaret  refused;  she  even  hinted 
that  such  a  marriage  would  disgrace 
her  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  country. 
But  the  king  persevered,  and  when 
he  waited  on  her  at  Lisle,2  extorted 
from  her  some  kind  expression  or 
promise,  which  served  to  keep  alive 
the  hopes  of  her  English  suitor. 
Hitherto  the  courtship  had  been  con- 
ducted in  the  most  covert  manner; 
but  on  the  king's  return  to  England, 
the  secret  transpired,  and  was  soon 
communicated  to  the  several  courts 
on  the  continent.  The  report  soon 
reached  the  archduchess,  who  com- 
plained bitterly,  that  Henry  or  his 
favourite  had  betrayed  her  confidence ; 
and  had  rendered  her,  so  she  declared, 
an  object  of  ridicule  throughout 
Europe.3 
Prom  Flanders  Henry  returned  to 


1  Rym.  xii.  236.    Chron.  Catal.  94—101, 
114. 

2  Hymer,  xiii.  380.    Chron.  Catalogue,  114. 
8  At  Lisle  the  king  made  her  promise  'in 

his  hand,'  that  she  would  not  marry  any  one 
before  his  return,  or  within  one  year.  She 
made  the  promise,  for  she  said  that  she  was 
resolved  never  to  marry  again.  He  then 
made  Brandon  make  the  same  promise  to 
her,  though  she  did  not  ask  him,  "  and  that 


for  allwayes  he  schullde  be  to  me  trewe  and 
humble  servant.  And  I  to  him  promised  to 
be  syche  mastresse  alle  my  lyfe,  as  to  him 
who  meseemed  desyred  to  do  me  most  ser- 
vice." Brandon  kneeling  and  playing  before* 
her,  drew  a  ring  from  her  finger.  She  in- 
sisted that  it  should  be  restored;  Henry 
forbade  him  to  give  it  op,  and  sent  her 
another  of  greater  value.  It  was  not  its 
value  that  she  regarded,  but  it  was  her  offi- 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VL 


England,  proud  of  his  victory  and 
conquest.  In  the  recent  treaty  with 
the  emperor,  it  had  been  agreed  that, 
in  consideration  of  a  subsidy  of  two 
hundred  thousand  crowns,  that  prince 
should  watch  the  French  frontier  with 
an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  till  the 
opening  of  the  next  campaign,  which 
was  fixed  for  the  first  day  of  June.1 
Henry  spent  the  winter  in  prepara- 
tions for  the  new  conquest  which  he 
contemplated.  Troops  were  levied 
and  trained  to  military  discipline ; 
an  aid  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  pounds  was  voted  by  par- 
liament, and  titles  and  honours  were 
bestowed  on  the  commanders  who  had 
distinguished  themselves  in  the  late 
campaign ;  the  earl  of  Surrey  who  was 
created  duke  of  Norfolk,  his  son  the 
lord  Thomas  who  succeeded  to  the 
title  before  held  by  his  father,  the 
lord  Herbert,  made  earl  of  Somerset, 
and  Sir  Edward  Stanley,  now  Lord 
Monteagle.  At  the  same  time  the 
favourite,  Sir  Charles  Brandon,  was 
created  duke  of  Suffolk,  probably 
with  a  view  to  his  projected  marriage 
with  the  archduchess  Margaret.  But 
Louis,  humbled  by  a  long  series  of 
disasters,  preferred  negotiation  to 
war.  He  appealed  to  the  indivi- 
dual interests  of  the  confederates, 
infused  into  them  suspicions  of  each 
other's  sincerity,  and  successively  de- 
tached them,  one  by  one,  from  the 
league.  1.  In  Leo  X.  he  found  a 
pontiff  of  corresponding  disposition ; 
and  the  moment  he  consented  to 
abandon  the  Bentivogli  and  his  other 
partisans  in  Italy,  and  dispersed  the 
schismatical  council,  which  had  been 
transferred  from  Pisa  to  Lyons,  the 
pope,  by  circular  letters,  exhorted  the 
confederates  to  sheathe  the  sword, 


and  revoked  all  the  censures  which 
had  been  published  against  the  king 
or  the  kingdom  of  France.  2.  In  the 
estimation  of  Ferdinand  the  perma- 
nent possession  of  Navarre  was  para- 
mount to  every  other  object ;  and, 
though  he  refused  to  make  peace 
without  the  concurrence  of  the  king 
of  England,  he  cheerfully  consented 
to  a  prolongation  of  the  armistice  for 
twelve  months.'-*  Henry  viewed  the 
defection  of  the  pope  and  of  Ferdinand 
with  pain,  but  without  surprise.  Of 
the  fidelity  of  Maximilian  after  the 
late  treaty  he  entertained  no  doubt. 
3.  Yet  the  virtue  of  Maximilian  could 
not  refuse  the  bait  which  French  po- 
licy held  out  to  his  ambition,  in  the 
proposal  of  a  marriage  between  his 
grandson  Charles  and  Benee,  the 
daughter  of  Louis,  with  a  transfer 
to  him  of  the  claim  of  the  French 
crown  to  the  duchy  of  Milan,  as  the 
portion  of  the  princess. 

The  moment  it  was  ascertained  by 
Louis  that  the  emperor  had  accepted 
this  offer,  the  intelligence  was  artfully 
communicated  to  the  king  of  England, 
through  the  duke  of  Longueville,  a 
prisoner  of  war.  Henry  at  first  af- 
fected to  doubt;  but  the  perfidy  of 
his  ally  was  proved  by  the  evasive 
answer  returned  by  the  council  of 
regency  in  Flanders,  when  the  king 
summoned  Maximilian  to  celebrate 
the  stipulated  marriage  between 
Charles  and  Mary.  From  that  mo- 
ment he  lent  a  more  willing  ear  to 
the  suggestions  of  Longueville;  and 
Louis,  encouraged  by  his  success, 
sought  not  only  the  restoration  of 
peace,  but  a  matrimonial  connection 
between  the  two  crowns.  The  death 
of  his  queen,  Anne  of  Bretagne,  had 
left  him  a  widower ;  his  late  treaty 


cial  ring,  and  universally  known.  Unable 
to  recover  it,  she  extorted  a  promise  that 
it  should  never  be  shown. — See  her  own 
narrative  published  by  Mr.  Qough  Nicholas 
in  the  Chronicle  of  Calais,  notes,  p.  73. 


1  Rym.  xii.  379. 

*  Peter  Martyr  says  that  he  began  to  grow 
jealous  of  the  power  of  Henry,  p.  294,  295. 
Le  Grand  adds,  that  Henry  in  consequence 
behaved  so  ill  to  Catherine,  that  she  mis- 
carried,  i.  39. 


A.D.  1514.] 


NEW  TREATIES  WITH  FRANCE. 


180 


with  Maximilian  had  deprived  Mary, 
the  king's  sister,  of  a  husband.  He, 
therefore,  offered  himself  as  a  suitor 
in  the  place  of  the  prince  of  Spain. 
There  was  indeed  some  difference  in 
the  age  of  the  parties :  for  Louis  was 
fifty-three,  Mary  only  sixteen  years 
old.  Henry  saw  at  once  the  benefit 
to  be  derived  from  this  offer,  though 
he  pretended  to  hesitate,  observing 
that  his  honour  was  at  stake,  and 
that  his  people  would  never  permit 
him  to  renounce  his  inheritance  in 
France  without  an  equivalent.1 

The  French  cabinet  understood  the 
hint,  and  cheerfully  signified  its  ac- 
quiescence. Three  treaties  were  con- 
cluded at  the  same  time.  The  first 
was  a  treaty  of  alliance  between  the 
two  kings,  to  continue  in  force  during 
the  terra  of  their  joint  lives,  and  one 
year  longer.  It  bound  each  to  furnish 
an  auxiliary  army  at  the  requisition 
of  the  other;  but  distinguished  be- 
tween offensive  and  defensive  war, 
limiting  the  aid  in  the  first  case  to 
five  thousand  men  by  land,  and  two 
thousand  five  hundred  by  sea;  and 
extending  it  in  the  other  to  double 
that  number.  The  second  treaty  pro- 
vided for  the  marriage  of  Louis  with 
the  princess  Mary.  Henry  agreed  to 
defray  the  expense  of  his  sister's  jour- 
ney, to  furnish  her  with  jewels,  and 
to  pay  with  her  a  dower  of  two  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns  ;  and  Louis 
engaged  to  secure  to  her  the  same 
jointure,  which  had  been  granted  to 
his  late  queen  the  heiress  of  Bretagne, 
with  a  promise  that,  if  she  survived 
him,  she  should  be  at  liberty  to  reside, 
at  her  own  option,  either  in  England 
or  France.  By  the  third,  the  same 


monarch,  in  consideration  of  arrears 
due  to  the  English  crown,  on  ac- 
count of  moneys  formerly  owing  to 
Henry  VII.  from  Charles  VIII., 
and  to  Margaret  duchess  of  Somer- 
set, from  Charles  duke  of  Orleans, 
bound  himself  and  his  successors  to 
pay  to  Henry  and  his  heirs  one  million 
of  crowns  by  thirty-eight  half-yearly 
instalments.2 

Mary  had  already,  by  a  public  in- 
strument, renounced  the  contract 
made  with  Charles  of  Spain  in  their 
nonage ;  she  was  now  solemnly 
married  to  Louis  at  Greenwich, 
where  the  duke  of  Longueville  per- 
sonated his  sovereign,  and  soon  after- 
wards at  Paris,  where  the  earl  of 
Worcester  appeared  as  her  proxy.3 
When  the  necessary  preparations 
were  completed,  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk conducted  her  to  Louis,  who 
received  her  at  Abbeville,  and  was 
now  married  to  her  in  person  in  the 
cathedral.  The  very  next  day  the 
young  bride  complained  of  the  harsh, 
unfeeling  conduct  of  her  husband. 
At  home,  her  household  establish- 
ment had  been  planned  on  the  most 
extensive  scale ;  and  the  multitude  of 
Englishmen  who  had  followed  her  to 
France,  excited  the  jealousy  and  mur- 
murs of  the  natives.  Louis  without 
ceremony  cut  down  the  number  to 
twelve  men,  and  six  women  servants, 
under  the  superintendence  of  the  earl 
of  Worcester,4  and  gave  peremptory 
orders  that  all  the  others  should  re- 
turn to  England  with  the  diJte  and 
his  colleagues,  who  would  depart  two 
days  later.  Mary  resented  their  dis- 
missal: and  felt  most  grievously  the 
loss  of  "her  mother  Guilford,"  the 


1  Henry's  letter  to  Wolsey.  apud  Kym. 
xiii.  403. 

2  Eym.  xiii.  409.  »  Ibid.  432,  446. 
It  appears  from  their  names  that  most 

of  them  belonged  to  noble  families.  The 
six  ladies  were  "  Madamoyselle  Grey,  seur 
de  Marquis,  Madamoysello  Marie  Finis,  fille 
de  Monst-.  Dacres,  Madamoyaelle  Elizabet, 
•ear  de  Monsr.  Grey,  Madamoysello  Bo- 


leyne,  Maistress  Anne  Jenyngham,  ferame 
de  chambre,  Jehanne  Barnesse,  chambrieri : 
signed  Loys."— MS.  Cot.  Vitell.  1.  xi.  f.  156. 
The  reader  will  observe  among  them  the 
name  of  Anne  Boleyn,  selected  probably 
out  of  compliment  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk 
her  uncle,  and  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  her 
father,  both  commissioners  having  charge  of 
the  princeaa. 


186 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VL 


lady  under  whom  she  had  been 
educated.  Henry  refused  to  inter- 
fere in  her  favour,  and  when  the 
earl  of  Worcester,  at  the  request  of 
the  disconsolate  queen,  ventured  to 
remonstrate,  Louis  replied  that  his 
wife  was  of  sufficient  age  to  take  care 
of  herself,  and  that  if  she  stood  in 
need  of  advice,  he  was  as  able  to 
administer  it  as  her  governess.  Mary, 
however,  soon  wiped  away  her  tears, 
and  became  insensibly  reconciled  to 
her  new  circumstances.1  The  king 
conducted  her  to  St  Denis,  where 
she  was  crowned,  and  thence  to  Paris, 
where  she  was  received  with  proces- 
sions and  rejoicings.  To  gratify  her 
taste  for  gaiety,  he  exchanged  the 
quiet  and  abstemious  life  to  which 
he  had  been  accustomed,  for  late 
hours  and  parties  of  pleasure,  to  the 
injury  of  his  health,  which  had  for- 
merly been  impaired  by  hardships 
and  indulgence ;  and  within  three 
months  from  the  time  of  his  mar- 
riage, he  sunk,  after  a  short  illness, 
into  the  grave.2  In  a  few  days  the 
duke  of  Suffolk  arrived  from  England 
to  condole,  in  the  name  of  Henry, 
with  the  young  widow,  and  to  make 
arrangements  for  the  payment  of  her 
dower  with  the  new  king,  Francis  I. 

But  Suffolk's  attention  was  soon 
called  to  a  very  different  subject. 
Political  events  had  extinguished  his 
hopes  of  a  union  with  the  archduchess 
Margaret,  but  if  he  had  been  a  fitting 
match  for  the  daughter  of  an  em- 
peror, why  should  he  not  be  equally 


so  for  the  daughter  of  a  king  ?  A 
marriage  between  him  and  the  young 
widow  was  proposed— by  whom  we 
know  not — by  her  it  was  accepted 
with  pleasure ;  by  Francis,  whom  the 
lovers  had  admitted  into  their  con- 
fidence, it  was  warmly  encouraged: 
for  to  him  it  was  of  the  first  im- 
portance, that  she  should  not  be 
contracted  again  to  the  prince  of 
Spain.3  He  advised  an  immediate 
and  clandestine  marriage.  He  would 
take  the  blame  upon  himself,  and  save 
them  harmless  from  the  displeasure 
of  Henry.  It  was,  however,  thought 
more  decent  to  ask  the  king's  consent. 
Suffolk  wrote  to  Wolsey  soliciting  his 
intercession  in  their  favour,  and  Mary 
informed  her  brother  in  plain  terms, 
that  she  had  married  once  to  please 
him,  and  would  either  marry  now  to 
please  herself,  or  take  the  religious 
vows  in  a  convent.  With  the  king's 
answer  we  are  not  acquainted;  but 
she  fixed  a  short  term,  within  which 
Suffolk  was  assured  that  he  must 
either  take  her  or  abandon  her  for 
ever;  on  the  last  day  he  consented, 
and  privately  celebrated  the  marriage; 
and  the  event  was  communicated  to 
Henry  by  Francis,  who  pleaded  warmly 
in  favour  of  the  lovers ;  and  by  Mary, 
who,  to  exonerate  her  husband,  took 
the  whole  blame  upon  herself.  To 
obtain  their  pardon  was  not  in  reality 
a  difficult  task.  It  is  certain  that 
Wolsey,  and  therefore  probable  that 
Henry,  was  in  the  secret  from  the 
beginning  ;*  but  it  had  been  deemed 


1  See  the  letters  in  Ellis,  i.  116,  and  2  Ser. 
i.  244-7.    As  a  recompense  to  the  lady  Guil- 
ford,  Henry  granted  her  an  annuity  of  20J . 
for  life.— Eym.  xiii.  470. 

2  Le  l>on  roi,  a  cause  de  sa  femme,  avoit 
change*  de  tout  sa  maniere  de  vivre ;  car  on 
il  soulpit  diner  a  huit  heures,  il  convenoit 
qu'il  dinat  a  midi ;  et  ou  il  souloit  se  coucher 
a  sir  heures  du  soir,  souvent  se  couchoit  a 
minuit.— Hist,  de  Bayard  apud  Henault,  423. 

3  Peter  Martyr  gives  this  reason.    Ke  si 
ad   potentiorem    aliquaudo    principem   de- 
Teniret,  formidolosum  aliquid  pariat,  p.  301. 
It  was  known  in  Rome  by  the  middle  of 
February,  that  both  Maximilian  and  Fer 


dinand  had  determined  to  make  every  sacri- 
fice to  procure  her  for  the  archduke.  Cesare, 
et  il  Catolico  faranno  ogni  eosa,  perche  sia 
moglie  dell'  archiduca  Cosi  viene  scritto  da 
i  nuntii  nostri  d'Alemagna  et  di  Spagna. — 
Lett,  de'  Principi.  i.  14.— See  also  Polydore, 
645. 

*  This  was  also  reported  in  Rome  on  good 
authority,  but  was  thought  incredible.  C'e 
di  Francia,  che  Inghilterra  ha  qualche  fan- 
tasia  di  dar  la  sua  vedova  sorella  al  dnca  di 
Suffolk,  e  che  clla  non  ne  e  aliena.  Tal  cosa 
non  si  crede  molto,  e  pur  1'aviso  vien  da 
loco  assai  autentico.— Lett,  de'  Principi, 
i,  14. 


A.D.  1508.  j 


WOLSEY'S  PREFERMENTS. 


187 


less  indecorous  in  the  king  to  forgive 
afterwards,  than  to  consent  before- 
hand. For  some  time  he  kept  the 
lovers  in  suspense ;  after  a  decent  in- 
terval, affecting  to  acquiesce  through 
necessity  in  that  which  he  could  not 
prevent,  he  sealed  their  pardon,  and 
ordered  them  to  be  publicly  married 
before  him  at  Greenwich.1  In  the 
meanwhile  Francis  had  renewed  all 
the  engagements  of  his  predecessor 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  English 
cabinet ;  and  both  kings  publicly 
boasted  that  they  had  concluded  a 
peace  and  alliance  which  would  en- 
dure for  ever ;  as  if,  amid  the  clashing 
interests  of  states,  and  the  vicissitude 
of  unforeseen  events,  it  were  possible 
to  insure  duration  to  the  amities  of 
neighbouring  and  powerful  sovereigns. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  pages,  the  reader 
will  learn  how  egregiously  they  de- 
luded themselves. 

When  Henry  ascended  the  throne, 
the  leading  ministers  in  the  cabinet 
were  Howard  earl  of  Surrey,  lord 
treasurer,  and  Fox  bishop  of  Win- 
chester, lord  privy  seal.  But  among 
the  inferior  dependants  of  the  court 
had  already  appeared  one,  whose 
aspiring  views  and  superior  talents 
rapidly  enabled  him  to  supplant  every 
competitor. 

Thomas  Wolsey,  a  native  of  Ips- 
wich,5 and  a  clergyman,  had,  by  the 
interest  of  Sir  John  Nan  fan,  been 
appointed  in  the  last  reign  one  of  the 
royal  chaplains.  After  the  death  of 
•  his  patron,  he  attached  himself  to  the 
service  of  the  bishop  of  Winchester, 
at  whose  recommendation  he  was 
intrusted  with  a  secret  and  delicate 
negotiation  at  the  imperial  court ; 
and  the  expedition  and  address  with 


which  he  executed  his  commission 
not  only  justified  the  discernment  of 
his  friend,  but  also  raised  the  agent  in 
the  estimation  of  his  sovereign.  Be- 
fore the  death  of  Henry  VII.  he  had 
been  collated  to  the  deanery  of  Lin- 
coln, one  of  the  most  wealthy  prefer- 
ments in  the  English  church ;  soon 
after  the  commencement  of  the  pre- 
sent reign,  we  find  him  exercising  the 
office  of  almoner  to  the  king,  and  thus 
possessing  every  facility  of  access  to 
the  presence  of  the  young  monarch. 
Henry  was  captivated  with  the  ele- 
gance of  his  manners,  and  the  gaiety 
of  his  disposition ;  he  frequently  re- 
sorted with  his  favourite  companions 
to  the  house  of  his  almoner;  and 
Wolsey  on  these  occasions,  if  we 
may  believe  the  sarcastic  pen  of  an 
adversary,3  threw  off  the  decencies 
of  his  station,  and  sang,  and  danced, 
and  caroused,  with  all  the  levity  and 
impetuosity  of  the  most  youthful 
among  his  guests.  It  was  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  most  sure  and 
expeditious  way  to  the  royal  favour 
was  through  the  recommendation  of 
the  almoner;  and  foreigners,  as  well 
as  natives,  eagerly  solicited,  and  fre- 
quently purchased  his  patronage. 
Still  he  behaved  with  becoming 
humility  to  his  former  protector, 
the  aged  bishop  of  Winchester,  and 
even  united  with  that  prelate  in 
condemning  the  prodigality  with 
which  the  lord  treasurer  supplied 
money  for  the  expensive  pleasures 
and  thoughtless  extravagance  of  the 
king.4 

During  the  war,  Wolsey  accom- 
panied Henry  to  France ;  was  charged 
with  the  care  of  the  department  for 
victualling  the  army,  and  after  the 


1  On  this  singular  subject,  see  extracts 
from  the  original  letters  in  Fiddes,  83—85, 
88  ;  Ellis,  119—125  ;  Gait,  App.  xii.— xiv. 

2  There  is  a  tradition  that  he  was  the  son 
of  a  butcher ;  but  it  is  hardly  reconcilable 
•with  the  will  of  his  father,  whose  bequests 
show  him  to  have  been  a  burgess  of  con- 
siderable opulence,  possessed  of  lands  and 


tenements  in  Ipswich,  and  free  and  bond 
lands  in  Stoke. — Singer's  Cavendish,  502. 
Fiddes,  Collect.  1. 

3  Polydore  Virgil  (663),  the  pope's  sub- 
collector  in  England,  who  by  the  order  of 
Wolsey  had  been  imprisoned  for  more  than 
six  months. — Eym.  xiii.  515,  516. 

*  See  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  7. 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  Tl. 


reduction  of  Tournay,  on  the  refusal 
of  the  bishop  elect  to  swear  fealty, 
received  from  the  king,  with  the  con- 
sent of  the  pope,  the  administration 
of  that  diocese.1  Preferments  now 
poured  in  upon  him.  He  was  made 
dean  of  York,  then  bishop  of  Lincoln ; 
and,  on  the  death  of  cardinal  Barn- 
bridge,  succeeded  that  prelate  in  the 
archiepiscopal  see  of  York.  His  pre- 
ponderating influence  in  the  council 
induced  foreign  princes  to  flatter  him 
with  compliments,  and  to  seek  his 
friendship  with  presents ;  and  during 
fifteen  years  he  governed  the  king- 
dom with  more  absolute  sway  than 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any  former 
minister.  We  are  not,  however, 
obliged  to  believe  the  tale  so  often 
repeated,  that  he  owed  his  elevation 
to  the  address  with  which  he  in- 
sinuated himself  into  the  royal 
favour,  by  promising  to  take  all  the 
labour  on  himself,  that  his  master 
might  have  more  leisure  to  indulge 
in  pleasure  and  dissipation.  The 
multitude  of  letters  still  extant,  all 
written  by  Henry  to  him,  or  by  him 
to  Henry,  demonstratively  show  that 
the  king  himself  devoted  a  consider- 
able portion  of  his  time  and  atten- 
tion to  the  cares  of  government.2 
But  "Wolsey  possessed  the  art  of 
guidiflg  his  sovereign  while  he  ap- 
peared to  be  guided  by  him,  and  if 
ever  he  urged  a  measure  of  policy 
contrary  to  the  royal  inclinations,  he 
had  the  prudence  to  desist  before  he 
had  given  offence,  and  entered  into 
the  opposite  views  of  the  king  with 
as  much  industry  and  zeal  as  if  the 
new  project  had  originated  from  him- 
self. 


It  seemed  necessary  to  introduce 
this  short  account  of  the  rise  and  cha- 
racter of  a  minister  who  was  destined 
to  bear  for  several  years  a  very  pro- 
minent part  in  the  most  important 
transactions  not  only  in  this,  but  in 
all  the  neighbouring  kingdoms ;  we 
may  now  revert  to  the  affairs  of  Scot- 
land, which,  after  the  death  of  its 
king  and  the  destruction  of  its  nobi- 
lity in  the  field  of  Flodden,  presented 
for  some  time  a  melancholy  scene  of 
confusion  and  terror.  Fortunately 
the  victorious  army  had  been  hastily 
collected ;  the  want  of  provisions  and 
of  military  supplies  compelled  Surrey 
to  disband  his  forces ;  and  though 
Henry,  by  repeated  messages  urged 
the  wardens  of  the  marches  to  pro- 
secute the  war,  their  efforts  were  con- 
fined to  short,  though  destructive 
incursions.  By  degrees  the  Scottish 
spirit  recovered  from  its  depression; 
the  call  for  revenge  was  echoed 
throughout  the  nation ;  several  chief- 
tains gathered  their  retainers;  and 
the  devastation  of  one  inroad  was 
repaid  by  the  devastation  of  another. 
The  queen  had  been  permitted,  in 
conformity  with  the  will  of  her 
husband,  to  assume  the  regency  as 
guardian  to  her  son  James  V.,  an 
infant  not  a  year  and  a  half  old  ;  but 
when  it  was  discovered  that  her  rela- 
tionship to  the  king  of  England  did 
not  restrain  the  hostility  of  that  mon- 
arch, the  partisans  of  France  proposed 
to  intrust  the  reins  of  government 
to  the  hands  of  John,  duke  of  Albany, 
the  son  of  that  Alexander  who  had 
been  banished  by  his  brother,  James 
III.  Seven  months  had  not  elapsed 
from  the  death  of  her  husband,  when 


J  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  43.    JRym.  xiii.  584. 

3  See  Rym.  xiii.  404;  Fiddes,  Collect. 
p.  15,  and  the  collection  of  letters  in  the 
Cotton  library,  Cal.  B.  i.— viii. 

1  Wo  are  told,  on  the  authority  of  Poly- 
dore  (p.  646),  that  Bishop  Fox,  unable  to 
brook  the  ascendancy  of  Surrey,  recom- 
mended Wolsey  to  the  king,  and  left  the 
court.  This  ia  probably  »  fiction,  as  the 


bishop  retained  his  office,  and  negotiated 
treaties  till  the  year  1510.— Ryra.  Jtiii.  553. 
No  more  credit  is  due  to  the  tale,  that  the 
arrogance  of  Wolsey  drove  the  same  peer, 
when  he  was  duke  of  Norfolk,  from  the 
cabinet.  That  nobleman  retained  his  office 
of  treasurer  till  a  short  time  before  his 
death,  and  then  resigned  it  to  his  son,  the 
earl  of  Surrey,  in  1522.— Bym.  xiii,  777. 


A.D.  1515.] 


INVASION  OF  ITALY. 


189 


Margaret  was  safely  delivered  of  a 
second  son,  Alexander,  duke  of  Ross  ; 
but  in  less  than  three  months  after- 
wards, she  displeased  both  the  nation 
and  her  brother,  by  marrying  the 
young  earl  of  Angus,  a  nobleman 
who  might  indeed  boast  of  a  hand- 
some person,  but  who  possessed 
neither  knowledge  nor  experience, 
and  united  with  an  insatiate  ambi- 
tion the  most  headstrong  passions. 
This  hasty  and  unequal  union  de- 
prived her  of  her  most  powerful 
adherents ;  and  a  national  deputation 
invited  the  duke  of  Albany  to  assume 
the  government  of  the  kingdom. 
That  prince  was  a  foreigner,  as  well 
by  affection  as  birth;  the  whole  of 
his  property  lay  in  the  kingdom  of 
Trance;  and  he  stood  high  in  the 
confidence  of  the  French  monarch. 
His  appointment  naturally  alarmed 
the  king  of  England,  whose  interest 
it  was  to  sever,  if  it  were  possible, 
the  ancient  connection  between  Scot- 
land and  France.  "With  this  view  he 
exacted  both  from  Louis,  who  was  at 
the  time  employed  in  soliciting  the 
treaty  of  alliance,  and  afterwards  from 
his  successor,  when  he  renewed  it, 
a  solemn  promise  that  Albany  should 
never  be  permitted  to  leave  the  shores 
of  France.  Each  of  these  monarchs 
complied ;  and  yet  the  Scots  had  no 
sooner  accepted  the  article  by  which 
they  were  comprehended  in  the  treaty, 
than  Albany  appeared  among  them, 
took  on  himself  the  supreme  autho- 
rity, and  openly  avowed  his  deter- 
mined hostility  to  the  queen  and 
her  partisans.  Henry  had  already 
tampered  with  that  princess  to  bring 
her  children  to  England,  and  intrust 
them  to  the  care  of  their  uncle ;  but 
Albany  besieged  the  castle  of  Stirling, 
compelled  the  queen  to  surrender  the 
two  princes,  and  placed  them  under 


1  These  events  arc  very  incorrectly  given 
in  most  of  our  historians.  The  industry  of 
Mr,  Piakerton.  has  jillected  them  from  the 


the  custody  of  three  lords  appointed 
by  parliament.1 

These  events  had  already  taught 
the  king  of  England  to  view  with 
jealousy  the  conduct  of  his  "good 
brother  and  perpetual  ally,"  the 
French  monarch.  Orders  were  sent 
to  the  English  ambassador  to  com- 
plain that  the  commerce  of  the  king's 
subjects  was  interrupted  by  the  French 
mariners,  under  colour  of  letters  of 
marque  issued  by  the  late  king  of 
Scots;  that  Albany  had  been  per- 
mitted to  leave  France,  and  assume 
the  government  of  Scotland,  in  viola- 
tion of  the  royal  promise;  and  that 
in  consequence  of  his  arrival,  the 
queen,  the  sister  of  Henry,  had  been 
deprived  of  her  right  to  the  regency 
of  the  kingdom  and  the  guardianship 
of  her  children.2  Francis,  whose  youth 
and  accomplishments  made  him  the 
idol  of  his  people,  had  already  formed 
the  most  gigantic  projects  of  conquest 
and  aggrandisement,  from  which  he 
did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  diverted 
by  the  remonstrances  of  Henry. 
Having  endeavoured  to  pacify  that 
monarch  by  apologies,  denials,  and 
promises,  he  put  in  motion  a  nume- 
rous army  which  he  had  collected 
with  the  avowed  purpose  of  chastising 
the  hostility  of  the  Helvetic  cantons ; 
but,  instead  of  following  the  direct 
road  either  into  Switzerland  or  Italy, 
he  passed  unexpectedly  between  the 
maritime  and  Cottian  Alpg,  and 
poured  his  cavalry  into  the  extensive 
plains  of  Lombardy.  His  real  object 
was  now  manifest.  The  Italian  princes 
whose  jealousy  had  guarded  to  no 
purpose  the  accustomed  roads  over 
the  Alps,  were  filled  with  consterna- 
tion ;  in  a  consistory  at  Eome,  it  was 
proposed  to  solicit  the  aid  of  Henry 
and  a  few  days  later  Leo,  to  secure 
the  mediation  of  "Wblsey,  named  that 


original  letters. — See  his   history,  vol.  ii. 
book  xii.  2  Fiddefl,  91,  93. 


190 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vi. 


minister  cardinal  priest  of  St.  Cicely 
beyond  the  Tiber.1 

Francis,  who  still  affected  to  be 
thought  the  friend  of  the  English 
monarch,  received  the  first  intelli- 
gence of  this  promotion ;  and  though 
he  was  aware  of  its  object,  despatched  a 
messenger  to  offer  his  congratulations 
to  Wolsey.  But  neither  that  prelate 
nor  his  sovereign  could  view  with 
satisfaction  the  progress  of  the  young 
conqueror,  who,  by  the  bloody  but 
decisive  victory  of  Marignano,  and 
the  subsequent  reduction  of  Milan, 
had  repaired  the  losses  of  his  prede- 
cessor, and  restored  the  ascendancy 
of  the  French  power  in  Italy.  Was 
the  former  league  to  be  renewed,  or 
was  Francis  to  be  permitted  to  pursue 
his  conquests?  After  much  delibe- 
ration in  the  English  cabinet,  it  was 
resolved  to  follow  a  middle  course 
between  peace  and  war;  to  avoid 
actual  hostilities  with  France,  but  to 
animate  its  enemies  with  hopes,  and 
to  aid  them  with  subsidies.  Some 
money  was  advanced,  more  was  pro- 
mised both  to  the  emperor  and  the 
cantons  of  Switzerland;  an  army  of 
fifteen  thousand  Germans,  and  of  an 
equal  number  of  Swiss,  was  collected ; 
and  the  emperor  Maximilian  at  its 
head  forced  his  way  to  the  very  gates 
of  Milan.  But  here  his  resources 
failed,  and  a  mutiny  of  his  troops, 
who  demanded  their  pay,  compelled 
him  to  retrace  his  steps  to  the  city 
of  Trent.  There  he  sent  for  Wing- 
field,  the  English  agent,  and  made 
to  him  the  following  most  singular 
proposal.  It  was  evident,  he  said, 
that  the  other  powers  would  never 
permit  either  himself  or  Francis  to 
retain  permanent  possession  of  Milan. 
Would  then  the  king  of  England 
accept  the  investiture  of  the  duchy  ? 
In  that  case  he  was  ready  to  adopt 
Henry  for  his  son,  and  to  resign  in 
his  favour  the  imperial  dignity;  but 


Raynald,  xx.  192. 


on  these  conditions,  that  the  king 
should  declare  war  against  France, 
should  cross  the  sea  with  an  army,  and 
should  march  by  Tournay  to  the  city 
of  Treves,  where  Maximilian  would 
meet  him,  and  make  the  resignation 
with  all  the  formalities  required  by 
law.  Thence  the  two  princes,  leav- 
ing the  bulk  of  the  English  forces  to 
invade  France  in  conjunction  with 
an  army  of  Germans,  might  proceed 
together  tow&rds  Italy,  pass  the  Alps 
at  Coire,  take  possession  of  Milan, 
and  continue  their  journey  to  Rome, 
where  Henry  should  receive  the  im- 
perial crown  from  the  hands  of  the 
sovereign  pontiff." 

There  was  much  in  this  dazzling 
and  romantic  scheme  to  captivate  the 
youthful  imagination  of  the  king,  but 
he  had  the  good  sense  to  listen  to 
the  advice  of  his  council,  contented 
himself  with  accepting  the  offer  of 
adoption,  and  directed  his  atten- 
tion to  a  matter  which  more  nearly 
concerned  his  own  interests,  the 
conduct  of  the  duke  of  Albany  in 
Scotland.  Against  the  regency  of 
that  prince  he  had  remonstrated  in 
strong  and  threatening  terms.  The 
Scottish  parliament  returned  a  firm, 
though  respectful  answer  ;3  but 
Francis,  who  still  dreaded  the  hosti- 
lity of  the  king  of  England,  advised 
the  Scots  to  conclude  a  perpetual 
peace  with  Henry,  refused  to  ratify 
the  renewal  of  the  ancient  alliance 
between  the  two  kingdoms,  though  it 
had  been  signed  by  his  envoy  at  Edin- 
burgh, and  even  required  the  regent, 
in  quality  of  his  subject,  to  return  to 
France.  Albany,  whether  he  dis- 
liked the  task  of  governing  a  turbu- 
lent people,  of  whose  very  language 
he  was  ignorant,  or  was  intimidated 
by  the  threats  of  Henry  and  the 
displeasure  of  his  own  sovereign, 
willingly  obeyed  the  commands ;  and, 
under  the  pretence  of  some  urgent 


2  Fiddes,  p.lli. 


.  560. 


A.D.  1518.]        WOLSEY'S  POWER  AND  OPULENCE. 


Ibl 


business,  obtained  permission  from 
the  Scottish  parliament  to  revisit  his 
family  and  estates.  But  before  his 
departure  provision  was  made  for 
the  return  of  Margaret,  who  had 
sought  an  asylum  in  England ;  and  a 
temporary  council  was  appointed,  in 
which  the  numbers  of  the  two  parties 
were  nearly  balanced,  and  under  the 
nominal  government  of  which  Scot- 
land passed  four  years  of  dissension 
and  anarchy.1 

Francis  having  won  the  duchy  of 
Milan,  determined  to  secure  his  con- 
quest by  disarming  the  hostility  of 
his  neighbours.  With  large  sums  of 
money,  he  purchased  the  consent  of 
the  Helvetic  states  to  a  perpetual 
peace;  Charles  of  Austria,  who  had 
succeeded  Ferdinand  on  the  throne 
of  Spain,  was  persuaded  to  accept  the 
hand  of  the  princess  Louisa,  an  in- 
fant of  one  year,  with  the  rights  of 
the  house  of  Anjou  to  the  crown  of 
Naples  as  her  dower ;  and  Maximi- 
lian himself,  by  the  lure  of  pecuniary 
advantages,  was  induced  to  accede  to 
the  treaty  between  France  and  Spain.2 
But,  though  Francis  was  now  at  peace 
with  all  the  powers  of  Europe,  he 
felt  alarmed  at  the  unfriendly  con- 
duct of  the  king  of  England,  who 
had  not  only  aided  his  enemies  with 
money,  but  had  lately  concluded  a 
secret  treaty  against  him  with  Maxi- 
milian and  Charles.3  It  chanced  that 
at  this  period,  Selim,  emperor  of  the 
Turks,  having  conquered  Egypt  and 
Syria,  had  collected  a  numerous  army, 
and  publicly  threatened  the  extir- 
pation of  the  Christian  name.  The 
princes  on  the  borders  of  Turkey 
trembled  for  their  existence;  Maxi- 
milian, in  a  letter  to  the  pontiff, 
offered  to  devote  his  remaining  years 


to  the  common  service  of  Chris- 
tendom, in  opposing  the  enemies  o' 
the  cross;  and  Leo,  having  by  his 
own  authority  proclaimed  a  general 
truce  of  five  years,  despatched  legates 
to  the  different  powers,  exhorting 
them  to  compose  their  private  quar- 
rels, and  to  unite  their  forces  in  their 
common  defence.  His  advice  was 
followed ;  the  pope,  the  emperor,  and 
the  kings  of  England,  France,  and 
Spain,  entered  into  a  confederacy, 
by  which  they  were  bound  to  aid  and 
protect  each  other,  and  in  every  case 
of  invasion  of  territory,  whether  the 
invader  were  one  of  the  confederates 
or  not,  to  unite  their  arms  in  defence 
of  the  party  aggrieved,  and  to  obtain 
justice  for  him  from  the  aggressor.4 
At  the  same  time,  to  cement  the 
union  between  England  and  France, 
the  dauphin,  an  infant  just  born,  was 
affianced  to  Mary,  the  daughter  of 
Henry,  a  child  not  four  years  old; 
and,  that  every  probable  occasion  of 
dispute  might  be  done  away,  Tournay 
with  its  dependencies  was  restored  to 
France  for  the  sum  of  six  hundred 
thousand  crowns.5  Thus  after  ten 
years  of  war  and  negotiation,  of 
bloodshed  and  perfidy,  were  all  the 
powers  re-established  in  the  same 
situation  in  which  they  had  stood 
previously  to  the  league  of  Cambray, 
with  the  exception  of  the  unfortu- 
nate, and  perhaps  unoffending  king 
of  Navarre,  whose  territories  on  the 
south  of  the  Pyrenees  could  not  be 
recovered  from  the  unrelenting  grasp 
of  Spain. 

Wolsey  still  retained  the  first  plate 
in  the  royal  favour,  and  continued  to 
rise  in  power  and  opulence.  Arch- 
bishop Warham  had  often  solicited 
permission  to  retire  from  the  Chancery 


1  Pinkerton,  ii.  157—166. 

2  Dumont,  iv.  par.  i.  199,  256. 


2  Dumont,  iv.  par.  i.  199,  256. 

3  Rym.  xiii.  556—566. 

*  A  similar  treaty  had  been  concluded  the 
year  before  by  the  emperor,  and  the  kings 
of  England  and  Spain.  —  See  Chron.  :  cata- 
jogue  of  materials  for  the  Fcedera,  p.  125. 


s  Eym.  xiii.  678,  603,  606,  610-700.  As 
the  parties  were  children,  the  king  and 
queen  of  France  made  the  contract  in  the 
name  of  their  son,  and  the  king  and  queen 
of  England,  by  their  proxy,  the  earl  of 
Somerset,  in  the  name  of  their  daughter. 


192 


HENEY  Till. 


Lciur.  vi. 


to  the  exercise  of  his  episcopal  func- 
tions; and  the  king,  having  at  last 
accepted  his  resignation,  tendered  the 
seals  to  the  cardinal.  Whether  it 
was  through  an  affectation  of  mo- 
desty, or  that  he  thought  this  office 
incompatible  with  his  other  duties, 
Wolsey  declined  the  offer ;  nor  was  it 
till  after  repeated  solicitations  that 
he  acquiesced  in  the  wish  of  his  sove- 
reign.1 He  had,  however,  no  objec- 
tion to  the  dignity  of  papal  legate, 
with  which  he  was  invested  by  Leo  X. 
The  commission  was  originally  limited 
to  two  years;  but  Wolsey  procured 
successive  prorogations  from  different 
popes,  and,  not  content  with  the  ordi- 
nary jurisdiction  of  the  office,  repeat- 
edly solicited  additional  powers,  till 
at  length  he  possessed  and  exercised 
within  the  realm  almost  all  the  pre- 
rogatives of  the  sovereign  pontiff.2 
Nor  was  his  ambition  yet  satisfied. 
We  shall  afterwards  behold  him,  at 
the  death  of  each  pope,  labouring,  but 
in  vain,  to  seat  himself  in  the  chair  of 
St.  Peter. 

His  love  of  wealth  was  subordi- 
nate only  to  his  love  of  power.  As 
chancellor  and  legate  he  derived  con- 
siderable emoluments  from  the  courts 
in  which  he  presided.  He  was  also 
archbishop  of  York ;  he  farmed  the 
revenues  of  Hereford  and  Worcester, 
sees  which  had  been  granted  to  fo- 
reigners ;  he  held  in  commend^tn  the 
abbey  of  St.  Alban's,  with  the  bishopric 
of  Bath ;  and  afterwards,  as  they  be- 
came vacant,  he  exchanged  Bath  for 
the  rich  bishopric  of  Durham,  and 
Durham  for  the  administration  of  the 
still  richer  church  of  Winchester.3  To 


these  sources  of  wealth  should  ba 
added  the  presents  and  pensions  which 
received  from  foreign  princes. 
Francis  settled  on  him  an  annuity  of 
twelve  thousand  livres,  as  a  compeii- 
sation  for  the  bishopric  of  Tournay ; 
and  Charles  and  Leo  granted  him  a 
yearly  pension  of  seven  thousand  five 
hundred  ducats  from  the  revenues  of 
the  bishoprics  of  Toledo  and  Palencia 
n  Spain.4  In  justice  to  his  memory 
it  should,  however,  be  observed,  that 
if  he  grasped  at  wealth,  it  was  to 
spend,  not  to  hoard  it.  His  establish- 
ment was  on  the  most  princely  scale, 
comprising  no  fewer  than  five,  per 
haps  eight,  hundred  individuals.  Tb  * 
chief  offices  were  filled  by  barons  aiK. 
knights ;  and  among  his  retainers  he 
numbered  the  sons  of  many  distin- 
guished families  who  aspired  under 
his  patronage  to  civil  or  military  pre- 
ferment. On  occasions  of  ceremony, 
he  appeared  with  a  pomp  which, 
though  it  might  be  unbecoming  in  a 
clergyman,  showed  him  to  be  the 
representative  of  the  king  of  England, 
and  of  the  sovereign  pontiff.  The  en- 
signs of  his  several  dignities,  as  chan- 
cellor and  legate,  were  borne  before 
him ;  he  was  surrounded  by  noble- 
men and  prelates ;  and  was  followed 
by  a  long  train  of  mules  bearing 
coffers  on  their  backs  covered  with 
pieces  of  crimson  cloth.  He  spared 
no  expense  in  his  buildings ;  and,  as 
soon  as  he  had  finished  the  palace  of 
Hampton  Court,  and  furnished  it  to 
his  taste,  he  gave  the  whole  to  Henry ; 
perhaps  the  most  magnificent  present 
that  a  subject  ever  made  to  his  sove- 
reign. The  character  of  Wolsey  has 


1  Rym.  xiii.  630.  Some  writers  have 
ascribed  the  resignation  of  Warham  to  com- 
pulsion, arising  from  the  desire  of  Wolsey 
to  occupy  his  place.  It  will  be  difficult  to 
reconcile  this  supposition  with  the  contem- 
porary testimony  of  Sir  Thomas  More  and 
Ammoniua.  Archiepiscopus  Cantuariensis 
officip  caiicellarji,  cujus  onus  jam  aliquot, 
ut  scis,  annos  mirum  quam  laborabat  excu- 
tere,  tandem  exsolutus  est. —  Ep.  Mori 
Erasino,  ana.  1516.  Apad  Erasm.  torn.  iii. 


p.  234.  Tuus  Cantuariensis  cum  bona  regia 
venia  magistrStu  se  abdicavit :  quern  Ebora- 
censis  impendio  rogatus  suscepit. — Ammon. 
Erasmo,  Feb.  17,  ann.  1517,  p.  221.  More, 
in  his  letter  to  Warham  himself,  notices  the 
same. — Magistratum  deponere  (quod  tua 
paternitas  magno  labore  impetravit  ut 
liceret  facere),  &c.— Apud  Stapleton,  Vit. 
Mori,  p.  236.  2  Kym.  xiii.  734;  xiv.  18. 

s  Ryra.  xiii.  620,  763,  7S3  j  xiv.  268, 

*  Ibid.  xii.  610,  713. 


A.D.  1520.  j 


WOLSEY—HIS  CHARACTER. 


193 


been  portrayed  by  the  pencil  of  Eras- 
mus, who  had  tasted  of  his  bounty,1 
and  by  that  of  Polydore,  whom  his 
justice  or  policy  had  thrown  into  con- 
finement. Neglecting  the  venal  praise 
of  the  one,  and  the  venomous  slander 
cf  the  other,  we  may  pronounce  him 
a  minister  of  consummate  address 
and  commanding  abilities ;  greedy  of 
wealth,  and  power,  and  glory  ;  anxious 
to  exalt  the  throne  on  which  his  own 
greatness  was  built,  and  the  church 
of  which  he  was  so  distinguished  a 
member ;  but  capable,  in  the  pursuit 
of  these  different  objects,  of  stooping 
to  expedients,  which  sincerity  and 
justice  would  disavow,  and  of  adopt- 
ing, through  indulgence  to  the  caprice 
and  passions  of  the  king,  measures 
which  often  involved  him  in  contra- 
dictions and  difficulties,  and  ultimately 
occasioned  his  ruin.  As  legate,  he  is 
said  to  have  exercised  without  deli- 
cacy his  new  superiority  over  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  and  to  have 
drawn  to  his  court  the  cognizance  of 
causes  which  belonged  to  that  pri- 
mate ;  but  the  question  of  right  be- 
tween them  admitted  of  much  dispute, 
and  it  is  acknowledged  on  the  other 
hand,  that  he  reformed  many  abuses 
in  the  church,  and  compelled  the 
secular  and  regular  clergy  to  live 
according  to  the  canons.  His  office 
of  chancellor  afforded  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  the  versatility  and 
superiority  of  his  talents.  He  was 
not,  indeed,  acquainted  with  the  sub- 
tleties and  minutise  of  legal  proceed- 
ings, and  on  that  account  was  careful 


to  avail  himself  of  the  knowledge  and 
experience  of  others ;  but  he  always 
decided  according  to  the  dictates  of  his 
own  judgment :  and  the  equity  of  his 
decrees  was  universally  admitted  and 
applauded.2  To  appease  domestic 
quarrels,  and  reconcile  families  at 
variance  with  each  other,  he  was 
accustomed  to  offer  himself  as  a 
friendly  arbitrator  between  the  par- 
ties; that  the  poor  might  pursue 
their  claims  with  facility  and  without 
expense,  he  established  courts  of 
requests ;  in  the  ordinary  administra- 
tion of  justice  he  introduced  improve- 
ments which  were  received  with  grati- 
tude by  the  country  ;3  and  he  made 
it  his  peculiar  care  to  punish  with 
severity  those  offenders  who  had  de- 
frauded the  revenue,  or  oppressed  the 
people.  But  his  reputation  and  the 
ease  with  which  he  admitted  suits, 
crowded  the  Chancery  with  peti- 
tioners ;  he  soon  found  himself  over- 
whelmed with  a  multiplicity  of  busi- 
ness; and  the  king,  to  relieve  him, 
established  four  subordinate  courts, 
of  which  that  under  the  presidency 
of  the  Master  of  the  Eolls  is  still 
preserved. 

Literature  found  in  the  cardinal  a 
constant  and  bountiful  patron.  He 
employed  his  influence  in  foreign 
courts,  to  borrow  valuable  manu- 
scripts for  the  purpose  of  transcrip- 
tion.4 On  native  scholars  he  heaped 
preferment,  and  the  most  eminent 
foreigners  were  invited  by  him  to 
teach  in  the  universities.  Both  of 
these  celebrated  academies  were  the 


1  Erasmus  praises  him  highly  in  some  of 
his  epistles  (see  p.  262,  269 ;  also  321,  314, 
463),  and  yet  had  the  meanness  to  dispraise 
him  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  his  fall.     Metue- 
batur  ab  omnibus,  amabatur  a  paucia,  ne 
dicam  a  nemine.— Ann.  1530,  p.  1347. 

2  Princeps  Cantuariensi  suffecit  Ebora- 
censem,  qui  ita  se  gerit  ut  spem  quoque 
omnium,  quanquam  pro  reliquis  ejus  virtu- 
tibus  maximam,  longe  tamen  exsuperet ;  et, 
quod  est  difficillimum,  post  optimum  prse- 
decessorem  valde  probetur    et    placeat.— 
Morus  Erasmo,  p.  234.    Quern  magistratum 


Eboracensis    pulcherrime    gerit.— Ammon. 
Erasmo,  p.  221. 

8  Alia  porro  constituit  judicia  ubi  pau- 
perum  querimonise  exaudirentur  :  multaque 
ordinavit  in  rebus  civilibus  popularibua 
grata,  ac  nobis  in  hunc  usque  diem  usur- 
pata,  quibus  Tirum  se  ostendit  sapieutissi- 
mum  nee  non  reipublicae  amantem. — God- 
win, 14.  I  wiuh  he  h:  d  particularized  these 
institutions. 

4  See  instances  in  Mr.  Brown's  Ragguagli, 
iii.  145,  146.  Voria  farli  acopiar  in  carta 
buona.  They  were  intended  for  his  college 
at  Oxford.— Ibid. 

O 


19-1 


HENRY  VIII. 


.  TII 


objects  of  his  care ;  but  Oxford  chiefly 
experienced  his  munificence  in  the 
endowment  of  seven  lectureships,  and 
the  foundation  of  Christ  Church, 
which,  though  he  lived  not  to  com- 
plete it,  still  exists  a  splendid  monu- 
ment to  his  memory.  As  a  nursery 
for  this  establishment  he  erected  an- 
other college  at  Ipswich,  the  place  of 
his  nativity. 

But  these  occupations  at  home  did 
not  divert  his  eyes  from  tho  shifting 
scenes  of  politics  abroad.  He  was 
constantly  informed  of  the  secret  his- 
tory of  the  continental  courts;  and 
his  despatches,  of  which  many  are 
still  extant,  show  that  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  pursue  every  event  through 
all  its  probable  consequences ;  to  con- 
sider each  measure  in  its  several 


bearings;  and  to  furnish  his  agents 
with  instructions  beforehand  for 
almost  every  contingency.  His  groat 
object  was  to  preserve  the  balance  of 
power  between  the  rival  houses  of 
France  and  Austria ;'  and  to  this  wo 
should  refer  the  mutable  politics  of  the 
English  cabinet,  which  first  deserted 
Francis  tosupportthecause  of  Charles, 
and,  when  Charles  had  obtained  the 
ascendancy,  abandoned  him  to  repair 
the  broken  fortunes  of  Francis.  The 
consequence  was,  that  as  long  as  Wol- 
sey  presided  in  the  council,  the  mi- 
nister was  feared  and  courted  by 
princes  and  pontiffs,  the  king  held 
the  distinguished  station  ol  arbiter 
of  Europe. 


1  Raynald.    viii.    459. 
p.  1436. 


Moro's    Works, 


CHAPTER    VII. 


CHARLES    V.    IS    ELECTED    EMPEROR INTERVIEW    BETWEPN     HENRY    AND    FRANCIS 

ARKRST  AND  EXECUTION  OP  TUB  DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM — WOLSBY  IS  ARBITRATOR. 
BETWEEN  FRANCIS  AND  CHARLES — IS  DISAPPOINTKD  OF  THE  PAPACY — 18  OPPOSED 
IN  HIS  ATTEMPT  TO  RAISE  MOSEY — THE  ENGLISH  INVADE  FRANCE — BATTLE  OF 
PAVIA,  AND  CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCIS — HENRY  DBS*  "*  CHARLES,  AND  MAKES 

PEACE     WITH     FRANCE — TREATY     OF     MADRID — ORIGI         OF     THE     INFORMATION 

HENRY    WRITES    AGAINST    LUTHER — HE    IS    DBCLARfD    DEFENDER   OF    THE   FAITH. 


CHABLES  of  Austria,  who,  in  right 
of  his  father  Philip,  had  inherited  the 
rich  and  populous  provinces  of  the 
Netherlands,  the  ancient  patrimony 
of  the  house  of  Burgundy,  ascended 
the  Spanish  throne  on  the  death  of 
Ferdinand,  as  the  representative  of 
his  mother  Juana,  the  daughter  of 
that  monarch  by  Isabella  of  Castile. 
He  was  in  the  vigour  of  youth,  gifted 
with  superior  talents,  and  anxious  to 
earn  the  laurels  of  a  conqueror ;  qua- 
lities which  equally  formed  the  cha- 
racter of  his  neighbour,  the  king  of 
France.  Had  there  existed  no  he- 
reditary enmity  between  the  two 


families,  n^  conflicting  claims  to  the 
possession  of  the  same  territories, 
still  their  common  ambition,  and  that 
desire  which  each  displayed  of  be- 
coming the  first  among  the  princes 
of  Christendom,  would  have  made 
them  rivals,  and  adversaries.  This 
power  was  almost  equally  balanced. 
If  the  dominions  of  Charles  were 
more  extensive,  those  of  Francis  were 
more  compact ;  if  the  one  could  com- 
mand the  services  of  a  more  numerous 
population,  the  other  ruled  with  fewer 
impediments,  and  with  more  absolute 
sway.  The  French  rnonarcns  had  suc- 
cessively annexed  to  the  crown  those 


A.D.  1519.J 


CHARLES  ELECTED  EMPEROR. 


195 


fiefs  which  had  formerly  rendered 
their  possessors  almost  independent 
of  the  sovereign  ;  and,  by  crushing 
the  feudal  aristocracy  of  ancient  times, 
had  enabled  themselves  to  wield  at 
pleasure,  and  without  contradiction, 
the  whole  power  of  their  empire.  But 
in  the  Netherlands  the  measures  of 
the  prince  were  perpetually  impeded 
by  the  opposition  of  the  states ;  and 
even  in  Spain,  though  the  different 
kingdoms  which  once  divided  the 
peninsula  hnd  been,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Portugal,  moulded  by  the 
genius  of  Ferdinand  into  one  powerful 
monarchy,  yet  the  exercise  of  the 
royal  authority  was  greatly  circum- 
scribed by  the  rights  and  immunities 
still  claimed  by  the  Cortes  and  the 
nobility. 

Three  years  after  the  demise  of 
Ferdinand,  the  rivalry  between  the 
young  kings  was  called  into  full  ac- 
tivity by  the  death  of  the  emperor 
Maximilian.  That  prince,  anxious 
to  secure  the  succession  to  the  impe- 
rial crown  in  the  house  of  Austria, 
had  in  the  last  diet  solicited  the 
electors  to  name  his  grandson  Charles 
king  of  the  Romans.  The  majority 
had  promised  their  voices ;  but  from 
this  engagement  they  were  released 
by  his  death,  and  were  now  summoned 
to  choose  not  a  king  of  the  Romans, 
but  an  emperor.  Charles  announced 
himself  a  candidate ;  and  the  vanity 
of  Francis  immediately  prompted  him 
to  come  forward  as  a  competitor. 
The  intrigues  of  the  French  and  Spa- 
nish courts  on  this  occasion  are  fo- 
reign from  the  subject  of  the  present 
work;  but  the  conduct  of  Henry 
demands  the  attention  of  the  reader. 
His  former  refusal  of  the  imperial 
crown,  when  it  was  offered  by  Maxi- 
milian, had  not  proceeded  from  the 
moderation  of  his  desires,  but  from 
diffidence  in  the  sincerity  of  his  ally. 


1  Frederic,  elector  of  Saxony,  was  the 
favourite.  The  niajority  offered  to  place 
him  on  the  imperial  throne ;  but  he  had  the 


Now  that  the  glittering  prize  was 
open  to  competition,  he  disclosed 
his  wishes  to  his  favourite  ;  and  both 
the  king  and  the  cardinal,  recipro- 
cally inflaming  the  ambition  of  eacli 
other,  indulged  in  the  most  flattering 
delusions.  In  fancy  they  were  already 
seated,  the  one  on  the  throne  of  the 
Caesars,  the  other  in  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter,  and  beheld  the  whole  Christian 
world,  laity  and  clergy,  prostrate  at 
their  feet. 

The  election  of  Henry  would  se- 
cure, it  was  foretold,  the  elevation  of 
Wolsey  ;  and  the  bishop  of  Worcester 
was  commissioned  to  procure  the  con- 
sent and  aid  of  the  pope,  whilst  Pace 
hastened  to  Germany,  with  instruc- 
tions to  sound  the  dispositions  of  the 
electors,  to  make  them  the  most 
tempting  promises,  and,  if  he  saw  a 
prospect  of  success,  to  name  the  king 
of  England  as  a  candidate ;  if  nofc,  to 
propose  a  native  prince,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  both  Francis  and  Charles. 
But  experience  soon  taught  this  en- 
voy that  with  mere  promises  he  was 
no  match  for  the  agents  of  the  other 
candidates,  who  came  furnished  with 
ready  money ;  and  therefore  adhering 
to  subsequent  instructions,  he  threw 
into  the  scale  the  whole  weight  of  his 
influence  in  favour  of  the  king  of 
Spain,  who  after  a  long  debate  was 
chosen  without  a  dissentient  voice.1 
In  this  transaction  Francis  had  great 
reason  to  complain  of  the  duplicity  of 
his  "good  brother."  From  the  very 
beginning  he  had  received  assurances 
of  the  most  cordial  support  from  the 
English  court,  and  in  return  had  ex- 
pressed his  gratitude  to  the  king  by  a 
letter  of  thanks,  and  to  Wolsey  by  a 
promise  of  securing  for  him  on  the 
first  vacancy  fourteen  votes  in  the 
conclave.  Prudence,  however,  taught 
him  to  accept  with  seeming  satis- 
faction the  apology  of  the  English 


wisdom  or  the  magnanimity  to  refuse. — See 
the  letters  of  Cajetan,  Le'ttere  di  Principi^ 
i.  60—66 ;  and  Martini,  iii.  1280. 

o  a 


HENBY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  vi : 


cabinet,  that  Pace  would  have  aided 
him,  had  there  appeared  any  chance 
of  success,  and  had  only  seconded  the 
election  of  Charles,  because  it  was  in 
vain  to  oppose  it.1 

Though  the  two  competitors  during 
the  contest  had  professed  the  highest 
esteem  for  each  other,  the  bitterest 
animosity  already  rankled  in  their 
hearts,  and  each  sought  to  fortify  him- 
self with  the  support  of  Henry  against 
the  presumed  hostility  of  his  rival. 
To  Francis  the  late  conduct  of  the 
king  of  England  afforded  but  slender 
hopes  of  success ;  he  trusted,  however, 
to  his  own  address  and  eloquence; 
and  summoned  Henry  to  perform  an 
article  in  the  last  treaty,  by  which  it 
was  agreed  that  the  two  monarchs 
should  meet  each  other  on  the  border 
of  their  respective  dominions.  The 
intelligence  alarmed  the  jealousy  of 
the  Spanish  cabinet;  remonstrances 
were  made  against  an  interview  so 
pregnant  with  mischief  to  the  inte- 
rests of  Charles;  and  Henry,  while 
he  pretended  a  readiness  to  fulfil 
the  treaty,  suggested  difficulties,  de- 
manded explanations,  and  artfully 
contrived  reasons  to  suspend  or  post- 
pone the  meeting.  But  his  cunning 
3vas  opposed  with  equal  cunning ;  and 
.Francis  brought  the  question  to  an 
issue  by  signing  a  commission,  which 
gave  full  power  to  Wolsey  to  settle 
Pvery  point  in  debate  as  he  should 
judge  most  conducive  to  the  joint 
honour  of  the  two  kings.  Having 
received  the  permission  of  Henry,  the 
Cardinal  decreed  that  the  interview 
should  take  place  between  Ardres  and 
Guisne?,  to  which  towns  the  two 
»\>urts  should  repair  before  the  last 


day  of  May,  and  that,  to  celebrate  the 
meeting,  a  tournament  should  be  held 
at  the  same  time,  in  which  the  kings 
of  England  and  France,  with  eighteen 
assistants,  should  answer  all  oppo- 
nents at  tilt,  tourney,  and  barriers/- 
Still the  struggle  continued  between 
the  two  monarchs,  the  one  labouring 
to  evade,  the  other  to  enforce,  this 
award. 

Among  the  artifices  to  which  Henry 
resorted,  there  is  one  which  will 
amuse  the  reader.  As  a  proof  of  his 
sincerity,  he  swore  before  the  French 
ambassador  that  he  would  never  more 
cut  his  beard  till  he  had  visited  "  his 
good  brother ;"  and  Francis,  anxious 
to  bind  him  still  faster,  immediately 
took  a  similar  oath.  But  the  former 
neglected,  the  latter  fulfilled  his  pro- 
mise ;  and,  when  long  beards  had  in 
consequence  become  the  prevailing 
fashion  in  the  French  court,  Sir 
Thomas  Boleyn  was  compelled  to 
apologise  for  the  bad  faith  of  his 
master,  by  alleging  that  the  queen  of 
England  felt  an  insuperable  antipathy 
to  a  bushy  chin.  At  length  Henry 
with  a  numerous  and  splendid  retinuo 
left  Greenwich,  and  proceeded  by 
slow  stages  to  Canterbury,  where,  to 
the  surprise  of  all  who  had  not  been 
admitted  into  the  secret,  advice  was 
received  that  Charles  with  a  squadron 
of  Spanish  ships  had  cast  anchor  in 
the  harbour  of  Hythe.  He  had  been 
impelled  (so  it  was  pretended)  by  the 
most  urgent  motives  to  visit  his 
paternal  dominions  in  the  Nether- 
lands ;  and  hearing,  as  he  sailed  up  the 
Channel,  that  the  English  court  was 
near  the  coast,  had  landed  to  pay  his 
respects  to  his  uncle  and  aunt.  This 


1  Apud  Fiddes,  219-224.  Ellis,  i.  146, 
158.  Wolsey  was  soon  convinced  of  the 
hopelessness  of  the  attempt  in  favour  of 
Henry.  Not  daring,  however,  to  hint  so 
much,  he  employed  Clerk,  afterwards  bishop 
of  Bath  and  Wells,  to  reason  with  the  king 
on  the  subject.  It  was  in  vain  :  "  Hia  grace 
considered  no  jupartys."— State  Papers,  i. 
S3.  Pace,  however,  on  his  return,  having 


been  privately  instructed  by  the  cardinal, 
so  exaggerated  the  price  which  Charles  had 
paid  for  the  imperial  crown,  that  his  grace 
said  "  he  was  right  gladde  that  he  obtcyn- 
ydde  not  the  same." — Ibid.  8. 

2  See  it  in  Hall,  70.  It  appears  that 
Henry  had  solicited  such  an  interview  for- 
merly with  Louis  XII.— Ellis,  2  Ser.  vol.  i, 
p.  235,  252. 


A,D.  1520.]        MEETING  OF  HENRY  AUTD  FRANCIS. 


197 


apparently  accidental  meeting  was 
celebrated  at  Canteroury  with  feasts 
and  rejoicings;  the  young  emperor 
by  his  flattery  and  attentions  rooted 
himself  in  the  affections  of  Henry,  and 
by  promises  and  presents  secured 
the  friendship  of  Wolsey ;  and  on  the 
fourth  day,  when  he  sailed  from  Sand- 
wich, the  king,  with  his  court,  crossed 
the  strait  from  Dover  to  Calais.1 

For  several  weeks  a  thousand  work- 
men had  been  busily  employed  in 
erecting  a  palace  of  framework  near 
the  castle  of  Guisnes.  It  was  of  a 
quadrangular  form,  and  measured  in 
compass  four  hundred  and  thirty  - 
seven  yards,  containing  a  most  sump- 
tuous chapel,  several  apartments  of 
state,  and  ample  accommodations  for 
the  king  and  queen,  and  their  nume- 
rous attendants.  No  expense  had 
been  spared  in  internal  or  external 
decorations.  The  furniture  was  new 
and  of  the  most  costly  description ; 
the  ceilings  were  covered  with  silk, 
and  the  walls  hung  with  cloth  of 
arras.  Near  the  town  of  Ardres  an 
edifice  of  similar  magnificence  had 
been  erected  for  the  king  of  France, 
and  adjoining  to  it  a  pavilion  or  ban- 
queting-room,  supported  from  the 
summit  of  a  mast  standing  in  the 
centre,  and  covered  entirely  with 
cloth  of  gold.  As  soon  as  the  kings 
had  reached  their  respective  resi- 
dences, the  cardinal  paid  a  visit  to 
Francis,  and  remained  with  him  two 
days.  The  result  was  an  additional 
treaty,  which  proves  the  extreme 
anxiety  of  that  monarch  to  secure 
the  friendship,  or  at  least  the  for- 
bearance of  the  English  king.  He 
was  already  bound  to  pay  one  million 
of  crowns  within  a  fixed  period ;  he 
now  engaged  for  himself  and  his  suc- 
cessors to  pay  to  Henry,  and  the  heirs 
of  Henry  for  ever,  the  yearly  sum  oi 
one  hundred  thousand  crowns,  in  the 


i  Hall,  72.  Pet.  Mart.  p.  369.  So  far 
was  this  visit  from  being  accidental,  tha 
Henry,  on  the  8th  of  April,  had  instructe^ 


vent  of  the  marriage  between  tha 
dauphin  and  the  princess  Mary  being 
ifterwards  solemnised,  and  the  issue 
>f  that  marriage  seated  on  the  Eng- 
ish  throne.  Moreover,  as  the  affairs 
>f  Scotland  had  long  been  a  source  of 
ealousy  and  contention  between  the 
;wo  crowns,  he  consented  that  they 
should  be  referred  to  the  amicable 
determination  of  the  cardinal  of  York, 
-ndof  Louisa,  his  own  mother.2  After 
iheso  preliminaries,  the  monarchs 
rode  from  their  several  residences  to 
>he  valley  of  Andern,  situate  within 
,he  territory  of  Guisnes.  Their  at- 
tendants halted  on  the  opposite  decli- 
vities. Henry  and  Francis  descended 
nto  the  valley,  alighted  from  their 
lorses,  embraced  each  other,  and 
walked  arm-in-arm  into  a  pavilion, 
which  had  been  prepared  for  their 
reception.  The  next  fortnight  was 
consumed  in  feats  of  arms,  in  ban- 
quets, and  in  disguisings.  During  six 
days  the  kings  and  their  associates 
tilted  with  spears  against  all  comers ; 
the  tourney  with  the  broadsword  011 
horseback  occupied  two  more;  and 
the  last  was  employed  in  fighting  at 
the  barriers  on  foot.  The  queens  of 
England  and  France  with  their  ladies 
and  officers  beheld  the  combatants 
from  the  galleries;  and  the  heralds 
daily  registered  the  names,  the  arms, 
and  the  feats  of  the  knights. 

On  every  occasion  the  two  king? 
appeared  with  equal  splendour,  anu 
acquitted  themselves  with  equal 
applause;  their  bravest  antagonists 
deemed  it  no  disgrace  to  yield  to  royal 
prowess;  and  Henry  and  Francis, 
though  they  fought  five  battles  each 
day,  invariably  overcame  every  oppo- 
nent. Yet  amidst  this  display  of 
friendship,  a  secret  jealousy  divided 
the  two  nations.  Rumours  of  in- 
tended treachery  were  repeatedly 
circulated  both  at  Ardres  and  Guisnes; 


his  ambassadors  to  fix  the  time  and  plac» 
— Chron.  Catalogue,  130. 
2  Eym.  xiii.  719—722,  723,  724. 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  vti. 


the  attendants  on  each  side  were  scru- 
pulously numbered;  both  kings  left 
their  respective  residences  at  the  same 
hour;  both  visited  the  queens  at  the 
same  time ;  both  met  at  the  exact  spot 
which  had  been  previously  fixed.  At 
length  the  frank  and  generous  temper 
of  Francis  spurned  at  these  precau- 
tions ;  and  early  one  morning  he  rode 
to  Guisnes,  surprised  Henry  in  his 
hed,  and  told  him  that  he  was  his 
prisoner.  But,  though  the  English 
monarch  affected  to  imitate  the  man- 
ner of  his  brother  of  France,  he  could 
not  subdue  his  apprehensions,  and, 
for  greater  security,  whenever  he 
returned  from  Ardres,  disguised  him- 
self and  his  attendants,  that  he  might 
not  be  known.  On  the  last  day 
Francis  took  leave  of  Queen  Catherine, 
&nd  was  returning  to  Ardres,  con- 
ducted by  the  cardinal  and  the  duke 
of  Buckingham,  when  he  met  a  body 
of  maskers,  among  whom  was  the  king 
of  England.  Henry  lowered  his  vizor, 
and  threw  a  collar  of  jewels  round  the 
neck  of  the  French  king,  who  in 
return  presented  his  English  brother 
with  a  bracelet  of  considerable  value. 
They  then  embraced,  and  bade  each 
other  farewell.' 

If  Francis  nattered  himself  that  in 
this  interview  he  had  made  a  favour- 
able impression  on  the  English  mo- 
narch, he  was  quickly  undeceived. 
He  had  remarked  with  surprise  that, 
though  the  tournament  had  been  pro- 
claimed in  the  dominions  of  Charles, 
not  one  Spanish  or  Burgundian  gen- 
tleman had  been  suffered  to  attend ; 
and  imprudently  betrayed  his  chagrin 
by  commanding  or  countenancing  an 
insidious,  though  unsuccessful,  at- 
tempt on  the  neighbouring  town  of 
St.  Omer.  But  his  jealousy  was  still 


more  alarmed,  when  he  had  learned 
that,  within  a  few  days  after  his  de- 
parture, Henry  had  met  his  imperial 
nephew  at  Wael,  had  accompanied 
him  to  Gravelines,  and  thence  had 
conducted  him  back  to  Calais  to  pay 
his  devoirs  to  his  aunt.  Every  artifice 
was  employed  to  discover  the  real 
object  of  this  second  meeting ;  French 
spies,  in  the  disguise  of  maskers,  insi- 
nuated themselves  into  the  palace; 
and  the  French  ambassador,  La 
Roche,  having  obtained  an  audience 
of  the  two  monarchs,  read  in  their  pre- 
sence the  tripartite  league  formerly 
concluded  between  them  and  Francis, 
and  required  Charles  to  ratify  it  with 
his  signature  as  emperor.  That  prince, 
however,  eluded  the  demand;  and 
after  a  visit  of  three  days,  returned 
into  his  own  dominions.  The  result 
of  both  these  interviews  had  been  in 
his  favour.  The  first  between  Henry 
and  Francis  had  served  only  to  con- 
firm the  rivalry,  which  had  so  long 
subsisted  between  England  and 
France ;  and  the  second  had  afforded 
him  the  opportunity  of  pleasing  the 
nation  by  his  affability  and  condescen- 
sion, and  of  flattering  the  vanity  of 
his  uncle,  by  appointing  him  umpire 
in  every  subsequent  difference  which 
might  arise  between  himself  and  the 
French  monarch.8 

In  the  interview  at  Andern,  not 
only  the  two  kings,  but  also  their 
attendants,  had  sought  to  surpass  each 
other  in  the  magnificence  of  their 
dress,  and  the  display  of  their  riches.3 
Of  the  French  nobility  it  was  said 
that  many  carried  their  whole  estates 
on  their  backs ; 4  among  the  English 
the  duke  of  Buckingham  ventured  to 
express  his  marked  disapprobation  of 
a  visit,  which  had  led  to  so  much 


1  Hall,  75—84.  Du  Bellay,  28.  Flenrange 
Me"m.  350.  Rutland  Papers,  28—49.  Chron. 
of  Calais,  p.  18,  notes,  p.  77-90. 

*  Hall,  84.  Pet.  Mart.  373.  Eutland 
Papers,  49,  59 

3  Polydore  complains  that  on  this  occasion 


tbe  English  ladies  began  to  adopt  the 
French  fashions,  and  to  exchange  their 
native  dress  for  one  less  becoming. — Polyd. 
661. 

»  Plusienrs  y  porterent  leurs  monlins, 
leurs  forests,  et  leurs  pr6z  sur  leurs  £paule». 
— Du  Bellav. 


A  r>.  1520.J 


ACCUSATION  OF  BUCKINGHAM. 


useless  expense.  By  those  writers, 
who  are  accustomed  to  attribute  to 
the  counsels  of  the  cardinal  every 
event  which  occurred  under  his  admi- 
nistration, it  has  been  supposed  that 
resentment  for  this  remark  induced 
"Wolsey  to  bring  the  duke,  by  false 
accusations,  to  the  scaffold.  But  more 
authentic  documents  refer  the  cause 
of  his  ruin  to  the  vanity  and  impru- 
dence of  Buckingham  himself,  who 
indulged  a  notion  that  he  should  one 
day  ascend  the  throne;  and  to  the 
jealousy  and  caution  of  Henry,  who 
was  not  of  a  temper  to  spare  the  man. 
from  whose  ambition  he  prognosti- 
cated danger  to  himself  or  his  poste- 
rity. The  duke  was  descended  from 
Edward  the  Third,  both  through  John 
of  Ghent,  duke  of  Lancaster,  and 
Thomas  of  Wookstock,  duke  of  Glou- 
cester; and  had  the  misfortune  to 
become  acquainted  with  Hopkins, 
prior  of  the  charter-house  at  Henton, 
who  pretended  to  the  gift  of  prophecy, 
and  employed  that  gift  to  flatter  the 
vanity  of  his  benefactor. 

"When  the  expedition  sailed  to  lay 
siege  to  Terouenne,  Hopkins  assured 
the  duke  that  Henry  would  return 
with  glory  from  France  ;  but  that 
James  of  Scotland,  if  he  should  pass 
the  borders,  would  not  live  to  revisit 
his  dominions.  The  accomplishment 
of  these  predictions  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  Buckingham's  mind ;  and 
he  listened  with  pleasure  and  credulity 
to  the  same  monk,  who  sometimes  ex- 
pressed his  fear  that  the  king  would 
leave  no  issue  to  inherit  the  throne, 
at  other  times  affected  to  foresee 
something  great  in  the  destiny  of 
young  Stafford,  the  duke's  son.1 
How  far  the  unfortunate  nobleman 
allowed  his  ambition  to  be  deluded 
by  these  predictions,  may  be  uncer- 
tain: but  enough  had  transpired  to 
awaken  the  suspicion  of  Henry,  who 
for  two  years  carefully  watched,  and, 


sometimes  perhaps,  unfairly  inter- 
preted, his  conduct.  He  had  of  late 
greatly  augmented  the  number  of  his 
retainers ;  and  among  others,  Sir 
William  Buhner  had  quitted  the 
king's  service  to  enter  into  that  of 
Buckingham.  Before  the  last  voyage 
to  France  the  knight  was  called  to  the 
star  chamber,  where  he  acknowledged 
his  fault,  and  on  his  knees  begged  for 
mercy.  Henry  replied  thai  he  par- 
doned him ;  but  that  "  he  would  none 
of  his  servants  should  hang  on  ano- 
ther man's  sleeve ;  and  what  might 
be  thought  by  his  departing,  and  what 
might  be  supposed  by  the  duke's 
retaining,  he  would  not  then  de- 
clare."2 The  meaning  of  this  enig- 
matical remark  was  not  disclosed  till 
eighteen  months  afterwards,  when 
Buckingham,  who  resided  on  his 
estate  at  Thornbury  in  Gloucester- 
shire, received  a  peremptory  order 
to  repair  to  the  court.  He  obeyed, 
and  was  followed  at  a  short  distance 
by  three  knights,  who  had  been 
secretly  instructed  not  to  lose  sight 
of  the  destined  victim.  His  sus- 
picions were  first  excited  at  Windsor, 
where  he  was  treated  with  unusual 
disrespect ;  they  were  confirmed  ab 
York-place,  where  the  cardinal  re- 
fused to  see  him.  With  a  misboding 
heart  he  entered  his  barge ;  and,  as 
he  sailed  down  the  river  towards 
Greenwich,  was  arrested,  and  con- 
veyed to  the  Tower.  The  cognizance 
of  his  guilt  was  referred  to  the  legiti- 
mate tribunal ;  and  before  the  duke 
of  Norfolk,  as  high  steward,  and  se- 
venteen other  peers,  he  was  charged 
with  having  elicited  the  prophesies  of 
Hopkins  by  messages,  and  personal 
interrogations  ;  with  having  sought 
to  debauch  by  promises  and  presents 
the  fidelity  of  the  king's  servants,  and 
of  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  ;  with, 
having  said,  when  he  was  reprimanded 
for  retaining  Sir  William  Bulmer, 


•  See  his  ovra  confession  in  Herbert,  100. 


2  Hall,  69. 


200 


HENRY  VIII, 


[CHAP.  vn. 


that  if  he  had  been  ordered  into 
confinement,  he  would  have  plunged 
nis  dagger  into  the  king's  heart ;  and 
with  having  avowed  his  determination, 
in  the  event  of  Henry's  death,  to  cut 
off  the  heads  of  the  cardinal  and  some 
others,  and  to  seize  the  government 
in  defiance  of  all  opponents.  The 
duke  first  objected  that  nothing  con- 
tained in  the  indictment  amounted 
to  an  overt  act,  which  was  necessary 
to  constitute  the  guilt  of  treason ;  but 
Fineux,  the  chief  justice,  replied  that 
the  crime  consisted  in  imagining  the 
death  of  the  king,  and  that  words 
might  be  satisfactory  evidence  of  such 
imagination.  He  next  attempted  to 
refute  the  separate  charges  with  great 
force  of  eloquence,  and  strong  denials 
of  guilt ;  and  then  demanded  that  the 
witnesses  might  be  confronted  with 
him.  They  were  accordingly  brought 
forward— Hopkins  the  prophet,  Dela- 
court  his  confessor,  Perk  his  chan- 
cellor, and  Knevett  his  cousin,  and 
formerly  his  steward.  The  peers 
consulted  in  private  respecting  their 
verdict;  and,  when  the  prisoner  was 
again  introduced,  the  duke  of  Norfolk 
with  tears  informed  him  that  he  had 
been  found  guilty,  and  pronounced 
judgment  of  death.  Buckingham  re- 
plied with  a  firm  voice :  "  My  lord  of 
Norfolk,  you  have  said  to  me  as  a 
traitor  should  be  said  unto;  but  I 
was  never  none.  Still,  my  lords,  I 
nothing  malign  you  for  that  you  have 
done  unto  me.  May  the  eternal  God 
forgive  you  my  death,  as  I  do !  I 
shall  never  sue  to  the  king  for  life: 
howbeit,  he  is  a  gracious  prince,  and 
more  grace  may  come  from  him  than 
I  desire.  I  desire  you,  my  lords,  and 
all  my  fellows,  to  pray  for  me."  He 
persisted  in  his  resolution  not  to 
solicit  mercy,  and  was  beheaded  on 
Tower-hill,  amidst  the  tears  and 


i  Year  boot,  Hilary  Term,  13  Henry  VIII. 
1  f»t.  14  and  15  Henry  VIII.  20.  Kolls, 
Henry  VIII.  p.  105.  Stowe,514.  Hall,  85. 


lamentations  of  the  spectators.  "God 
have  mercy  on  his  soul,"  says  the  re- 
porter of  his  trial,  "  for  he  was  a  most 
wise  and  noble  prince,  and  the  mirror 
of  all  courtesy." ' 

That  the  reader  may  understand 
the  complex  nature  of  the  negotia- 
tions which  are  to  follow,  he  should 
be  aware  that  ever  since  the  king  had 
failed  in  his  attempt  to  procure  tho 
imperial  dignity,  he  had  turned  his 
thoughts  and  ambition  towards  the 
crown  of  France.  That  crown,  so  he 
believed,  was  his  inheritance ;  if  it  had 
been  torn  from  the  brows  of  one  of 
his  predecessors  by  force  of  arms,  why 
might  it  not  be  replaced  by  force  of 
arms  on  his  own  head,  since  it  was  his 
by  hereditary  right?2  For  this,  in- 
deed, he  stood  in  need  of  allies  ;  but 
where  could  he  seek  a  more  powerfal 
and  more  interested  ally  than  in  the 
emperor,  whose  quarrel  was  similar 
to  his  own,  and  who  burned  to  re- 
annex  to  his  dominions  the  ancient 
patrimony  of  the  house  of  Burgundy, 
wrested  from  his  ancestors  by  the 
kings  of  France.  This  subject  had 
been  secretly  discussed  by  Henry  and 
Charles  during  the  late  visit  of  the 
latter  to  his  uncle :  it  had  led  to  the 
proposal  of  a  stricter  union  between 
the  crowns  by  the  marriage  of  the 
emperor  with  the  daughter  of  Henry ; 
and  that  proposal  was  accompanied 
with  the  project  of  a  confederacy  for 
the  joint  prosecution  by  the  two 
monarchs  of  their  hereditary  rights 
at  a  more  convenient  season.  But 
whilst  they  thus  amused  themselves 
with  dreams  of  future  conquests,  the 
flames  of  war  were  unexpectedly  re- 
kindled by  the  ambition  of  Francis, 
in  Spain  and  Italy,  and  the  Nether- 
lands. The  Spaniards  did  not  con- 
ceal their  dissatisfaction  at  the  conduct; 
of  their  young  sovereign.  They  corn- 


Herb.  100.  Elli3,i.l76— 179.  Gait,  App.xxiv. 
2  See  the  correspondence    between  the 
king  and  the  cardinal.— St.  Pap.  i.  36  iS, 


A.D.  1521.]  WAR  BETWEEN  CHARLES  AND  FRANCIS. 


201 


plained  that  their  liberties  had  been 
infringed,  that  taxes  had  been  illegally 
imposed,  and  that  the  government 
had  been  intrusted  to  proud  and 
rapacious  foreigners,  who  had  fol- 
lowed Charles  from  Belgium  to  the 
peninsula.  As  long  as  they  were 
overawed  by  the  presence  of  the 
emperor,  they  confined  themselves 
to  murmurs  and  remonstrances;  the 
moment  that  he  sailed  from  Spain  to 
England,  they  unfurled  the  standard 
of  insurrection.  Francis  suffered  him- 
self to  be  seduced  by  so  favourable 
a-n  opportunity.  He  had  summoned 
Charles  to  do  justice,  according  to 
his  promise,  to  the  injured  queen 
of  Navarre,  and  received  for  answer 
that  Spain  possessed  that  kingdom  in 
virtue  of  an  ecclesiastical  sentence,1 
the  same  title  by  which  France  held 
Narbonne  and  Toulouse,  formerly 
parcels  of  the  kingdom  of  Arragon. 
Let  Francis  restore  those  provinces, 
and  Charles  would  surrender  Navarre. 
But  the  Spanish  revolt  put  an  end 
to  the  negotiation ;  the  French  army 
hurst  over  the  Pyrenees;  and  in 
fifteen  days  Navarre  was  freed  from 
the  yoke  of  Spain.  The  insurgents 
beheld  this  event  with  indifference  ; 
but  the  French  army  no  sooner  ap- 
proached Logrono  in  Castile,  than 
they  rallied  at  the  call  of  their 
country,  repelled  the  invaders,  and 
recovered  Navarre  as  rapidly  as  it 
had  been  lost.  At  the  same  time, 
to  embarrass  his  adversary  on  the 
frontiers  of  Germany,  Francis  had 
encouraged  De  la  Marque,  duke  of 
Bouillon,  to  send  a  defiance  to  his 
sovereign,  and  to  invade  the  Nether- 
lands at  the  head  of  an  army,  which 
had  been  raised  in  France.  The  con- 
tending parties  immediately  appealed 
to  Henry;  both  claimed  his  aid  in 
virtue  of  the  treaty  of  1518.  This 
was  certainly  the  time  for  him  to 


1  This  refers  to  the  general  censure  pub- 
lished by  Julius  against  all  the  adherents  of 
.Louis, 


make  common  cause  with  the  em- 
peror; but  he  was  taken  unawares; 
he  had  made  no  preparations  adequate 
to  the  gigantic  project  which  he  medi- 
tated ;  and  therefore  he  first  exhorted 
each  monarch  to  conclude  a  peace, 
and  then  proposed,  that  before  ho 
should  make  his  election  between 
them,  they  should  appoint  commis- 
sioners to  plead  before  him  or  his 
deputy,  that  he  might  be  able  to 
compromise  the  quarrel,  or  to  de- 
termine who  had  been  the  aggressor. 
Charles  instantly  signified  his  assent. 
He  knew  that  both  the  facts  and  the 
dates  were  in  his  favour ;  and  he  had 
already  convinced  Henry,  by  tho 
exhibition  of  certain  intercepted 
letters,  that  the  invasion  of  both 
Spain  and  the  Netherlands  had  been 
planned  in  the  French  cabinet. 
Francis  wavered,  and  shaped  his 
conduct  by  the  fortune  of  the  war. 
He  gave,  and  recalled,  his  consent. 
But  when  lie  found  that,  on  the 
investment  of  Logrono  by  his  troops, 
the  Spanish  insurgents,  rallying  at 
the  call  of  their  country,  had  driven 
back  the  invaders,  and  reconquered 
Navarre ;  that  the  territory  of  De  la 
Marque  was  overrun  by  an  army  of 
forty  thousand  men  in  the  pay  of 
Charles ;  and  that  in  Italy  the  pope 
had  united  his  forces  with  the  im- 
perialists for  the  purpose  of  driving 
the  French  beyond  the  Alps ;  in  these 
circumstances  he  condescended  to  ac- 
cept the  proffered  mediation,  and  to 
submit  his  pretensions  to  the  equity 
of  the  king  or  his  deputy,  refusing, 
however,  at  the  same  time,  to  be 
bound  by  any  award  which  did  not 
obtain  the  assent  of  the  chancellor, 
his  chief  commissioner.2 

Henry  conferred  the  high  dignity 
of  arbitrator  on  Wolsey,  who  pro- 
ceeded to  Calais  in  great  state,  as  the 
representative  of  his  sovereign.  But 


2  Eym.  xiii.  748.    Fleuranges, 
Muratori,  Annali,  xiv.  165. 


VIII. 


[CHAP.  vn. 


besides  this,  the  ostensible  object  of  [emperor  at  Bruges,  to  which  he  was 


his  journey,  he  had  been  instructed 

secretly  bound    by  his  instructions, 

to  attend  to  the  secret  and  important 

and  warmly  solicited  by  Charles  him- 

projectof the  confederacy  with  Charles, 

self.2    Hitherto  he  had  refused,  that 

for  the  purpose  of  reclaiming  the  he- 

he might  riot  awaken  suspicion  in  tho 

reditary   dominions   of  each    prince 

mind  of  the  French  king;  now,  how- 

from the  grasp  of  the  French  mo- 

ever, on  Wolsey's  complaint  of  the 

narch.    The  imperial  commissioners 

unsatisfactory   answer    returned    by 

were  the  first  to  meet  the  cardinal, 

Gattinara,   the    French    joined    the 

who    improved    the   opportunity   to 

imperial  commissioners  in  a  request 

draw  from  them  the  real  sentiments 

that  he  would  seek  a  personal  inter- 

of their  sovereign.     The   next  day 

view  with   the  emperor,  and  obtain 

arrived   the   French    embassy;    and 

from  him  more  extensive  powers  for 

both   parties   proceeded  to  the  dis- 

his representatives   at  the  congress. 

cussion  of  the  professed  object  of  the 

The    cardinal    gladly    accepted    the 

congress.     The   French   complained 

office,    and    with   a   train    of    more 

that  Charles  had  broken  the  treaty 

than    four    hundred    horsemen  pro- 

of Noyon  in  1516  by  continuing  to 

ceeded  to  Bruges.     By  Charles  he 

hold  possession  of  Navarre,  and  that 

was  received  with  the  most  marked 

he  refused  to  do  homage  for  Flanders 

attention.    Thirteen  days  were  spent 

and  Artois,  fiefs  of  the  French  crown. 

in  public  feasting  and  private  con- 

The Imperialists  maintained  that  the 

sultation  ;  and  before  his  departure 

treaty  of  Noyon  had  been  extorted 

the  more  important  questions  were 

from  Charles  by  fraud  and  violence, 

settled  respecting  the  intended  mar- 

and retorted  on  their  adversaries  the 

riage,  the  voyage  of  Charles  by  sea  to 

late  invasion  of  Spain,  and  the  clan- 

England and  Spain,  and  the  time  and 

destine  support  which  had  been  given 

manner  in  which  he  and  Henry  should 

to  the  duke  of  Bouillon.    Though  the 

conjointly  invade  France.    On  his  re- 

cardinal laboured  to  soothe  the  irri- 

turn, the  conferences  were  resumed  ; 

tation,  and  moderate  the  demands  of 

and  the  air  of  impartiality  with  which 

the  litigants,  they  grew  daily  more 

the  cardinal  listened  to  every  repre- 

warm  and   obstinate  ;   and   at    last, 

sentation,  joined   to   the   zeal  with 

Gattinara,   the   imperial   chancellor, 

which  he  laboured  to  .accommodate 

declared    that   it   was   beneath   the 

every  difference,  lulled  the  jealousy 

dignity  of  his  master  to  assent  to 

of  the  French  envoys,  and  obtained 

any   terms   till   he    had    previously 

their  unqualified   approbation.    His 

received   satisfaction    from    Francis, 

first  attempt  was  to  establish  peace 

and   that   he   was   confined   by  his 

between    the   two   powers  ;   but  no 

instructions   to   the   mere  exposure 

reasoning   could    subdue    their   ob- 

of the  injuries  which   the  emperor 

stinacy  ;    and    their   demands   were 

had  received,  and  the  demand  of  the 

reciprocally  regulated  not  by  justice, 

aid  to  which  the  king  of  England 

but  by  the  oscillating  success  of  the 

was  bound  by  the  late  treaty.1 

war.     The   imperialists    had    taken 

This  declaration  afforded,  perhaps 

Mouzon,  and   formed   the   siege   of 

was  meant  to  afford,  the  cardinal  a 

Mezieres  ;    but   they  retired  at  the 

pretext   for  paying  a  visit   to   the 

approach   of    Francis,   who    in    his 

i  Peter  Mart.  373,  420,  426.    Herb.  43. 

voua  vouloir  trouver  a  Bruges,   dy- 

Notices  des  MSS.  du  Hoi,  ii  60. 

manche  proohain  nous  ferons  plus  ex 

ung  jour,  vous   3t  uioi  ensemble,   que  n» 

8  St.  Pap.  29,  37,  39,  56.    Je  voua  prie 

feroient  raes  ambassadeurs  en  ung  rnoia.  — 

sur  teas  les  plaisirs  que  me  vouldriez  faire 

Emperor  to  Wolsey,  in  Gait,  App.  ixii. 

A.D.  1521.] 


AMBITION  OF  \VOLSEY. 


203 


turn  was  checked  in  the  pursuit  by 
the  gallantry  and  address  of  the  count 
of  Nassau.  The  cardinal  at  length 
drew  up  a  project  of  truce,  which 
compelled  the  belligerents  to  recall 
their  armies  into  their  respective 
territories,  and  referred  the  fate  of 
the  fortresses  which  had  been  taken 
to  the  arbitration  of  Henry.  It  was 
carried  to  the  emperor  by  the  lord  St. 
John  and  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  ;  to  the 
king  of  France  by  the  earl  of  Wor- 
cester and  the  bishop  of  Ely.  The 
latter,  after  a  long  resistance,  suffered 
his  consent  to  be  wrung  from  him  by 
importunity.  The  former  was  in- 
exorable ;  Fontarabia  had  been  lately 
taken  by  the  admiral  Bonnivet;  and 
Charles  obstinately  demanded  its 
restoration,  which  Francis  as  obsti- 
nately refused.  At  last  the  cardinal, 
in  despair  of  an  accommodation, 
pronounced  his  final  judgment,  that 
Francis  had  been  the  aggressor  in  the 
war,  and  that  Henry  was  bound  by 
treaty  to  aid  his  imperial  ally.1  The 
result  of  the  interview  at  Bruges  was 
now  disclosed,  by  the  conclusion  of  a 
league  at  Calais,  in  which  the  con- 
tracting parties  were  the  pope,  the 
emperor,  and  the  king  of  England. 
It  was  agreed,  that  in  order  to  restrain 
the  ambition  of  Francis,  and  to  further 
the  intended  expedition  against  the 
Turks,  each  of  these  powers  should 
in  the  spring  of  the  year  1523  invade 
the  French  territories  with  a  powerful 
army ;  that,  if  Francis  did  iiot  con- 
clude a  peace  with  the  emperor, 
Henry  should  declare  war  against 
him  on  the  arrival  of  Charles  in 
England;  and  that  for  the  common 
good  of  Christendom  the  projected 
marriage  between  the  dauphin  and 
Mary,  the  daughter  of  Henry,  should 
be  set  aside  for  the  more  beneficial 


i  That  aid  by  the  treaty  of  1518  was  6,000 
archers.  Orders  were  issued  to  levy  that 
number,  but  too  late  for  them  to  take  part 
in  the  campaign. — St.  Pap.  31 — 34. 


marriage  of  the  same  princess  with 
the  emperor.  Before  the  signature 
of  this  treaty  Milan  had  been  re- 
covered by  the  combined  forces  in 
Italy  ;  shortly  afterwards  Tournay 
surrendered  to  the  arms  of  the  im- 
perialists; and  Francis  was  compelled 
to  content  himself  with  the  reduction 
of  the  unimportant  fortresses  of  Hes- 
din  and  Bouchain.3 

The  deliverance  of  Milan  from  the 
yoke  of  France  diffused  the  most  ex- 
travagant joy  throughout  the  Italian 
states.  The  pontiff  ordered  the  event 
to  be  celebrated  with  thanksgivings 
and  games,  hastened  to  Rome,  that  he 
might  enjoy  the  triumph  of  his  policy 
and  arms,  and  entered  his  capital  in 
high  spirits,  and  apparently  in  per- 
fect health.  Yet  a  sudden  indispo- 
sition prevented  him  from  attending 
a  consistory,  which  he  had  summoned; 
and  in  a  few  days,  it  was  known  that 
he  was  dead.3  The  news  travelled 
with  expedition  to  England,  and 
Wolsey  immediately  extended  his 
views  to  the  papal  throne.  The  idea 
of  seating  that  minister  in  the  chair 
of  St.  Peter  was  not  new;  it  had 
already  formed  the  subject  of  several 
conferences  between  the  king,  the 
emperor,  and  the  cardinal.  By  Henry 
it  had  long  been  ardently  desired; 
Charles,  through  policy  or  inclination, 
promised  his  aid ;  and  Wolsey,  with  a 
decent  affectation  of  humility,  con- 
sented to  place  his  shoulders  under 
the  burden.  He  acknowledged  his 
un worthiness  and  incapacity ;  it  had 
always  been  the  first  wish  of  his  heart 
to  live  and  die  in  the  service  of  his 
native  sovereign;  yet  he  felt  it  his 
duty  to  submit  to  the  superior  judg- 
ment of  their  imperial  and  royal  ma- 
jesties; and  to  sacrifice,  since  they 
required  it,  his  own  happiness  to  the 


a  Chron.  Catal.  131—136.  Belcaire,  xiv. 
Guicciard.  981.  Muratori,  xiv.  271.  HaL. 
86—88,  Notices  des  MS8.  ii.  60—81. 

3  Muratori,  xiv.  173. 


HEN11Y  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vii. 


repose  "  and  welfare  of  Christendom."1 
Yet  on  the  intelligence  of  Leo's  death, 
all  this  reluctance  vanished;  he  did 
•not  merely  submit;  he  despatched 
messengers  to  remind  the  emperor  of 
hispromise,  and  secretary  Pace  to  sound 
the  disposition  of  the  conclave.  In 
that  assembly  Giulio  de'  Medici  pos- 
sessed a  majority  of  suffrages,  suffi- 
cient indeed  to  exclude  a  rival,  but 
Jiot  to  secure  his  own  election ;  dis- 
appointed himself,  he  disappointed  in 
his  turn  the  expectations  of  the  car- 
dinals Farnese,  Colonna,  andTVolsey; 
and  unexpectedly  proposed  to  his  col- 
leagues the  cardinal  Adrian,  a  native 
of  Utrecht,  who  from  the  university 
of  Louvain  had  been  selected  as  pre- 
ceptor to  Charles,  had  been  after- 
wards sent  into  honourable  exile  by 
the  intrigues  of  the  favourite  Chie- 
vres,  and  was  at  that  moment  bishop 
of  Tortosa,  and  viceroy  of  Spain. 
'Cajetan,  who  admired  the  writings, 
and  was  acquainted  with  the  virtues 
of  the  Belgian,  seconded  the  motion  of 
Giulio ;  the  election  of  Adrian,  though 
a  foreigner,  and  personally  unknown, 
was  carried  by  acclamation ;  and 
within  nine  years  from  the  time  when 
Julius  drove  the  barbarians  out  of 
Italy,  a  barbarian  was  seated  as  his 
successor  on  the  papal  throne.2  The 
envoy  of  Wolsey  was  instructed  to 
congratulate  the  new  pope  on  his 
accession,  and  to  obtain  for  his  em- 
ployer the  prolongation  of  his  legatine 
authority. 

Francis,  who  was  aware  of  the 
league  which  had  been  formed  against 
him,  employed  the  winter  in  fruitless 
attempts  to  recover  the  friendship  of 
the  king  of  England.  He  first  sought 
to  win  him  by  compliments  and 
flattery,  and  even  condescended  to 
beg  that  if  he  would  not  prove  a 
friend,  at  least  he  would  not  be  an 


opponent;  he  next  demanded  tlie 
succours  to  which  he  was  entitled 
by  treaty,  and  postponed  the  Pa5"- 
ment  of  the  annual  pension ;  and  at 
length,  as  an  indemnity  to  himself, 
laid  an  embargo  on  the  English  ship- 
ping in  his  ports,  and  seized  all  the 
property  of  the  English  merchants, 
In  retaliation  Henry  confined  the 
French  ambassador  to  his  house, 
ordered  all  Frenchmen  in  London  to 
be  taken  into  custody,  and  at  length 
sent  to  Francis  a  defiance  by  Claren- 
ceaux  king-at-arins.3  The  emperor 
himself,  as  was  stipulated  in  tho 
treaty  of  Bruges,  landed  at  Dover, 
and  was  accompanied  by  the  king 
through  Canterbury,  London,  and 
Winchester,  to  Southampton.  Every 
day  was  marked  by  some  pageant  or 
entertainment;  but  while  the  two 
princes  appeared  intent  on  nothing 
but  their  pleasures,  the  ministers  were 
busily  employed  in  concluding  treaties 
and  framing  plans  of  co-operation. 
It  was  agreed  that  each  power  should 
make  war  on  Francis  with  forty 
thousand  men;  that  Charles  should 
indemnify  Henry  for  all  the  moneys 
which  might  be  withheld  from  him  in 
consequence  of  this  treaty ;  that  the 
king  should  not  give  his  daughter  in 
marriage,  nor  the  emperor  marry  any 
other  person,  before  the  princess  Mary 
was  of  mature  age;  that  when  she 
had  completed  her  twelfth  year 
they  should  be  married  by  proxy; 
and  that,  if  either  party  violated  this 
engagement,  the  defaulter  should  for- 
feit the  sum  of  five  hundred  thousand 
crowns.  At  Southampton  the  em- 
peror took  leave  of  the  king,  and 
embarked  on  board  his  fleet  of  one 
hundred  and  eighty  sail,  the  command 
of  which,  in  compliment  to  his  uncle, 
he  had  given  to  the  earl  of  Surrey, 
lord  admiral  of  England.4 


1  See  the  cardinal's  letters  on  this  subject 
in  Fiddes,  Col.  66. 

2  Pallavicino,  1.  ii.  c.  2.    MS.  Vitell.  B.  5, 


3  Fiddes,  252—254.  Rym.  xiii.  764  H:ilL 
92,  94. 

*  Herb.  115,  119.  Rutland  Papers,  59— 
100.  Godwin,  22,  23.  By  the  tr?aty 


A.D.  1522.] 


KETItEAT  OP  THE  ENGLISH. 


205 


That  nobleman  had  succeeded  to' 
the  earl  of  Kildare  in  the  government 
of  Ireland,  where  by  his  generosity 
he  won  the  esteem,  while  by  his  acti- 
vity he  repressed  the  disorders,  of  the 
natives.  Bub  the  reputation  which 
he  had  acquired  by  his  conduct  in  the 
Held  of  Flodden  induced  the  king  to 
recall  him  to  England,  that  he  might 
assume  the  command  of  the  army 
destined  for  the  invasion  of  France. 
That  army,  however,  existed  only 
upon  paper ;  the  money  necessary  for 
its  support  was  yet  to  be  raised ;  and 
to  supply  these  deficiencies  required 
all  the  art  ofWolsey,  aided  by  the 
despotic  authority  of  the  king.  Com- 
missioners were  despatched  into  the 
different  shires,  with  instructions  to 
inquire  what  was  the  annual  rent  of 
the  lands  and  houses  in  each  town- 
ship, what  the  names  of  the  owners 
and  occupiers,  and  what  the  value  of 
each  man's  nioveable  property;  and 
moreover,  to  array  in  the  maritime 
counties,  under  the  pretext  of  an 
apprehended  invasion,  all  men  be- 
tween the  age  of  sixteen  and  sixty, 
and  to  enrol  their  names,  and  the 
names  of  the  lords  whose  tenants 
they  were.1  As  a  temporary  expe- 
dient, a  loan  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds  was  exacted  from  the  mer- 
chants of  London ;  and  after  a  decent 
respite,  the  cardinal,  in  quality  of 
royal  commissioner,  called  the  citizens 
before  him,  and  required  that  every 
individual  supposed  to  be  worth  one 
hundred  pounds  should  certify  upon 
oath  the  real  value  of  his  property. 
They  remonstrated  that  to  many  men 
"  their  credit  was  better  than  their 
substance;"  and  the  cardinal,  relax- 
ing from  the  rigour  of  his  first  de- 


mand, consented  to  accept  their  re- 
spective returns  in  writing,  which  he 
promised  should  not  on  any  pretext 
be  afterwards  divulged.  "With  this 
preparatory  knowledge  he  was  enabled 
to  raise  men,  and  supply  himself  with 
money  as  it  was  wanted.  Precepts 
under  the  great  seal  were  issued  at  his 
discretion,  ordering  some  persons  to 
levy  a  certain  number  of  men  among 
their  tenants,  and  others  to  advance 
to  the  king  a  certain  sum  of  money, 
which  generally  amounted  to  a  tenth 
from  the  laity,  and  a  fourth  from 
the  clergy.  It  was,  however,  pro- 
mised at  the  same  time,  that  the 
lenders  should  be  indemnified  from 
the  first  subsidy  to  be  granted  by 
parliament.2 

At  length  the  earl  mustered  his 
army  under  the  walls  of  Calais,  and 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  twelve- 
thousand  men  paid  by  the  king,  of 
four  thousand  volunteers,  and  of  one 
thousand  German  and  Spanish  horse. 
With  this  force  he  marched  through 
the  Boulonnois  and  Artois  into  the 
vicinity  of  Amiens,  carefully  avoid- 
ing the  fortified  towns,  and  devoting 
to  the  flames  every  house  and  village 
which  fell  in  his  way ;  while  the 
French,  who  had  been  forbidden  to 
risk  an  engagement,  hovered,  in  small 
bodies,  round  the  invaders,  some- 
times checking  their  progress,  and  at 
other  times  intercepting  the  strag- 
glers. But  the  season  proved  the 
most  formidable  enemy.  Cold  and 
rain  introduced  a  dysentery  into  the 
camp ;  the  foreigners  hastily  retired  to- 
Bethune,  and  the  earl  led  back  his 
followers  to  Calais.  It  was  an  ex- 
pedition which  reflected  little  lustra 
on  the  English  arms;  but  it  en- 


of  Bruges,  Henry  was  not  to  declare 
against  Francis  till  the  emperor  had  visited 
him  in  England.  To  hasten  the  declaration 
Charles  announced  his  intention  of  coming 
on  the  10th  of  April ;  and  Wolsey  thinking 
that  day  too  early,  suggests  among  other 
reasons  for  delay,  "then  shulde  yoor  grace 
and  heboenfourcedtelabourin  Palme  Sun- 


daye  weke,  being  named  Ebdomeda  sancta, 
which  were  not  convenient  for  princes,  no 
for  meaner  personnages,  but  rather  to  be 
occupied  in  praier  and  contemplation  ?" — 
State  Pap.  i.  95. 

'  Stowe,  316.    Rym.  770. 

2  Hall,  101,  102,  105.  Herb.  121,  122 
Fiddes,  Collect  92. 


206 


HEN  BY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vii. 


riched  the  adventurers,  and  inflicted 
a  severe  injury  on  the  unfortunate 
inhabitants. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  summer, 
Francis,  that  he  might  divert  the 
attention  of  the  king,  sought  to  raise 
up  enemies  to  Henry  both  in  Ireland 
and  Scotland.  1.  In  Ireland  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  chief  of  the 
house  of  Desmond,  a  family  which 
still  refused  to  acknowledge  more  than 
a  nominal  dependence  on  the  English 
crown ;  and  the  earl  of  that  name, 
seduced  by  the  hopes  which  were 
held  out  to  him,  signed  a  treaty  by 
which,  in  return  for  an  annual  pen- 
sion, he  engaged  to  join  the  French 
army  as  soon  as  it  should  land  in 
Ireland,  and  never  to  lay  down 
his  arms  till  he  had  conquered  a 
portion  of  the  island  for  himself,  and 
the  remainder  for  Richard  de  la  Pole, 
the  representative  of  the  house  of 
York.  But  Francis  had  obtained  his 
object,  by  the  very  alarm  which  his 
treaty  created.  He  forgot  his  engage- 
ment to  Desmond ;  the  army  was 
never  sent,  the  pension  never  paid ; 
and  the  misguided  earl  had  full  lei- 
sure to  lament  the  imprudence  with 
which  he  had  listened  to  the  sugges- 
tions and  promises  of  his  deceitful 
ally.1  2.  In  Scotland  Francis  found  a 
more  able  and  equally  willing  asso- 
ciate in  the  duke  of  Albany.  That 
prince  had  returned  to  assume  the 
government  at  the  invitation  of  Mar- 
garet, the  queen  dowager,  who  had 
quarrelled  with  her  husband  on  ac- 
count of  his  amours,  and  with  her 
brother  on  account  of  his  parsimony. 
En  February  the  truce  between  the 
two  nations  expired;  and  every  at- 
tempt to  renew  it  failed,  through  the 
obstinacy  of  Albany,  who  sought  to 
include  the  French,  and  of  Henry, 
who  insisted  on  the  immediate  de- 
parture of  the  duke  himself  from 
Scotland.  War  succeeded  of  course; 


the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  was  ordered 
to  array  the  men  of  the  northern 
counties  ;  and  Albany,  having  re- 
ceived supplies  and  instructions  from 
Francis,  assembled  the  Scottish  army 
at  Annan.  Thence  he  marched  at 
the  head,  it  is  said,  of  eighty  thousand 
men,  with  forty-five  pieces  of  brass 
ordnance ;  while  the  English  general, 
without  men  or  money,  had  no  force 
to  oppose  to  the  invaders.  But  the 
storm  was  dispersed  by  the  address  of 
the  lord  Dacre,  warden  of  the  western 
marches.  He  assumed  a  tone  of  bold 
defiance;  boasted  of  the  numerous 
army  hastening  to  his  aid ;  alluded  to 
the  disaster  which  had  befallen  the 
Scots  at  Flodden  Field;  and,  after 
some  debate,  granted  to  the  pusilla- 
nimous duke  a  month's  abstinence 
from  war,  that  he  might  have  time  to 
solicit  peace  from  the  indulgence  of 
Henry.  Albany  engaged  to  disband 
his  army ;  Dacre  to  forbid  the  advance 
of  the  English  forces,  which  instead 
of  being  on  their  march,  were  not  in 
reality  assembled.  Wolsey,  amazed 
at  the  result,  characterized  the  regent 
in  one  of  his  letters  to  Henry  as  "  a 
coward  and  a  fool." 2 

The  minister's  chief  embarrassment 
at  this  period  arose  from  the  exhausted 
state  of  the  treasury.  Immense  sums 
had  been  wastefully  lavished  in  enter- 
tainments and  presents  to  foreign 
princes:  the  king's  annual  pension 
was  no  longer  paid  by  Francis,  nor 
could  it  be  expected  from  Charles 
during  the  war;  and  policy  forbade 
him  to  have  recourse  to  a  forced  loan 
after  the  experiment  of  the  last  sum- 
mer. Henry,  following  the  example 
of  his  father,  had  governed  during 
eight  years  without  the  aid  of  the 
great  council  of  the  nation ;  but  his 
necessities  now  compelled  him  to  sum- 
mon a  parliament  to  meet  at  the 
Black  Friars ;  and  Sir  Thomas  More, 
a  member  of  the  council,  was,  by  the 


i  Da  Chesne,  1005.     St.  Pap.  ii   198,  not. 
3  Bee    the    account    compiled   irom   the 


original  letters  by  Mr.  Pinkerton,  i.   109- 


A  D.  1523.] 


MESSAGE  TO  THE  COMMONS. 


207 


influence  of  the  court,  chosen  speaker 
of  the  commons.  After  some  days  the 
cardinal  carried  to  that  house  a  royal 
message,  showing  from  the  conduct 
of  Francis  tkat  the  war  was  just  and 
necessary  ;  estimating  the  expenses 
of  the  intended  armament  at  eight 
hundred  thousand  pounds,  and  pro- 
posing to  raise  that  sum  by  a  pro- 
perty tax  of  twenty  per  cent.  The 
commons,  astonished  at  this  unpre- 
cedented demand,  preserved  the  most 
obstinate  silence.  It  was  in  vain  that 
Wolsey  called  on  different  members  by 
name,  and  asked  them  for  a  reason- 
able answer.  At  length  he  exclaimed : 
"  Masters,  unless  it  be  the  manner  of 
your  house  (as  very  likely  it  may)  by 
your  speaker  only  in  such  cases  to  ex- 
press your  mind,  here  is  without  doubt 
a  most  marvellous  silence."  Sir  Thomas 
More,  bending  the  knee,  replied  that 
they  felt  abashed  in  the  presence  of 
so  great  a  personage ;  that  according 
to  the  ancient  liberties  of  the  house, 
they  were  not  bound  to  return  an 
answer ;  and  that  he  as  speaker  could 
make  no  reply  until  he  had  received 
their  instructions.1  Wolsey  retired 
m  discontent;  the  debate  was  ad- 
journed ironi  day  to  day  ;  and  a  depu- 
tation was  appointed  to  solicit  a  dimi- 
nution of  the  demand.  The  cardinal 
again  repaired  to  the  house,  answered 
the  arguments  which  had  been  em- 
ployed by  the  leaders  of  the  oppo- 
sition; and  begged  that  they  would 
reason  with  him  on  the  subject. 
They  replied,  that  they  would  hear 
whatever  he  might  say,  but  would 


reason  only  among  themselves.  After 
his  departure  they  agreed  to  a  tax 
upon  every  kind  of  property,  of  five 
per  cent,  for  two  years,  to  be  con- 
tinued during  the  third  year  on  fees, 
pension?,  and  rents  of  land,  and  during 
the  fourth  year  on  moveables  only. 
The  king  in  return  published  a 
general  pardon.2 

The  grant  required  of  the  clergy 
amounted  to  fifty  per  cent,  on  the 
yearly  income  of  their  benefices ;  and 
as  the  demand  was  higher  than  that 
made  on  the  laity,  so  was  their  resist- 
ance proportionably  more  obstinate. 
The  convocations  of  the  two  pro- 
vinces had  assembled  after  the  usual 
manner;  when  Wolsey,  conceiving 
that  he  should  possess  more  influence 
in  an  assembly  under  his  own  imme- 
diate control,  summoned  them  both, 
by  his  legatine  authority,  to  meet 
him  in  a  national  synod  in  the  abbey 
of  Westminster.  The  proctors,  how- 
ever, argued,  that  as  the  powers  which 
they  held  were  confined  to  grants  to 
be  made  in  convocation,  no  acts  which 
they  might  perform  in  the  synod  could 
legally  bind  their  constituents;  and 
the  cardinal  reluctantly  suffered  them 
to  depart,  and  to  vote  their  money 
according  to  the  ancient  method. 
The  convocation  of  his  own  province 
awaited  the  determination  of  the  con- 
vocation of  Canterbury.  In  the  lower 
house  the  opposition  was  led  by  a 
popular  preacher  of  the  name  of 
Phillips,  whose  silence  was  at  length 
purchased  by  the  policy  of  the  court 
in  the  higher,  the  bishops  of  Win- 


1  The  cardinal  afterwards  sent  for  the 
speaker.  "  Would  to  God,"  said  he,  "  Mas- 
ter More,  you  had  been  at  Rome,  when  I 
made  you  speaker."  "  Your  grace  not 
offended,"  he  replied,  "so  would  I  too,  my 
lord." — More' s  Life  of  Sir  T.  More,  p.  61  ; 
Roper's,  11 ;  Stapleton's,  285.  If  this  be 
true,  Wolsey  soon  forgot  the  offence,  for  at 
the  dissolution  of  parliament,  be  wrote  to 
the  king  for  the  usual  reward  of  2001.  to 
More,  as  speaker,  because  "  no  man  could 
better  deserve  the  same  than  he  had  done ;" 
«dding,  "1  am  the  rather  moved  to  put 


your  highness  in  remembrance  thereof, 
because  he  is  not  the  most  ready  to  speake 
and  solicite  his  own  cause." — State  Papers, 
i.  124. 

2  The  five  northern  counties,  Northum- 
berland, Cumberland,  Durham,  VVestmjre- 
land,  and  Cnester,  were  exempt  from  the 
tux,  on  account  of  the  Scottish  war;  the 
Cinque  Ports  in  virtue  of  their  charter,  and 
Ludlow  iu  consequence  of  a  grant  from 
Edward  IV.,  confirmed  by  Henry  VII.  and 
Henry  VIII.— Holla,  87,  89. 


208 


HENRY  VIII. 


[ciiAr.  vii. 


ctester  and  Rochester  persisted  in 
animating  the  prelates  to  resist  so 
exorbitant  a  demand.  Four  months 
passed  in  this  manner ;  at  last  a  com- 
promise was  made ;  the  clergy  voted 
the  amount,  the  cardinal  consented 
that  it  should  be  levied  in  five  years, 
at  ten  per  cent,  each  year.  He  held, 
however,  his  legatine  council,  but 
more  for  parade  than  utility,  and  to 
cover  the  disgrace  of  the  defeat  which 
he  had  suffered  in  the  first  attempt.1 

The  money  thus  extorted  from  the 
laity  and  clergy  was  lavishly  expended 
in  repelling  an  invasion  of  the  Scots, 
in  supporting  an  expedition  into 
Prance,  and  in  furnishing  aid  to  the 
allies  in  Italy.  1.  The  duke  of  Albany, 
after  his  inglorious  negotiation  with 
Lord  Dacre,  had  left  Scotland ;  but  the 
principal  lords  remained  constant  in 
their  attachment  to  Prance,  and  im- 
patiently expected  his  return  with 
supplies  of  men  and  money.  To 
Henry,  meditating  a  second  expedi- 
tion to  the  continent,  it  was  of  im- 
portance to  provide  for  the  defence  of 
his  northern  frontier.  He  sought  a 
reconciliation  with  his  sister  Queen 
Margaret,  that  he  might  set  her  up 
in  opposition  to  Albany;  and  gave 
the  chief  command  in  the  north  to 
the  earl  of  Surrey,  son  to  the  victor 
of  Plodden  Pield,  with  instructions  to 
purchase  the  services  of  the  Scottish 
lords  with  money,  and  to  invade  and 


lay  waste  the  Scottish  borders,  that 
they  might  be  incapable  of  supplying 
provisions  to  a  hostile  army.  Mar- 
garet gladly  accepted  the  overture, 
and  consented  to  conduct  her  son 
(he  was  only  in  his  twelfth  year)  to 
the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  and  to 
announce  by  proclamation  that  he 
had  assumed  the  government,  pro- 
vided the  English  general  would 
march  a  strong  force  to  her  support. 
Surrey  repeatedly  entered  the  marches, 
spread  around  the  devastation  of  war, 
and  at  last  reduced  to  ashes  the  large 
town  of  Jedburgh.a  But  on  that 
very  day  Albany  landed  at  Dum- 
barton with  two  thousand  soldiers, 
and  a  great  quantity  of  stores  and 
ammunition.3  The  projects  of  Mar- 
garet were  instantly  crushed ;  at  the 
call  of  the  parliament  the  whole  nation 
rose  in  arms;  and  on  the  Burrow 
muir  the  regent  saw  above  sixty  thou- 
sand men  arrayed  round  his  standard. 
When  Surrey  considered  the  numbers 
of  the  enemy  and  the  paucity  of  his 
own  followers,  he  trembled  for  the 
result ;  by  repeated  letters  he  im- 
portuned the  council  for  reinforce- 
ments ;  to  the  king  he  wrote  to  send 
to  the  camp  all  the  young  lords,  who 
wasted  their  time  at  court  in  cards, 
dice,  and  balls,  and  recommended  his 
family  to  the  royal  notice,  if  it  should 
be  his  lot  to  fall  in  the  approaching 
battle.*  His  hopes  were  however 


1  Wilk.  Cou.  iii.  701.    Strype,  i.  49. 

2  Of  the  havoc  occasioned  by  these  in- 
roads, the  reader  may  judge  from  a  letter  to 
the  cardinal,  dated  August  31,  in  this  year. 
*'  The  earl  of  Surrey  hath  so  devasted  and 
destroyed  all  Tweedale    and  March,  that 
there  is  left  neither  house,  fortress,  village, 
tree,  cattle,  corn,  or  other  succour  for  man: 
insomuch  that  some  of  the  people  that  fled 
from  the  same,  afterwards  returning  and 
finding  no  sustenance,  were  compelled  to 
come  unto  England  begging  bread,  which 
oftentimes  when  they  do  eat,  they  die  incon- 
tinently for  the  hunger  passed.     And  with 
no    imprisonment,  cutting  off  their  ears, 
burning  them  in  their  faces,  or  otherwise, 
can  be  kept  away." — Apud  Fiddes,  Collect. 
p.  Ill ;  also  Ellis,  i.  214. 

3  Most  writers  make    them    amount  to 


twice  the  number,  but  Lord  Dacre  assures 
the  earl  of  Surrey,  on  the  authority  of  his 
spy,  a  credible  person  who  was  at  Dumbar- 
ton when  Albany  arrived,  and  who  followed 
him  to  Edinburgh,  that  the  armament  con- 
sisted of  three  large  ships  and  thirty  small 
ongs,  bringing  2,000  men,  one  hundred  of 
whom  were  gens  d'armes,  and  four  "  double 
canons,  fawcons,  hag-bushes,  hand-gonnea. 
cross-bowes,  gonne-stones  of  stone,  and 
gonne-powder." 

4  Among  other  things,  he  requested  to 
have  a  body  of  4,000  Germans  attached  to 
his  army,  for  two  purposes  :  1.  that  they 
might  teach  the  English  to  observe  the 
order  of  battle  ;  2.  that  he  might  be  able  to 
oppose  pikemen  to  pikemen. — Cal.  B.  vi. 
238.  The  reader  will  recollect  that  they 
were  the  Scottish  pikemen  who  bore  dowa 
the  right  wing  in  the  battle  of  Flodden. 


.  1523.] 


ALBANY  11ETIEES  TO  FRANCE. 


209 


raised  by  the  successive  arrival  of 
troops,  that  swelled  his  army  from 
nine  to  fifty  thousand  men;  and 
having  supplied  Wark,  Norham,  and 
Berwick  with  competent  garrisons, 
he  hastened  to  Belford,  to  watch  the 
motions  of  the  regent.  That  leader 
fixed  his  head-quarters  at  Eccles, 
and  undertook  the  siege  of  "Wark. 
Having  battered  the  walls  with  his 
artillery,  he  ordered  the  Frenchmen 
to  storm  the  breach;  they  obtained 
possession  of  the  outer  court,  and 
penetrated  into  the  interior  ward, 
but  after  a  long  struggle  were  expelled 
by  the  exertions  of  the  garrison.  The 
next  day  the  English  were  in  motion ; 
Albany  trembled  at  the  name  of  the 
hero  of  Flodden  Field ;  and  at  mid- 
night the  Scottish  army  retired  in 
confusion  to  Lauder  amidst  a  heavy 
fall  of  snow.  "Undoubtedly,"  ex- 
claims Surrey  in  his  despatch  to  the 
king,  "  there  was  never  man  departed 
with  more  shame  or  more  fear,  than 
the  duke  has  done  to-day."1  The 
result  of  this  expedition,  combined 
with  the  remembrance  of  the  last, 
overturned  the  authority  of  Albany  ; 
and  after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to 
retain  the  regency,  he  sailed  for 
France,  never  more  to  set  foot  in 
Scotland.  His  departure  enabled 
Margaret  to  resume  the  ascendancy, 
and  proclaim  her  son;  but  her  im- 
perious temper,  and  scandalous  fami- 
liarity with  Henry  Sftuart,  the  son  of 
Lord  Evandale,  alienated  her  friends ; 
her  application  to  Francis  and  Albany 
was  received  with  indifference;  and 
her  husband,  the  earl  of  Angus,  under 
the  protection  of  Henry,  took  upon 
himself  the  office  of  regent.  This 
revolution  led  to  more  friendly  rela- 
tions between  the  two  kingdoms,  with 

1  Cal.  B.  vi.  306.    Ellis,  i.  232. 

2  Fiddes,  318—324.    Pinkerlon,  ii.  13. 

3  Henry  affected  to  consider  this  attempt 
A3  a  just  retaliation  for  the  alliance  between 
Francis  and  Desmond.    But  privately  he 

4 


the  hope  of  obtaining  aid  from  France 
the  war  terminated ;  truce  succeeded 
to  truce;  and  the  borders  of  both 
countries  enjoyed  a  long  cessation 
from  hostilities  during  eighteen  years.2 
2.  When  Francis  supplied  Albany 
with  troops  and  money,  he  had  flat- 
tered himself  that  the  Scottish  inva- 
sion would  detain  the  English  fc2  res  at 
home,  and  afford  him  leisure  to  pursue 
his  intended  expedition  into  Italy, 
where  of  all  his  former  conquests  he 
retained  only  the  citadel  of  Cremona. 
To  oppose  him,  a  league  for  the 
defence  of  Lombardy  had  been  con- 
cluded between  the  emperor,  his  bro- 
ther Ferdinand,  archduke  of  Austria, 
the  Venetians,  and  Francesco  Sforza, 
the  reigning  duke  of  Milan ;  and  to 
this  confederacy  had  afterwards  ac- 
ceded the  pope,  the  kings  of  England 
and  Hungary,  and  the  republics  of 
Florence,  Sienna,  and  Genoa.  His 
open  enemies  the  French  king  feared 
not  to  oppose  with  open  force;  but 
he  was  ignorant  of  the  dark  and 
dangerous  conspiracy  which  from 
the  heart  of  his  dominions  threat- 
ened to  precipitate  him  from  the 
throne,  and  to  dismember  the  mon- 
archy. Among  the  French  nobility 
no  one  was  more  illustrious  by  birth, 
more  distinguished  by  talent,  or  more 
formidable  by  wealth  and  connec- 
tions, than  Charles,  duke  of  Bourbon, 
constable  of  the  kingdom.  Francis 
had,  however,  wounded  his  feelings 
by  affronts;  Louise,  the  mother  of 
Francis,  by  claiming  the  lands  which 
he  held  in  right  of  his  deceased  wife : 
and  the  duke,  prompted  by  resent- 
ment, lent  a  willing  ear  to  the  sug- 
gestions of  the  lord  of  Beaurain  and 
Sir  John  Russell,  secret  envoys  from 
Charles  and  Henry.3  It  was  deter- 


required,  as  king  of  France,  an  oath  ot 
fealty,  and  the  bond  of  homage  from  Bour- 
bon as  his  vassal.  After  many  evasions, 
Bourbon  yielded  to  the  first,  but  refused 
the  latter  as  contrary  to  the  terms  ot  the 
alliance.— See  Fiddes  and  Turner. 
P 


HEiNRY  Till 


[  CHAP.  vil. 


mined  that  as  soon  as  Francis  should 
have  crossed  the  Alps,  the  English 
should  invade  Picardy,  the  Germans 
in  the  pay  of  England,  Burgundy, 
and  the  Spaniards,  Guienne,  and  that 
at  the  same  moment  Bourbon  should 
unfurl  his  standard  in  the  centre  of 
the  kingdom,  and  call  around  him  the 
friends  of  his  family,  whom  he  num- 
bered at  two  hundred  gentlemen  with 
iheir  retainers.  Confident  that  Francis 
could  never  make  head  against  so 
formidable  an  alliance,  each  of  the 
contracting  parties  indulged  in  the 
most  magnificent  but  delusive  anti- 
cipations. Henry  already  felt  the 
crown  of  France  fixed  on  his  own  head; 
Charles  saw  himself  in  possession  of 
Burgundy,  the  patrimony  of  his  fore- 
fathers ;  and  Bourbon  already  go- 
verned his  duchy  and  the  county  of 
Provence  as  a  sovereign  prince.  The 
last,  that  he  might  not  accompany  the 
French  army  to  Italy,  feigned  indis- 
position, and  was  visited  in  his  bed  by 
Francis  at  the  castle  of  Molins.  The 
king  had  received  some  dark  hints  of 
the  plot;  but  the  apparent  candour 
of  Bourbon  dispelled  his  suspicions; 
and  he  proceeded  in  security  to  Lyons, 
where  he  was  informed  that  the  sick 
man  had  already  fled  in  disguise  out 
of  France.  This  intelligence  discon- 
certed his  former  plans.  Bonivet 
with  the  greater  part  of  the  army  was 
ordered  to  enter  Lombardy ;  the  king 
remained  to  make  head  against  his 
numerous  enemies,  who  were  already 
in  motion.  The  duke  of  Suffolk,  the 
English  general,  had  been  joined  by 
the  imperialists  under  the  count  De 
Buron  ;  and  twenty  thousand  men 
were  detained  under  the  walls  of 
St.  Omer,  while  it  was  debated  in 
council  whether  they  should  open  the 
campaign  with  the  siege  of  Boulogne, 
or  march  through  France  to  form  a 
junction  with  the  army  from  Ger- 


many. The  latter  plan,  but  against 
the  wish  of  Henry,  was  adopted ;  the 
allied  generals,  though  carefully 
watched  by  the  duke  of  Vendome, 
traversed  Artois  and  Picardy,  crossed 
the  Somme  and  the  Oise,  alarmed 
the  unwarlike  citizens  of  Paris,  and 
sought  their  German  friends  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Laon.  But  to  the 
Germans  had  been  opposed  the  duke 
of  Guise,  who  with  an  inferior  forcfi 
arrested  their  progress,  and  by  inter- 
cepting their  provisions,  compelled 
them  to  evacuate  the  French  terri- 
tory. Disappointed  in  their  hopes, 
the  allies  retraced  their  steps  in  the 
direction  of  Valenciennes ;  a  con- 
tinuance of  rainy  weather,  succeeded 
by  a  long  and  intense  frost,  multi- 
plied diseases  in  their  camp ;  the  men 
perished  daily  in  considerable  num- 
bers ;  and  the  two  generals  by  common 
consent  broke  up  the  army.  The 
king,  who  had  already  sent  orders  to 
Suffolk  to  spend  the  winter  on  the 
French  frontier,  received  the  intelli- 
gence with  strong  expressions  of  dis- 
pleasure ;  and  it  required  all  the 
address  of  the  cardinal  to  excuse  the 
conduct  of  the  duke,  and  to  screen 
him  from  the  resentment  of  his  sove- 
reign.1 

The  emperor  had  not  yet  accom- 
plished the  invasion  of  Guienne,  to 
which  he  had  bound  himself  by 
treaty.  It  was  indeed  long  before  he 
could  procure  from  the  Cortes  a  grant 
of  money  to  put  his  German  auxili- 
aries in  motion ;  their  arrival  was 
retarded  by  unforeseen  impediments ; 
and  at  last  the  Spanish  lords  refused 
to  entangle  themselves  in  the  dan- 
gerous defiles  of  the  Pyrenees  during 
the  severity  of  the  winter.  But 
Charles  replied  that  he  wanted  not 
their  advice  but  their  obedience; 
and  that  he  should  consider  as  his 
personal  enemy  every  mau  who  re- 


i  Compare  Hall  (113,  114,  116—121)  with 
the  cardinal's  despatches  in  Fiddes  (Collect. 


73,    106,    108,    109,    112),    and  Du   Bellay 
(Memoires,  75).    State  Pap.  i.  130— liO. 


JLD.  1523.]         AYOLSEY  ASPIRES  TO  THE  PAPACY. 


211 


mained  behind.  They  accompanied 
him  to  the  walls  of  Fontarabia ;  and 
at  the  end  of  three  months  that 
fortress  opened  its  gates.1 

3.  Italy,  however,  became  the  prin- 
cipal theatre,  as  it  was  the  great  object, 
of  the  war.  From  the  foot  of  Mount 
Cenis,  Bonivet  poured  his  followers, 
consisting  of  Frenchmen,  Germans, 
and  Swiss,  over  the  north  of  Lom- 
bardy ;  Asti,  Alessandria,  Novara, 
yielded  to  the  torrent;  nor  was  its 
progress  arrested  till  it  had  reached 
the  walls  of  Milan.  That  capital, 
defended  by  the  valour  of  a  numerous 
garrison,  and  by  the  hatred  of  the 
inhabitants,  who  had  already  expe- 
rienced the  tyranny  of  a  French  mas- 
ter, defied  the  power  and  intrigues 
of  the  invaders ;  and  Bonivet,  after  a 
siege  of  some  weeks,  was  compelled 
by  the  inclemency  of  the  season  to 
retire  into  winter  quarters  in  Rosate 
and  Biagrasso.  In  the  mean  time 
Pope  Adrian  died;  an  event  which 
suspended  the  march  of  the  papal 
troops,  and  rekindled  the  expiring 
hopes  of  the  English  cardinal.  The 
king  immediately  claimed  of  the  em- 
peror the  execution  of  his  former 
engagement  in  favour  of  Wolsey. 
That  minister  requested  him  to  inti- 
midate the  conclave  by  the  advance 
of  the  imperial  army ;  and  the  English 
envoys  at  Rome  received  orders  to 
spare  neither  money  nor  promises  to 
secure  the  tiara.  They  were,  how- 
ever, furnished  with  two  sets  of  let- 
ters, to  bo  employed  according  to 
circumstances;  the  one  recommend- 
ing the  elevation  of  the  cardinal 
Giulio  de*  Medici,  the  other  that  of 
the  royal  favourite.  The  conclave 
lasted  six  weeks;  several  candidates 
were  successively  rejected ;  and  the 
name  of  the  English  cardinal  was 


again  brought  forward ;  but  the  real 
struggle  lay  between  the  French  and 
imperial  factions,  of  which  the  first, 
after  a  long  resistance,  gave  way,  and 
Giulio  was  chosen  at  the  unexpected 
nomination  of  his  chief  antagonist 
Pompeo  Colonna.  He  took  the  name 
of  Clement  VII.  For  this  disappoint- 
ment Wolsey  consoled  himself  with 
the  belief  that  his  ambition  would 
have  been  gratified,  had  not  the  popu- 
lace of  Rome  asssembled  in  crowds 
under  the  windows  of  the  conclave, 
and  demanded  with  shouts  of  intimi- 
dation an  Italian  pope.  It  is  more 
probable  that  his  exclusion  was  owing 
to  the  obstinacy  of  the  French  car- 
dinals, who  would  never  concur  in  the 
choice  of  a  man,  the  most  dangerous 
opponent  of  their  sovereign.3 

During  the  winter  Henry  meditated 
the  conquest  of  Normandy;  but  for 
the  execution  of  his  plan  he  required 
the  aid  of  Bourbon,  whose  services 
could  not  be  spared  from  the  intended 
campaign  in  Italy.  Charles  had  em- 
ployed every  resource  to  recruit  his 
forces,  while  the  French  army  was 
unaccountably  suffered  to  dwindle 
away  by  disease  and  desertion.  Bo- 
nivet soon  found  it  necessary  to  retire 
from  Biagrasso,  followed  and  harassed 
by  a  more  numerous  enemy.  He 
reached  Marignano  in  safety ;  but,  in 
crossing  the  Sessia,  was  defeated  with 
the  loss  of  several  distinguished  of- 
ficers, and  among  them  of  the  che- 
valier Bayard.  From  that  hour  the 
retreat  was  changed  into  a  precipitate 
flight ;  the  French  garrisons  surren- 
dered at  the  first  summons,  and  in  a 
few  days  not  a  Frenchman  was  to  be 
found  in  arms  on  the  soil  of  Italy. 
Bourbon,  urged  by  past  success  and 
the  thirst  of  revenge,  now  proposed 
to  carry  the  flames  of  war  into  the 


*  Pet.  Mart.  427,  467. 

a  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  74.  MS.  Vitell.  B.  6, 
p.  233.  Burnet,  ii.  Eec.  p.  192,  iii.  Ee- 
cords,  p.  10—12.  Pailavic.  217.  Lettere  di 
Principi,  i.  100.  Sa  majeste1  (1'empereur) 


n'a  pas  vpulu  employer  son  arme'e  d'ltalie  a 
faire  le  dit  cardinal  Pape  par  force,  comme 
lay  avoit  fait  reqnerir  par  lettrea  du  Eoy 
son  maistre,  et  requis  par  lettres  de  ea 
main.— Le  Grand,  iii.  46. 


212 


HENRY  VIII. 


I  CHAP.  VII. 


heart  of  his  own  country;  and 
Oharles,  though  his  own  generals 
oj  posed  him,  adopted  the  plan  of  the 
exile.  Henry,  indeed,  taught  by  the 
result  of  the  last  campaign,  refused 
to  create  a  diversion  by  an  invasion 
of  Picardy  ;  but  he  consented  to  pay 
one  half  of  the  expenses,  which  had 
been  estimated  at  one  hundred  thou- 
sand crowns.  The  marquess  of  Pes- 
cara  took  the  command  of  the  army, 
amounting  to  no  more  than  seventeen 
thousand  men;  but  they  were  vete- 
rans inured  to  war  and  victory,  and 
expected  to  be  joined  by  the  numerous 
friends  and  partisans  of  the  house  of 
Bourbon  in  France.  The  resentment 
of  the  duke  was,  however,  disap- 
pointed by  the  inconstancy  of  the 
imperial  councils;  and  the  army, 
instead  of  marching  on  Lyons,  turned 
to  the  leffc  to  reduce  Marseilles, 
that  Charles,  like  his  English  uncle, 
might  possess  a  commodious  harbour 
within  the  territory  of  France.  But 
Marseilles  was  protected  by  the  pa- 
triotism of  the  citizens  and  the  bravery 
of  the  garrison ;  a  numerous  army 
was  hastily  collected  at  Avignon  for 
its  relief;  and  at  the  expiration  of 
forty  days  the  siege  was  raised  with 
terror  and  precipitation.  In  defiance 
of  the  entreaties  of  his  mother,  and 
the  advice  of  his  council,  Francis 
once  more  aspired  to  the  conquest  of 
Milan ;  and  it  became  a  contest  of 
speed  between  the  two  armies,  which 
should  be  the  first  to  obtain  possession 
of  that  capital.  The  French,  with 
their  accustomed  activity,  hastened 
by  the  beaten  road  over  Mount  Cenis ; 
the  imperialists,  with  indefatigable 
perseverance,  worked  their  way 
through  the  ravines,  and  over  the 
rocks  of  the  Riviera  de!3Iare.  When 
the  former  arrived  at  Vercelli,  the 
'atter  had  reached  Alva;  thence  they 
inarched  with  rapidity  to  Milan ;  but, 

C*  •'  '• •'-"•          '  .•...•..  

»  Du  Bellay,  100.    Muratori,  198—209. 
a  Joaccbino  was  a  Genoese,  sei/jneur  de 


finding  that  a  pestilential  disease  raged 
within  the  walls,  they  threw  a  gar- 
rison into  the  castle,  and  quitted  the 
city  by  the  Porta  Romana,  as  their 
pursuers  entered  by  the  Porta  Tici- 
nese.  It  was  thought,  that  if  Francis 
had  continued  to  follow  the  enemy, 
he  might  by  one  blow  have  terminated 
the  war;  but  he  turned  aside  to  be- 
siege the  strong  city  of  Pavia,  defended 
by  Antonio  da  Ley  va  with  a  garrison 
of  six  thousand  men.  For  three 
months  the  attack  and  defence  of  the 
place  were  conducted  with  equal 
obstinacy  and  equal  confidence  of 
success;  but  the  French  monarch 
imprudently  divided  his  strength  by 
detaching  Albany,  the  late  regent  of 
Scotland,  to  invade  the  kingdom  of 
Naples,  who  was  opposed  on  his  march 
by  the  Colonnesi,  and  advanced  no 
further  than  the  walls  of  Rome.1 

We  may  now  revert  to  the  trans- 
actions in  England,  and  trace  the 
origin  of  that  dissension,  which  gra- 
dually led  to  the  dissolution  of  the 
friendship  bet  ween  Henry  and  Charles. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  year  the  arch- 
bishop of  Capua  received  a  commission 
from  Clement  to  proceed  to  the  dif- 
ferent powers  at  war,  and  to  make 
them  an  offer  of  the  papal  mediation. 
The  king  of  England  replied,  that  he 
should  never  separate  his  interests 
from  those  of  his  nephew ;  but  that, 
if  any  negotiation  should  take  placo 
before  his  holiness,  it  would  be  propf 
that  a  secret  but  accredited  agent 
from  the  French  cabinet  should  be 
sent  both  to  the  imperial  and  the 
English  courts.  Within  a  few  weeks 
an  Italian,  named  Giovanni  Joac- 
chino,  in  the  service  of  Louise,  regent 
of  France  during  her  son's  absence, 
appeared  at  Boulogne  in  quality  of  a 
merchant,  and  solicited  a  passport  to 
England.2  On  his  arrival,  Wolsey 
acquainted  De  Praet,  the  imperial 


Taux  et  Passy,  counsellor  and  steward  of 
the  household  to  Louise.— Ejm.  j  . 


A.D.  1524.]          C1IAHLES  IS  JEALOUS  OF  IIENEY. 


213 


ambassador,  with  the  real  character  of 
this  pretended  merchant ;  but  at  the 
same  time  promised  to  communicate 
to  that  minister  whatever  overtures 
might  be  made  through  his  agency. 
Suspicion,  however,  was  excited  by 
the  frequent  interviews  between  the 
cardinal  and  Joacchino ;  at  the  end 
of  eight  months  De  Praet  could  no 
longer  conceal  his  alarm;  and  in  his 
letters  to  the  emperor,  and  to  Mar- 
garet, the  governess  of  the  Nether- 
lands, he  disclosed  his  apprehensions, 
and  the  grounds  on  which  he  had 
formed  them.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions, his  messenger  was  stopped  on 
the  road  as  a  vagrant,  probably  by  the 
contrivance  of  the  cardinal ;  and  the 
despatches  which  he  carried  were 
deciphered  and  read  before  the  coun- 
cil Both  Charles  and  Margaret  im- 
mediately complained  of  the  insult 
Avhich  had  been  offered  to  them  in 
the  arrest  of  their  servant ;  but  \Vol- 
sey,  to  justify  himself,  attributed  it 
to  accident;  declared  that  he  had 
faithfully  communicated  to  De  Praet 
every  proposal  made  by  the  French 
agent;  and  protested  that  nothing 
could  be  further  from  his  wish  than 
to  foment  dissensions  between  his 
sovereign  and  the  emperor.  It  must 
be  acknowledged  that  the  transaction 
wears  a  very  suspicious  appearance; 
but  his  assertion  is  borne  out  by 
the  tenour  of  his  despatches  both  im- 


mediately preceding,  and  immediately 
following,  this  quarrel.1  Suspecting 
that  Clement  was  inclined  to  favour 
the  cause  of  France,  he  had  instructed 
the  bishop  of  Bath  to  remind  the 
pontiff  of  his  obligations  to  the  king 
and  the  emperor,  and  to  warn  him 
of  the  evils  to  which  he  would  expose 
the  church  of  Germany,  by  offending 
the  only  prince  who  would  protect 
it  against  the  enmity  of  the  reformers.3 
Sir  John  Russell  received  orders  to 
pay  fifty  thousand  crowns  as  a  reward 
to  the  army  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon, 
with  discretionary  powers  to  add  five 
or  ten  thousand  more,  if  it  were  ne- 
cessary or  expedient ;  Pace  was  com- 
manded to  urge  the  Venetians  to 
seize  the  denies  of  the  Alps,  and  inter- 
cept the  reinforcements  which  were  on 
their  march  to  join  Francis ;  and  Sir 
Gregory  da  Casale  was  instructed  to 
concert  with  Lannoy,  the  viceroy  of 
Naples,  means  to  protect  that  king- 
dom against  the  forces  of  Albany,  and 
to  preserve  Milan  from  the  dominion 
of  France.3 

But  this  anxiety  of  TFolsey  was 
entirely  superfluous.  Before  his  de- 
spatches could  reach  the  theatre  of 
war,  Italy  had  been  saved,  and  Francis 
was  a  captive  in  the  hands  of  the  em- 
peror. Though  Leyva  had  success- 
fully repelled  every  assault  of  the 
besiegers,  he  beheld  with  dismay  the 
rapid  approach  of  famine ;  and  com- 


1  Fiddes,  313—313.   Hall,  125—135.  State 
Pap.  i.  151. 

2  The  following  passage  does  honour  to 
the  cardinal.     "  Herein  to  say  the  truth, 
sind  to  acquit  myself  of  my  duty  and  most 
tender  zeal  towards  his  holiness,  I  cannot 
free  how  it  may  stand  with  the  pleasure  of 
Almighty  God,  that  the  heads  of  the  church 
should   thus   involve  and  mix  themselves, 
and  the  slate  by  conjunction,  unto  temporal 
princes  in  the  wars  ;  but  that,  as  I  verily 
suppose,  since  the  leagues  offensive  and  de- 
fensive, or  both,  have  been  used  to  be  made 
iu  the  name  of  the  pope,  God  has  stricken 
and  sent  affliction  to  the  holy  church." — 
Tiddcs,  305. 

3  Fiddes,  30&,  309.     Collect.  117.     I  have 
•entered  into  this  detail  that  the  reader  mny 


judge  of  the  credit  due  to  an  assertion  first 
made  by  the  imperialists,  and  since  taken 
for  granted  by  historians,  that  the  subse- 
quent alliance  between  Henry  and  Francis, 
and  the  divorce  of  Queen  Catherine,  were 
suggested  by  Wolsey,  in  order  to  revenge 
himself  on  the  emperor  for  the  disappoint- 
ment of  his  hopes  with  respect  to  the  pa- 
pacy. For  eighteen  months  after  that  dis- 
appointment no  traces  of  disaffection  appear 
in  his  despatches,  but  the  most  eager  dcsiro 
to  promote  the  common  cause  of  the  allies. 
If  he  objected  to  the  invasion  of  France  till 
the  imperialists  had  obtained  some  decided 
advantage,  and  suspended  the  remittances 
to  Bourbon's  army  till  the  emperor  fulfilled 
nis  pecuniary  engagements,  he  did  nothing 
more  than  his  duty,  after  the  want  of  good 
faith  which  he  had  hitherto  experienced. 


214 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vn. 


municated  his  situation  to  the  impe- 
rial generals  in  the  following  laconic 
note :  "  Either  come  to  us,  or  we  must 
cut  our  way  to  you."  The  French 
army  lay  strongly  intrenched  under 
the  walls  of  Pavia;  and  its  rear-guard 
was  posted  in  the  beautiful  castle  of 
of  Mirabello,  situate  in  an  extensive 
park,  which  had  been  inclosed  with  a 
high  and  solid  wall.  The  allies  hav- 
ing, to  conceal  their  design,  made 
false  attacks  during  several  days, 
marched  silently  at  midnight  to  the 
park;  a  body  of  pioneers  began  to 
demolish  the  wall;  before  daylight 
the  army  entered  through  a  breach 
one  hundred  paces  in  length ;  and  at 
dawn  the  castle  was  carried  by  sur- 
prise. Francis  hastily  and  unad- 
visedly drew  his  troops  out  of  their 
intrenchments,  and  marched  to  oppose 
the  enemy.  Of  the  battle  which  fol- 
lowed it  is  difficult  to  form  any  distinct 
idea  from  the  confused  narratives 
of  the  original  writers.  But  the 
French  were  harassed  in  the  rear  by 
the  garrison;  they  were  deprived  of 
the  use  of  their  artillery  by  interpos- 
ing themselves  between  their  trenches 
and  the  allies ;  and  their  gendarmerie, 
after  gaining  some  advantages,  was 
broken  by  a  strong  body  of  Spanish 
musketeers.  The  Swiss  in  the  pay  of 
Francis  did  not  maintain  their  former 
reputation,  but  turned  their  backs  at 
the  first  charge ;  and  the  German 
auxiliaries,  who  fought  with  the 
bravery  of  despair,  were  slain  to  a 
man.  The  king  saw  the  most  faithful 
of  his  nobles  fall  around  him ;  he  had 
received  two  slight  wounds  in  the 
face,  and  one  in  the  hand ;  his  horse 
was  killed  under  him;  and  still  he 
refused  to  surrender  to  the  Spaniards, 
by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  For- 
tunately, Pomperant,  a  French  gen- 
tleman in  the  service  of  Bourbon, 
recognised  his  sovereign,  and  called 


Lannoy,  who  kneeling,  kissed  the 
king's  hand,  received  his  sword,  and 
in  return  gave  his  own,  saying  that  it 
did  not  become  a  monarch  to  appear 
unarmed  in  the  presence  of  a  subject. 
With  Francis  were  taken  the  nominal 
king  of  Navarre,  the  bastard  of  Savoy, 
and  many  distinguished  noblemen. 
The  slain  amounted  to  more  than 
eight  thousand  men,  among  whom 
were  several  captains  of  rank,  and,  to 
to  the  great  satisfaction  of  Henry, 
Richard  de  la  Pole,  the  pretender  to 
the  English  throne.1 

In  London  the  victory  of  Pavia  was 
announced  to  the  citizens  with  every 
demonstration  of  joy.  A  day  of 
thanksgiving  was  appointed ;  the  car- 
dinal officiated  at  St.  Paul's ;  and  the 
king  assisted  in  state  with  the  ambas- 
sadors of  the  allies.  To  derive  every 
possible  advantage  from  the  captivity 
of  Francis,  Tunstall,  bishop  of  Lon- 
don, and  Wingfield,  chancellor  of  the 
duchy  of  Lancaster,  were  despatched 
to  the  imperial  court,  with  instructions 
to  place  every  obstacle  in  their  power 
to  the  liberation  of  the  royal  prisoner  ; 
and  to  propose  that  Henry  and 
Charles  should  invade  Franco  in  con- 
cert; that  they  should  meet  each 
other  at  Paris;  and  that  the  king  of 
England  should  ascend  the  French 
throne  as  his  lawful  inheritance,  while 
the  emperor  should  recover  those  pro- 
vinces to  which  he  laid  claim  as  repre- 
sentative of  the  house  of  Burgundy.2 
But  to  execute  this  gigantio  plan 
required  a  copious  supply  of  money ; 
and,  though  the  time  allotted  for  the 
late  taxes  was  not  expired,  yet  their 
produce  had  been  already  anticipated. 
To  another  parliament  the  king  felt 
an  insuperable  objection  ;  for  the  last 
had  not  only  cut  down  the  amount  of 
his  demand,  but  had  also  deferred 
the  grant  till  after  the  time  when  it 
was  most  wanted.  He  therefore  re- 


1  Pet.    Mart.    p. 
Guicciard.  1084. 


484.    Dn  Bcllay,   117. 


Fiddes,  327—332. 


A.D.  1525.]      OPPOSITION  TO  THE  KING'S  DEMAND. 


215 


solved  to  raise  money  by  the  royal 
prerogative ;  a  fourth  was  demanded 
of  the  clergy,  a  sixth  of  the  laity ; 
and  commissioners  were  named  to 
levy  the  new  subsidy  in  the  different 
counties.  But  the  clergy  made  the 
most  obstinate  resistance.  They  re- 
plied, that  the  commission  was  con- 
trary to  the  liberties  of  the  realm  ; 
that  the  king  could  take  no  man's 
goods  but  by  due  order  of  law;  and 
that  therefore  they  would  pay  nothing 
more  than  they  had  already  granted 
in  convocation.  They  even  preached 
these  doctrines  from  the  pulpit,  and 
by  words  and  example  animated  the 
people  to  resistance.  Informed  of 
the  general  feeling  by  the  commis- 
sioners, the  king  reluctantly  issued  a 
proclamation,  stating  that  he  de- 
manded no  particular  sum,  but  would 
rely  on  the  "  benevolence"  of  his  sub- 
jects, and  accept  whatever  they  might 
individually  think  proper  to  give. 
But  this  expedient  did  not  succeed. 
It  was  replied,  that  benevolences  had 
been  declared  illegal  by  act  of  parlia- 
ment. In  London  the  citizens  by  their 
unanimity  eluded  the  artifices,  the 
prayers,  and  the  arguments  of  Wol- 
sey ;  in  Kent,  the  commissioners  were 
insulted  and  put  to  flight ;  in  Suffolk, 
four  thousand  men  took  up  arms,  but 
were  persuaded  to  return  to  their 
'homes  by  the  duke  of  Norfolk ;  and 
at  length  Henry,  by  a  proclamation 
published,  as  was  pretended,  at  the 
earnest  request  of  the  cardinal,  re- 
mitted to  his  subjects  all  the  demands 
which  he  had  made.  Thus  the  spirit 
of  the  clergy  and  people  triumphed 
over  the  despotism  of  the  king  and 
the  wiles  of  his  minister,  and  this 
attempt  to  invade,  served  only  to 
strengthen  and  perpetuate,  the  liber 
ties  of  the  nation.1 

Before  the  arrival  of  the  English 
envoys,  the  invasion  of  France  had 


been  debated  and  rejected  in  the 
mperial  cabinet.  Charles,  though 
the  lord  of  so  many  nations,  could 
not  raise  a  single  crown  without  the 
consent  of  his  subjects ;  and,  instead 
of  being  able  to  defray  the  expense  of 
a  new  expedition,  had  not  wherewith 
to  liquidate  the  arrears  of  his  victo- 
rious army  in  Italy ;  while  France, 
.hough  humbled  by  the  captivity  of 
icr  king,  and  the  loss  of  the  merce- 
nary Germans  and  Swiss  who  followed 
her  standard,  still  preserved  her  na- 
ive strength  unimpaired.  On  these 
grounds,  the  emperor  preferred  nego- 
tiation to  war,  forbade  by  procla- 
mation any  inroad  into  the  French 
territory,  and  cheerfully  consented  tc 
an  armistice  during  the  six  following 
months.  To  the  proposal  of  the  am- 
bassadors he  replied,  that,  as  the  game 
was  already  inclosed  in  the  toils,  they 
had  nothing  more  to  do  than  to  make 
the  most  of  their  good  fortune;  and 
for  that  purpose  he  requested  both 
the  king  and  the  cardinal  to  empower 
the  English  agents  to  co-operate  with 
the  imperial  ministers  in  settling  the 
terms  on  which  Francis  should  re- 
cover his  liberty.2  From  his  letters 
it  is  plain  that  he  had  no  wish  to 
dissolve  his  alliance  with  Henry ;  but 
it  is  also  true  that  his  displeasure  at 
the  conduct  of  the  English  cabinet, 
joined  to  the  great  superiority  which 
he  had  obtained,  made  him  less  soli- 
citous to  flatter  the  vanity  of  his 
uncle,  or  to  retain  the  friendship  of 
the  favourite.  1.  The  insult  which 
he  had  received  in  the  person  of  his 
ambassador  had  sunk  deep  into  his 
breast;  nor  was  the  subsequent 
treatment  of  De  Praet  of  a  nature 
to  soothe  his  resentment  That 
minister  was  become  the  object  of 
Wolsey's  hatred  ;  his  character  was 
publicly  lampooned;  his  life  was  even 
menaced;  and  at  last  (whether  through 


1  Hall,  137—142. 

2  Qu'il     pouvoit     demeurer    en     repos; 
qu'ayant  le  cerf  dans  sea  toiles,  il  ne  faloi) 


songer  qu'a  partager  la  nape. — Ambass.  d* 
M.  de  Tarbeo,  apud  Le  Grand.  Histoire  du 
Divorce,  i.  41.  Id.  iii  40 


21G 


HENRI  VI11. 


[CHAP.  vir. 


apprehension,  or  the  orders  of  his 
court,  is  uncertain)  he  privately  left 
London,  and  by  extraordinary  ex- 
ertions reached  Madrid  before  the 
arrival  of  Tunstall  and  Wingfield.1 
2.  The  constant  residence  of  Joac- 
chino  in  the  neighbourhood  of  West- 
minster was  another  source  of  sus- 
picion and  uneasiness ;  nor  could 
Charles  be  persuaded  that  more  did 
not  pass  in  the  interviews  between 
him  and  the  cardinal  than  the  latter 
chose  to  avow.2  3.  By  letters  which 
had  been  intercepted  at  sea,  he  had 
learned  that  the  princess  Mary,  though 
she  had  been  contracted  to  him  for 
years,  had  been  secretly  offered  in 
marriage  both  to  the  king  of  Scotland 
and  the  king  of  France ;  and  to  put 
Henry's  sincerity  to  the  test,  he  now 
formally  demanded  her  as  his  wife, 
promising  that  if  she  were  conveyed 
to  the  Low  Countries,  she  should  be 
proclaimed  empress,  and  should  be 
received  with  the  honours  due  to  that 
high  dignity.  The  king  denied  the 
charge,  but  refused  to  part  with  his 
only  daughter  at  so  early  an  age.  He 
would,  however,  pledge  himself  to 
deliver  her,  whenever  Charles  would 
enable  him  to  receive  the  crown 
of  France  in  Paris,  or  would  give 
to  him  in  exchange  the  captive  mo- 
narch.3 

If  we  may  credit  the  assertion  of 
Henry,  it  was  the  cold  and  super- 
cilious tone  now  assumed  by  Charles, 
and  tne  little  attention  paid  to  his 
counsels,  which  alienated  him  from 
his  nephew ;  perhaps  if  he  had  faith- 
fully analyzed  the  workings  of  his 
own  breast,  he  would  have  discovered 
that  he  was  also  envious  of  the  ele- 
vation to  which  the  youg  emperor 
had  been  raised  by  the  battle  of  Pavia, 
and  began  to  fear  from  his  superior 


power  that  danger  to  the  liberties  of 
Europe  which  he  had  formerly  im- 
puted to  the  ambition  of  Francis. 
There  was  another  reason  which 
weighed  still  more  powerfully  with 
his  minister.  In  the  present  embar- 
rassed state  of  the  finances  it  was 
necessary  to  procure  money  from 
some  source  or  other.  His  recen'i 
failure  had  taught  him  that  he  coull 
not  extort  it  from  the  people,  and  he 
knew  that  to  expect  it  from  the  jus- 
tice or  the  gratitude  of  Charles  was 
useless.  France  alone  presented  a 
certain  resource.  By  a  separate 
negotiation  with  that  power,  he 
would  be  enabled  to  dictate  the 
conditions  of  peace ;  and  besides 
preventing  the  extraordinary  ex- 
penses incident  to  a  state  of  war, 
might  insist  on  the  payment  of  the 
large  sums  due  to  England  from 
France  by  the  former  conventions. 
To  the  first  overture  from  Joacchino 
he  returned  a  most  favourable  an- 
swer ;  an  armistice  granted  for  forty 
days  was  soon  prolonged  to  four 
months;  and  during  the  suspension 
of  arms,  an  alliance  offensive  and 
defensive  was  concluded  between  the 
two  crowns.  The  French  cabinet 
purchased  this  advantage  with  the 
following  sacrifices.  It  consented, — 
1.  To  pay  to  Henry,  in  lieu  of  his 
present  demands,  the  sum  of  two 
millions  of  crowns  by  half-yearly 
instalments  of1  fifty  thousand  crowns 
each,  and,  when  that  debt  should  be 
fully  discharged,  to  pay  him  more- 
over an  annual  pension  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns  during  the- 
term  of  his  natural  life :  2.  To  allow 
Henry's  sister  Mary,  the  queen  dowa- 
ger of  France,  to  enjoy  the  full  profits 
of  her  dower  for  the  future,  and  ta 
discharge  the  arrears  already  due  to 


1  Hall,  139.  H  fut  audit  royaume  d'An- 
gletcrre  maltraite,  menasso,  prins  les  lettres 
qu'il  escrivoit  a  sadite  majeste",  ct  icelles 
ouvertes  par  lea  ministres  dudit  roy  centre 
lous  droits  diriu  et  humain. — Charles's  me- 


morial against  Henry,  apud  Le  Grand,  iii. 
40.  Rymer's  in  edited  papers,  Hen.  A'lII. 
vol.  iii.  43. 

2  Le  Grand,  iii.  39.    Fiddes,  330. 

3  Le  Grand,  iii.  39.  Hall,  136.  Fidde3,331* 


A.D.  1525.] 


CAPTURE  OF  FRANCIS. 


217 


her  by  half-yearly  payments  of  five 
thousand  crowns:  3.  To  pay  to  the 
cardinal,  by  regular  instalments  in 
the  course  of  seven  years  and  a  half, 
thirty  thousand  crowns,  due  on  ac- 
count of  his  resignation  of  the  bishop- 
ric of  Tournay,  and  one  hundred 
thousand  more  as  a  reward  for  his 
services  to  the  royal  family  of  France: 
4.  and  lastly,  to  engage  that  the  duke 
of  Albany  should  never  return  to 
Scotland  during  the  minority  of  the 
present  king.  To  insure  the  faithful 
performance  of  these  articles  every  pos- 
sible formality  was  observed.  Louise 
sanctioned  them  with  her  oath ;  Francis 
ratified  them  both  during  his  captivity, 
and  again  after  his  release;  and  the 
principal  of  the  French  nobility,  with 
the  great  cities  of  Toulouse,  Lyons, 
Amiens,  Rheims,  Paris,  Bordeaux, 
Tours,  and  Rouen,  bound  themselves, 
under  the  forfeiture  of  all  their  pro- 
perty, not  only  to  observe  the  treaty 
themselves,  but  to  compel  the  king 
himself  to  observe  it  by  all  the  means 
in  their  power.1  After  this  the  reader 
will  perhaps  learn  with  surprise,  that 
at  the  same  time  the  attorney  and 
solicitor-general  of  the  parliament  of 
Paris  entered  on  the  private  register 
a  solemn  protest  against  the  whole 
transaction,  that  Francis  might,  when- 
ever he  thought  proper,  found  on  that 
protest  a  refusal  to  fulfil  these  engage- 
ments.2 

The  captive  monarch  was  at  first 
confined  in  the  strong  fortress  of 
Pizzighitone  ;  but  he  longed  to  see 
Charles  himself,  in  the  hope  of  ac- 
quiring by  his  address  the  esteem  of 
the  young  conqueror ;  and  at  his  own 


petition  was  removed  from  Italy  to 
Spain,  from  Pizzighitone  to  the 
Alcazar  of  Madrid.3  But  his  ex- 
pectations were  disappointed.  The 
imperial  ministers  were  aware  of  the 
disposition  of  Charles,  who  seldom 
refused  a  favour  ;  they  feared  that 
through  pity  or  vanity  he  might  bo 
drawn  into  imprudent  concessions ; 
and,  before  the  arrival  of  Francis,  had 
removed  him  to  Toledo,  that  he  might 
preside  at  an  assembly  of  the  Cortes. 
There  he  was  assailed  by  the  impor- 
tunities of  the  nation,  importunities 
probably  dictated  by  himself,  to 
marry,  in  order  to  preserve  the 
succession;  and  in  consequence,  he 
instructed  his  ambassador  in  London 
to  demand  that  the  lady  Mary  should 
be  sent  to  Spain,  or  that  he  should  be 
released  from  his  contract  to  marry 
her.  Henry  a  second  time  refused  to 
part  with  his  daughter  at  that  early 
age ;  but  acknowledged  that  such  re- 
fusal on  his  part  ought  not  to  prevent 
the  emperor  from  consulting  his  own 
interests,  and  therefore  sent  full  power 
to  the  English  ambassadors  to  give 
him  a  formal  release  from  his  engage- 
ment. They,  however,  received  it 
not  before  Charles  was  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  Henry's  defection  to 
the  cause  of  his  adversary ;  still  he 
accepted  the  release  as  a  boon,  be- 
cause, without  the  dissolution  of  his 
contract  with  Mary,  he  could  not 
be  validly  contracted  to  any  other 
woman.  In  a  few  weeks  he  married 
Isabella,  infanta  of  Portugal,  who 
brought  with  her  a  marriage  portion 
of  nine  hundred  thousand  crowns.4 
In  the  mean  time  negotiations  had 


1  Rym.  xiv.  37,  45—113, 121—151. 

"  D'Orleans,  anno  1525. 

3  A  la  requeste  dudit  seigneur  Koy  tres- 
chrestien.— Rym.  xiv.  308. 

*  Lequel  aima  myeulx  d'envoyer  pouvoir 
a  ses  ambassadeurs'pour  eonsentir  a  aultre 
marriage  avec  aucunes  conditions,  que  d'en- 
voyer sadite  fille  par  de$a. — Memorial  ol 
Charles  apud  Le  Grand,  iii.  40.  When  the 
demand  was  made,  Mary  was  only  in  her 
eleventh  year.  Hall  nays,  that  the  junta 


advised  Charles  not  to  wait  till  she  were  of 
age  :  he  then  adds ;  "  they  also  said  she  was 
begotten  of  his  brother's  wife."— Hall,  149. 
On  the  authority  of  this  passage,  several 
writers  have  ventured  to  assert  that  the 
validity  of  Henry's  marriage  with  Catherine 
was  disputed  in  Spain,  and  that  Charles 
refused  to  marry  Mary,  on  the  ground  that 
her  legitimacy  was  doubtful.  Among  these 
was  Burnet  in  his  first  volume,  p.  276 ; 
but  having  afterwards  seen  the  instructions.. 


.218 


HENRY  VIII. 


TCHAP.  VIL 


been  opened  and  interr  \ipted ,  resumed 
and  adjourned,  between  the  French 
and  imperial  ministers.  Francis  sig- 
nified his  willingness  to  abandon  his 
right  of  sovereignty  over  the  country 
cf  Flanders,  and  even  to  renounce 
his  claim  to  the  duchy  of  Milan  and 
the  kingdom  of  Naples  ;  but  he  re- 
fused on  any  consideration  to  sever 
the  rich  province  of  Burgundy  from 
his  crown,  and  offered  in  its  place  a 
considerable  sum  of  money.  Charles 
indignantly  replied,  that  money  was 
not  his  object;  that  he  did  not  mean 
to  sell  the  liberty  of  his  captive,  but 
to  recover  what  was  his  own  ; *  that  it 
was  not  fifty  years  since  Burgundy 
had  been  unjustly  wrested  from  his 
family;  and  that  Francis  must  now 
restore  it,  or  linger  out  his  days  in 
a  prison.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
king  threatened  to  commit  suicide, 
that  he  neglected  his  health  till  his 
life  appeared  in  danger,  that  he  signed 
an  act  of  abdication  in  favour  of  the 
dauphin.  No  argument  could  mollify 
the  emperor,  no  artifice  elude  the 
penetration  of  his  ministers.  At 
length  the  reluctance  of  Francis 
was  apparently  overcome.  He  con- 
sented to  transfer  Burgundy  to 
Charles  within  six  weeks  after  his 
release  ;  to  surrender  his  two  eldest 
sons  as  hostages  for  the  performance 
of  that  engagement;  to  renounce  his 
own  pretensions  to  Milan,  Naples, 
and  the  sovereignty  of  Flanders,  if 
on  the  other  part,  the  emperor  would 
renounce  his  to  Boulogne,  Ponthieu, 
and  several  tracts  on  both  banks  of 
the  Somme ;  to  marry  Eleonora,  the 
sister  of  Charles  ;  to  restore  the  duke 
of  Bourbon  to  all  his  former  rights 
and  possessions ;  to  guarantee  the 
emperor  against  the  demands  of  the 
king  of  England  for  the  arrears  of  his 


to  the  ambassadors  at  Madrid,  he  candidly 
acknowledged  that  it  was  a  mistake  (torn.  iii. 

&33) .     Isabella  was  espoused  to  Charles  on 
ov.  1 ;  and,  on  account  of  some  objection 
to  the  dispensation,  again  on  Jan.  20.    The 


pension,  which  had  been  suspended 
during  the  war ;  and,  if  he  found 
himself  unable  to  fulfil  these  articles, 
bo  place  himself  again  a  captive  in  the 
bands  of  his  adversary.2  The  honour 
of  Francis  has  been  the  theme  of 
many  panegyrists ;  it  will  be  difficult 
to  discover  any  traces  of  it  in  hia 
conduct  on  this  occasion.  On  the 
very  morning  on  which  he  had  deter- 
mined to  sign  the  treaty,  he  called  a 
few  trusty  friends  around  him,  read 
to  them  a  protest  against  the  validity 
of  the  act  which  he  was  about  to  per- 
form, and  then,  with  the  resolution  to 
violate  his  promise,  wrote  his  signa- 
ture, engaged  to  fulfil  every  article  on 
the  faith  of  a  king,  and  confirmed  that 
pledge  with  the  sacred  obligation  of 
an  oath. 

The  treaty  of  Madrid  called  into 
action  the  diplomatic  finesse,  or  rather 
the  low  cunning,  of  the  English  cabi- 
net. As  soon  as  the  particulars  were 
known,  Sir  Thomas  Cheney,  and  Dr. 
Taylor,  a  celebrated  jurist,  were  des- 
patched to  France,  ostensibly  to  con- 
gratulate the  king  on  his  release  from 
captivity,  in  reality  to  obtain  from 
him  the  ratification  of  the  convention 
already  concluded  with  Henry  by  his 
mother,  and  to  urge  him  to  the  viola- 
tion of  that  which  he  had  himself 
concluded  with  the  emperor.  But 
they  were  instructed  to  proceed  with 
caution  and  dissimulation;  to  ascer- 
tain previously  the  real  dispositions 
of  the  French  cabinet;  to  speak  as 
from  themselves,  and  not  in  the  name 
of  their  sovereign ;  to  affect  ignorance, 
and  request  that  the  treaty  of  Madrid 
might  be  communicated  to  them ;  to 
exclaim  against  the  severity  of  its  con- 
ditions, and  express  their  hope  that 
the  nation  would  rise  in  a  body,  and 
prevent  the  king  from  fulfilling  them. 


marriage  took  place  at  Seville,  on  March  11. 

'  Non  libertatem  regi  venrtere sed 

quod  eratjuresuum  per mutuum beneficiuta 
recipere. — Sepulveda,  1.  vi.  p.  181. 

2  Ejm.  xiv.  308. 


A.D.  1526.] 


OEIGIN  OF  THE  HEFOKMATION. 


219 


Then  Cheney,  who  knew  nothing  of 
law,  was  to  inquire  of  his  colleague,  if 
it  were  possible  that  oaths  and  pro- 
mises made  in  such  circumstances 
could  be  binding;  and  Taylor,  who 
was  already  furnished  with  pretended 
precedents,  and  with  the  opinions  of 
canonists  and  divines,  was  in  a  learned 
discourse  to  maintain  the  negative.1 
When  they  set  out,  Francis  had  al- 
ready crossed  the  small  river  Andaye, 
the  boundary  between  his  dominions 
and  those  of  Spain,  on  which  he  had 
been  exchanged  for  his  two  eldest 
sons,  the  dauphin  and  the  duke  of 
Orleans.  The  same  day  he  rode  to 
Bayonne,  where  he  signed  the  bond 
*or  the  payment  of  the  two  millions 
of  crowns,  and  the  yearly  pension  to 
Henry,  and  wrote  to  him  a  letter 
expressive  of  his  gratitude  for  the 
interference  of  the  English  monarch, 
and  of  his  resolution  to  be  guided  by 
him  in  all  his  transactions  with  the 
emperor.  At  Bordeaux  he  "received 
the  ambassadors,  and  ratified  with  his 
signature  the  existing  engagements 
between  the  two  crowns.2  It  soon 
appeared  that  he  required  not  the 
invitation  of  Henry  to  violate  the 
treaty  of  Madrid.  He  refused  to 
surrender  Burgundy,  on  the  pretext 
that  it  was  contrary  to  his  coronation 
oath,  and  to  the  will  of  the  natives ; 
but  offered  in  compensation,  what 
had  been  before  rejected,  a  sum  of 
money.  Charles  immediately  called 
on  him  like  a  loyal  prince  to  return 
into  captivity ;  but  he  laughed  at  the 
requisition,  and  spent  the  summer 
in  negotiations  with  Henry.  Francis 
bound  himself  never  to  make  peace 
with  the  emperor  till  full  security 


were  obtained  for  the  liquidation  of 
the  debt  due  to  the  English  king 
from  Charles;  and  Henry  engaged 
not  to  accept  of  such  security  till  the 
French  princes  should  be  freed  from 
captivity  for  a  ransom  of  one  million 
of  crowns.  But  here  the  king  and 
his  ministers  thought  it  expedient 
to  pause.  Francis  sought  to  make 
Henry  a  party  in  the  war ;  but 
Wolsey,  though  he  deemed  it  proper 
to  keep  alive  the  hdpes  of  the  French 
monarch,  was  at  the  same  time  too 
cautious  to  be  drawn  into  any  positive 
engagement  on  the  part  of  his  sove- 
reign.3 

That  I  might  not  interrupt  the 
course  of  political  events,  I  have 
hitherto  abstained  from  noticing  the 
religious  revolution  which  had 
already  occurred  in  Germany,  and 
which  gradually  new-modelled  the 
clergy,  subverted  the  established 
creed,  and  abolished  the  papal  autho- 
rity in  several  of  the  states  of  Europe. 
As  in  a  few  years  it  penetrated  into 
this  island,  and  produced  the  most 
important  innovations  in  our  reli- 
gious polity,  it  cannot,  though  of 
foreign  origin,  be  deemed  foreign  to 
the  history  of  England ;  nor  will  the 
reader  be  displeased  if  I  have  reserved 
for  the  conclusion  of  this  chapter  a 
more  detailed  account  of  the  causes 
which  led  to  its  commencement  and 
accelerated  its  progress. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  primitive 
church  visited  with  peculiar  severity 
the  more  flagrant  violations  of  the 
divine  law :  and  that  such  punish- 
ments were  occasionally  mitigated  by 
the  "indulgence"  of  the  bishops,  who, 
in  favour  of  particular  penitents,  were 


*  Fiddes,  358—361.     Strype,  61—63. 

2  Eyin.  xiv.  129—133,  134—154. 

3  Stat.  Pap.  i.  170,  7.     Rym.  185,  7,  9— 
192.     In  one  of  the  conferences  in   Spain, 
the  emperor's  chancellor,  speaking  of  the 
violation  of  the  treaty  of  Madrid,  let  fall  the 
words    "falsehood   and   perfidy ."      Francis 
complained  of  them  to  Henry  as  an  insult 
to  all  crowned  heads.     The  king  replied 


that  the  chancellor  was  the  most  infamous 
of  men;  and  Wolsey,  after  a  long  confer- 
ence with  him,  advised  that  Francis  should 
demand  personal  satisfaction  of  the  em- 
peror, unless  he  disavowed  the  language  of 
his  minister  ;  and  promised  that  Henry  him- 
self would  take  up  the  quarrel,  if  anything 
should  prevent  Francis  from  meeting  hia 
adversary.— Le  Grand,  iii.  59, 63,  64. 


HENIIY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vir. 


accustomed  to  abridge  the  austerities 
enjoined  by  the  canons,  or  to  com- 
mute them  for  works  of  charity  and 
exercises  of  piety.  When  Urban  II. 
in  the  council  of  Clermont  called  upon 
the  Christian  nations  to  emancipate 
Jerusalem  from  the  yoke  of  the  infi- 
dels, he  offered  to  the  adventurers  a 
"  plenary  indulgence  ; "  that  is,  he 
onacted  that  all  who,  having  confessed 
their  sins  with  true  repentance  of 
heart,  might  engage  in  the  expedition, 
should  be  exempted,  in  consequence 
of  the  labours  and  dangers  to  which 
they  voluntarily  exposed  themselves, 
from  the  canonical  penances  to  which 
they  were  otherwise  liable.1  Two 
centuries  later,  in  the  council  of 
Lyons,  the  same  indulgence  was  ex- 
tended to  those  who,  unable  to  join 
the  crusade  in  person,  should  by 
voluntary  donations  contribute  to  its 
success.2  From  that  period  indul- 
gences began  to  be  multiplied.  As 
often  as  money  was  required  for  any 
object  really  or  apparently  connected 
with  tke  interests  of  religion,  they 
were  offered  to  the  people;  and,  as 
men  give  with  less  reluctance  when 
they  are  left  to  their  own  option 
than  when  they  arc  compelled  by 
force,  the  expedient  generally  suc- 
ceeded. But  abuses  of  two  kinds 
grew  out  of  the  practice.  1.  The 
money  was  frequently  diverted  from 
its  original  destination,  and  found  its 
way  into  the  private  coffers  of  the 
pontiff,  or  into  the  treasuries  of  the 
secular  princes.3  2.  The  office  of  col- 
lecting the  contributions  was  com- 
mitted to  inferior  agents  called  ques- 
tors,  whose  interest  it  was,  as  they 


received  a  per-centage  on  the  amount, 
to  exaggerate  the  advantages  of  the 
indulgence,  and  to  impose  on  the  sim- 
plicity and  credulity  of  the  people. 
It  is  indeed  true  that,  to  prevent 
such  abuses,  severe  constitutions  had 
been  enacted  by  several  popes;4 
but  these  laws  were  either  not  en- 
forced, or  had  fallen  into  disuse  :  and 
those  who  bewailed  the  evil,  saw  little 
hope  of  a  remedy  from  pontiffs  who 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  their  spi- 
ritual character,  in  their  ardour  to 
free  Italy  from  the  dominion  of 
strangers,  and  to  aggrandize  at  the 
same  time  their  respective  families. 

Among  the  different  projects  which 
occupied  the  restless  mind  of  Julius 
II.,  was  that  of  erecting  a  temple 
worthy  of  the  capital  of  the  Christian 
world,  of  enormous  dimensions  and 
unrivalled  magnificence.  To  raise 
money  for  this  purpose,  he  had  pub- 
lished an  indulgence  in  Poland  and 
France,  which  his  successor  Leo  X. 
had  with  the  same  view  extended  to 
the  northern  provinces  of  Germany.5 
The  papal  commission  was  directed  to 
Albert,  elector  of  Mentz,and  arch- 
bishop of  Magdeburg ;  and  that  pre- 
late employed  as  his  delegate  Tetzel, 
a  Dominican  friar,  who  had  already 
executed  the  same  office  under  the 
Teutonic  knights.  The  brethren  of 
Tetzel  rapidly  spread  themselves  over 
Saxony ;  some,  not  content  with  their 
sermons  from  the  pulpit,  offered  in- 
dulgences in  the  streets  and  markets, 
in  taverns  and  private  houses ;  they 
even  taught,  if  we  may  credit  the 
interested  declamation  of  their  adver- 
sary, that  every  contributor,  if  he  paid 


1  Cone.  Claremont,  can.  2. 

2  Cone.  Lugdun.  1,  cap.  xvii. 

3  Thus  about  six  years  before  the  rise  of 
Luther,  an  indulgence  had  been  preached 
in  Saxony,  to  raise  money  for  the  war  against 
"he  Turks.     ]3ut  the  whole  sum  was  divided 
between  the  emperor  and  the  elector,  who 
iifterwards   patronised  Luther.     As  some 
reparation,  he  gave  two  hundred  florins  to 
the  church  of  Wittemberg.— Schmidt,  1.  viii. 
c.  3. 


4  Certus  mihi  yidebar  me  habiturnra  pa- 

tronum    papam qui    in    suis    decretit 

clarissime  damnat  quacstorum  imraodestiam. 
— Luth.  Op.  i.  Praef. 

5  Pallavicino,  i.  52.  That  he  had  assigned, 
as  is  often  said,  a  portion  of  the  profits  to 
his  sister  Maddalena,  is  shown  to  be  falso- 
by  Pallavicino,  54.    Even  Luther  says  the 
money  was    ad   fabricam    Sancti   Petri.— 
Op.  i.  1,  11. 


A.D.  1526, 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


221 


on  his  own  account,  infallibly  opened 
to  himself  the  gates  of  heaven ;  if  on 
account  of  the  dead,  instantly  libe- 
rated a  soul  from  the  prison  of 
purgatory.1 

The  origin  of  the  revolution  which 
followed  may,  with  probability,  be 
attributed  to  the  counsels  of  Stau- 
pitz, vicar  of  the  friars  of  St.  Augus- 
tine. It  has  been  generally  supposed 
that  he  was  actuated  by  a  spirit  of 
opposition  to  the  Dominicans,  whe- 
ther that  opposition  sprung  from  any 
previous  rivalry  between  the  two 
institutes,  or  from  resentment,  that 
the  lucrative  office  of  collecting  the 
contributions  had  been  bestowed  on 
Tetzel  instead  of  himself.2  For  his 
ostensible  agent  he  selected  a  young 
friar  of  his  own  order,  Martin  Luther, 
a  man  of  an  ardent  mind,  of  unim- 
peached  morals,  and  of  strong  pre- 
judices against  the  court  of  Rome. 
When  Frederic,  elector  of  Saxony, 
founded  the  university  of  Wittem- 
berg,  Luther  had  obtained  a  profes- 
sorship at  the  recommendation  of 
Staupitz,  and  soon  attracted  notice  by 
the  peculiar  boldness  of  his  assertions, 
and  his  constant  preference  of  the 
opinions  of  Plato  to  the  doctrines  of 
Aristotle.  He  was  now  in  his  thirty- 
fifth  year,  vain  of  his  talents  for  dis- 
putation, and  fearless  of  opposition ; 
and  eagerly  undertook  the  task 
assigned  to  him  by  the  zeal  or  the 
envy  of  his  superior.3  His  first  essay 
was  the  composition  of  ninety-five 
short  theses  on  the  nature  of  indul- 


gences and  the  errors  of  the  questors ; 
which  he  inclosed  in  a  letter  to  the 
archbishop,  with  a  significant  hint, 
that  unless  that  prelate  interposed 
to  remedy  the  abuse,  some  orthodox 
writer  would  reluctantly  come  for- 
ward to  expose  the  falsehood  of  the 
doctrines  publicly  taught  under  the 
sanction  of  his  authority.  But  his 
ardour  in  the  cause  did  not  allow 
him  to  wait  for  an  answer.  The 
same  day  or  next  morning  he  affixed 
his  theses  to  the  great  door  of  the 
church  of  Wittemberg;  then  main- 
tained them  publicly  from  the  pul- 
pit; and  afterwards  dispersed  them 
in  printed  copies  through  the 
chief  cities  of  Germany.  These  cele- 
brated propositions  had  been  selected 
with  much  care  and  ingenuity. 
Though  in  most  points  they  receded 
from  the  more  common  opinion?, 
there  were  few  among  them  which 
could  not  claim  the  patronage  of 
some  orthodox  writer ;  and  for  greater 
security  they  were  brought  forward 
not  as  incontestable  doctrines,  but 
as  mere  doubts,  which  had  suggested 
themselves  to  the  mind  of  the  pro- 
fessor, and  which  he  submitted  to 
discussion  for  the  sole  purpose  of  dis- 
covering and  establishing  the  truth. 
They  moreover  possessed  another 
recommendation  to  popularity ;  they 
were  seasoned  with  bold  and  repeated 
sarcasms  againts  the  insatiate  rapacity 
of  the  court  of  Rome,  and  the  personal 
avarice  of  the  collectors.4 
The  Dominican  friars  were  alarmed 


1  Luther,  i.    1,   157. — Erasmus  says,   de 
indulgentiis  sic  loquebantur  ut  nee  idiotae 

ferre  possent Haec,  opinor,  moverunt 

animum    Lutheri,    ut    priraum  auderet  se 
quorundam  intolerabili   impudentiae  oppo- 
ncre.— Ep.  ad  Alb.  Mag.  Archiep.  p.  422. 

2  Compare  the  letter  of  Luther  to  Stau- 
pitz, with  that  of  Staupitz  to  Spalatin.— 
Luth.  Oper.  i.  64,  323.     Pallav.  i.  82.    Spon- 
dan.  ad  ann.  1517.  That  the  office  was  taken 
from   the   Augustiniana    and   given   to   the 
Dominicans,  is  not    true.    It    had   before 
been  executed  by  the  latter,  and  the  friars 
Minors. — Pallav.  i.  52,  57.     But  many  attri- 
buted   tho    controversy    to    the    jealousy 


between  the  two  orders,  as  Leo  himself 
(Bandello,  par.  iii.  novel.  25) ;  Valdez  (apud 
Pet.  Mart.  380),  and  Cochloeus  (apud  Ray 
nald.viii.  p.  237). 

3  Luther  in  his  letter  to  the  pope  attri- 
buted his  opposiiion  to  zeal,  or  the  warmth 
of  youth  :  pro  zelo  Christi  sicuti  mihi  vide 
b-ir,  ant,  si  ita  placet,  pro  juveuih'  calore, 
quo  tirebar. — Luth.  j.  65. 

*  Amore  et  studio  elucidandae  veritatn 
baec  suhscripta  themata  disputabuntur  \Vit- 
tembergte,  praesidente  R.  P.  Marlino  Ln- 
thero,  Eremitano  Augustano,  Artium  et 
S.  Theologia;  Majristro,  ejnsdern  ibidem 
ordinario  lectore.  — Lath.  Op.  i.  2.  Wbocvi-i 


222 


HENRY  VIII. 


|"CHAr.  VIL 


and  exasperated  at  the  opposition  of 
Luther.  They  refuted  his  theses 
with  warmth,  and  were  answered  by 
him  with  greater  warmth.  The  con- 
troversy soon  attracted  public  notice 
throughout  Germany  and  the  neigh- 
bouring countries.  Some  hailed  the 
attempt  of  Luther  as  the  prelude  to  a 
reformation  of  abuses ;  many  began 
to  tremble  for  the  unity  of  the  church ; 
and  others  amused  themselves  with 
observing  the  arts  and  the  vehemence 
of  the  contending  parties.  In  the 
latter  class,  if  credit  be  due  to  the 
novelist  Bandello,  we  must  place 
Leo  himself,  who  admired  the  talents 
of  Martin,  and  is  said  to  have 
viewed  with  indifference  the  rise  of 
the  quarrel  between  him  and  his 
opponents.1 

Luther,  however,  aware  that  he  had 
given  cause  of  oflbnce,  and  appre- 
hensive of  the  resentment  of  the  pon- 
tiff, thought  it  prudent  to  address  to 
him  a  most  submissive  letter,  con- 
cluding with  these  words :  "  Where- 
fore, most  holy  father,  I  throw  myself 
prostrate  at  your  feet  with  all  that  I 
have  or  am.  My  life  and  death  are 
in  your  hands.  Call  or  recall  me, 
approve  or  condemn  me,  as  you  please. 
I  shall  acknowledge  your  voice  as  the 
voice  of  Christ,  who  presides  and 
speaks  in  your  person."2  He  may 
have  been  sincere  in  these  profes- 
sions ;  but  they  were  only  the  passing 
effusions  of  the  moment.  The  new 
apostle  soon  reverted  to  his  former 
course,  extending  his  researches  from 
indulgences  to  other  articles  of  the 


examines  these  propositions,  or  the  dispute 
to  which  they  gave  birth,  will  plainly  see 
that  no  divines  taught,  as  they  are  some- 
times supposed  to  have  done,  that  indul- 
gences "  were  remissions  of  sin,  on  payment 
of  a  sum  of  money,  according  to  a  fixed 
table  of  rates,"  much  less  that  they  were 
"remissions  of  sin  not  yet  committed." 

1  Che  fra  Martino  aveva  bellissimo  in- 
gegno,  et  che  coteste  erano  invidie  fratesche. 
— Bandello,  par  iii.  novel.  25. 

8  Quare,  beatissime  pater,  prostratum  me 
pedibus  tu»  beatitudinia  offero  cum  omni- 


established  creed,  and  displaying  a 
marked  partiality  for  such  opinions  as 
were  most  calculated  to  shock  the 
feelings  and  confound  the  notions  of 
men.  At  Heidelberg,  he  maintained, 
both  in  word  and  writing,  that  by  the 
fall  of  Adam,  man  has  been  deprived 
of  the  use  of  free  will;  that  faith 
alone  is  sufficient  for  salvation;  and 
that  the  best  of  our  actions  are  of 
their  own  nature  grievous  offences.3 
The  auditor  of  the  papal  court,  the 
bishop  of  Ascoli,  had  already  cited 
him  to  appear  at  Rome  within  sixty 
days ;  but,  when  he  heard  of  Luther's 
conduct  at  Heidelberg,  he  pronounced 
him  a  heretic  without  waiting  for  the 
expiration  of  that  term.  Tommaso 
di  Vio,  commonly  called  Cardinal 
Cajetan,  the  legate  in  Germany,  was 
ordered  at  the  same  time  to  sum- 
mon the  new  preacher  before  his 
tribunal,  and  to  absolve  him  if  he 
showed  signs  of  repentance,  but 
otherwise  to  keep  him  in  safe  cus- 
tody till  instructions  should  arrive 
from  Home.4 

Luther  now  began  to  betray  symp- 
toms of  terror.  He  petitioned  that 
his  cause  might  be  heard  in  Ger- 
many, and  not  at  Rome  ;  he  procured 
a  testimonial  in  favour  of  his  morals 
and  orthodoxy  from  the  university  of 
Wittemberg ;  and  he  earnestly  soli- 
cited the  elector  to  antedate  and  sign 
a  paper,  containing  a  fictitious  refusal 
of  a  passport,  that  the  professor  might 
exhibit  it  as  a  proof  of  his  willing- 
ness to  obey  the  citation,  had  he  not 
been  prohibited  by  his  sovereign.* 


bus  quse  sum  et  habeo.  Vivifica,  occide; 
voca,  revoca ;  approba,  reproba,  nt  pla- 
cuerit.  Vocem  tnam,  vocem  Christ!  in  te 
prsesidentis  et  loquentia  agnoscam. — Luth. 
Op.  i.  68.  3  Luth.  Op.  i.  24—27. 

*  Luther  complains  that  sentence  had 
been  pronounced  before  the  expiration  of 
the  sixty  days;  but  he  seems  to  have  for- 
gotten that  in  the  meanwhile  he  had  main- 
tained other  doctrines  at  Heidelberg,  which 
had  been  already  declared  heretical.  To> 
these  Leo  alludes  in  his  letter.— Ibid.  161. 

8  Luth.  Ep.  i.  65.    Apud  Pallav.  i.  68. 


A.D.  1518.]        LUTHER  PROTECTED  BY  FREDERIC. 


But  the  sophisms  with  which  he 
laboured  to  justify  the  falsehood 
did  not  satisfy  the  conscience  of 
Frederic,  who,  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  diet,  compelled  Luther  to 
proceed  to  Augsburg.  Contrary  to 
his  expectations,  he  was  received 
with  kindness,  almost  with  respect ;' 
but  all  his  artifices  to  inveigle  the 
cardinal  into  a  verbal  controversy 
were  useless.  Cajetan  replied  that 
he  had  no  commission  to  dispute. 
As  a  friend,  he  would  admonish 
Luther  to  retract  his  errors  ;  as  a 
father,  he  was  ready  to  receive  a 
repentant  son.  At  the  close  of  their 
third  meeting,  Cajetan,  Staupitz  the 
vicar,  Lintz  the  confidential  friend  of 
Luther,  and  Urbano  the  envoy  from 
Montserrat,  spent  some  hours  in 
private  consultation,  and  at  length 
concluded  an  arrangement,  which  it 
was  presumed  "  would  put  an  end  to 
the  scandal,  without  compromising 
the  honour  of  the  Holy  See,  or  the 
character  of  the  professor."  But  the 
credulity  of  the  cardinal  was  deceived 
by  the  insincerity  of  the  opposite  party. 
Though  Lintz  returned  to  announce 
that  the  arrangement  was  satisfactory 
to  Luther,  though  Luther  himself 
wrote  a  letter  expressing  his  regret 
for  the  offence  which  he  had  given, 
promising  to  remain  silent  if  his  ene- 
mies would  permit  him,  and  request- 
ing that  the  points  in  dispute  might 
be  referred  to  the  judgment  of  the 
pontiff,  yet  a  contrary  resolution  was 
soon  afterwards  taken;  Staupitz  se- 
cretly departed  from  Augsburg  in  the 
evening,  and  the  professor  followed 
the  next  morning,  leaving  a  second 


1  Susceptus  fui  satis  clementer,  ac  prope 
reTcrentius. — Luth.  Op.  i.  164. 

2  We   have  two   accounts   of  the   trans- 
actions at  Augsburg,  one  by  Luther,  who 
.abonrs   to  justify  himself  (Op.   i.   164,   et 
eeq.),  and  another  by  the  cardinal  in  a  letter 
of  complaint  to  the  elector.    Jactis  his  fun- 
damentis,  cum  bene  sperarem  onmia,  mibi, 
imo  sibi,  perbelle  illuserunt.    Fraudulentum 
Martini  et  sequacium  consilium  obstupui. — 
Ibid.  17*. 


letter  for  the  cardinal,  in  which  he 
refused  to  make  any  recantation,  but 
still  avowed  his  readiness  to  submit 
to  the  decision  of  the  Holy  See.2 

The  partisans  of  Luther  had  awaited 
with  anxiety  the  issue  of  the  meeting ; 
they  hailed  as  a  triumph  his  safe  and 
speedy  return  to  Wittemberg.  Caje- 
tan complained  in  vain  of  the  decep- 
tion which  had  been  practised  upon 
him,  and  solicited  the  elector  to  send 
the  refractory  professor  to  Rome,  or 
at  least  to  banish  him  from  his  terri- 
tories. Frederic  replied,  that  justice 
forbade  him  to  punish  before  con- 
viction, and  that  his  ^egard  for  the 
university  would  not  allow  him  to 
deprive  Wittemberg  of  its  brightest 
ornament.  It  has  been  thought  that 
the  last  reason  weighed  more  with 
the  elector  than  he  was  willing  to 
admit.  That  school  of  learning  had 
been  founded  by  his  care  and  muni- 
ficence ;  he  had  established  the  laws 
by  which  it  was  governed ;  the  pro- 
fessors were  of  his  own  choice;  and 
by  the  union  of  polite  literature  with 
the  study  of  law,  philosophy,  and 
theology,  it  had  already  acquired  a 
superiority  over  the  more  ancient 
universities.  The  novelties  of  Luther, 
instead  of  repelling,  attracted  stu- 
dents ;  and  Frederic  was  proud  of 
thft  man  whose  reputation  added  to 
the  prosperity  of  his  favourite  estab- 
lishment. In  this  disposition  of  mind 
he  was  easily  led  to  believe  that  the 
opposition  to  the  professor  sprung 
not  from  any  zeal  for  truth,  but  from 
resentment  for  the  loss  of  those  gains 
which  had  formerly  enriched  his 
adversaries.3 


3  Pelleretur  enim  incommode  nostrae 
universitatis Exceptis  nonnullis,  quo- 
rum rei  privatse  et  utilitati  pecuniari» 
eruditio  ejus  non  proflcit,  qui,  ut  proprise 
commoditati  consulerent,  Martino  sese  ad- 
versaries opposuerunt,  suo  tamen  propositp 
contra  Martinum  nondum  probato. — Op.  i. 
169.  It  is  also  observed  by  Valdez  (Pet. 
Mart.  Ep.  p.  381),  that  Frederic  was  the 
personal  enemy  of  the  archbishop,  and 
therefore  had  forbidden  the  produce  of  ths- 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  Tir. 


By  this  time  Leo  had  published  a 
bull  declaratory  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Roman  church  respecting  indul- 
gences, the  original  subject  of  the 
controversy.  Though  it  does  not 
mention  Luther  by  name,  it  is  evi- 
dently pointed  against  his  assertions. 
It  teaches  that  the  pope,  as  successor  of 
St.  Peter,  and  the  vicar  of  Christ  upon 
earth,  possesses  the  power  of  granting 
for  reasonable  causes  certain  indul- 
gences in  favour  of  such  of  the  faithful 
as  are  in  a  state  of  grace,  whether 
they  be  alive  or  dead,  for  the  remis- 
sion of  the  temporal  punishment  due 
on  account  of  actual  sin.  This  bull, 
which  probably  was  issued  in  conse- 
quence of  the  arrangement  concluded 
at  Augsburg,  probed  the  sincerity  of 
Luther  to  the  quick.  He  had  pro- 
mised to  accept  the  decision  of  the 
pontiff,  whether  it  approved  or  con- 
demned his  doctrine.  That  prelate 
had  now  spoken,  and  the  decision 
was  unfavourable ;  but  the  professor, 
forgetful  of  his  former  protestations, 
instead  of  submitting,  appealed  by  a 
formal  instrument,  from  the  pope  ill- 
informed,  to  a  general  council.1 

He  had  hitherto  been  checked  in 
his  career  by  his  apprehensions  of 
the  emperor  Maximilian ;  the  timely 
but  unexpected  death  of  that  prince 
added  to  his  security,  and  encouraged 
his  confidence.  During  the  vacancy, 
his  patron,  the  elector,  exercised,  as 
hereditary  vicar,  the  imperial  autho- 
rity. Under  his  protection  the  "Wit- 
temberg  professor  continued  to  make 
discoveries ;  he  plunged  fearlessly  into 
the  fathomless  abyss  of  grace,  free- 


will, and  predestination ;  as  if  he 
sought  to  perpetuate  division,  he  in- 
vented new  terms  for  his  doctrines, 
in  opposition  to  those  which  had  been 
consecrated  by  the  use  of  ages ;  and 
he  evidently  laboured  to  subvert  the 
foundations  of  the  existing  church, 
that  he  might  raise  another  on  its 
ruins.  Nor  will  the  project  appear 
extravagant,  if  we  consider  the  causes 
which  concurred  to  give  encourage- 
ment to  his  views,  and  to  swell  the 
number  of  his  well-wishers. 

1.  There  existed  in  Germany  a  very 
prevalent  feeling  of  disaffection  to  the 
see  of  Rome.    The  violent  contests 
between  the  popes  and  the  emperors 
in  former  times  had  left  a  germ  of 
discontent,  which  required  but  little 
aid  to  shoot  into  open  hostility ;  and 
the  minds  of  men  had  of  late  years 
been  embittered  by  frequent  but  use- 
less complaints  of  the  expedients  de- 
vised by  the  papal  court  to  fill  its 
treasury  at  the  expense  of  the  natives. 

2.  The  chief  of  the  German  prelates 
were  at  the  same  time  secular  princes ; 
and,  as  they  had  been  promoted  more 
on  account  of  their  birth  than  of  their 
merit,  they  frequently  seemed  to  merge 
their  spiritual  in  their  temporal  cha- 
racter.   Hence   they   neglected   the 
episcopal  functions ;  the  clergy,  almost 
free  from  restraint,  became  illiterate 
and  immoral ;  and  the  people,  ceasing 
to  respect  those  whom  they  could  not 
esteem,  inveighed  against  the  riches 
of  the  church,  complained  of  the  seve- 
rity with  which  the  clerical  dues  were 
exacted  in  the  spiritual  courts,  and 
loudly  called  for  the  removal  of  many 


indulgences  to  be  forwarded  to  him.  Hence 
it  was  suspected  by  many,  and  asserted  by 
the  duke  of  Brunswick,  that  Luther  had 
been  originally  selected  to  oppose  the  indul- 
gences by  the  ministers  of  Frederic.  The 
assertion  is  denied  by  Melancthon  in  the 
preface  to  Luther's  works,  torn.  ii.  p.  6. 

1  Expectans,  accepturusque  quidquid  sive 
dam n an ti  sive  approbanti  visum  fuerit. — 
Oct.  18.  Oper.  i.  170.  Yet  it  is  plain  that 
his  many  and  strong  asseverations  of  respect 
and  obedience  were  feigned  to  serve  his 


present  purpose.  For  at  the  same  time  he 
wrote  from  Augsburg  to  Melancthon  :  Italia 
esc  in  Egypti  tenebras  palpabiles  projecta ; 
adeo  ignorant  omnes  Chnstum  et  ea  quaj 
Christi  sunt.  Hos  tamen  dominos  et  magis- 
tros  habemus  fidei  et  morum  !  Sic  impletnr 
ira  Dei  super  nos. — Oct.  11,  p.  163.  He 
afterwards  apologised  to  his  disciples  for 
having  used  such  respectful  expressions, 
attributing  them  partly  to  civility,  and 
partly  to  his  false  persuasion  of  the  papal 
supremacy. 


.  1520.] 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


real  or  imaginary  grievances,  which 
arose  from  the  demands  of  the  popes 
and  the  exercise  of  the  episcopal  juris- 
diction, and  which  for  years  had  been 
the  subject  of  consultations,  of  re- 
monstrances, and  even  of  menaces. 
These  attempts  had  indeed  failed ; 
but  the  success  of  Luther  revived  the 
hopes  of  the  discontented ;  and  thou- 
sands ranged  themselves  under  the 
banner  of  the  innovator,  without  any 
idea  of  trenching  on  the  ancient  faith, 
and  led  solely  by  the  hope  of  reform- 
ing abuses.1 

3.  The  recent  invention  of  printing, 
by  multiplying  the  copies  of  books 
and  the  number  of  readers,  had  given 
a  new  and  extraordinary  impulse  to 
the  powers  and  passions  of  men,  who 
began  to  conceive  that  their  ancestors 
had  been  kept  not  only  in  intellectual 
but  also  in  civil  thraldom.  Works, 
descriptive  of  their  rights,  were  cir- 
culated and  read  with  avidity;  the 
oppression  exercised  by  their  rulers, 
and  the  redress  of  their  grievances, 
became  the  ordinary  topics  of  conver- 
sation ;  and  the  inferior  nobles  in 
each  state  laboured  to  emancipate 
themselves  from  the  control  of  their 
princes,  and  to  establish  their  de- 
pendence on  the  empire  alone.  All 
Germany  was  in  a  ferment ;  and 
Luther  converted  the  general  feeling 
to  his  own  purpose  with  admirable 
address.  They  contended  for  civil,  lie 
for  religious  liberty.  Both  had  a 
similar  object  in  view;  both  ought  to 
support  each  other.  The  titles  which 
he  gave  to  his  works  aided  his  pur 
pose.  He  wrote  of  "  Christian  Free- 
dom," and  against  the  "Bondage  of 
Babylon;"  liberty  was  constantly  in 
his  mouth  and  in  his  writings ;  and 
he  solemnly  protested  that  his  only 
object  was  to  free  mankind  from  the 


1  yisu3  est  Lutherus  etiam  plerisque  v 
gravibus  et  eruditis  non  pessimo  zelo  mo- 
veri ;  planeque  nihil  spectare  aliud  quam 
ecclesiae  reformationem.— Sor.  Comment,  ad 


ntolerable  despotism  of  the  church  of 
Home.2  These  arts  wrought  the  de- 
sired effect ;  and,  though  at  first  few 
of  the  princes  became  proselytes,  the 
great  body  of  the  German  nobles 
pplauded  and  seconded  his  attempts 
4.  Since  the  revival  of  letters,  there 
lad  risen  in  Germany  a  numerous 
body  of  scholars  called  Humanists, 
who  devoted  themselves  to  the  study 
of  the  classics,  and  exercised  an  ex- 
tensive sway  over  the  public  mind. 
The  bitterest  enmity  had  for  some 
years  existed  between  them  and  the 
theologians ;  and  the  opprobrious 
terms  of  "barbarian  and  infidel'* 
were  the  appellations  by  which  the 
combatants  usually  distinguished  each 
other.  But  of  all  the  theologians,  the 
Dominican  friars  were  peculiar  (b- 
jects  of  hatred  and  ridicule  to  tne 
Humanists,  because  the  former,  as 
censors  of  books,  frequently  sup- 
pressed or  corrected  the  works  of  the 
latter.  Hence  these,  almost  without 
exception,  professed  themselves  the 
admirers  of  Luther,  and  enjoyed  the 
distress  to  which  the  new  preacher 
often  reduced  his  antagonists.  As 
the  Humanists  alone  possessed  the 
charms  of  style,  their  works  in  his 
favour  were  generally  read ;  while 
the  writings  of  the  theologians,  com- 
posed in  the  uninviting  language  or 
the  schools,  were  seldom  perused,  and 
still  more  rarely  understood.  More- 
over, the  press  was  entirely  at  their 
command ;  and  we  are  assured  that  it 
was  with  difficulty  the  opponents  of 
Luther  could  find  a  printer  to  publish 
their  works.3  Even  the  great  scholars, 
who  were  cherished  by  the  patronage 
of  Leo,  remained  for  years  indifferent 
spectators  of  the  dispute ;  nor  was  it 
till  experience  convinced  them  of 
their  own  imprudence,  that  they  con- 


ann.  1517.          8  Luth.  Op.  i.  387 ;  ii.  259. 

»  Erasmi  Ep.  p.  128,  334,  350,  642,  774. 
Coohlseus,  de  Act.  et  Scrip.  Lutheri,  o.  in. 
Pallav.  i.  130, 131. 


HESRY  VIII. 


LCHAP.  yn. 


descended  to  engage  in  the  contest, 
when  it  was  too  late  to  arrest  the 
progress  of  their  adversary. 

Lastly,  the  politicians  at  Home 
accused  the  tardiness  and  irresolution 
of  Leo  himself,  who  for  two  years  had 
Buffered  the  innovator  to  brave  the 
papal  authority,  without  taking  any 
decisive  step  to  punish  his  presump- 
tion. Even  after  the  departure  of 
Cajetan,  when  all  hopes  of  an  accom- 
modation had  vanished,  the  pope, 
whether  he  listened  to  the  timidity 
of  his  temper,  or  thought  that  the 
Btorm  might  be  allayed  by  gentleness, 
commissioned  Miltitz,  a  Saxon  noble- 
man, to  bring  Luther  back  to  his 
duty  by  persuasion  and  promises. 
Miltitz  exhorted  and  advised;  but 
his  arguments  seemed  to  confirm  the 
obstinacy  of  the  friar;  and  the  fre- 
quency of  their  convivial  meetings 
provoked  a  suspicion  that  the  envoy 
betrayed  the  trust  which  had  been 
reposed  in  him  by  the  pontiff.  At 
length,  by  orders  from  Rome,  he  sum- 
moned the  superiors  of  the  Augusti- 
nian  friars  to  reclaim  or  coerce  their 
disobedient  brother;  and  Luther,  pre- 
tending to  yield  to  their  remonstrances, 
wrote  a  long  letter  to  the  pontiff. 
IN  ever  perhaps  was  there  a  more  sar- 
castic or  more  insulting  composition. 
Affecting  to  commiserate  the  condi- 
tion of  Leo,  whom  he  describes  as 
seated  in  the  midst  of  the  abomina- 
tions of  Babylon,  he  takes  occasion 
to  hurl  in  his  face  every  irritating 
charge,  whether  founded  or  un- 
founded, that  had  ever  been  invented 
by  the  enemies  of  the  Holy  See. 
After  this  defiance,  to  temporize  had 
been  to  confess  weakness;  and  Leo 
published  a  bull  in  which  he  stigma- 
tized forty-one  propositions  as  false, 
scandalous,  or  heretical ;  asserted 
'that  these  propositions  were  con- 
tained in  the  works  lately  written  by 


Luther ;  allowed  him  sixty  days  to 
retract  his  errors ;  and  pronounced 
dim  excommunicate  if  he  continued 
obstinate  after  the  expiration  of  that 
term.  But  success  and  impunity  had 
baught  the  reformer  to  deride  the 
authority  before  which  he  had 
formerly  trembled.  He  appealed 
from  "the  impious  judge,  the  apos- 
tate, the  antichrist,  the  blasphemer 
of  the  divine  word,"  to  the  more 
equitable  decision  of  a  general  coun- 
cil; and  having  called  an  assembly  of 
the  inhabitants  of  "Wittemberg,  lea 
them  to  a  funeral  pile  erected  with- 
out the  walls,  and  with  much  solem- 
nity cast  into  the  flames  the  books  of 
the  canon  law,  the  works  of  Eccius 
and  Emser,  his  chief  antagonists,  and 
the  bull  of  Pope  Leo  against  himself, 
exclaiming  in  a  tone  of  fanaticism, 
Because  ye  have  troubled  the  holy 
of  the  Lord,  ye  shall  be  burnt  with 
everlasting  fire."2 

War  was  now  openly  declared ;  and 
each  party  laboured  to  secure  the 
friendship  of  the  new  emperor.  The 
elector  Frederic,  to  whom  that  prince 
lay  under  the  greatest  obligations, 
exerted  all  his  influence  in  favour 
of  his  friend;  and  Luther  himself, 
to  alienate  the  inexperienced  mind  of 
Charles  from  the  see  of  Rome,  ad- 
dressed to  him  an  historical  treatise, 
in  which  he  artfully  exaggerated  the 
many  injuries  which  the  different 
pontiffs  had  inflicted  on  the  empire, 
and  exhorted  him  to  vindicate  the 
honour  of  the  imperial  crown  from 
the  usurpations  of  a  foreign  priest. 
Erasmus,  the  leader  of  the  Humanists, 
was  employed  to  sound  and  prepare 
the  emperor's  advisers ;  and  Hutten 
by  successive  satires  and  caricatures 
was  careful  to  entertain  and  quicken 
the  ferment  in  the  public  mind.  On 
the  other  side,  Leo  sent  to  the  court, 
as  nuncio  for  religious  matters,  Giro- 


Luth.  Op.  a.  385. 


2  Luth.  Op.  i.  316,  320.  423     Sleidan,  15, 
22,25.    Argentor.  1556. 


A.D.  1521.]         HENRY  WRITES  AGAINST  LUTHER. 


227 


lamo  Aleandro,  prefect  of  the  Vatican 
library,  a  minister  of  eminent  talents 
and  indefatigable  industry.  Threats, 
and  insults,  and  violence,  were  em- 
ployed in  vain  to  deter  him  from  the 
performance  of  his  duty.  He  followed 
Charles  to  the  diet  at  Worms,  re- 
marked in  his  speech  to  the  princes 
that  they  were  deceived,  if  they 
thought  the  present  a  mere  contest 
for  jurisdiction  and  privileges ;  read 
from  the  works  of  Luther  the  most 
objectionable  passages,  and  showed 
that  they  were  contrary  to  the  de- 
cisions of  the  council  of  Constance,  a 
council  held  in  the  highest  veneration 
by  the  national  partiality  of  the  Ger- 
mans.1 This  speech  made  a  deep  and 
powerful  impression;  but  the  reformer 
was  preserved  from  immediate  con- 
demnation by  the  address  of  his  patron 
the  elector,  who  moved  that  he  might 
be  examined  in  person,  not  as  to  the 
truth  or  falsehood  of  his  doctrine,  but 
as  to  the  fact  of  his  being  the  real 
author  of  the  works  published  under 
his  name.  At  his  first  appearance  he 
acknowledged  the  passages  objected 
to  him,  but  was  not  prepared  to  say 
whether  he  still  maintained  the  same 
doctrines.  At  his  second,  he  first  em- 
ployed evasions,  then  burst  into  intem- 
perate sallies  against  his  polemical 
adversaries  and  the  court  of  Rome, 
and  at  last  took  refuge  within  his 
favourite  asylum,  the  assertion  that 
conscience  forbade  him  to  retract, 
till  he  were  convinced  that  his 
opinion  was  contrary  to  the  word 
of  God.  Charles  eyed  him  with 
eagerness  during  the  conference ; 
there  was  something  in  the  cast  of 
his  features,  and  the  vehemence  of 
his  manner,  which  created  a  strong 
prejudice  against  him ;  and  the  young 
emperor,  turning  to  his  confidants, 
whispered,  "  that  such  a  man  would 
never  seduce  him  from  the  faith  of 
his  fathers." 


During  some  days  attempts  were 
made  to  mollify  the  obstinacy  of 
Luther ;  at  length  he  was  ordered 
to  quit  the  city  under  a  safe-conduct 
for  the  space  of  three  weeks ;  and 
after  some  delay  a  decree  was  pub- 
lished against  him,  ordering  tie 
seizure  of  his  person,  forbidding 
any  prince  to  harbour  or  protect 
him,  and  prohibiting  the  publication 
of  writings  on  doctrinal  matters  with- 
out the  previous  approbation  of  the 
ordinary.  But  the  reformer  had 
already  provided  for  his  own  se- 
curity. On  the  third  day  after  his 
departure  from  Worms  he  returned 
the  safe-conduct  to  the  imperial  mes- 
senger at  Friedberg,  and  proceeded  to 
Eisenach  under  the  protection  of  a 
party  of  his  own  friends  on  horse- 
back. There  he  dismissed  the  greater 
number,  and  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Thuringian  forest,  near  Altenstein, 
ordered  the  remainder  to  go  before 
and  prepare  lodgings.  In  a  few 
minutes  two  noblemen,  in  the  con- 
fidence of  the  elector,  rode  up  to  the 
carriage  in  masks,  took  him  out,  as 
it  were  by  force,  disguised  him  as  a 
soldier,  and  led  him  on  horseback  to 
Wartburg,  a  solitary  castle  situate  at 
a  distance  in  the  mountains.  The 
place  of  his  concealment  was  kept 
a  profound  secret  both  from  his 
friends  and  his  enemies ;  but  he 
continued  to  animate  the  former 
by  his  writings ;  while  the  latter 
found  themselves  repeatedly  assailed 
by  their  indefatigable  but  invisible 
adversary.2 

Detailed  accounts  of  all  these  trans- 
actions had  been  carefully  transmitted 
to  England  by  the  royal  agents.  Wol- 
sey,  by  his  office  of  legate,  was  bound 
to  oppose  the  new  doctrines ;  and 
Henry,  who  had  applied  to  the  school 
divinity,  attributed  their  diffusion  in 
Germany  to  the  supine  ignorance  of 
the  native  princes.  By  a  letter  to 


*  Pallav.  i.  124-157. 

8  Luth.  Op.  ii.  411—416. 


1.  27—29, 


31.      Pallay.    i.    152—171.      Kaynaid,    Vui. 
321. 


228 


HENRY  VIII. 


.  VII. 


Charles  he  had  already  evinced  his 
hostility  to  doctrinal  innovation  ;  but 
it  was  deemed  prudent  to  abstain 
from  any  public  declaration  till  the 
future  decision  of  the  diet  could  be 
conjectured  with  some  degree  of  cer- 
tainty. Then  the  legate,  attended  by 
the  other  prelates,  and  the  papal  and 
imperial  ambassadors,  proceeded  to 
St.  Paul's;  the  bishop  of  Rochester 
preached  from  the  cross  ;  and  the 
works  of  Luther,  condemned  by  the 
pontiff,  were  burnt  in  the  presence  of 
the  multitude.1  Ever  since  the  mid- 
dle of  the  last  reign,  classical  learning 
had  become  the  favourite  pursuit  of 
the  English  scholars,  who  naturally 
leagued  with  their  brother  Humanists 
on  the  continent,  and  read  with  eager- 
ness the  writings,  if  they  did  not  adopt 
the  opinions,  of  the  reformer  and  his 
disciples.  But  the  cardinal  now  or- 
dered every  obnoxious  publication  to 
be  delivered  up  within  a  fortnight, 
and  commissioned  the  bishops  to 
punish  the  refractory  with  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication.2  Henry 
himself  was  anxious  to  enter  the  lists 
against  the  German ;  nor  did  "Wolsey 
discourage  the  attempt,  under  the 
idea  that  pride  no  less  than  convic- 
tion would  afterwards  bind  the  royal 
polemic  to  the  suj^rt  of  the  ancient 
creed.  That  the  treatise  in  defence 
of  the  seven  sacraments,  which  the 
king  published,  was  his  own  com- 
position, is  forcibly  asserted  by  him- 
self; that  it  was  planned,  revised,  and 
improved  by  the  superior  judgment 
of  the  cardinal  and  the  bishop  of 
Rochester,  was  the  opinion  of  the 
public.3  Clarke,  dean  of  "Windsor, 
carried  the  royal  production  to  Rome, 
and  in  a  full  consistory  submitted  it 


to  the  inspection  and  approbation  of 
the  pontiff,  with  an  assurance,  that 
as  his  master  had  refuted  the  errors 
of  Luther  with  his  pen,  so  was  he 
ready  to  oppose  the  disciples  of  the 
heresiarch  with  his  sword,  and  to 
array  against  them  the  whole  strength 
of  his  kingdom.  Clement  accepted 
the  present  with  many  expressions 
of  admiration  and  gratitude ;  but 
Henry  looked  for  something  more 
pleasing  to  his  vanity  than  mere  ac- 
knowledgments. The  kings  of  France 
had  long  been  distinguished  by  the 
appellation  of  "most  Christian,"  those 
of  Spain  by  that  of  "Catholic."  When 
Louis  XII.  set  up  the  schismatical 
synod  of  Pisa,  it  was  contended  that 
he  had  forfeited  his  right  to  the 
former  of  these  titles ;  and  Julius  II. 
transferred  it  to  Henry,  but  with  the 
understanding  that  the  transfer  should 
be  kept  secret  till  the  services  of  the 
king  might  justify  in  the  eyes  of  men 
the  partiality  of  the  pontiff.  After 
the  victory  at  Guinegate,  Henry  de- 
manded the  publication  of  the  grant ; 
but  Julius  was  dead ;  Leo  declared 
himself  ignorant  of  the  transaction  ; 
and  means  were  found  to  pacify  the 
king  with  the  promise  of  some  other, 
but  equivalent,  distinction.  Wolsey 
had  lately  recalled  the  subject  to 
the  attention  of  the  papal  court ; 
and  Clarke,  when  he  presented  the 
king's  work,  demanded  for  him  the 
title  of  "  defender  of  the  faith."  This 
new  denomination  experienced  some 
opposition ;  but  it  could  not  be  re- 
fused with  decency;  and  Leo  con- 
ferred it  by  a  formal  bull  on  Henry, 
who  procured  a  confirmation  of  the 
grant  from  the  successor  of  Leo, 
Clement  VII.4 


i  Vitell.  B.  4,  p.  9.     *  Wilk.  Con.  iii.  690. 

3  Sir  Thomas  More  confirms  this  opinion 
by  saying,  that  "  by  his  grace's  appoint- 
ment, and  consent  'of  the  makers  of  the 
xame,  he  was  only  a  sorter  out  and  placer  of 
the  principal  matters  therein  contained." — 
Jee  a  note  on  this  subject  by  Mr.  Bruce, 
Arch.  xxiv.  67. 


4  See  Asaertio  septem  Sacramentorum 
adversus  Martinum  Luthernm,  edita  ab  in- 
victissimo  Anglise  et  Franciae  rege,  et  do- 
mino Hibernise,  Henrico  ejus  nominis  octavo. 
It  was  published  in  London,  1521 ;  Antwerp, 
1522 ;  and  Borne,  1543.  And  for  the  king's 
title,  Pallavicino,  177,  and  Rymer,  xiii.  756 ; 
xiv.  13.  It  should  be  observed,  that  iu 


A.D.  1525.  j 


LUTHER'S  APOLOGY  TO  HENRY  . 


Whatever  knowledge  the  German 
reformer  might  possess  of  the  doc- 
trines, his  writings  displayed  little 
of  the  mild  spirit  of  the  gospel.  In 
his  answer  to  the  king  of  England, 
the  intemperance  of  his  declamation 
scandalized  his  friends,  while  it  gave 
joy  to  his  enemies.  To  the  king  he 
allotted  no  other  praise  than  that  of 
writing  in  elegant  language;  in  all 
other  respects  he  was  a  fool  and  an 
ass,  a  blasphemer  and  a  liar.1  Henry 
complained  to  Luther's  patron  the 
elector ;  the  German  princes  con- 
sidered the  work  as  an  insult  to 
crowned  heads;  and  at  the  earnest 
entreaty  of  Christian,  king  of  Den- 
mark, Luther  condescended  to  write 
an  apology.  In  it  he  supposes  that 
the  "Defence  of  the  Seven  Sacra- 
ments" had  been  falsely  attributed 
to  Henry ;  offers  to  acknowledge  his 
error,  and  to  publish  a  book  in  the 
king's  praise ;  paints  in  seductive  co- 
lours the  purity  and  holiness  of  his 
own  doctrine ;  and  takes  occasion  to 
inveigh  against  the  tyranny  of  the 
popes,  and  against  that  bane  of  Eng- 
land, the  cardinal  of  York.*  Such  an 
apology  was  not  likely  to  appease  the 
mind  of  Henry,  who  was  proud  of  his 
work,  and  attached  to  his  minister; 
and  the  assertion  that  the  king  began 
to  favour  the  new  gospel,  provoked 


him  to  publish  a  severe  but  dignified 
answer.  In  it  he  openly  avows  him- 
self  to  be  the  author  of  the  tract 
printed  with  his  name,  and  expresses 
his  esteem  for  "Wolsey,  whom  he  al- 
ways loved,  but  whom  he  shall  now 
love  much  more,  since  he  has  been 
honoured  with  the  abuse  of  one  who 
never  spared  exalted  worth  either 
in  the  living  or  the  dead.  He  then 
argues  that,  if  the  tree  may  be  known 
by  its  fruits,  the  pride  and  passion, 
the  lust  and  debauchery,  of  the  new 
apostle,  prove  that  he  had  received  no 
commission  from  God,  and  concludes 
with  maintaining  that  the  favourite 
doctrines  of  his  antagonist,  respect- 
ing the  sufficiency  of  faith  and  non- 
existence  of  free  wiii,  -ft'ere  subversive 
of  all  morality,  and  repugnant  to  the 
first  principles  of  religion.3  The  pub- 
lication of  this  letter  rekindled  the 
anger,  and  exasperated  the  venom  of 
the  reformer.  He  announced  his  re- 
gret that  he  had  descended  to  the 
meanness  of  making  an  apology ;  and 
condemned  his  own  folly  in  supposing 
"  that  virtue  could  exist  in  a  court,  or 
that  Christ  might  be  found  in  a  place 
where  Satan  reigned."  But  thence- 
forth let  his  enemies  tremble.  He 
would  no  more  attempt  to  allure  them 
by  mildness,  but  would  apply  the 
merited  lash  to  their  backs.4 


neither  of  the  bulls  is  there  any  grant  of 
inheritance.  The  title  belonged  to  the  king 
personally,  not  to  his  successors.  Tibi  per- 
petuum  et  proprium. — Ibid.  But  Henry 
retained  it  after  his  separation  from  the 
communion  of  Rome,  and  in  1543  it  was 
annexed  to  the  crown  by  act  of  parliament, 
35  Hen.  VIII.  3.  Thus  it  became  here- 
ditable  by  his  successors;  and  I  observe 
that  it  was  retained  even  by  Philip  and 
Mary,  though  the  statute  itself  had  been 
repealed. 

i  Luth.  Op.  ii.  517—534.  Melancthon  was 
ashamed  of  the  violence  of  Luther's  writings. 
Quern  quidem  virum  ego  meliorem  esse 
judicp,  quam  q-vialis  videtur  facienti  de  eo 
judicium  ex  illis  violentis  scriptionibus 
Ipsius.— Ep.  ad  Gamer,  p.  90.  Sir  Thomas 
More  wrote  an  answer  to  Luther,  under  the 
fictitious  name  of  William  Ross.  Eruditis- 
Bimi  viri  Gulielmi  Rcs«ei  opua  elegans,  doc 


turn,  festirum,  &c.  In  it  he  endeavours  to 
equal  the  abuse  of  the  reformer ;  while 
Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  Jr  a  more 
argumentative  style,  undertook  the  defence- 
of  the  king  in  his  work  entitled  Defensio 
Assertionum  regis  Angline  de  fide  Catholica 
adversus  Lutheri  Captivitatem  Babylonicam. 

2  It  is  printed  at  the  end  of  the  Paris  edi- 
tion of  the  king's  work,  1562,  p.  102.  Luther 
terms  the  cardinal  illud  ruonstrum  et  pub- 
licum  odium  Dei  et  homiuum,  pestis  ilia 
regni  tui— Op.  ii.  517—531. 

3  Op.  ii.  104i— 130.    The  invective  against 
Luther's   union   with    Catherine   Boren,   a 
nun,  is  written  with  an  elegance  and  elo- 
quence far  beyond  the  powers  of  Henry 
(p.  110).    I  know  not  who  was  the  real 
author. 

*  Sleidan,  42,  67,  63.    Kaynald,  viii.  W. 
Collier,  ii.  Records,  p.  3.   _x 


230 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vir. 


The  edict  of  Worms  had  become  a 
dead  letter  at  the  expiration  of  a  few 
months  ;  and  Luther,  returning  to 
Wittemberg,  had  published  his  Ger- 
man translation  of  the  Scriptures.  It 
was  preposterous  to  imagine  that  from 
f;he  perusal  of  the  sacred  volumes  the 
common  people  could  be  enabled  to 
decide  those  questions  which  divided 
the  most  learned ;  but  the  present 
flattered  their  pride ;  they  felt  their 
obligations  to  the  man  who  had  ren- 
dered them  the  judges  of  their  own 
belief;  and  when  they  did  not  under- 
stand his  arguments,  were  still  con- 
vinced by  the  attraction  of  novelty, 
the  promise  of  freedom,  and  the  hope 
of  sharing  in  the  spoils  of  the  church.1 
The  increase  of  new  teachers  kept 
equal  pace  with  the  increase  of  new 
religionists.  The  country  curate,  who 
was  unknown  beyond  the  precincts  of 
his  village,  the  friar,  who  had  hitherto 
vegetated  in  the  obscurity  of  his 
convent,  saw  the  way  to  riches  and 
celebrity  suddenly  opened  before 
them.  They  had  only  to  ascend 
their  pulpits,  to  display  the  new 
light,  which  had  lately  burst  upon 
them,  to  declaim  against  the  wealth 
of  the  clergy  and  the  tyranny  of  the 
popes,  and  they  were  immediately 
followed  by  crowds  of  disciples,  whose 
gratitude  supplied  their  wants,  and 
whose  approbation  secured  to  them 
importance  in  the  new  church.  But 
these  teachers  soon  discovered  that 
they  had  as  good  a  claim  to  infalli- 
bility as  Luther;  they  began  to 
dispute  many  of  his  doctrines,  and 


to  reform  the  reformer  himself. 
Zwinglius  declared  against  him  in 
Switzerland,  and  severed  from  his 
empire  the  four  cities  of  Strasburg, 
Lindau,  Constance,  and  Memmingen. 
Muncer,  driven  from  Saxony,  erected 
his  hostile  standard  at  Mulhausen, 
in  Thuringia.  He  taught  the  natural 
equality  of  men,  the  right  of  each  to 
his  share  in  the  common  property  of 
all,  the  abolition  of  every  authority 
not  founded  on  the  gospel,  and  the 
formation  of  a  new  kingdom  upon 
earth,  to  consist  entirely  of  the  saints. 
The  peasants,  allured  by  his  doctrines, 
were  soon  in  arms,  and  the  princes  of 
the  empire  began  to  tremble  for  their 
political  existence.  Luther  was  over- 
whelmed with  reproaches ;  the  evil,  it 
was  said,  had  sprung  from  the  ten- 
dency of  his  doctrines ;  and,  to  justify 
himself,  he  declared  that  Muncer  was 
inspired  and  aided  by  the  devil,  and 
that  the  only  remedy  was  to  extirpate 
with  fire  and  sword  both  the  teacher 
and  his  disciples.  After  many  a  bloody 
field  in  different  parts  of  the  empire, 
the  Catholics  and  Lutherans  by  their 
united  efforts  suppressed  the  insur- 
rection.2 But  the  moment  the  com- 
mon enemy  was  removed,  their  mutual 
diffidence  revived;  and  the  Catholic 
princes  requested  the  presence  of  the 
emperor  to  protect  them  from  the 
machinations  of  their  enemies  ;  and 
the  Protestant  princes  concluded  at 
Torgau  a  league  for  their  common  de- 
fence. It  was  afterwards  strengthened 
by  the  accession  of  new  members ;  and 
in  the  course  of  a  few  pages  we  shall 


1  Germany  at  this  period  abounded  with 
military  adventurers.  As  the  institution  of 
standing  armies  was  yet  in  it3  infancy,  when 
any  prince  began  a  war,  he  sent  to  hire 
soldiers  in  Germany  or  Switzerland,  and 
these  at  the  end  of  their  engagement,  which 
seldom  lasted  more  than  six  months,  re- 
turned home  to  live  on  the  plunder  which 
fciey  had  made,  till  they  should  receive 
another  offer  of  service.  It  was  observed 
that  most  of  these,  both  officers  and  men, 
attached  themselves  to  Luther.  But  the 
most  celebrated  was  Sickingen,  of  an  ancient 
family  situated  near  the  Bhine.  He  not 


only  invited  the  reformer  to  live  with  him, 
but  promised  to  protect  him  against  the 
whole  world.  Under  pretext  of  a  commis- 
sion from  Charles,  he  levied  10,000  foot  and 
2,000  horse,  overran  the  electorate  of 
Treves  and  laid  siege  to  the  city.  Hia 
object  was  to  employ  the  religious  feelings 
of  his  troops  in  forming  a  principality  for 
himself  out  of  the  ecclesiastical  electorates. 
But  the  German  princes,  aware  of  his  am- 
bition, combined  against  him,  and  made 
him  prisoner.— Sleid.  36.  Schmidt,  1.  viu. 
o.  7.  »  Sleid.  34. 


A.D.  1525.] 


ORIGIN  Ol  HENRY'S  DIVORCE. 


see  this  confederacy,  avowedly  formed 
to  support  and  propagate  the  new 
doctrines,  in  active  correspondence 


with  the  king  of  England,  the  enemy 
of  religious  innovation,  and  the  de- 
fender of  the  orthodox  faith. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


ANNE  BOLEYN — ORIGIN  OP  THE  DIVORCE — NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  THE  PONTIFF— 
SWEATING  SICKNESS  —  ARRIVAL  OP  CARDINAL  CAMPEGGIO  —  DELAYS  ANB 
EXPEDIENTS — LEGATINE  COURT— DEPARTURE  OF  CAMPEGGIO — DISGRACE  AKD 
DEATH  OF  WOLSEY — POWER  OF  ANNE  BOLEYN — THE  NEW  MINISTRY— RISE  OF 
CROMWELL CONCESSIONS  EXTORTED  FROM  THE  CLERGY. 


WHEN  Henry  married  the  princess 
Catherine  she  was  in  her  twenty-sixth 
year.  The  graces  of  her  person  de- 
rived additional  lustre  from  the  ami- 
able qualities  of  her  heart;  and  the 
propriety  of  her  conduct,  during  a 
long  period  of  trial  and  suspense,  had 
deserved  and  obtained  the  applause 
of  the  whole  court.  She  bore  him 
three  sons  and  two  daughters,  all  of 
whom  died  in  their  infancy,  except 
the  princess  Mary,  who  survived  both 
her  parents,  and  afterwards  ascended 
the  throne.1  Por  several  years  the 
king  boasted  of  his  happiness  in  pos- 
sessing so  accomplished  and  virtuous 
a  consort;2  but  Catherine  was  older 
than  her  husband,  and  subject  to  fre- 
quent infirmities;  the  ardour  of  his 
attachment  gradually  evaporated ;  and 
at  last  his  inconstancy  or  superstition 
attributed  to  the  curse  of  Heaven  the 
death  of  her  children  and  her  subse- 
quent miscarriages.  Tet  even  while 
she  suffered  from  his  bad  usage,  he 
was  compelled  to  admire  the  meek- 
ness with  which  she  bore  her  afflic- 
tions, and  the  constancy  with  which 


she  maintained  her  rights.  The  queen 
had  lost  his  heart ;  she  never  forfeited 
his  esteem. 

As  long  as  he  was  attached  to  Ca- 
therine, he  was  careful  to  confine  his 
passions  within  the  bounds  of  public 
decency;  and,  though  he  might  in- 
dulge in  occasional  amours,  he  re- 
frained from  open  and  scandalous 
excesses.  The  first  of  the  royal  mis- 
tresses whose  name  has  been  preserved 
in  history,  was  Elizabeth,  the  daughter 
of  Sir  John  Blount,  and  relict  of  Sir 
Gilbert  Tailbois.  By  her  he  had  a 
son,  named  in  baptism  Henry  Pitz- 
roy,  whom  he  successively  raised  to 
the  titles  and  offices  of  earl  of  Not- 
tingham, duke  of  Richmond,  admiral 
of  England,  warden  of  the  Scottish 
marches,  and  lieutenant  of  Ireland. 
His  excessive  partiality  to  the  boy 
provoked  a  suspicion  that  he  intended 
to  name  him  his  successor,  to  the  pre- 
judice of  his  legitimate  daughter; 
but,  to  the  grief  and  disappointment 
of  the  father,  the  young  Fitzroy  died 
in  London,  before  he  had  completed 
his  eighteenth  year.3 


1  Notwithstanding  the  prohibition  of 
Bnrnet,  I  believe  that  Catherine  had  five 
children,  on  the  authority  of  Sanders  (p.  5, 
Col.  Agrip.  1610),  confirmed  by  the  testi- 
mony of  Mason  (De  Minist.  Ang.  p.  147), 
and  of  Cardinal  Pole :  Liberos  plures  ex  ea 
suscepit.  Si  vero  reliqui  decesserint,  at 
nnam  reliquit.— Poli  Apol.  ad  Car.  V.  Cses. 
p.  162.  See  Appendix,  M. 


2  Quara  sic  initio  regni  amavit,  nt  nemo 
vir    erga   carissimam    conjugem   majorem 
ostenderit  amorem.— Ibid.    See  also  chap.i. 
note  2. 

3  Sandford,    498.      Giovanni   Joacchino, 
whom  the  king  had  introduced  to  the  young 
Fitzroy,  says  of  him,  April  11,  1530,  E  bel- 
lissimo  e  costumatissimo  ed  anche  literato 
figliolo.— Apud  Le  Grand,  iii.  416. 


232 


HENKY  VIIT. 


[CHAP.  Tin. 


To  Elizabeth  Tailbois  succeeded  in 
the  king's  affections  Mary  Boleyn, 
whose  father,  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  was 
sprung  from  a  lord  mayor  of  London, 
and  whose  mother,  Elizabeth,  was 
daughter  of  Thomas  duke  of  Norfolk. 
She  retained  for  some  time  her  em- 
pire over  the  fickle  heart  of  her  lover  ;l 
but  Henry  at  length  treated  her  as 
lie  had  treated  so  many  others  :2  and 
his  desertion  of  Mary  furnished,  at 
a  subsequent  period,  a  useful  lesson  to 
her  younger  sister,  the  gay  and  accom- 
plished Arinc  Boleyn. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  we  cannot 
ascertain  the  exact  year  in  which  that 
lady  was  born.  The  earliest  year 
assigned  is  1500,  the  latest  1507.  N  ei- 
ther of  these  dates  rests  on  satisfactory 
authority.  The  first  appears  to  accord 
better  with  the  earlier  circumstances 
of  her  life,  the  other  plainly  makes 


her  much  too  young.3  The  reader 
is  aware  that  she  was  one  of  the  few 
English  ladies  selected  by  Louis  XII. 
as  attendants  on  his  wife  Queen  Mary, 
who,  soon  after  the  death  of  her  royal 
husband,  returned  to  England.  Anne, 
however,  remained  in  France.  She 
may  perhaps  at  first  have  visited  a 
friend  or  relative  of  her  father  at 
Brie;  but  all  that  we  know  with  cer- 
tainty is,  that  she  was  soon  admitted 
into  the  household  of  Claude,  queen 
of  Francis  I.  In  the  service  of  that 
virtuous  princess  she  continued  almost 
seven  years ;  and,  though  reports  un- 
favourable to  her  moral  character, 
during  the  latter  period  of  her  resi- 
dence in  the  Fronch  court,  may  be 
found  in  foreign  writers,  they  appear 
undeserving  of  credit,  and  were  pro- 
bably suggested  by  her  subsequent 
unhappy  fate.4  In  1522  she  was 


1  The  reluctance  of  Burnet  to  acknow- 
ledge Mary  as  one  of  the  king's  mistresses 
must  yield  to  the  repeated  assertions  of 
Pole,  in  his  private  letter  to  Henry,  written 
in  1535.  Didicerat  (Anne  Boleyn),  opinor, 
si  nulla  alia  ex  re,  vcl  sororis  sua?  exemplo, 
quam  cito  to  concubinarum  tuarum  satietas 
caperet. — Soror  ejus  est,  quam  tu  violasti 
pnmum,  et  diu  postea  concubinae  loco  apud 
te  habuisti. — Ab  eodem  pontifice  magna  \i 
cpntendebas,  ut  tibi  liceret  dncere  dororem 
ejus,  quce  concubina  tua  fuissct. — Pol.  f. 
Ixxvi.  Ixxvii. 

3  There  is,  however,  reason  to  believe 
that  he  provided  a husban<?  for  Mary  Boleyn. 
At  her  marriage  with  Wiiiiam  Carey,  of  the 
privy  chamber,  the  king  honoured  the  cere- 
jnony  with  his  presence,  and  made  his  offer- 
ing at  the  altar. — Item  for  the  king's  offring 
opon  Saturday  (31st  January,  1520-21)  at 
the  marriage  of  M.  Care  and  Mare  Bulky n, 
vi.  e.  viii.  d."  See  extract  from  the  House- 
hold Book  in  Sir  Frederic  Madden's  privy 
purse  expenses  of  Queen  Mary,  App.  p.  282. 
The  date  is  of  importance. 

a  Camden,  in  a  marginal  note,  says,  "  nata 
anno  MDVII." — Hearne's  edition,  p.  2. 
The  printed  Sanders  says  that  she  was  born 
in  1500.— De  Schis.  p.  18.  We  possess  an 
autograph  letter  written  by  her,  while  she 
was  pursuing  her  studies  at  Hever,  a  castle 
belonging  to  her  father.  The  letter  is  in 
many  parts  illegible  and  unintelligible 
enough.  See  it  in  Ellis,  ii.  Ser.  vol.  11, 
p.  10,  with  an  imaginary  translation.  It 
shows,  however,  that  Sir  Thomas  had  written 
to  his  daughter  a  letter  of  reprocf,  and  had 
told  her  that  he  should  take  her  with  him  to 
court,  where  he  should  introduce  her  to  the 


queen,  who  would  talk  with  her ;  and  that 
he  required  an  answer  composed  by  herself 
without  the  aid  of  her  governess  or  her 
masters.  She  answers  at  full  length  and  in 
very  incorrect  language.  As  there  is  not  in 
the  letter  any  allusion  to  her  future  advance- 
ment at  court,  we  cannot  suppose  it  to  have 
been  written  before  1513,  when,  if  the  latest 
date  of  her  birth  be  correct,  she  could  be 
only  six  years  old.  But  the  letter  itself 
manifestly  proves  that  the  writer  must  have 
been  a  girl  often  or  twelve  at  the  least,  and 
must  therefore  have  been  born  near  the 

beginning  of  the  century. The  ridiculous 

statement  in  Sanders,  that  Anne  was  the 
daughter  of  Henry  by  Lady  Boleyn,  if  it 
stood  in  need  of  refutation,  is  abundantly 
disproved,  as  Quirini  has  observed  (Poli  Ep. 
torn.  i.  p.  137),  by  the  silence  of  Pole,  who 
would  certainly  have  mentioned  it,  if  it  had 
been  known  in  his  time. 

I  am  acquainted  with  only  one  passage 


the  French  court,  said  to  have  been  ex- 
tracted from  the  memoirs  of  the  viscount 
Chateaubriant,  a  contemporary  in  the  court 
of  Francis  I.  (Queens  of  England,  2nd  edit. 
iv.  p.  168.)  The  fact  however  is,  that  this 
extract  is  not  taken  from  memoirs  written 
by  a  contemporary  of  Anne,  but  by  a  con- 
temporary of  our  own,  by  the  bibliophile 
Jacob  [M.  Paul  Lacroix] ,  who  in  1837  amused 
himself  with  composing  certain  parts  of  a 
novel,  to  be  called  the  Me"moires  of  Ma- 
dame de  Chateaubrinnt  (Franyoise  de  Faix), 
mistress  of  Francis  I. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  this  extract 


A.P.  1525.J 


AXNE  BOLEYN. 


recalled  to  England  by  Henry  VIII.,1 
who  had  it  in  contemplation  to  put 
an  end  to  the  controversy  between 
Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  and  Sir  Piers 
Butler  for  the  succession  to  the  lands 
and  honours  of  Thomas  Butler,  late 
earl  of  Carrick  and  Ormond,  in  Ire- 
land, and  Lord  Rochford  in  England, 
by  giving  Anne  Boleyn  in  marriage 
to  the  son  of  Sir  Piers.2  With  this 
view,  she  returned  to  England  in 
1522,  and  was  soon  admitted  into  the 
household  of  Queen  Catherine,  in  a 
situation  similar  to  that  which  she 
before  held  in  the  service  of  Queen 
Claude.  Her  French  education  gave 
her  the  superiority  over  her  com- 
panions; she  played,  and  danced, 
and  sung  with  more  grace  than  any 
other  lady  at  court;  and  the  gaiety 
of  her  conversation,  with  the  buoyancy 
of  her  disposition,  attracted  a  crowd 
of  admirers. 

It  happened  that,  when  the  cardinal 
was  closeted  with  the  king,  the  geu- 


j  tlemen  of  his  suite,  to  pass  their  time, 
would  repair  to  the  apartment  occu- 
pied by  the  queen's  maids.  There 
Anne  first  saw  the  lord  Percy,  son  to 
the  earl  of  Northumberland ;  a  warm 
attachment  grew  up  between  them, 
and  they  began  seriously  to  think  of 
a  clandestine  marriage.  But  their 
secret  was  revealed  to  Henry,  and 
"NVolsey  received  orders  to  separate 
the  lovers.  Anne  was  sent  back  to 
her  parents,  and  Percy  was  compelled 
to  marry  Mary  Talbot,  daughter  to 
the  earl  of  Shrewsbury.3  After  a 
short  delay,  the  young  Boleyn  was 
recalled  to  court,  where  she  gradually 
resumed  her  former  ascendancy,  and 
consoled  herself  by  a  new  conquest 
for  her  late  disappointment.  The 
projected  union  between  her  and  the 
son  of  Sir  Piers  Butler  now  appeared 
more  distant  than  ever ;  Henry  him- 
self on  several  occasions  treated  her 
with  marked  attention ;  once  he  made 
to  her  the  present  of  a  valuable  set  of 


the  accomplished  historian  of  England's 
Queens  was  misled  by  error  of  some  foreign 
correspondent.  It  was,  however,  necessary 
to  mention  the  mistake  here,  otherwise  this 
imaginary  description  might,  hereafter,  on 
the  authority  of  Miss  Strickland's  name, 
have  been  received  as  a  real  and  authentic 
document. 

J  Though  Spelrnan  (p.  2)  makes  her  re- 
main in  the  family  of  the  duchess  of  Alen- 
con,  who  quitted  France  in  September, 
1525,  and  was  married  to  the  nominal  king 
of  Navarre  in  1527.  it  is  piain  that  he  can- 
not be  correct.  Lord  Herbert  assures  us 
(and  appeals  for  the  assertion  to  "  our 
records"),  that  she  returned  to  England  in 
1522,  "  at  the  time  when  our  students  at 
Paris  were  remanded"  (p.  46  and  122)  ;  and 
Fiddes  informs  us  that  Francis  complained 
at  the  time  to  the  English  ambassador,  that 
"the  English  scholars  and  the  daughter  of 
Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  should  return  home" 
(p.  268). 

2  This  suggestion  came  from  Lord  Surrey 
(St.  Pap.  ii.  57) ;  and  Wolsey  was  ordered 
by  the  king  to  bring  about  the  marriage 
(ibid.  i.  91).  Now  Mary  Boleyn  had  been 
already  married  nine  months ;  so  that  the 
daughter  in  question  could  only  be  Anne 
Boleyn.  Wolsey  undertook  the  negotiation 
in  November,  1521,  and  the  order  for  Anne's 
return  reached  Paris  in  the  beginning  of 
the  next  year. 

8  The  present,  towerer,  was  not  the  first 


time  that  this  marriage  had  been  in  con- 
templation. From  papers  in  possession  of 
Lord  Shrewsbury,  it  appears  that,  as  early 
as  in  the  year  1519,  the  parents  of  the  par- 
ties, in  apprehension  of  opposition  from 
some  higher  quarter,  had  agreed  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  at  the  same  time  to  a  shrine  at 
Doncaster,  that  they  might  have  the  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting,  and  arranging  the  par- 
ticulars. So  fixed  was  Northumberland  on 
the  marriage,  that,  though  he  had  been 
urged  to  send  Lord  Percy  to  court,  he  de- 
clared that  he  would  keep  him  at  home,  till 
he  should  "  be  better  learned,  and  well 
acquainted  with  his  wife."  However,  supe- 
rior authority  prevailed,  and  the  marriage 
was  then  prevented.  It  is  probable  that 
the  great  opponent  then  was  the  most  urgent 
for  its  accomplishment  now.  I  know  not 
the  day  on  which  it  took  place,  but  I  possess 
the  copy  of  a  letter  from  the  earl  of  Surrey 
to  Lord  Darcy,  "scribbled  the  12th  day  o'f 
September,''  in  the  year  1523,  in  which 
Lord  Surrey,  having  stated  that  he  for- 
warded  to  him  a  letter  from  the  cardinal, 
adds,  "the  mariage  of  my  lorde  Percy  shal 
be  wt  my  lorde  steward's  doghter,  whereof 
I  am  right  glade,  and  so  I  am  sure  ye  be. 
Now  the  cheff  baron  ia  with  my  lorde  cf 
Northumberland  to  conclude  the  mariage." 
We  may  therefore  safely  infer  that  it  took 
place  about  the  end  of  1523  or  the  beginning; 
of  1524;  another  proof  that  the  historians 
who  placed  the  return  of  Acne  in  the  jew 
1527  are  in  errcr. 


334 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  Tin 


jewels  ;f  and  it  was  probably  to  gra- 
tify her,  that  he  created  her  father 
Viscount  Rochford,  and  appointed 
him  treasurer  of  the  royal  house- 
hold.8 Anne  could  not  be  blind  to 
tbe  impression  which  her  charms  had 
made  on  the  amorous  monarch ;  but, 
when  he  ventured  to  hint  to  her  his 
real  object,  she  indignantly  replied, 
that  she  could  not  be  his  wife,  and 
would  not  be  his  mistress.3 

This  answer,  instead  of  checking, 
served  only  to  irritate  the  passion  of 
the  king,  who  for  more  than  a  twelve- 
month persisted  in  urging  his  suit 
with  protestations  of  the  most  ardent 
attachment.  But  Anne  had  derived 
wisdom  from  the  fate  of  her  sister 
Mary.  She  artfully  kept  her  lover 
in  suspense ;  but  tempered  her  resist- 
ance with  so  many  blandishments, 


that  his  hopes,  though  repeatedly 
disappointed,  were  never  totally  ex- 
tinguished.4 Henry  was  aware  that 
some  objections  had  been  formerly 
raised  to  his  marriage  with  Catherine ; 
but  the  question  had  been  set  at  rest 
by  the  unanimous  decision  of  his 
council;  and  seventeen  years  had 
elapsed  without  a  suspicion  of  the 
unlawfulness  of  their  union.  Now, 
however,  his  increasing  passion  for 
the  daughter  of  Lady  Boleyn  induced 
him  to  reconsider  the  subject;  and 
in  the  company  of  his  .confidants  he 
affected  to  fear  that  he  was  living  in  a 
state  of  incest  with  the  relict  of  his 
brother.5  Whether  the  idea  of  a 
divorce  arose  spontaneously  in  his 
mind,  or  was  suggested  by  the  of- 
ficiousness  of  others,  may  be  uncer- 
tain;6 but  the  royal  wish  was  no 


i  Cavendish  (in  "Wordsworth's  Ecclesias- 
tical Biography),  383—369.  Heylin's  Ke- 
formation,  259,  260. 

8  On  the  fall  of  Wolsey,  when  Anne 
reigned  without  control,  in  1529,  her  father 
was  created  earl  of  Ormond  in  Ireland,  and 
of  Wiltshire  in  England.  His  competitor, 
Sir  Piers  Butler,  who  claimed  as  heir 
general  to  the  last  earl,  was  created  earl  of 
Ossory,  and,  having  surrendered  all  his 
lands  to  the  king,  received  them  back  by  a 
grant  from  the  crown. 

3  Concubina  enim  tua  fieri  pudica  mulier 
nolebat,  uxor  volebat. — Pol.  ibid.  Ilia  cujns 
amore  rex  deperibat,  pertinaeissime  negabat 
sui  corporis  potestatem,  nisi  matrimonio 
oonjunctam,  se  illi  unquain  facturara. — Pol. 
ad  regem  Scotise,  p.  176.  There  is  in  the 
Sloane  MS.  2495  a  pretended  copy  of  the 
very  words  in  which  she  answered  the  king. 

*  Misere  ardebas,  homo  hoc  eetatis  et  isto 
rerum  usu,  puellse  amore — Ilia  sprorem 
vincere  contendebat  in  te  amatore  retinendo. 
— Pol.  f.  Ixxvi.  In  one  of  his  epistles  to 
Anne,  he  states  that,  though  it  was  more 
than  a  year  since  he  had  been  wounded  by 
Cupid's  dart,  he  was  still  uncertain  whether 
he  had  failed,  or  had  obtained  a  place  in 
her  heart.  Ayant  este  plus  q'ung  ann6 
attaynte  du  dart  d'amours,  non  estant 
assure"  de  faliere,  ou  trouver  place  en  votre 
ceur  et  affection.  —  Hearne  s  Avesbury, 
p.  350.  The  date  of  this  letter  is  not  given ; 
but  it  must  have  preceded  the  letter  No.  16, 
which  from  internal  evidence  was  written  in 
Dec.  1527,  or  Jan.  1628.  Whence  it  follows 
that  the  king's  passion  for  Anne  must  have 
begun  at  the  latest  in  the  Bummer  of  1526, 
probably  much  earlier ;  at  all  events  before 
tbe  time  assigned  to  the  origin  of  his 


scruples    respecting     his    marriage    with 
Catherine. 

5  Satanae  coepit    auscultare  ejus  concu- 
piscentiam  stimulanti,  ut  illam  amaret,  quae 
sui  corporis  potestatem  facturam  pernega- 
bat,  nisi  remota  ilia,   &c.    Ab  hoc  igitur 
initio,   &c.— Poll  Apol.  ad  Caes.  115,  116. 
Efflictim  deperiit.     Quum  vero  pudicitiam 
expugnare  non   potuisset,   in   uxorem  spe 
prolis  masculae  ambivit. — Cainb.  3. 

6  The  first  suggestion  of  the  divorce  has 
been  attributed  to  different  persons.    1.  By 
the  public  the  credit  or  infamy  of  it  was 
given  to  Wolsey  (Instigator  et  auctor  con- 
silii  existimabatur.— Poli  Apol.  ibid.) ;  and 
the  emperor  in  his  answer  to  Henry's  de- 
fiance, openly  charges  the  cardinal  with  it. 
— Apud  Le  Grand,  Si.  46.  2.  Wolsey  denied 
or  admitted  it,  as  best  suited  his  purpose. 
He  denied  it  in  presence  of  the  king  in  tho 
legatine  court  (Cavendish,   428),    and  re' 
peatedly  boasted  of  it  to  the  French  ambas- 
sador.—Apnd  Le  Grand,  iii.  186,  200,  318, 
319.    3.  Henry  himself  declared  that  the 
idea  originated  not  with  the  cardinal,  but 
with  himself;   and  that  his  scruples  were 
confirmed  by  the  bishop  of  Tarbes  (Caven- 
dish, ibid.    Le  Grand,  iii.  218.    Hall,  180) ; 
and  Lon  gland,  the  king's  confessor,  agrees 
with  him  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  derived  his 
first  information  respecting  it  from  Henry. 
— Burnet,  iii.  App.  p.  400.    New  Burnet, 
i.  59. 

But  Cardinal  Pole,  who,  writing  to  the 
king  on  such  a  subject  would  hardly  venture 
to  assert  what,  if  it  were  not  true,  Henry 
must  have  known  to  be  false,  assures  us 
that  it  was  first  mentioned  to  the  king  by 
certain  divines,  whom  Anne  Boleyn  sent  to 
him  for  that  purpose.  Ilia  ipa*  sacerdotei 


A.D.  1525.J 


EVENTS  IN  ITALY. 


235 


sooner  communicated  to  AVolsey,  than 
he  offered  his  aid,  and  ventured  to 
promise  complete  success.  His  views, 
however,  were  very  different  from 
those  of  his  sovereign.  Either  unap- 
prized  of  Henry's  intentions  in  favour 
of  Anne,  or  persuading  himself  that 
the  present  amour  would  terminate 
like  so  many  others,  he  looked  for- 
ward to  the  political  consequences 
of  the  divorce;  and  that  he  might 
"perpetuate"  the  alliance  between 
England  and  Prance,  had  already  se- 
lected, for  the  successor  of  Catherine, 
Renee,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XII.1 
The  public  had,  indeed,  fixed  on  Mar- 
garet, duchess  of  Alenc.on,  but  the 
letters  to  which  I  have  referred  show, 
that  if  he  ever  thought  of  her,  he 
soon  renounced  that  idea  in  favour  of 
Renee. 

Before  we  proceed,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  direct  the  reader's  attention 
to  the  events  which,  during  the  in- 
terval, had  shaken  the  papal  power  in 
Italy.  By  the  defeat  of  Francis  at 
Pavia,  Clement  found  himself  placed 
in  a  most  delicate  situation,  the  em- 
barrassments of  which  were  multiplied 
by  the  irresolution  of  his  own  mind 
and  the  insincerity  both  of  his  allies 
and  of  his  enemies.  Abandoned  to 
the  resentment  of  the  imperialists, 
whose  victorious  troops  from  Naples 
on  the  south,  and  Lombardy  on  the 
north,  could,  at  any  moment,  overrun 
his  dominions,  he  concluded  a  treaty 
with  their  commanders ;  but  this  the 
emperor  refused  to  ratify  without  the 
addition  of  other  and  more  humi- 
liating articles.  Floating  between 
hope  and  fear,  he  sometimes  courted 
the  friendship,  at  other  times  pro- 
voked the  hostility  of  that  prince ; 
their  correspondence  was  embittered 


by  mutual  reproaches;  and  the  charges 
of  ingratitude  and  breach  of  faith  were 
repelled  by  Clement  with  complaints 
of  insatiate  rapacity  and  ambition.2 
After  the  liberation  of  Francis,  the 
pontiff  eagerly  formed  a  confederacy 
with  that  monarch,  with  Sforza,  duke 
of  Milan,  and  with  the  republics  of 
Venice  and  Florence.  Its  object  was 
to  "preserve  the  independence  of  the 
Italian  states ;  and  Henry  was  named 
its  protector;  but  he  refused  the 
honour,  on  the  ground  that  it  con- 
tained articles  with  which  he  had  no 
concern,  and  contented  himself  with 
making  a  collateral  alliance  with 
Francis,  by  which  both  monarchs 
bound  themselves  to  consent  to  no 
arrangement  with  the  emperor  which 
did  not  include  security  for  the  money 
due  to  Henry  from  that  prince,  and 
an  engagement  on  his  part  to  release 
the  two  sons  of  Francis  on  the  pay- 
ment of  a  million  of  crowns.  The 
Italians  collected  an  army;  but  the 
French  monarch,  though  he  promised 
much,  performed  nothing;  and  Cle- 
ment was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
again  soliciting  a  peace.  His  request 
was  granted  by  Moncada,  the  governor 
of  Naples ;  and  yet  that  officer,  under 
pretence  of  revenging  the  wrongs  of 
the  Colonnesi,  at  the  end  of  four 
weeks  advanced  in  secrecy  to  the 
walls  of  Rome,  seized  one  of  the  gates, 
compelled  the  pontiff  to  take  refuge 
in  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and  plun- 
dered the  rich  palace  of  the  Vatican. 
A  second  treaty  was  concluded ;  new 
outrages  followed  on  both  sides ;  the 
allies  again  took  the  field ;  and  a  faint 
gleam  of  success  gave  a  transient  lustre 
to  their  arms. 

To  reinforce  the  imperialists,  Fre- 
undsberg,  a   German  partisan,   had 


snos,  graves  theologcs,  quasi  pignora 
promptse  voluntatis  misit,  qui  non  modo  tibi 
licere  affirmarent  uxorem  dimittere,  sed 
grayiter  etiam  peccare  dicerenfr,  quod  punc- 
tual ullum  temporis  earn  retineres ;  ac  nisi 
continue  repudiares,  gravissimam  Dei  offen- 


sionem   denuntiarent.    Hie   primus  totiua 
fabulse  exorsua  fuit.— Pole,  f.  Ixxvi. 

1  Lettres  de  reVSque  de  Bayonne,  apad 
Le  Grand,  iii.  166, 168. 

2  See  Pallavicino,  i.  236—243. 


236 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VI3I. 


raised  a  body  of  his  countrymen, 
amounting  to  fourteen  thousand 
men;  and  these  were  joined  at 
Fiorenzuola  by  Bourbon  with  ten 
thousand  needy  adventurers,  partly 
Spaniards  and  partly  Italians.  This 
formidable  army  had  neither  pay  nor 
provisions ;  but  the  leaders  undertook 
to  enrich  themselves  and  their  fol- 
lowers with  the  plunder  of  Florence 
and  Rome;  and  though  the  allies 
carefully  watched  their  steps,  though 
they  occasionally  interrupted  their 
progress,  still  the  adventurers,  stimu- 
lated by  hope  and  necessity,  continued 
to  hasten  towards  their  prey.  Cle- 
ment in  his  consternation  submitted 
to  articles  of  peace  dictated  by  Lan- 
noy,  the  viceroy  of  Naples ;  but  the 
imperialists  despised  the  authority  of 
that  general ;  his  orders  to  withdraw 
were  disobeyed;  and  his  life  was 
threatened  when  he  ventured  into 
their  camp.  Florence  owed  its  pre- 
servation to  the  rapid  and  seasonable 
interposition  of  the  allied  army ;  but 
the  adventurers  precipitated  their 
march  upon  Rome ;  and  in  the  first 
week  of  May  reached  the  walls  of 
that  capital.  The  next  day  Bourbon 
(Freundsberg  lay  sick  at  Ferrara)  led 
them  to  the  assault;  and,  though  he 
fell  by  a  musket-ball  as  he  was  mount- 
ing a  ladder,  the  city  was  taken,  and 
was  abandoned  during  five  days  to 
the  mercy  of  a  licentious  and  infu- 
riate soldiery.  The  Spaniards  and 
Italians  chiefly  confined  themselves 
to  the  plunder  of  the  houses  and 
palaces;  the  Germans,  who  had  em- 
braced the  doctrines  of  Luther,  ran- 
sacked the  churches  and  convents. 
Every  species  of  torture  was  employed 
to  draw  from  the  captives  the  dis- 
closure of  their  hidden  wealth;  and 
women  of  every  rank  were  promis- 
cuously subjected  to  the  brutality  of 
the  conquerors.  If  we  may  believe 


the  contemporary  writers,  the  horrors 
which  attended  the  sack  of  Rome 
exceeded  whatever  the  imagination 
can  picture ;  and  the  eternal  city  suf- 
fered more  from  the  ravages  of  a 
Christian  army  than  it  had  ever  done 
from  the  hostility  cf  pagan  barbarians. 
At  length  Moncada  arrived,  and  by 
his  presence  checked  the  licentiousness 
of  the  soldiers ;  Clement,  who  had  fled 
into  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo,  was  care- 
fully surrounded  and  besieged  by  his 
enemies.1 

While  Bourbon  led  his  hungry 
followers  to  the  sack  of  Rome,  the 
kings  of  England  and  France  were 
idly  employed  in  devising  offen- 
sive leagues  and  matrimonial  alli- 
ances. Francis  before  his  liberation 
from  captivity  had  been  contracted  to 
Leonora,  the  emperor's  sister;  but 
his  subsequent  offer  to  proceed  to  the 
solemnization  of  marriage  was  rejected 
by  Charles,  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  not  yet  complied  with  the  other 
obligations  of  the  treaty ;  now  Henry, 
to  widen  the  breach  between  the  two 
sovereigns,  tendered  to  Francis  the 
hand  of  the  princess  Mary,  who 
had  reached  her  eleventh  year.  The 
French  monarch,  equally  anxious  to 
bind  his  English  brother  to  his  in- 
terests, accepted  the  offer,  urged  an 
immediate  marriage,  and  made  light 
of  the  objections  which  the  father 
drew  from  the  immature  age  of  his 
daughter.8  But  Henry  was  inflex- 
ible; and  the  French  ambassadors, 
the  bishop  of  Tarbes  and  the  viscount 
of  Turenne,  at  length  signed  a  treaty, 
by  which  it  was  agreed  that  the 
princess  should  marry  either  Francis, 
or  his  second  son  the  duke  of  Orleans ; 
Francis,  as  it  was  afterwards  ex- 
plained, if  that  monarch  should 
remain  a  widower  till  she  arrived  at 
the  age  of  puberty ;  the  duke  of  Or- 
leans, if  in  the  interval  it  should  be 


'  Pali.mcino,  242—246.     Gnicciu-d.  1264. 
Murutori,  xiv.  224—2.15.     Du  Bellay,  1 13. 
-  Herbert,  197.     A  letter  from  tl-e  bishop 


of  Bath  contains  a  most  singular  proposal 
from  the  mother  of  Frames  on  this  subject, 
-Fiddes,  Collect,  j-.  111. 


A.D.  1527.J 


NEGOTIATIONS. 


deemed  desirable  by  both  parties  that 
the  king  should  marry  Leonora.  Two 
other  treaties  were  concluded  at  the 
same  time,  that  both  monarchs  should 
jointly  make  war  on  the  emperor,  if 
he  rejected  the  proposals  which  they 
meant  to  offer ;  that  Henry  for  him- 
self, his  heirs  and  successors,  should 
renounce  all  claim  to  any  lands  at 
that  time  in  possession  of  the  king  of 
Trance,  and  that  Francis  and  his  suc- 
cessors should  pay  for  ever  to  Henry 
and  his  heirs  a  yearly  rent  of  fifty 
thousand  crowns  of  gold,  in  addition 
to  all  other  sums  due  to  him  from  the 
French  monarch.1  It  was  during  the 
conferences  respecting  this  marriage 
that  the  bishop  of  Tarbes,  if  \ve  may 
believe  the  suspicious  assertion  of  the 
king  and  the  cardinal,  ventured  to 
ask  whether  the  legitimacy  of  the 
princess  were  unimpeachable  ?  What 
could  prompt  him  to  put  the  ques- 
tion, we  are  not  informed.  It  is 
certain  that  he  had  no  such  instruc- 
tions from  his  court,  which  still  con- 
tinued to  solicit  the  union ;  and  the 
public  afterwards  believed  that  he 
spoke  by  the  suggestion  of  "Wolsey, 
who  sought  to  supply  the  king  with  a 


decent  pretext  for  opening  his  project 
f  a  divorce.2  Before  their  departure 
Henry  gave  to  the  ambassadors  a 
magnificent  entertainment  at  Green- 
wich. Three  hundred  lances  were 
Broken  before  supper ;  in  the  evening 
ihe  company  withdrew  to  the  ball- 
room, where  they  were  entertained 
with  an  oration  and  songs,  a  fight  at 
barriers,  and  the  dancing  of  maskers. 
About  midnight  the  king  and  Tu- 
renne  retired  with  six  others,  dis- 
guised themselves  as  Venetian  noble- 
men, and  returning  took  out  ladies 
to  dance.  The  reader  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  that  Henry's  partner 
was  Anne  Coleyn.3 

That  lady  still  retained  her  ascen- 
dancy over  the  heart  of  the  king,  to 
whom  a  divorce  from  Catherine  was 
now  become  an  object  of  greater  im- 
portance than  the  friendship  of  the 
most  powerful  prince  in  Christendom. 
He  communicated  his  doubts  respect- 
ing the  validity  of  his  marriage  to 
several  canonists  and  divines,  who 
easily  discovered  the  real  wish  of  their 
sovereign  through  the  thin  disguise 
with  which  he  affected  to  cover  it,— 
the  scruples  of  a  timorous  conscience, 


1  It  was  to  be  paid  perpetuis  saeculis 
futuris — ad  extremum  usque  annorum  de- 
cursum,  quern  divina  providentia  mundi 
hujus  terminum  posuit  et  determinavit.  In 
addition  the  English  king  was  also  to  re- 
ceive on  board  his  own  ships  yearly  a  cer- 
tain quantity  of  the  salt  of  Brouage  to  the 
value  of  15,000  crowns.— Eym.  liv.  221. 
Herb.  80.  2  See  Appendix,  N. 

3  "  Fusmes  chez  la  Eoyne  ou  Ton  dansa, 
et  M.  de  Turaine  par  le  commandement 
dudict  Seigneur  Eoy,  dansa  avec  Madame 
la  Princesse,  et  le  Koy  avec  Mistress  Bou- 
lan,  qui  a  este  nourrie  en  France  avecque 
la  feue  Eoyne." — Journal  5  de  May,  MSS. 
de  Brienne,  f.  80.  It  is  plain  that  the  writer 
of  this  journal  had  no  knowledge  of  the  fact 
generally  assumed  as  granted,  that  Anne 
was  just  returned  from  France  after  having 
lived  for  some  years  in  the  family  of  the 
duchess  of  Alencon.  We  have  a  multitude 
of  documents  respecting  her  during  the 
year  1527,  and  a  multitude  of  others  during 
each  succeeding  year  of  her  life,  yet  there 
is  not,  I  believe,  in  all  of  them  together  a 
single  passage  which  by  any  ingenuity  can 
be  tortured  into  a  meaning  allusive  to  her 
•uppowd  connection  with  the  duchess  of 


Alen9on.  The  first  mention  of  this  connec- 
tion, as  far  as  I  can  learn,  occurs  in  Me- 
teren,  the  Dutch  historian  of  the  Nether- 
lands, about  the  end  of  this  century ;  but 
Meteren,  when  he  refers  to  matters  not 
concerning  his  own  country,  betrays  the 
moat  profound  ignorance  or  insincerity. 
Thus,  on  this  very  subject,  he  makes  Anne 
reside  with  the  duchess  of  Alenqon  (the 
queen  of  Navarre)  till  the  year  1532,  when 
she  accompanies  her  mistress  to  the  inter- 
view between  Henry  and  Francis  at  Calais 
and  Boulogne,  where  Henry  sees  her  and 
falls  in  love  with  her.  "Ladite  Anna  Bol- 
lain  demeura  en  France,  premierement  pres 
de  la  Eoyne  Claude,  et  puis  apres  pres  de 
la  Eoyne  de  Navarre,  avec  laquelle  elle  vint 
a  Calais  et  a  Bologne,  ou  les  deux  Eoys  se 
devoyent  entreparier,  ou  le  Eoy  Henry  la 
vid,  et  luy  pleut  tellement  qu'il  ne  reposa 
point,  qu'il  ne  1'eut  en  Angleterre  et  qu'il 
1'eut  espouse'e." — Meteren,  L'Histoire  des 
Pays  Bas,  traduit  de  Flamand  en  Francoya 
par  T.  D.  L.  Huye.  Amstelod.  1670,  fol.  20. 
Now  we  know  that  the  queen  of  Navarre- 
was  not  at  that  interview,  and  that  Henry 

I  himself  took  Anne  with   him  to  it, — Set 

I  later,  c.  iii.  anno  1532. 


238 


HENRY  VIII. 


LCHAP.  viu. 


and  the  danger  of  a  disputed  succes- 
sion.1 Most  of  them,  from  a  passage 
in  Leviticus,  contended  that  no  dis- 
pensation could  authorize  a  marriage 
with  the  widow  of  a  brother;  two 
from  passages  in  Deuteronomy  in- 
ferred, that  the  prohibition  was  not 
universal,  but  admitted  an  exception 
in  the  king's  case,  where  the  first  mar- 
riage had  been  unproductive  of  issue.2 
The  advocates  for  the  divorce  were 
disconcerted  by  this  reply  of  their 
opponents ;  and  abandoning  the  argu- 
ments from  Scripture,  began  to  ques- 
tion the  validity  of  the  dipensation 
on  three  other  grounds:  1.  Because 
it  was  not  sufficiently  ample ;  2.  be- 
cause it  had  been  obtained  under 
false  pretences ;  and  3.  because  it  had 
been  solicited  without  the  consent 
of  Henry,  the  party  chiefly  interested 
in  it. 

At  the  close  of  the  late  negotiation 
it  had  been  agreed  that  Wolsey 
should  proceed  to  the  continent,  that 
he  might  settle  in  person  with  Francis 
certain  points  which  still  remained  in 
suspense.  Of  these,  the  chief,  in  the 
king's  estimation,  regarded  the  pro- 
mised marriage  of  the  princess  Mary. 
How  could  he  give  her,  as  his  heir- 
apparent,  to  Francis,  at  the  moment 
when  he  intended  to  bastardize  her 
by  repudiating  her  mother?  That 
monarch  still  insisted  on  their  union ; 
and  the  most  that  Wolsey  could 
obtain  in  the  conferences  in  April 
was,  that  the  marriage  should  take 
place  either  with  the  king  or  his 
second  son,  the  duke  of  Orleans. 
Henry  would  not  consent  to  the  first 
part  of  this  alternative;  and  there- 
fore imposed  on  his  minister  the  task 
of  persuading  Francis  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  second,  or  to  break  off  the 
intended  marriage  altogether.3  It  was 


with  many  misgivings  that  the  car- 
dinal had  accepted  the  commission. 
He  knew  that  the  advice  came  from 
his  political  enemies,  the  dukes  of 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  and  the  lord 
Rochford,  all  warm  advocates  for  the 
divorce;  and  he  foresaw  that  they 
would  improve  the  opportunity  of  his 
absence  to  undermine  his  credit  with 
the  king,  by  insinuating  that  he  was 
an  enemy  to  it.  Perhaps  he  might 
have  succeeded  in  his  attempt  to 
avoid  this  mission,  had  not  the  news 
arrived  of  the  recent  occurrences  in 
Italy.  The  king,  though  he  felt,  or 
affected  to  feel,  the  deepest  grief  for 
the  misfortunes  of  the  pontiff,  was  not 
blind  to  the  benefits  which  might  be 
derived  from  his  captivity.  It  might 
be  assumed  as  a  proof  of  the  insatiate 
ambition  of  Charles;  it  would  give 
the  sanction  of  religion  to  the  war  in 
which  Henry's  engagements  with 
Francis  would  probably  involve  him ; 
and,  above  all,  it  would  supply  the 
cardinal  with  a  pretext  for  deciding, 
without  the  papal  interference,  the 
question  of  the  divorce  in  his  lega- 
tine  court.  New  prospects  were 
opened ;  new  treaties  were  to  be  ne- 
gotiated ;  and  Wolsey  made  up  his 
mind  to  fulfil  with  apparent  cheerful- 
ness the  pleasure  of  his  sovereign.4 

Hitherto  the  king  had  concealed 
his  thoughts  respecting  a  divorce 
from  the  knowledge  of  the  queen,  an  . 
with  that  view  had  sworn  to  secrecy 
every  individual  to  whom  they  had 
been  communicated.  But  Catherine's 
eyes  had  witnessed  his  partiality  for 
her  maid,  and  her  jealousy  at  last  dis- 
covered the  whole  intrigue.  In  a  fit 
of  passion  she  reproached  him  to  his 
face  with  the  baseness  of  his  conduct; 
attributing  it,  however,  to  the  policy 
of  the  cardinal,  and  to  his  hostility  to 


1  So  much  so  that  Pace,  in  a  letter  to 
Henry,  uses  repeatedly  "  ayenst  you"  or 
"for  you"  as  synonymous  with  "against 
the  divorce,"  "  for  the  divorce." — Knight's 
Erasmus,  App.  p.  xxv. 


*  Levit.    xTiii.    16;    n.   21.     Deuterori. 
xxv.  5.    See  Appendix,  O. 

»  State  Papers,  i.  191. 

*  State  Papers,  191.    Cavendish,  c.  xiii. 


A.D.  1527.  ] 


DEPARTURE  OP  WOLSE5T. 


239 


her  on  account  of  her  family.  After 
a  "shorte  tragedie,"  Henry  appeased 
her.  He  appealed  to  her  piety  ;  and 
protested  that  his  only  object  was  to 
search  out  the  truth,  and  to  tran- 
quillize his  own  conscience.  She  re- 
plied that  she  came  a  virgin  to  his 
bed ;  that  she  would  never  admit  that 
she  had  been  living  in  incest  for 
eighteen  years ;  and  that  she  would 
have,  what  could  not  in  justice  be 
denied  her,  the  aid  of  both  native  and 
foreign  counsel  to  defend  her  right.1 
From  that  moment  all  her  proceed- 
ings were  strictly  watched ;  for  it  was 
become  of  importance  to  cut  her  off 
from  all  communication  with  the  em- 
peror, as  long  as  that  prince  kept  the 
pontiff  in  his  custody.  Still,  in  defiance 
of  every  precaution,  she  found  the 
means  of  sending  information  to  the 
archduchess  in  Flanders,  and  also  to 
her  nephew  in  Spain.2 

In  the  meanwhile  the  cardinal  had 
set  out  on  his  embassy,  having  pre- 
viously begged  of  the  king  by  letter 
to  defend  him  during  his  absence 
against  those  who  might  represent 
him  as  a  covert  opponent  of  the 
divorce.3  As  he  passed  through  Kent 
he  disclosed  the  "king's  secret  mat- 
ter"—so  it  was  called— to  the  prelates 
of  Canterbury  and  Rochester,  telling 
them  that  it  was  first  mooted  by  the 
bishop  of  Tarbes  in  the  late  con- 
ferences, and  soliciting  their  opinion, 
because  he  would  be  called  upon  to 
discuss  the  question  with  the  French 
ministers.4  Crossing  the  sea,  he  en- 
tered France,  where  he  was  received 


with  all  the  distinction  due  to  a 
crowned  head,  because  he  had  been 
appointed  locum-tenens  of  the  king. 
Pageants  were  exhibited  ;  addresses 
were  delivered ;  and  in  every  town 
the  prisons  were  thrown  open  at  his 
command.  These  honours  might  nat- 
ter, they  did  not  satisfy  the  cardinal. 
By  no  messages,  no  prayers,  could  ho 
obtain  permission  to  proceed  to  Paris 
or  prevail  on  the  French  monarch  to 
visit  him.  Francis,  under  different 
pretexts,  kept  Wolsey  at  Abbeville, 
that  he  himself  might  remain  un- 
shackled, till  he  had  ascertained  the 
fate  of  the  proposals  which  the  French 
and  English  ambassadors  had  con- 
jointly made  to  the  emperor.5  They 
were  refused ;  and  then  the  king 
hastened  with  his  court  to  Amiens, 
anxious  to  atone  to  the  cardinal  by 
his  present  attentions  for  his  past 
neglect.  He  knew  that  Charles,  to 
detach  Henry  from  the  alliance,  had 
made  to  him  the  offer  of  Milan,  with 
the  hand  of  the  princess  of  Portugal 
for  the  duke  of  Richmond,  the  king's 
natural  son ;  but  fortunately  Wol- 
sey,  though  his  sovereign  hesitated, 
looked  on  the  overture  as  a  mere 
artifice,6  and  seized  the  opportunity 
to  obtain  from  the  apprehensions  of 
Francis  every  object  which  he  sought. 
On  his  representation  that  no  peace 
could  be  hoped  for  in  Europe  unless 
the  French  king  should  marry  Leo- 
nora, Francis  consented,  though  not 
without  a  real  or  pretended  struggle, 
to  waive  the  claim,  to  the  princess 
Mary.  It  was  agreed  that  she  should 


1  State  Papers,  i.  195, 197. 

2  Ibid.  i.  215,  217,  220,  275. 

3  Ibid.  195.    Wolsey  in  speaking  of  the 
queen's  quarrel  with  Henry,  had  expressed 
a  fear  that  her  obstinacy  would  interpose 
many  impediments  in  the  way  of  the  divorce. 
This  had  been  misrepresented  to  the  king, 
as  a  betrayal  of  his  real  sentiments ;  and 
Henry  had  by  Wolman  reproached  him  with 
insincerity  and  lukewarmness.     He  denied 
the  charge,  "taking  God  to  recorde  that 
there  was  nothing  erthely  that  he  coveted 
BO  much  as  the  avauncvjip'  thereof." — Ibid. 


This  was  on  the  first  of  July,  and  he  set  off 
on  the  third. 

*  I  do  not  believe  his  story.  See  Ap- 
pendix, P. 

5  Tarbet  and  Poyntz  proposed  that 
Charles  should  restore  his  hostages,  the  two 
sons  of  Francis,  and  that  Francis,  in  return, 
should  pay  2,000,000  of  crowns,  should  re- 
sign his  claim  to  Jiaples  and  his  feudal 
superiority  over  Flanders  and  Artois,  and 
leave  Sforza  in  Milan  on  certain  conditions. 
— Vesp.  C.  iv.  146. 

e  State  Papers,  231,  265,  268. 


810 


HENIIY  VIII, 


[CHAP.  viii. 


marry  the  duke  ol  Orleans,  a  boy 
eight  years  old ;  but  that  the  articles 
of  marriage — Mary  throughout  the 
negotiation  was  considered  heir-appa- 
rent—should not  be  settled  till  the 
young  prince  had  attained  the  age  of 
puberty ;  and  that  if,  for  any  reason, 
or  on  account  of  any  event  ivliich  might 
come  to  pass,  the  marriage  did  not 
take  place,  that  failure  should  not 
interrupt  the  friendship  between  the 
crowns,  nor  invalidate  any  provision 
of  the  treaties  concluded  between 
them.  It  was  also  resolved  that,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  expense  of  the 
personal  interview  of  the  two  kings 
formerly  stipulated,  the  present  meet- 
ing of  Francis  and  the  cardinal  should 
be  taken  for  the  fulfilment  of  that 
provision.  Several  questions  respect- 
ing the  subsidy  to  be  paid  by  Henry 
towards  the  Italian  war  were  then 
adjusted;  and  the  two  kings  were 
made  to  unite  in  a  declaration,  that, 
as  long  as  the  pontiff  remained  in 
captivity,  they  would  neither  consent 
to  the  convocation  of  the  general 
council,  nor  admit  any  bull  or  breve 
issued  by  Clement  in  derogation  of 
their  rights,  or  of  the  rights  of  their 
subjects ;  that  during  the  same  period 
the  concerns  of  each  national  church 
should  be  conducted  by  its  own 
bishops;  and  that  the  judgments  of 
"Wolsey  in  his  legatine  court  should, 
in  defiance  of  any  papal  prohibition, 
be  carried  into  execution,  whatever 
might  be  the  rank  of  the  party  con- 
demned ;  a  clause  of  which  the  real, 
though  secret,  object  was  to  invest 
Wolsey  with  unlimited  power  in  the 
trial  of  the  divorce,  and  to  deprive 


Catherine  of  any  aid  from  the 
authority  of  the  pontiff.1 
'  Whilst  the  ambassador  was  em- 
ployed in  these  treaties,  Henry,  afc 
the  persuasion  of  Wakefield,  profes- 
sor of  Hebrew  in  the  university  of 
Oxford,  had  resumed  the  plan  so 
recently  abandoned,  and  had  resolved 
to  rest  his  cause  on  the  prohibition  in 
Leviticus.2  With  this  view  a  treatise 
was  composed.  The  materials  may 
have  been  furnished  by  others;  but 
the  king  laboured  assiduously  at  the 
work  himself,  and  fortified  his  case 
with  every  argument  and  authority 
which  his  reading  or  ingenuity  could 
supply.3  The  result  was  such  as  might 
have  been  anticipated.  He  convinced 
himself  by  his  own  reasoning ;  he  be- 
lieved that  no  impartial  judge  could 
pronounce  against  him ;  he  began  to 
look  upon  every  man  as  an  enemy 
who  dared  to  doubt  of  the  success  of 
his  cause.  In  this  temper  of  mind 
it  was  with  deep  displeasure  that  he 
read  the  letters  of  the  cardinal  from 
France,  detailing  the  difficulties  which 
must  arise  from  the  observance  of  ju- 
dicial forms,  the  opposition  of  the 
emperor,  and  the  obstinacy,  the  pro- 
tests, and  the  appeals  of  Catherine; 
representing  the  objections  which 
might  be  opposed  to  the  legitimacy 
of  the  king's  issue  by  a  future  wife, 
unless  the  judgment  to  be  pronounced 
by  himself  were  confirmed  by  the  pon- 
tiff; and  suggesting  a  variety  of  ex- 
pedients, all  of  uncertain  result,  but 
all  tending  to  his  own  aggrandizement. 
Henry  rejected  these  suggestions,  and 
let  him  know  that  they  were  thought 
to  proceed  more  from  a  wish  to  gratify 


1  State  Papers,  135— 253.256-263.    Rym. 
xiv.  203-227. 

2  See  the  narrative  of  Pole  (cum  hie  causa 
labare  videretnr  ministri  puellae  pro  se  quis- 
que  illam  suffulciunt,  fol.  Ixxvi.),  and  Wake- 
field's  letters  in  Knight's  Erasmus,  App. 
sxv.    This  man's  vanity  prompted  kirn  to 
assert,  that  he  could  Bring  forward  argu- 
ments for  either  side,  unknown  to  any  other 
»wi  in  the  kingdom.    Ee  was  originally 


against  the  king,  but  became  his  advocate 
when  he  was  told  that  the  marriage  with 
Arthur  had  been  consummated. 

3  Henry  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Anne 
writes,  that  his  book  maketh  substantially 
for  his  purpose — that  he  had  been  writing  it 
four  hours  that  day — and  then  concludes 
with  expressions  too  indelicate  to  be  tran- 
scribed.—Hearne's  Avesbury,  300. 


.D.  1527.] 


WOLSEY'S  RECALL 


211 


his  own  ambition  than  to  promote  the 
cause  of  his  sovereign.1  It  was  in 
vain  that  Wolsey  despatched  the 
bishop  of  Bath  to  explain  what  he 
considered  the  real  state  of  the  ques- 
tion ;  that  he  declared  himself  "  ready 
to  expose  his  body,  life,  and  blood  for 
the  achieving  of  the  royal  interest."2 
The  king's  distrust  was  now  too 
deeply  rooted ;  he  refused  to  give 
his  confidence  to  the  agents  employed 
by  Wolsey,  resolved  to  negotiate  with 
the  pope  through  an  envoy  of  his 
own;  and  selected  for  that  mission 
his  secretary  Knight,  though  the 
cardinal  pronounced  him  unfit  for 
so  delicate  an  office.  Knight  was 
ordered  to  call  on  Wolsey  in  his 
way,  and  to  ask  his  advice  as  to  the 
best  means  of  gaining  access  to 
Clement,  but  on  no  account  to  com- 
municate to  him  the  instructions 
which  he  had  received. 

The  envoy  found  Wolsey  at  Com- 
peigne,  where  he  had  gone  to  pay 
his  respects  to  Louise,  the  mother  of 
Francis,  and  delivered  to  him  a  letter 
of  recall  from  Henry,  accompanied, 
however,  with  another  in  the  king's 
own  hand,  thanking  him  for  his 
services  during  the  negotiation  at 
Amiens.3  Having  hastily  collected 


the  French  cardinals,  Le  prevailed 
on  them  to  join  him  in  a  common 
letter  to  Clement,  ia  which  they 
acquainted  the  pontiff  with  the  pro- 
visions of  the  late  treaty  respecting 
the  acts  which  might  be  done  by  him 
in  prison,  and  solicited  him  to  appoint 
a  delegate  for  the  exercise  of  tho 
pal  power  on  this  side  of  the 
Alps  during  his  captivity."  He  then- 
proceeded  to  take  his  leave  of  tho 
king  and  his  mother,  and  to  give 
them,  for  the  first  time,  as  had  been 
previously  devised,5  a  hint  of  the 
intended  divorce,  but  "  in  so  dark 
and  cloudy  a  sorte,"  that  his  real 
meaning  might  be  an  enigma  to  be 
disclosed  by  the  event.  With  this 
view  he  assured  Louise — probably  he 
did  the  same  to  Francis— that,  "if 
she  lived  another  year,  she  should 
see  as  great  union  on  one  side,  and 
disunion  on  the  other,  as  she  would 
ask  or  wish  for."  "  These,"  he  added, 
"  were  not  idle  words.  Let  her  treasure 
them  up  in  her  memory ;  time  would 
explain  them."6  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  he  meant  the  divorce  of 
Henry  from  Catherine,  and  a  mar- 
riage between  Henry  and  the  French 
princess,  probably  Renee,  daughter  of 
Louis  XII.7 


1  See  State  Papers,  230,  254,  267,  270. 
This  letter,  full  of  reproof,  was  written 
"  with  the  privity"  of  the  cardinal's  enemies 
in  the  cabinet,  the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,  and  the  lord  Rochford ;  but  at  the 
same  time  another  letter  was  written  with- 
out their  privity,  in  which  the  king  gave 
him  most  hearty  thanks,  for  his  prudence 
in  postponing  the  disclosure  of  the  secret 
matter  to  Francis,  and  for  his  devices  to 
procure  its  success  with  the  pontiff.— Ellis, 
3  ser.  ii.  88. 

2(Ibid.  273.  When  the  bishop  urged  the 
difficulties  foreseen  by  the  cardinal,  the 
king  replied  "that  he  had  studied  the 
matter  himself,  and  found  the  marriage  un- 
lawful jure  divino,  and  undispensable."  As 
for  delay,  he  cared  not  for  it.  He  had 
waited  eighteen  years,  and  could  wait  four 
or  five  more ;  and  with  respect  to  the 
queen's  supposed  appeal,  he  did  not  expect 
that  she  would  appeal  from  the  judgment  of 
the  prelates  of  Canterbury,  Kochester,  Ely, 
and  London.  Bath  asked,  if  she  might  not 


be  induced  to  enter  a  convent,  or  he  might 
not  consider  quid  posset  clam  fieri  in  foro 
conscientise.  Henry  quickly  replied,  "  My 
lord  of  Bath,  the  bull  is  good  or  it  is  naught. 
If  it  ia  naught,  let  it  be  so  declared;  and, 
if  it  be  good,  it  shall  never  be  broken  by  no 
byways  by  me."— Bath's  letter  of  Aug.  30, 
apud  Herb.  99. 

3  He  thanks  the  king  most  gratefully  for 
this  condescension,  and  takes  God  to  be  his 
judge,  that  whatever  opinion  the  king 
might  have  formed  through  report  or  sug- 
gestion, he  had  no  notion  of  private  power 
or  profit,  but  only  of  the  advancement  of 
the  king's  secret  affair.— State  Pap.  277,  8. 

*  Le  Grand,  iii.  4.     Guicciard.  xviii.  78. 

s  "  Handling  the  same  after  such  a  cloudy 
and  dark  sorte  that  he  fahai  not  knowe  your 
grace's  utter  determynacion  and  intent  in 
that  behalf,  till  your  highness  shall  see  to 
what  effect  the  same  wol  be  brought."- 
Stat.  Pap.  260,  261.  6  Le  Grand,  iii.  1M, 

7  Id.  168.    See  Appendix,  Q. 


242 


HENRY  VIII. 


f  CHAP.  VIII 


The  cardinal  was  followed  to  Eng- 
land by  ambassadors  from  Francis, 
who  brought  to  Henry  the  decora- 
tions of  the  order  of  St.  Michael. 
Soon  afterwards  the  king  took  an 
opportunity  of  communicating  to 
"Wolsey  his  fixed  determination  to 
marry  Anne  Boleyn.  The  minister 
received  the  intelligence  with  grief 
and  dismay.  The  disparity  of  her 
birth,  the  danger  of  being  supplanted 
by  a  rival  family,  the  loss  of  the 
French  interest,  which  he  hoped  to 
secure  by  a  future  marriage  with  a 
French  princess,  and  the  additional 
difficulties  which  this  resolution 
would  throw  in  the  way  of  the 
divorce,  crowded  upon  his  mind. 
On  his  knees  he  besought  the  king 
to  recede  from  a  project  which  would 
cover  him  with  disgrace ;'  but,  aware 
of  the  royal  temper,  he  soon  desisted 
from  his  opposition,  became  a  convert 
to  the  measure  which  he  could  not 
avert,  and  laboured  by  his  subsequent 
services  to  atone  for  the  crime  of 
having  dared  to  dispute  the  pleasure 
of  his  sovereign.  The  king's  case 
or  treatise  was  now  laid  before  Sir 
Thomas  More,  who,  pleading  his 
ignorance  of  theology,  suspended  his 
judgment;  and  before  the  bishop  of 
Rochester,  who,  having  maturely 
weighed  the  arguments  on  both 
sides,  gave  an  opinion  unfavourable 
to  the  divorce.2  It  was  to  no  pur- 
pose that  the  cardinal  employed  his 
eloquence  and  authority ;  that  he 
repeatedly  held  assemblies  of  prelates 
and  divines ;  few  could  be  induced  to 


pronounce  in  favour  of  the  king;3  and 
the  most  that  he  could  obtain  was  a 
declaration,  that  the  motives  alleged 
by  Henry  furnished  a  reasonable 
ground  for  scruple,  and  that,  for 
the  ease  of  his  conscience,  he  ought 
to  refer  the  matter  to  the  Holy  See, 
and  abide  by  its  decision.4  With  the 
nation  at  large  the  royal  cause  was 
unpopular.  The  fate  of  a  princess 
who  had  for  so  many  years  been 
acknowledged  as  queen,  and  who  had 
displayed  in  that  situation  every 
virtue  which  could  grace  a  throne, 
was  calculated  to  awaken  in  her 
favour  the  feelings  of  the  public ;  and 
those  who  could  not  appreciate  the 
real  merits  of  the  question  were 
prompted  to  prefer  her  cause  from 
their  opposition  to  the  cardinal,  the 
supposed  author  of  the  project ;  their 
detestation  of  the  present  alliance 
with  France,  the  ancient  enemy  of 
England;  and  their  fears  that  the 
divorce  would  lead  to  the  interrup- 
tion of  that  advantageous  intercourse 
which  had  subsisted  for  centuries  be- 
tween this  island  and  the  emperor's 
subjects  in  the  Netherlands.5 

One  great  point,  which  exercised 
and  perplexed  the  ingenuity  of  the 
royal  advisers,  was  to  effect  the  divorce 
in  so  firm  and  legal  a  manner,  that 
no  objection  might  be  afterwards 
raised  to  the  legitimacy  of  the  king's 
issue  by  a  subsequent  marriage.  For 
three  months  instructions  were  issued 
and  revoked,  amended  and  renewed, 
to  the  royal  agent  in  Italy,  Dr. 
Knight,  to  Wolsey's  agents,  the 


1  Cavendish,  p.  416.  The  reasons  are 
frequently  mentioned  by  the  bishop  of 
Bayonne,  as  having  been  communicated  to 
him  by  Wolsey. 

*  More's  Works,  p.  1425.    Fisher's  letter 
(anno  1627)  in  Fiddes,  p.  148. 

s  Peu  de  leurs  doc  tears  veulent  conde- 
scendre  a  leur  opinion.  L'^veque  de  Ba- 
yonne, apud  Le  Grand,  iii.  205.  Initio 
causa  tua  una  cum  iis,  qui  ipsins  patro- 
cinium  susceperant,  in  ipso  tuo  regno  ex 
omnibus  schoiis  explosa  est. — Pole,  f.  Ixxvii. 

*  Eym.  jriv,  301.    This  document  is  dated 


July  1, 1529.  But  that  date  refers  merely 
to  the  certificate  itself;  the  consultation 
which  it  describes  is  evidently  the  same  as 
is  mentioned  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  1425. 

5  These  particulars  are  extracted  from 
the  letters  of  the  bishop  of  Bayonne,  apud 
Le  Grand,  iii.  76,  81,  85,  96, 169.  Wake- 
field  says  ia  one  of  his  letters,  that  if  the 
people  Jmew  that  he  was  writing  against  the 
queen,  he  should  be  stoned  to  death. — 
Knight's  Erasmus,  App.  xxviii.  Pole  also 
says,  ipsis  etiam  defensoribus  (caTisae  tuse) 
vario  contumeuse  genere  affectis,— Pole,  foV 
Ixxvii. 


A.D.  1527.1 


NEGOTIATION  WITH  CLEMENT. 


243 


three  brothers  Da  Casale,  and  to 
Staphilseo,  dean  of  the  Rota,  whose 
approbation  of  the  divorce  had  been 
obtained  in  his  late  visit  to  London. 
The  emperor,  on  the  other  hand,  had 
professed  a  determination  to  support 
the  honour  of  his  aunt;  and  demanded 
of  the  pontiff,  who,  to  procure  pro- 
visions, had  been  compelled  to  admit 
the  imperialists  into  the  castle  of  St. 
Angelo,  an  inhibition  to  prevent  the 
cause  from  being  tried  before  any 
judge  in  England,  with  a  promise 
that  he  would  not  consent  to  any 
act  preparatory  to  a  divorce,  without 
the  previous  knowledge  of  Charles 
himself.  To  the  last  of  these  demands 
Clement  assented ;  but  he  refused  the 
first,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  con- 
trary to  the  established  usage. 

In  the  meanwhile  a  French  army 
commanded  by  Lautrec,  and  accom- 
panied by  Sir  Robert  Jerningham, 
the  English  commissary,  had  crossed 
the  Alps  for  the  avowed  purpose  of 
liberating  the  pope  from  confine- 
ment. Lombardy  was  soon  con- 
quered ;  in  his  haste  to  reach 
Rome,  the  French  general  left  Milan 
behind  him,  and  marched  with  ex- 
pedition to  Piacenza ;  but  there  he 
unaccountably  loitered  for  weeks, 
concluding  useless  alliances  with  the 
petty  princes  of  Italy.  The  patience 
of  Clement  was  exhausted  by  these 
delays ;  a  negotiation  was  opened 
between  him  and  his  captors ;  and 
it  was  agreed  that,  on  the  payment 


1  The  treaty  is  in  Le  Grand,  iii.  48. 

2  This  dispensation  was  thought  necessary 
to  secure  the  intended  marriage  with  Anne 
Boleyn  from  two  objections,  which  might 
afterwards  be  brought  against  it.    1.  A  sus- 
picion was  entertained  that  she  had  been 
actually  contracted  to  Percy,  and  was  there- 
fore his  lawful  wife.    On  this  account  the 
dispensation  was    made    to    authorize  the 
king's  marriage  with  any  woman,  etiamsi 
talis  sit,  quae  prius  cum  alio  contraxerit, 
dummodo  illud   carnali  copula  non  fuerit 
consummatum.    2.  Mary  Boleyn  had  been 
Henry's  mistress.      Now  the  relationship 
between  sister  and  sister  is  as  near  as  the 
relationship  between  brother  and  brother ; 


of  part  of  his  ransom,  he  should  be 
restored  to  liberty,  and  on  the  pay- 
ment of  another  part,  his  states 
should  be  evacuated  by  the  impe- 
rialists. Observing,  however,  that 
the  vigilance  of  his  keepers  began 
to  relax,  he  contrived  to  escape  one 
evening  in  the  disguise  of  a  gardener, 
and  reached  in  safety  the  strong 
city  of  Orvieto.  There  the  first 
who  waited  on  him  were  the  Eng 
lish  envoys.  They  congratulated  the 
pontiff  on  the  recovery  of  his  liberty, 
but  required  his  immediate  attention 
to  the  requests  of  their  sovereign. 

To  Clement  nothing  could  have 
happened  more  distressing  than  this 
untimely  visit.  Bound  to  Henry  by 
the  ties  of  gratitude,  he  was  unwil- 
ling to  disoblige  his  benefactor ;  with 
his  capital  and  his  states  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  imperialists,  he  dreaded 
to  provoke  the  resentment  of  the 
emperor.  The  envoys  presented  to 
him  for  signature  two  instruments, 
by  the  first  of  which  he  would  em- 
power Wolsey  (in  case  of  objection  to 
"Wolsey  they  were  permitted  to  sub- 
stitute Staphilseo)  to  hear  and  decide 
the  cause  of  the  divorce;  by  the 
second  he  would  grant  to  Henry  a 
dispensation  to  marry,  in  the  place 
of  Catherine,  any  other  woman 
whomsoever,  even  if  she  were  already 
promised  to  another,  or  related  to 
himself  within  the  first  degree  of 
affinity.5  The  latter  he  signed  with- 
out any  alteration,  the  former,  after 


whence  it  was  argued  that,  if  Henry,  as  he 
contended,  could  not  validly  marry  Cathe- 
rine, on  the  supposition  that  she  had  been 
carnally  known  by  his  brother  Arthur, 
so  neither  could  Anne  validly  marry  Henry, 
because  he  had  carnally  known  her  sister 
Mary.  On  this  account  the  folio  wing  clause 
was  introduced.  Etiamsi  ilia  tibi  alias  se- 
cundo  aut  remotiore  consanguinitatis  aut 
primo  affinitatis  gradu,  etiam  ex  quocumquo 
licito  seu  illicito  coitu  proveniente,  iuyicem 
conjuncta  sit,  dummodo  relicta  fratris  tui 
non  fuerit. — See  the  dispensation  in  Her- 
bert, p.  294.  Thus  the  king  was  placed  in 
a  most  singular  situation,  compelled  to 
acknowledge  in  the  pontiff  a  power  which 
E2 


VIII. 


f  CHAP,  via 


it  had  been  composed  in  a  new  style 
"by  the  cardinal  Santi  Quatri ;  but, 
in  delivering  these  instruments  to 
Knight,  he  observed  that  he  had 
sacrificed  the  considerations  of  pru- 
dence to  those  of  gratitude ;  that  his 
safety,  perhaps  bis  life,  now  depended 
on  the  generosity  of  the  king;  that 
prince  might  make  what  use  of  the 
commission  he  deemed  proper;  but, 
if  he  would  wait  till  the  evacuation  of 
the  papal  territories  should  secure 
the  pontiff  from  the  actual  resent- 
ment of  Charles,  or  till  the  approach 
of  the  French  army  under  Lautrec 
could  furnish  him  with  an  excuse  for 
his  conduct,  a  second  commission  of 
similar  import  might  be  issued,  and 
the  king  would  obtain  the  same  object 
without  compromising  the  safety  of 
his  friend.  But  whether  the  English 
cabinet  knew  not  what  course  to 
prefer,  or  sought  to  draw  from  the 
pontiff  more  important  concessions, 
Knight  had  scarcely  left  Orvieto, 
when  Gregorio  da  Casale  was  in- 
structed to  request  that  a  legate  from 
Borne  might  be  sent  to  England, 
and  joined  in  the  commission  with 
Wolsey.  To  this  also  Clement  as- 
sented, offering  to  Henry  the  choice 
out  of  six  cardinals ;  but  added,  "  the 
king  is  said  by  some  to  have  chosen  a 
most  circuitous  route.  If  he  be  con- 
vinced in  his  conscience,  as  he  affirms, 
that  his  present  marriage  is  null, 
he  might  marry  again.  This  would 
enable  me,  or  the  legate,  to  decide 
the  question  at  once.  Otherwise  it  is 
plain  that  by  appeals,  exceptions,  and 
adjournments,  the  cause  must  be  pro- 
tracted for  many  years."1 

In  the  mean  time  Wolsey  urged  his 
sovereign  to  the  faithful  performance 


of  those  engagements  which  he  had 
lately  contracted  with  the  king  of 
France.  The  ambassadors  from  the 
two  powers  were  recalled  from  the 
imperial  court  on  the  same  day ;  and 
Clarenceaux  and  Guienne,  kings-at- 
arms,  defied  Charles  in  the  names 
of  their  respective  sovereigns.  To 
Guienne  the  emperor  replied  that 
the  defiance  was  superfluous,  since  he 
and  Francis  had  long  been  at  war; 
but  to  Clarenceaux  he  delivered  an 
eloquent  justification  of  his  own  con- 
duct, coupled  with  a  sharp  remon- 
strance against  that  of  the  cardinal. 
In  this  paper  he  acknowledges  the 
moneys  which  he  had  borrowed  of 
Henry,  and  professes  his  readiness  to 
repay  them  in  due  time  and  manner, 
on  the  recovery  of  his  bonds  and 
pledges ;  but  he  strongly  denies  any 
obligation  of  indemnity  to  the  king 
of  England  for  the  suspension  of  those 
annual  rents  which  Francis  had  re- 
fused to  pay  during  the  last  war  ; 
because  he  had  received  a  promise 
from  the  cardinal  that  no  indemnity 
should  ever  be  demanded,  and  because 
Francis  had  taken  the  debt  upon  him- 
self by  the  treaties  both  of  Madrid 
aad  of  London.  Neither  was  he 
liable  to  the  stipulated  penalty  for 
the  breach  of  his  promise  to  marry 
the  princess  Mary,  since  Henry  had 
refused  to  allow  the  solemnization  of 
the  nuptials  when  it  was  demanded, 
and  had  signified  his  consent  to  the 
marriage  of  the  emperor  with  Isabella. 
"  God  grant,"  he  added,  "  that  I  may 
not  have  better  reason  to  defy  him, 
than  he  has  to  defy  me.  Can  I 
pass  over  the  injury  with  which  he 
threatens  my  aunt  by  his  application 
for  a  divorce ;  or  the  insult  which  he 


he  at  the  same  time  denied,  and  to  solicit  a 
dispensation  of  the  very  same  nature  with 
that  which  he  maintained  to  be  invalid. 

1  See  the  records  in  Strype,  i.  46—75,  and 
Burnet,  i.  Ree.  ii.  No.  iii.  iv.  v.  vi.  He  tells 
ns,  from  a  letter  of  Knight's,  that  the  car 
dinal  Santi  Quatri  "  got  4,000  crowns  as  the 
reward  of  his  pains,  and  in  earnest  of  what 


he  was  to  expect  when  the  matter  should  be 
brought  to  a  conclusion"  (p.  48).  But  this 
is  a  mistake.  From  a  posterior  despatch  of 
the  31st  of  May,  it  appears  that  2,000 
crowns  had  been  offered  in  testimonium 
acceptse  gratitudinis,  but  that  he  could  not 
be  prevailed  upon  to  accept  a  penny.— 
Strype,  i.  App.  p.  51. 


A.D.  1528.] 


POPULAR  DISCONTENT. 


215 


has  offered  to  me  by  soliciting  me 
to  marry  a  daughter  whom  he  now 
pronounces  a  bastard?  But  I  am 
perfectly  aware  from  whom  these 
suggestions  proceed.  I  would  not 
satisfy  the  rapacity  of  the  cardinal 
of  York,  nor  employ  my  forces  to 
seat  him  in  the  chair  of  St.  Peter; 
and  he  in  return  has  sworn  to  be 
revenged,  and  now  seeks  to  fulfil  his 
purpose.  But  if  war  ensue,  let  the 
blood  that  must  be  shed  rest,  where 
it  ought,  on  the  head  of  him  who  was 
the  original  instigator  of  it."1 

In  England  the  popular  feeling  was 
openly  and  unequivocally  expressed. 
The  merchants  refused  to  frequent 
the  new  marts  which  had  been 
opened  in  France,  as  substitutes  for 
those  in  the  Netherlands;  the  wool- 
carders,  spinners,  and  clothiers  could 
procure  no  sale  for  their  manufac- 
tures, and  the  spirit  of  disaffection  so 
rapidly  and  widely  diffused  itself,  that 
the  royal  officers  were  instructed  to 
watch  and  suppress  the  first  symp- 
toms of  insurrection.  In  the  cabinet 
all  the  members  excepting  Wolsey 
were  secretly  hostile  to  the  French 
alliance,  and  anxiously  waited  for  the 
first  reverse  of  fortune  to  effect  the 
ruin  of  the  favourite.  Even  Henry 
himself  was  disposed  to  peace,  in  the 
hope  that  a  reconciliation  with  the 
emperor  might  induce  that  prince  to 


withdraw  his  opposition  to  the  divorce, 
and  thus  liberate  Clement  from  the 
fear  of  incurring  his  resentment. 
Wolsey  stood  alone  ;  but  fortunately 
an  overture  was  made  by  the  arch- 
duchess Margaret,  the  governess  of 
the  Netherlands;  a  negotiation  fol- 
lowed; and,  after  several  ineffectual 
attempts  to  conclude  a  general  peace, 
an  armistice  for  eight  months  wa* 
signed  between  England  and  the  Low 
Countries,  while  hostilities  should 
still  continue  between  England  and 
Spain.8 

When  Wolsey  first  solicited  the 
commission  and  dispensation,  he 
must  have  been  aware  that  the 
pontiff  would  still  be  at  liberty  to 
revoke  the  cause  from  England  to 
his  own  court,  or  to  revise  the  sen- 
tence which  might  be  pronounced  by 
his  delegates.  He  now  ventured  to 
proceed  a  step  further.  The  secre- 
tary, Dr.  Stephen  Gardiner,  a  man 
eminently  versed  in  the  civil  and 
canon  law,3  and  the  king's  almoner, 
Dr.  Edward  Fox,  a  most  earnest 
advocate  for  the  divorce,  were  ap- 
pointed agents,  with  instructions  to 
call  at  Paris  for  recommendatory 
letters  from  the  French  king,  to 
hasten  thence  to  Venice,  where  they 
were  to  demand  the  restoration  of 
Ravenna  and  Cervia  to  the  Roman 
church,  a  restoration  which  Clement 


1  I  have  abridged  this  interesting  docu- 
ment, which  is  published  by  Le  Grand,  iii. 
27-48. 

2  These  particulars  are  taken  from  the 
despatches    of    the    French    ambassadors 
published  by  Le  Grand,  iii.  81—105.    He 
says    of   the    cardinal    (February    6),    Je 
pense  qu'il  est  le  seul  en  Angleterre,  qui 
veult  la  guerre  en  Flandres  ;  and  Feb.  23, 
Pensez,  que  ce  n'est  peu  de  frais,  que  sous- 
tenir  nne  chose  centre  tous  les  aultres,  et 
avoir  le  tort,  au  moins  de  ce  qui  se  peult 
veoir  le  plus  pres  de  son  coste.     See  also 
Hall,  72,  73,  76.    Sir  Thomas  More,  who 
was  one  tf  the  council,  tells  us  that,  when 
the  others  advised  the  king  to  remain  at 
peace,  and  leave  Charles  and  Francis  to 
quarrel  by  themselves,  the  cardinal  always 
repeated  a  fable  of  certain  wise  men,  who 
foresaw  that  a  great  rain  was  coming  which 
would  make  fools  of  all  whom  it  should  fall 


upon,  and  to  escape  it  hid  themselves  under 
ground  ;  but  when  they  came  out  they 
found  the  fools  so  numerous,  that  instead 
of  governing  them  they  were  forced  to 
submit  to  be  governed  by  them.  Whence 
he  inferred  that,  if  the  English  sat  still 
while  the  fools  fought,  the  fools  would  at 
last  unite  and  fall  upon  them.  "  I  will  not 
dispute,"  he  adds,  "  upon  his  grace's  coun- 
sayle,  and  I  truste  we  never  made  warre  but 
as  reason  woulde.  But  yet  this  fable  for 
hys  parte  dydde  in  hys  dayes  help  the  king 
and  the  realme  to  spend  many  a  rayro 
penye.  But  that  geare  ia  passed,  and  hys 
grace  is  gone ;  our  Lorde  asaoyle  his  soule." 
—More,  1436.  See  also  State  Pap.  i.  285; 


and  Rym.  xiv.  259. 

3    Wol 


ilaey  calls  him,  primarium  secretis- 
simorum  consiliorum  secretarium,  mei  dirni* 
ilium,  et  quo  neminem  habeo  cariorem,— 
Burnet,  Kec.  No.  viii. 


846 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VIII. 


most  anxiously  desired;  and  from 
Venice  to  proceed  to  Orvieto,  call  to 
their  aid  Staphilseo,  and  the  brothers 
Gregorio  and  Vincenzo  da  Casale,  and 
by  their  united  efforts  extort  from 
the  gratitude  or  timidity  of  the  pontiff 
his  signature  to  two  instruments 
which  had  been  sent  from  England. 
Of  these,  one  was  a  dispensation  of 
the  same  import  with  the  preceding, 
but  in  more  ample  form ;  the  second 
was  called  a  decretal  bull,  in  which  | 
the  pope  was  made  to  pronounce  in 
favour  of  the  prohibition  in  Leviticus, 
and  to  declare  that  it  was  part  of  the 
divine  law,  admitting  of  no  exception 
nor  dispensation.1 

It  had  been  insinuated  to  Clement 
that  the  real  object  of  the  king  was 
to  gratify  the  ambition  of  a  woman 
who  had  sacrificed  her  honour  to  his 
passion,  on  condition  that  he  should 
raise  her  to  the  throne ;  but  after  the 
perusal  of  a  letter  from  Wolsey  he 
believed,  or  at  least  professed  to 
believe,  that  Anne  Boleyn  was  a  lady 
of  unimpeachable  character,  and  that 
the  suit  of  Henry  proceeded  from 
sincere  and  conscientious  scruples.2 
To  the  agents  he  replied  that  he  was 
bound  in  gratitude  to  grant  to  the 
king  every  indulgence  compatible 
with  honour  and  equity,  and  would 
immediately  sign  the  dispensation, 
because  it  could  not  affect  in  its  con- 
sequences the  interests  of  any  third 
person.  But  with  respect  to  the 
decretal  bull,  he  demurred;  a  con- 
gregation of  cardinals  and  theologians 
was  convened ;  and  it  was  unani- 
mously agreed  that  to  issue  such  a 
bull  would  be  to  determine  a  point  of 


doctrine  which  had  hitherto  been  freely 
discussed  in  the  schools,  and  to  con- 
demn both  the  permission  in  Deute- 
ronomy and  the  conduct  of  Julius  II. 
After  a  long  but  ineffectual  struggle, 
Gardiner  abandoned  this  point;  but 
he  adduced  so  many  objections  against 
the  allegations  on  which  the  original 
dispensation  had  been  granted,  urged 
with  so  much  success  the  services  of 
Henry  to  the  Holy  See,  and  so  dis- 
creetly interwove  threats  with  his 
entreaties,  that  a  second  congregation 
was  called,  in  which  it  was  resolved 
that  a  commission  might  issue  to 
examine  into  the  validity  of  the  dis- 
pensation, since  it  was  said  on  many 
accounts  to  have  been  surreptitiously 
obtained.  Such  a  commission  was 
accordingly  prepared,  not  in  the 
terms  required  by  the  agents,  but  in 
the  most  ample  form  which  the  papal 
council  would  admit,  authorizing 
"Wolsey,  with  the  aid  of  any  one  of 
the  other  English  prelates,  to  in- 
quire summarily,  and  without  judicial 
forms,  into  the  validity  of  the  dispen- 
sation granted  by  Julius,  and  of  the 
marriage  between  Henry  and  Cathe- 
rine ;  to  pronounce,  in  defiance  of 
exception  or  appeal,  the  dispensa- 
tion sufficient  or  surreptitious,  the 
marriage  valid  or  invalid,  according 
to  the  conviction  of  his  cons«ience; 
and  to  divorce  the  parties,  if  it  were 
invalid,  but  at  the  same  time  to  legi- 
timate their  issue,  if  such  legitima- 
tion were  desired.* 

When  Pox,  who  returned  imme- 
diately to  England,  explained  the  pur- 
port of  these  instruments  to  Henry 
and  Anne  Boleyn,  the  king  declared 


1  Ho  copy  of  the  decretal  bull  is  extant. 
Bat  that  such  was  its  purport  is  plain  from 
the  despatches  in  Strype,  i.  App.  66,  60,  77. 

8  Strype,  i.  App.  48. 

8  Compare  the  records  in  Strype  (46—75) 
with  PaUavicino,  i.  262.  Burnet  has  pub- 
lished, under  the  name  of  the  decretal  bull, 
the  commission  such  as  it  was  penned  in 
England.  (Records,  ii.  No.  x.)  By  it  in- 
quiry was  to  be  made  whether  peace  could 
not  have  been  preserved  between  England 


and  Spain  without  the  marriage  of  Henry 
and  Catherine,  whether  Henry  really  de- 
sired the  marriage  for  that  purpose,  and 
whether  Isabella,  the  queen,  named  in  the 
deed,  was  alive  at  the  time  of  the  marriage ; 
and  the  legate  was  authorized  to  pronounce 
the  dispensation  insufficient,  in  case  any 
one  of  these  questions  were  determined  in 
the  negative.  This  was  refused.  The  real 
commission  sent  from  Orvieto  may  be  seen 
in  "Rytner,  xiv.  237. 


A.D.  1528.J 


PEltPLEXITY  o*  WO.LSEY. 


247 


himself  satisfied ;  his  mistress  in  the 
tumult  of  her  joy  mistook  both  per- 
sons and  things,  and  expressed  in  the 
most  significant  terms  her  gratitude 
for  the  services  of  the  agent.  But  by 
Wolsey  the  commission  was  received 
with  feelings  of  alarm  and  disappoint- 
ment; in  an  assembly  of  canonists 
and  divines  every  clause  was  sub- 
jected to  the  most  minute  examina- 
tion; and  numerous  explanations, 
additions,  and  corrections  were  sug- 
gested. These  were  immediately  for- 
warded to  Gardiner  with  new  instruc- 
tions to  require  that  Cardinal 
Campeggio  should  be  joined  in  the 
commission  with  his  English  brother, 
as  a  prelate  more  experienced  in  the 
forms  of  the  Roman  courts.1 

Wolsey  had  at  first  persuaded  him- 
self that  a  divorce  might  be  justly 
pronounced,  on  the  ground  that  the 
original  dispensation  had  been  issued 
without  the  knowledge  of  Henry, 
one  of  the  parties  concerned.  He 
now  began  to  hesitate ;  and  took  the 
opportunity  of  declaring  to  the  king 
at  one  of  the  consultations,  that 
though  he  was  bound  in  gratitude,  and 
was  ready  "  to  spend  his  goods,  blood, 
and  life/'  in  the  service  of  his  high- 
ness, yet  he  was  under  greater  obliga- 
tions to  God,  at  whose  tribunal  he 
would  have  to  render  an  account  of 
his  actions,  and  therefore  was  deter- 
mined to  show  the  king  no  more 
favour  than  justice  required ;  and 
if  he  found  the  dispensation  sufficient 
in  law,  "  so  to  pronounce  it,  whatever 
might  be  the  consequence."  Henry 
at  the  moment  suppressed  his  feel- 


ings ;  but  in  a  short  time  gave  way  to 
his  anger  in  language  the  most  oppro- 
brious and  alarming.2  Wolsey  saw 
the  danger  which  threatened  him. 
Without  a  divorce,  his  power,  and 
fortune,  and  perhaps  his  life,  were  at 
stake ;  with  a  divorce,  the  prospect 
was  hardly  less  gloomy.  Anne  Boleyn 
was  not  his  friend.  Her  relatives 
and  advisers  were  his  rivals  and  ene- 
mies; and  he  knew  that  they  only 
waited  for  the  expected  marriage  to 
effect  his  downfall  with  the  aid  of  her 
influence  over  the  mind  of  the  king. 
To  be  prepared  for  the  worst,  he 
hastened  to  complete  his  different 
buildings,  and  to  procure  the  legal 
endowment  of  his  colleges;  and  in 
discourse  with  his  confidential  friends 
assured  them,  that,  as  soon  as  the 
divorce  should  be  pronounced,  and 
the  succession  to  the  crown  be  per- 
manently established,  he  would  retire 
from  court,  and  devote  his  remain- 
ing days  to  his  ecclesiastical  duties. 
They  believed,  however,  that  he  would 
cling  to  his  situation  to  the  very 
last ;  and  when  he  could  no  longer 
retain  it,  would  attempt  to  conceal  his 
despair  under  the  mask  of  a  voluntary 
resignation.3 

With  these  views  the  cardinal  de- 
spatched new  instructions  to  the 
envoys  at  Rome,  and  wrote  a  most 
urgent  and  supplicating  letter  to  the 
pontiff.  In  it  he  appealed  to  the  pity 
and  the  gratitude  of  Clement,  whom 
he  described  as  the  arbiter  of  his 
credit  and  destiny.  One  thing  only 
could  preserve  him  from  ruin.  Let 
the  pope  sign  the  decretal  bull ;  it 


1  Strype,  i.  App.  77.  When  the  reader 
considers  all  these  negotiations  at  Rome,  he 
will  see  what  credit  is  to  be  given  to  Henry's 
assertion  in  the  instructions  to  his  agent  at 
the  northern  courts,  that  the  pope  declared 
he  could  not  by  law  take  cognizance  of  the 
cause  at  Rome,  but  it  must  be  determined 
in  England;  and  therefore  requested  the 
king  to  take  out  a  commission  for  judges  at 
hone. — Burnet,  iii.  Rec.  66. 

1  The  bishop  of  Bayonne  calls  them  "de' 


terribles  termes."—  Le  Grand,  iii.  164.  See 
Strype,  i.  App.  84.  It  might  be  thought 
that  this  was  a  mere  farce,  had  not  the  car- 
dinal, a  few  days  before  commissioned  Gar- 
diner  to  make  out  a  case,  and  consult  some 
of  the  best  canonists  in  Rome,  whether  he 
could  or  could  not  with  a  safe  conscience 
pronounce  a  divorce  on  that  ground.  —  Ibid. 


Ou  il  s'en  verra  an  desespoir, 
nera  a  entendre  de  s'en  retirer  yolontaire* 
ment.—  Le  Grand,  iii.  165,  103. 


HENRY 


[CHAP. 


would  restore  him  to  his  former  place 
in  the  estimation  of  his  sovereign; 
and  tho  fidelity  with  which  Wolsey 
would  at  the  same  time  conceal  its 
existence  from  the  knowledge  of  all 
other  persons  would  secure  from 
blame  the  reputation  of  the  pontiff.1 
Clement  was  now  daily  harassed  with 
the  arguments  and  entreaties,  the 
threats  and  remonstrances  of  Gar- 
diner and  his  colleagues.  To  pacify 
them,  he  promised  under  his  own 
hand  never  to  revoke  the  cause  nor 
to  reverse  the  judgment  of  the  legates, 
and  at  last  reluctantly  signed  the 
decretal  commission.  The  pretences, 
however,  of  Wolsey,  did  not  deceive 
the  penetration  of  the  papal  minis- 
ters ;  they  were  aware  that,  if  he  had 
once  possession  of  the  bull,  he  would 
not  hesitate  to  publish  it  in  his  own 
defence,  either  with  or  without  the 
permission  of  the  pontiff;  and  to 
defeat  his  purpose  they  intrusted  it 
to  the  care  of  the  legate  Campeggio, 
with  strict  orders  never  to  suffer  it 
out  of  his  own  hands,  but  to  read  it 
to  the  king  and  the  cardinal,  and 
then  to  commit  it  privately  to  the 
flames.2 
Campeggio,  to  whom  at  the  request 


1  "Why  was  be  so  desiroua  of  procuring  an 
instrument  which  he  was  never  to  employ  ? 
The  reason  which  he  gives  could  deceive  no 
one.  Ut  hac  quasi  arrha  et  pignore  summee 
paternseque  8.  D.  N.  erga  regiam  majesta- 
tem  benevolentise  apud  me  deposita,  mea 
apuddictammajestalemaugeaturauctoritas. 
— Burnet,  Eec.  ii.  No.  xiv.  But  there  were 
other  reasons  which  he  assigns  in  his  in- 
structions to  Gardiner ;  that  if  the  pope 
would  once  lay  down  the  law,  his  conscience 
would  be  at  ease,  as  he  would  have  only  to 
decide  on  the  fact ;  and,  the  fact  being  once 
decided,  the  pope  could  not  refuse  to  con- 
firm the  sentence  of  divorce,  under  pretence 
that  Julius  had  possessed  the  power  of 
granting  tho  dispensation. — Strype,  i.  App. 
79.  Whether  the  bull  which  he  at  last  ob- 
tained were  of  the  tenor  which  he  required, 
is  unknown;  but,  if  we  may  believe  the 
king,  it  pronounced  the  marriage  between 
Henry  and  Catherine  unlawful  and  invalid, 
provided  it  could  be  proved  before  the 
legates  that  Arthur  was  the  king's  brother, 
that  Arthur  and  Catherine  had  reached  the 
age  of  puberty  when  they  married.  anH 


of  Wolsey  this  mission  "lad  been  con- 
fided, was  an  eminent  canonist  and 
experienced  statesman.  After  the 
death  of  his  wife  in  1509,  he  had 
taken  holy  orders,  had  been  honoured 
with  the  cardinal's  cap  in  1517,  and 
had  been  repeatedly  employed  by  Leo 
and  his  successors  in  delicate  and 
important  negotiations.3  To  Francis 
his  former  connection  with  the  em- 
peror rendered  him  an  object  of  jea- 
lousy ;  but  Henry,  who  had  named 
him  to  the  bishopric  of  Salisbury, 
and  had  lately  made  him  a  present 
of  a  palace  in  Rome,  refused  to  listen 
to  the  suggestions  of  the  French  mi- 
nister. Campeggio  himself  laboured 
to  decline  the  appointment,  on  account 
of  the  gout,  with  which  he  was 
severely  afflicted;  but  the  English 
agents  were  importunate,  and  to  Cle- 
ment himself  the  infirmity  of  the 
legate  proved  an  additional  recom- 
mendation. If  gratitude  and  affec- 
tion led  the  pontiff  to  favour  the 
king  of  England,  the  experience  of 
what  he  had  lately  suffered  taught 
him  to  fear  the  resentment  of  the 
emperor.  Charles  was  not  wanting 
in  the  defence  of  his  aunt :  his  am- 
bassador Guignonez  systematically 


that  the  marriage,  "  as  far  as  presumptions 
can  prove,"  was  consummated  between 
them.— Burnet,  iii.  Eec.  60.  Tunstall  told 
Catherine  that  "the  effect  of  the  epistle 
decretall  was  that,  yf  mariige  and  carnall 
knowleadge  were  had  betwixt  Prince  Arthur 
and  her,  the  legates  shulde  pronounce  for 
the  divorce."— Stat.  Pap.  i.  421.  Thus  after 
all,  though  it  decided  the  point  of  doctrine, 
it  left  the  question  of  fact  to  the  decision  of 
the  legates. 

9  The  existence  of  this  bull  and  authen- 
ticity of  the  promise  have  been  disputed. 
No  one  can  doubt  of  either  who  has  read 
the  original  correspondence.  The  latter  is 
always  called  "  the  chirograph  of  pollicita- 
tion." — Burnet,  iii.  No.  xvii. ;  also  xxii. 
p.  56.  It  is  in  Herbert,  p.  249,  and  Burnet, 
iii.  Kec.  18. 

3  The  cardinal  brought  with  him  to  Eng- 
land his  second  son  Ridolfo ;  whence  Bur- 
net,  who  waa  ignorant  that  Campeggio  had 
formerly  been  married,  takes  occasion  to 
represent  the  young  man  as  a  bastard,  and 
the  father  as  a  person  of  immoral  character. 
—  Burnet,  i.  p.  69. 


A.D.  1523.] 


HESITATION  OF  THE  POOTIFF. 


249 


opposed  every  overture  which  was 
made  by  Gardiner ;  and  each  prince 
had  significantly  hinted  that  his  sub- 
sequent obedience  to  the  see  of  Eome 
would  depend  on  the  treatment  which 
he  should  receive.  To  add  to  his  per- 
plexity, victory  had  now  deserted  the 
French  for  the  imperial  banner. 
Lautrec  had,  indeed,  driven  the  latter 
under  the  walls  of  Naples,  and  con- 
fidently expected  the  fall  of  that 
capital ;  but  Francis,  occupied  with 
his  mistresses  and  his  pleasures,  neg- 
lected to  supply  him  with  reinforce- 
ments or  money  :  a  contagious  dis- 
ease insinuated  itself  into  the  camp ; 
the  commander-in -chief,  the  English 
commissary,  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  men  perished ;  and  the  survivors 
at  last  surrendered  prisoners  of  war.1 
Italy  lay  prostrate  at  the  feet  of 
Charles.  Clement  saw  that,  if  on  the 
one  hand  he  were,  as  the  friends  of 
Catherine  urged,  to  determine  the 
cause  in  person,  his  judgment,  unless 
he  should  reject  the  opinion  of  his 
best  and  wisest  counsellors,  would 
draw  upon  him  the  mortal  enmity  of 
Henry,  and  of  Henry's  ally,  the  king 
of  France;  and  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  he  suffered  it  to  proceed  to  a 
sentence  of  divorce  by  his  legates  in 
England,  he  must  expose  himself 
without  friend  or  protector  to  the 
resentment  of  the  emperor.  In  these 
circumstances  he  resolved  to  prolong 
the  controversy,  in  the  hope  that 
some  unforeseen  event  might  occur 
to  relieve  him  from  his  embarrass- 
ment ;  and,  for  that  purpose,  the  in- 
firmities of  Campeggio  might,  it  was 
thought,  prove  of  considerable  ser- 
vice. The  legate  was  instructed  to 


proceed  by  slow  journeys ;  to  endea- 
vour to  reconcile  the  parties;  to 
advise  the  queen  to  enter  a  monas- 
tery; to  conduct  the  trial  with  due 
caution,  and  according  to  the  esta- 
blished forms ;  but  at  all  events  to 
abstain  from  pronouncing  judgment 
till  he  had  consulted  the  Apostolic 
See ;  for,  though  his  holiness  was 
willing  to  do  anything  in  his  power  to 
afford  satisfaction  to  Henry,  yet  in  a 
cause  which  had  given  rise  to  so 
many  scandalous  remarks,  and  in 
which  one  imprudent  step  might 
throw  all  Europe  into  a  flame,  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  proceed  with  due 
reflection  and  caution.2 

In  England  the  cardinal  had  hardly 
expedited  his  last  despatch,  when  the 
public  business  was  suspended  by  the 
sudden  appearance  and  rapid  diffusion 
of  the  disease  known  by  the  name  of 
the  sweating  sickness.  The  mortality 
with  which  its  first  visit  was  attended 
in  1485  has  been  already  described ; 3 
but  experience  had  taught  the  me- 
tbod  of  cure;  and  those  who  now 
perished,  owed  their  fate  to  their  own 
ignorance  or  their  imprudence.  The 
patient,  who  felt  himself  affected 
with  sickness  and  headache,  was  im- 
mediately put  to  bed ;  a  profuse  per- 
spiration followed ;  and  at  the  close 
of  twenty-four  hours  the  danger  was 
over.  But  if,  during  that  period,  any 
part  of  the  body  were  exposed  to  the 
cold  air,  the  perspiration  ceased,  de- 
lirium ensued,  and  in  a  few  hours 
life  was  extinguished.  Out  of  forty 
thousand  cases  in  the  city  of  London, 
it  was  calculated  that  only  one  in 
twenty  proved  fatal.4  At  court  the 
disease  made  its  first  appearance 


Sandoval,  ii.  11. 

Lettere  di  Principi,  torn.  ii.  Sanga's 
le  tors  in  the  Pamphleteer,  xliii.  124.  Pal- 
la  .  i.  258.  Sanders,  32. 

See  p.  129  of  this  vol. 

The  bishop  of  Bayonne   describes   the 
malady  with  his  characteristic  gaiety.    Ce 
mal  de  sue"e,  c'est,  Monseigneur,  une  ma-  j 
!adie   qui  est  survenue   icy   depuis   quatre  , 
fours,  la  pms  atae'e  du  ntoud  pour  mourir :  ! 


on  a  ung  peu  de  mal  de  teste  et  de  cueur 
souldain  on  se  mict  a  suer.  II  ne  faulr 
point  de  medecin,  car  qui  se  decouvre  le 
moins  da  monde,  on  qui  se  couvre  ung  peu 
trop,  en  quatre  heures,  aulcunes  foia  en  deux 
ou  troys,  on  est  aepesche"  sans  languir, 
comme  on  faict  de  ces  facheuses  fiebvres 
(p.  138).  From  entries  in  the  privy  purse 
expenses,  edited  by  Sir  Har.  Nicolas,  it 
appears  that  after  thia  time  tho  king,  by 


250 


HENRY  VIII. 


among  the  female  attendants  of  Ann 
Boleyn.    By  the   king's  orders   sh 
was  immediately  conveyed  to  the  sea 
of  her  father  in  Kent ;  but  she  car 
ried  the  infection  with  her,  and  com 
municated   it  to  the  family.     Bot 
Anne  and  Lord  Rochford  were  i 
imminent  danger ;  but  under  the  car 
of  Dr.  Butts,  the   royal    physiciar 
both  recovered.    Henry,  who  saw  th 
contagion  spread  among  the  gentle 
men  of  his  privy  chamber,  frequentl 
changed  his  residence,  locked  himsei 
up  from  all  communication  with  hi 
servants  or  strangers,  and,   instead 
of  attending  to  his  "secret  matter,3 
joined  the  queen  in  her  devotiona 
exercises,    confessing    himself  ever} 
day,  and  receiving   the  communion 
every  Sunday  and  festival.1    At  the 
same  time  his  former  esteem  of  the 
cardinal  seemed  to  revive.    He  sent 
to  Wolsey  regulations   for  his   diet 
during  the  time   of  the  pestilence, 
insisted  on  receiving  every  other  day 
an  account  of  his  health,  and  invited 
him  to  lodge  in  a  house  at  no  great 
distance,  that,  if  either  fell  ill,  they 
might  hear  from  each  other  in  the 
space  of  an  hour,  and  might  have  the 
benefit  of  the  same  medical  attend- 
ance.   The  cardinal,  who,  to  conceal 
the  place  of  his  retreat,  had  eloped 
from  his   own  family,  imitated  the 


[CHAP.  viii. 


conduct  of  the  sovereign,  and  began 
to  "order  himself  anent  God."  He 
made  his  will,  sent  it  to  Henry  for  his 
approbation,  and  assured  him,  as  truly 
as  if  he  were  speaking  his  last  words, 
"  that  never,  for  favour,  mede,  gyfte, 
or  promysse,  had  he  done  or  consented 
to  anything  that  myght  in  the  least 
poynte  redownde  to  the  king's  dis- 
honour or  disprouffit."  Henry  on  hia 
part  also  made  a  will,  and  promised  to 
send,  probably  did  send,  it  to  the  car- 
dinal, "that  he  might  seethe  trust 
and  harty  mynd  that  he  had  unto  him 
above  all  men  lyving." 2 

Whilst  the  pestilence  continued, 
the  absence  of  Anne  Boleyn,  the  har- 
mony in  which  the  king  lived  with 
his  wife,  and  the  religious  impression 
which  the  danger  had  left  on  his 
mind,  excited  a  suspicion  that  he 
would  abandon  his  project  of  a  di- 
vorce; but  the  despatches  of  Gar- 
diner, announcing  the  departure  of 
^ampeggio  with  the  decretal  bull  and 
toe  promise,  kept  alive  his  hopes  of 
uccess;  anti  the  contagion  had  no 
opner  ceased  than  he  recalled  his 
nistress  to  court.  Anne  was  careful 
io  employ  every  art  to  confirm  her 
mpire  over  her  lover,  and  lavished 
protestations  of  gratitude  on  the  car- 
inal  to  animate  his  exertions  in  her 
avour.3  The  French  ambassador  had 


way  of  precaution,  was  in  the  habit  of  ex- 
pelling from  Greenwich  all  infected,  and 
probably  suspected,  families.  He  made 
them  compensation.— See  pp.  79,  104,  125, 

i  All  these  particulars  are  taken  from  the 
letters  of  the  bishop  of  Bayonne,  p.  137, 
149,  152.  »  State  Pap.  289-^313. 

3  Her  letters  to  the  cardinal  at  this  period 
form  a  singular  contrast  with  her  hostility 
to  him  when  he  could  no  longer  serve  her  — 
"All  the  days  of  my  life  I  am  most  bound 
of  all  creatures,  next  the  king's  grace 
to  love  and  serve  your  grace;  of  which 
I  beseech  you  never  to  doubt  that  ever 
I  shall  vary  from  this  thought  as  long  as  any 
breath  is  in  my  body.  And  as  touching 
your  grace's  trouble  with  the  sweat,  I  thank 
our  Lord  that  them  that  I  desired  and 
prayed  for  are  scaped,  and  that  is  the  king 
and  you And  as  for  the  coming  of  the 


egate,  I  desire  that  much,  and  if  it  be  God's 
leasure,  I  pray  him  to  send  this  matter 
nortly  to  a  good  end,  and  then  I  trust  my 
ord,  to  recompense  part  of  your  great 
ains.  In  another :  "  I  do  know  the  great 
ains  and  troubles  that  you  have  taken  for 

me,  both  day  and  night,  is  never  like  to  be 
ecompensed  on  my  part,  but  alonely  in 
vmg  you,  next  to  the  king's  grace,  above 

all  creatures  living."  In  a  third  :  "  I  assure 
ou  that,  after  this  matter  is  brought  to 
ass,  you  shall  find  me,  as  I  am  bound  in 

he  meantime  to  owe  you  my  service ;  and 

jen  look  what  thing  in  the  world  I  can 

aagine  to  do  you  pleasure  in,  you  shall  find 

e  the  gladdest  woman  in  the  world  to  do 

,  and  next  under  the  king's  grace,  of  one 

ing  I  make  you  full  promise  to  be  assured 

have  it,  and  that  is  my  hearty  love,  un- 

ignedly  during  my  life."— See  these  letters 

Burnet,  i.  55;  Fiddes,  204,  205;  and  in 

earne's  Tit.  Liv.  p.  106. 


A.D.  1523.J 


ARRIVAL  OF  CAMPEGGIO. 


251 


foretold  that  the  king's  passion  would 
evaporate  during  her  absence;  he 
now  acknowledged  his  error,  and 
declared  that  nothing  short  of  a 
miracle  could  cure  the  royal  infa- 
tuation.1 

After  a  tedious  journey,  which  had 
been  repeatedly  suspended  by  fits  of 
the  gout,  Campeggio  reached  London, 
but  in  such  a  state  of  suffering  and 
weakness,  that  he  was  carried  in  a 
litter  to  his  lodgings,  where  he  re- 
mained for  several  days  confined  to 
his  bed.  Previously  to  his  arrival  a 
sense  of  decency  had  induced  the  king 
to  remove  his  mistress  a  second  time 
from  court.  He  lived  with  the  queen 
apparently  on  the  same  terms  as  if 
there  had  been  no  controversy  be- 
tween them.  They  continued  to  eat  at 
the  same  table,  and  to  sleep  in  the 
same  bed.  Catherine  carefully  con- 
cealed her  feelings,  and  appeared  in 
public  with  that  air  of  cheerfulness 
which  she  used  to  display  in  the 
days  of  her  greatest  prosperity.2  The 
arrival  of  Campeggio  had  added  to 
the  popularity  of  her  cause;  nor 
could  TTolsey,  though  he  had  taken 
every  precaution  to  prevent  disturb- 
ance, silence  the  common  voice  of  the 
people,  who  publicly  declared  that, 
let  the  king  marry  whom  he  pleased, 
the  husband  of  the  princess  Mary 
should  be  his  successor  on  the 
throne.3 

A  fortnight  elapsed  before  the  legate 
was  sufficiently  recovered  to  leave 
his  house.  By  the  king  he  was  most 
graciously  received ;  but  the  caution 


1  Je  suit  mauvais  devin;  et  pour  vous 
dire  ma  faintaisie,  je  croy  quo  le  roy  en  est 
ei  avant,  qu'aultre  que  Dieu  ne  Ten  scauroit 
oster  (p.  164). 

8  Ne  a  lea  voir  ensemble  se  scauroit  on  de 
riens  appercevpir ;  et  jusqu'a  cette  heure 
n'ont  que  ung  lict,  et  une  table. — I/eVeque 
de  Bayonne,  p.  170.  Oct.  16,  1528.  I  notice 
this  passage,  because  our  modern  historians 
tell  us  that  for  some  years  the  delicacy  of 
Henry's  conscience  had  compelled  him  to 
abstain  from  Catherine's  bed. 


of  the  Italian  proved  a  match  for  all 
the  arts  both  of  Henry  and  Wolsey. 
Though  the  minister  harassed  him 
with  daily  conferences,  and  the  king 
honoured  him  with  repeated  visits; 
though  his  constancy  was  tempted  by 
flattery  and  promises;  though  his 
son  received  the  honour  of  knight- 
hood, and  to  himself  an  offer  was 
made  of  the  rich  bishopric  of  Dur- 
ham, he  kept  his  real  sentiments  an 
impenetrable  secret,  and  never  suf- 
fered himself  to  be  betrayed  into  an 
unguarded  expression.  To  the  rea- 
sons and  the  solicitations  of  the  car- 
dinal he  invariably  returned  the  same 
answer ;  that  it  was  his  wish  and  his 
duty  to  render  the  king  every  service 
consistent  with  the  dictates  of  his 
conscience.  To  give  a  favourable  bias 
to  his  judgment  it  was  thought  ad- 
visable to  lay  before  him  the  opinions 
of  canonists  and  divines ;  and  these, 
as  few  among  the  natives  approved  of 
the  royal  cause,  were  chiefly  sought 
among  foreigners.  For  this  purpose 
the  bishop  of  Bayonne  gave  his  own 
opinion  in  writing;  and  the  most 
urgent  solicitations  were  made  to  the 
French  court  to  procure  others  with 
caution  and  secrecy.4  Campeggio, 
after  he  had  been  introduced  to 
Henry,  waited  on  the  queen,  first  in 
private,  and  then  in  the  company  of 
Wolsey  and  four  other  prelates.  He 
exhorted  her  in  the  name  of  the  pon- 
tiff to  enter  a  convent,  and  then  ex- 
plained to  her  the  objections  against 
the  validity  of  her  marriage.  Cathe- 
rine replied  with  modesty  and  firm- 


3  Disent  que  quoiqu'on  facze,  qui  epou- 
sera  la  princesse,  sera  aprea  roy  d'Angle- 
terre.— Id.  p.  204. 

*  L'e'veque  de  Bayonne,  p.  205.  He  thus 
describes  his  own  opinion.  Je  tiens  qu' en- 
cores que  le  Fape,  et  tous  les  cardinaulx 
eussent,  et  par  le  passe1  et  par  le  present 
approuTe"  le  marriage,  qu'ils  n'ont  peu  ne 
pourroyent  faire,  estant  prouve",  comme 
f'on  dit  qu'il  est,  que  le  feu  roy  (prince)  et 
elle  ont  couche  ensemble;  car  Dieu  en  a 
piecza  luy-mesmes  donnfS  sa  sentence 
(p.  196). 


252 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  viii 


ness  ;  that  it  was  not  for  herself  that 
she  was  concerned,  but  for  one  whose 
interests  were  more  dear  to  her  than 
her  own ;  that  the  presumptive  heir 
to  the  crown  was  her  daughter  Mary, 
whose  right  should  never  be  pre- 
judiced by  the  voluntary  act  of  her 
mother ;  that  she  thought  it  strange 
to  be  thus  interrogated  without  pre- 
vious notice  on  so  delicate  and  im- 
portant a  subject;  that  she  was  a 
weak,  illiterate  woman,  a  stranger 
without  friends  or  advisers;  while 
her  opponents  were  men  learned  in 
the  law,  and  anxious  to  deserve  the 
favour  of  their  sovereign  ;  and  that 
she  therefore  demanded  as  a  right  the 
aid  of  counsel  of  her  own  choice, 
selected  from  the  subjects  of  her 
nephew.1  This  request  was  partially 
granted;  and,  in  addition  to  certain 
English  prelates  and  canonists,  she 
was  permitted  to  choose  two  foreign 
advocates,  provided  they  were  na- 
tives of  Flanders,  and  not  of  Spain.2 

A  few  days  later  the  king  under- 
took to  silence  the  murmurs  of  the 
people,  and  summoned  to  his  residence 
in  the  Bridewell  the  members  of  the 
council,  the  lords  of  his  court,  and 
the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  principal 
citizens.  Before  them  he  enumerated 
the  several  injuries  which  he  had 
received  from  the  emperor,  and  the 
motives  which  induced  him  to  seek 
the  alliance  of  the  king  of  France. 
Then,  taking  to  himself  credit  for 
delicacy  of  conscience,  he  described 
the  scruples  which  had  long  tormented 
his  mind  on  account  of  his  marriage 
with  the  widow  of  his  deceased  bro- 
ther. These  he  had  at  first  endea- 
voured to  suppress;  but  they  were 


revived  and  confirmed  by  the  alarm- 
ing declaration  of  the  bishop  of  Tarbes 
in  the  presence  of  his  council.  To 
tranquillize  his  mind  he  had  recourse 
to  the  only  legitimate  remedy.  He 
consulted  the  pontiff,  who  had  ap- 
pointed two  delegates  to  hear  the 
cause,  and  by  their  judgment  he  was 
determined  to  abide.  He  would  there- 
fore warn  his  subjects  to  be  cautious 
how  they  ventured  to  arraign  his  con- 
duct. The  proudest  among  them 
should  learn  that  he  was  their  sove- 
reign, and  should  answer  with  their 
heads  for  the  presumption  of  their 
tongues.— Yet,  with  all  this  parade 
of  conscious  superiority,  he  did  not 
refuse  the  aid  of  precaution.  A  rigor- 
ous search  was  made  for  arms;  and 
all  strangers,  with  the  exception  of 
ten  merchants  from  each  nation,  were 
ordered  to  leave  the  capital.2 

It  was  now  expected  that  the  legates 
would  proceed  to  the  trial ;  but  delays 
were  sought  and  created,  not  by  the 
pontiff  but  by  the  king  himself.  Cam- 
peggio  had  read  the  decretal  bull  to 
him  and  his  minister,  who  saw  that, 
if  they  could  once  procure  its  pub- 
lication they  were  assured  of  success. 
But  Campeggio  adhered  to  the  letter 
of  his  instructions ;  and  the  English 
agents  were  ordered  to  extort  from 
the  pontiff  a  permission  that  it  mijUit 
be  exhibited  at  least  to  the  members 
of  the  privy  council.  Clement,  how- 
ever, was  inexorable;  he  insisted  on 
the  faithful  performance  of  the  con- 
ditions on  which  it  been  granted; 
and  condemned  his  own  weakness  in 
listening  to  the  prayer  of  a  minister, 
who  for  his  personal  interest  scrupled 
not  to  endanger  the  reputation  of 


1  Her  speech  in  Hall,  who  says  he  copied 
it  from  the  report  made  by  the  secretary  of 
Campeggio  (Hall,  180),  is  in  several  parti- 
culars different  from  that  given  by  the 
bishop  of  Bayonne  (p.  190),  and  by  Caven- 
dish (p.  432).  The  reproaches  with  which, 
according  to  him,  she  loaded  Wolsey,  could 
hardly  merit  the  pmise  given  by  the  legate, 
modeste  earn  locutam  fuisse. — Burnet,  i. 
Records,  ii.  No.  xvii.  p  4A. 


2  Burnet,  ibid.    L'e"veque    de    Bayonne, 
195.    The  counsel  from  Flanders  came  to 
England,  but  left  it  again  before  the  trial 
began.—  Ibid.  260. 

3  Qu'il  n'y  auroit  si  belle  teate,  qu'il  n'en 
feist  voller.—  Id.   218.     Hall  has   given  us 
from  memory  a  different    version  of  thia 
seech  (p.  180).    The  natives  of  Flanders 

e  amounted  to  15,000  men.—  Bayoane, 


spee 
alone 


i.D.  1528.] 


HENRY'S  DISAPPOINTMENT. 


his  benefactor,  and  who  had  hitherto 
neglected  to  perform  any  one  of  the 
promises  to  which  he  had  bound 
himself.1 

Ever  since  the  breaking  up  of  the 
French  army  before  Naples,  the  war 
had  languished  in  Italy  ;  and  the  un- 
disputed  ascendancy  maintained   by 
the  emperor  enabled  that  prince  to 
treat  with  generosity  his  feeble  oppo- 
nent,  the  Roman   pontiff.    To   the 
surprise  of  the  confederates  he  or- 
dered the  cardinal  of  Santa  Croce  to 
restore  Civita  Vecchia,  and  all  the  for- 
tresses belonging   to   the  Holy  See ; 
but  gave  him  at  the  same  time  in- 
structions to  watch  with  care  every 
proceeding  in  the  papal  courts,  and  to 
oppose  every  measure  hostile  to  the 
interests  of  Catherine.  Henry  received 
this  intelligence  of  the  emperor's  mode 
ration  with  alarm ;  he  suspected  the 
existence  of  a  secret  understanding 
between  Charles  and  Clement,  com- 
plained in  bitter  terms  of  the  supine 
ness  and  ingratitude  of  Francis,  and 
despatched  two  new  agents  to  Rome, 
Sir  Francis   Bryan,   master   of  the 
henchmen,  and  Peter  Vannes,   his 
secretary  for  the  Latin  ton  gue.    They 
were  instructed  to  call  on  Francis 
and  represent  to  him  the  insidious 
and  hostile  machinations,  as  Henry 
considered   them,    of    Charles;   and 
then,  proceeding  to  the  pontiff,   to 
withdraw  him,   if  it  were  possible 
from  his   connection  with  the  em- 
peror, to  offer  to  him  a  body-guard  o 
two  thousand  men  in  the  pay  of  th( 
kings  of  England  and  France ;  am 
to  suggest  tHt  he  should  proclaim  o 
his  own  authority  an  armistice  among 
all  Christian  princes,  and   summon 
them  to  meet  in  the  city  of  Avignon 
where  they  might  settle   their   dif 


erences  under  the  mediation  of  their 
Common  father.  But  in  addition  to 
his  visionary  project,  they  had  re- 
;eived  instructions  to  retain  the  ablest 
sanonists  in  Rome  as  counsel  for  the 
king ;  and  to  require  with  due  secrecy, 
heir  opinions  on  the  following  ques- 
ions :  1.  Whether,  if  a  wife  were  to 
make  a  vow  of  chastity  and  enter  a 
convent,  the  pope  could  not,  of  the 
plenitude  of  his  power,  authorize  the 
lusband  to  marry  again ;  2.  Whether, 
if  the  husband  were  to  enter  into  a  re- 
iigious  order  that  he  might  induce  his 
wife  to  do  the  same,  he  might  not  be 
afterwards  released  from  his  vow,  and 
at  liberty  to  marry ;  3.  and  whether, 
for  reasons  of  state,  the  pope  could 
not  license  a  prince  to  have,  like  the 
ancient  patriarchs,  two  wives,  of  whom 
one  only  should  be  publicly  acknow- 
ledged and  enjoy  the  honours  of 
royalty.2 

The  reader  is  aware  that  the  ob- 
jections to  the  original  dispensation 
were  of  two  sorts;  one  denying  the 
power  of  the  pontiff  to  dispense  in 
such  cases,  the  other  denying  the 
truth  of  the  allegations  on  which 
the  bull  of  Julius  had  been  founded. 
Henry  had  wavered  from  one  to  the 
other,  but  of  late  relied  chiefly  on  the 
latter.  To  his  surprise,  Catherine 
exhibited  to  him  the  copy  of  a  IrZve 
of  dispensation,  which  had  been  sent 
to  her  from  Spain.  It  was  granted 
by  the  same  pope,  was  dated  on  the 
same  day,  but  was  worded  in  such 
manner,  as  to  elude  the  objections 
made  to  the  bull.  The  king  and  his 
advisers  were  perplexed.  The  ground 
on  which  they  stood  was  suddenly  cut 
from  under  their  feet.  The  very  com- 
mission of  the  legates  empowered  them 
to  determine  the  validity  of  the  bull 


1  Burnet,  i.  Records,  ii.  No.  xvi.  xvii 
"Which  decretal,"  says  the  king,  "by  hi 
commandment,  after  and  because  he  woulc 
not  have  the  effect  thereof  to  ensue,  was 
after  the  sijrht  thereof,  embesiled  by  th 
foresaid  cardinals." — Burnet.  iii.  Records 
60. 


2  Apud  Collier,  ii.  29,  30.  Could  the  pro- 
poser of  these  questions  have,  as  he  asserted, 
no  other  object  than  to  quiet  his  present 
scruples.  Is  it  not  evident  that  he  sought  to 
surmount,  by  any  means  that  could  be  dis- 
covered, the  cbflt-acle  to  his  marriage  witli 
another  woman  p 


254 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vin. 


only ;  and  it  was  moreover  found  that 
the  pollicitation  itself  was  not  abso- 
lute but  conditional.  Henry  grew 
peevish  and  suspicious  ;  and  repeated 
mortifications  announced  to  the  minis- 
ter the  precarious  tenure  by  which  he 
held  the  royal  favour,1  when  his  am- 
bition and  his  master's  hopes  were 
revived  by  the  unexpected  intelligence 
that  the  pontiff  was  dying,  probably 
was  dead.  The  kings  of  England  and 
France  immediately  united  their  ef- 
forts to  place  him  in  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter;  and  their  respective  ambassa- 
dors were  commanded  to  employ  all 
their  influence  and  authority  to  pro- 
cure in  his  favour  the  requisite  num- 
ber of  votes.2  But  Clement  defeated 
their  expectations.  He  rose,  as  it 
were,  by  miracle,  from  the  grave, 
then  relapsed  into  his  former  weak- 
ness, and  ultimately  recovered.  During 
his  convalescence,  he  received  a  letter 
from  the  legates,  stating  that  they  saw 
no  way  out  of  the  difficulties  which 
surrounded  them,  and  imploring  him 
to  revoke  the  cause  to  Rome,  with  a 
secret  promise  to  Henry  to  decide  in 
his  favour.  This  letter  was  followed 
by  agents  from  the  king,  demanding  a 
more  ample  commission,  and  uncon- 
ditional pollicitation,  and  a  revocation 
of  the  br&ve,  or  a  summons  to  the 
emperor  to  exhibit  the  original  within 
a  limited  time.  They  did  not  deny 
that  some  of  their  demands  were  con- 
trary to  the  practice  of  the  courts, 
and  the  due  course  of  law ;  but  they 
might  be  granted  out  of  the  plenitude 
of  the  papal  power,3  and  Clement  was 
bound  to  do  so  in  compliance  with 
his  promise,  and  in  return  for  benefits 


received.  Nor  did  they  spare  any  pains 
to  obtain  their  object.  They  sometimes 
cajoled,  sometimes  threatened  the 
pontiff;  they  forced  their  way  to  his 
sick-bed,  and  exaggerated  the  danger 
to  his  soul,  should  he  die  without 
doing  justice  to  Henry ;  they  accused 
him  of  ingratitude  to  his  best  friend, 
and  of  indifference  to  the  prosperity 
of  the  church.  To  all  their  remon- 
strances he  returned  the  same  answer, 
that  he  could  not  refuse  to  Catherine 
what  the  ordinary  forms  of  justice 
required  ;  that  he  was  devoted  to  the 
king,  and  eager  to  gratify  him  in  any 
manner  conformably  with  honour  and 
equity ;  but  that  they  ought  not  re- 
quire from  him  what  was  evidently 
unjust,  or  they  would  find  that,  when 
his  conscience  was  concerned,  he  was 
equally  insensible  to  considerations  of 
interest  or  of  danger ;  that  Catherine 
had  already  entered  a  protest  in  his 
court  against  the  persons  of  the 
judges,  and  that  the  best  advice 
which  he  could  give  to  the  king 
was  that  he  should  proceed  without 
loss  of  time  to  the  trial  and  deter- 
mination of  the  cause  within  his  own 
realm. 

In  this  manner  no  fewer  than  seven 
months  had  been  consumed  since  the 
arrival  of  Campeggio.  But  in  pro- 
portion as  the  prospect  of  success 
grew  fainter,  the  passion  of  Henry 
was  seen  to  increase.  Within  two 
months  after  the  removal  of  his  mis- 
tress from  court,  he  dismissed  Cathe- 
rine to  Greenwich,  and  required  Anne 
Boleyn  to  return.  But  she  affected 
to  resent  the  manner  in  which  she 
had  been  treated;  his  letter  and  in- 


1  Of  these  mortifications  it  was  not  the 
least,  that  the  king  maintained  a  private 
correspondence  with  Bryan  at  Rome,  who 
answered  by  letters  addressed  to  Anne 
Boleyn ;  a  plain  proof  to  "Wolsey  that  he  no 
longer  possessed  the  royal  confidence. — 
State  Pap.  i.  330. 

8  Burnet,  Records,  ii.  No.  xx.  Foxe's 
Acts  and  Mon.  ii.  202—205.  Le  Grand,  iii. 
296—305. 


8  "  It  was  on  those  special  terms  de  pleni- 
tudine  potestatis,  and  on  trust  that  the 
pope  would  make  use  of  it,  I  was  sent 
hither,  which  failing,  your  highness,  I  doubt 
not,  right  well  remembreth  how  Master 
Wolman,  Mr.  Bell,  and  I,  shewed  your 
highness  such  things  as  were  required,  were 
not  impetrable." — Qard.  to  Henry.  Burnet, 
iii.  No.  xiv. 


A.D.  1529.] 


THE  LEGATES  HEAR  THE  CAUSE. 


256 


vitation  were  received  with  contempt; 
and  if  she  at  length  yielded,  it  was 
not  to  the  command  of  the  king,  but 
to  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  her 
father.  To  soothe  her  pride,  Henry 
gave  her  a  princely  establishment ; 
allotted  her  apartments  richly  fur- 
nished, and  contiguous  to  his  own; 
and  exacted  of  his  courtiers  that  they 
should  attend  her  daily  levees,  in  the 
same  manner  in  which  they  had  at- 
tended those  of  the  queen.1  It  is  plain 
from  the  king's  letters,  that  though 
she  had  indulged  him  in  liberties 
which  no  modest  woman  would  grant, 
she  had  not  hitherto  gratified  his  pas- 
sion; but  after  her  return  to  court, 
it  was  rumoured  that  she  occupied 
the  place  of  the  queen  in  private  as 
well  as  public,  in  bed  as  well  as  at 
board;  and  it  was  believed  that  the 
hope  or  the  fear  of  her  pregnancy 
would  compel  Henry  to  cut  short  all 
delay,  and  to  proceed  immediately 
with  his  suit.2  At  the  same  time  it 
was  understood  that  the  mother  of 
the  king  of  France  had  agreed  to 
meet  at  Cambray  the  archduchess 
Margaret,  for  the  purpose  of  signing 
a  peace,  the  preliminaries  of  which 
had  already  been  concluded  in  secret 
by  the  courts  of  Paris  and  Madrid. 
The  intelligence  dismayed  and  irri- 
tated Henry.  He  inveighed  against 
the  bad  faith  of  his  "good  brother 


and  perpetual  ally,"  and  apprehended 
from  the  reconciliation  of  the  two 
powers  new  obstacles  to  his  divorce ; 
while  Anne  Boleyn  and  the  lords  of 
the  council  laid  the  whole  blame  on 
the  cardinal,  who,  they  maintained, 
had  deceived  his  sovereign,  and  sacri« 
ficed  the  real  interests  of  England  to 
his  partiality  for  the  French  alliance. 
It  was  resolved  to  proceed  to  trial 
without  delay;  Gardiner  was  hastily 
recalled  from  Rome  to  be  the  leading 
counsel  for  the  king ;  a  license  under 
the  broad  seal  was  issued,  empowering 
the  legates  to  execute  their  commis- 
sion ;  and,  when  Wolsey  solicited  the 
appointment  of  ambassador  at  the 
congress  of  Cambray,  he  was  told  to 
remain  at  home,  and  aid  his  colleague 
in  the  discharge  of  his  judicial  func- 
tions. On  the  part  of  the  English 
cardinal,  there  was  no  want  of  indus- 
try and  expedition;  but  Campeggio 
obstinately  adhered  to  established 
forms ;  and  neither  the  wishes  of 
the  king,  nor  the  entreaties  of  Wol- 
sey, nor  the  exhortations  of  Francis, 
could  accelerate  his  progress.3 

The  court  met  in  the  parliament 
chamber  at  the  Blackfriars,  and  sum- 
moned the  king  and  queen  to  appear 
on  the  eighteenth  of  June.  The  latter 
obeyed,  but  protested  against  the 
judges,  and  appealed  to  the  pope. 
At  the  next  session  Henry  sat  in 


1  Mademoiselle  de  Boulan  a  la  fin  y  est 
venue,  et  1'a  le  roy  loge"e  en  fort  beau  logis, 
qu'il  a  faict  bien  accoustrer  tout  auprds  du 
sien,  et  lay  est  la  cour  faicte  ordinaire- 
ment  tous  lea  jours  plus  grosse  que  de  long 
terns  elle  nefut  faicte  a  laroyne. — L'ejeque 
de  Bayonne,  p.  231,  Dec.  9.  At  Christmas 
Henry  took  her  with  him  to  Greenwich, 
where  both  he  and  the  queen  kept  open 
house  as  usual,  whilst  Anne  had  a  separate 
establishment  of  her  own. — Le  Grand,  260. 
In  1529  and  1530  the  same  holidays  were 
kept  in  like  manner;  but  in  1531  "  all  men 
sayde  that  there  was  no  mirthe  in  that 
Christemas  because  the  queene  and  the 
ladyes  were  absent." — Hall,  794.  In  hig 
privy  purse  expenses  from  Nov.  1529,  to 
Dec.  1532,  are  more  than  forty  entries  re- 
garding "Maistres,"  afterwards  called  "the 
ladye,"  Anne.  He  gives  her  IQOl.  and  UQl. 


at  Christmas,  "for  to  disport  her  with," 
pays  her  bills,  one  of  which  amounts  to  2171., 
and  makes  her  presents  of  jewels,  robes, 
furs,  silks,  cloth  of  gold,  a  night-gown,  and 
"  lynnen  for  sherts."  But  during  the  same 
time  there  are  only  two  entries  of  sums  of 
201.  each,  given  to  ma  daughter  Mary,  none 
of  any  thing  given  to  Catherine. 

2  Je  me  doubte  forte  que  depuis  quelque 
temps  ce  roi  ait  approehe"  bien   pro's   de 
Mademoiselle    Anne;     pour    ce    ne    yous 
esbahissez  pas,  si  Ton  vouldroit  expedition ; 
car,  si  le  ventre  croist,  tout  sera  gaste". — Id. 
p.  325.  June  15. 

3  See  the  letters  of  the  bishop  of  Bayonne 
from  May  20  to  June  31,  in  Le  Grand,  iii« 
313—356,    372.     Wolsey,    in   his    distress, 
solicited  the  king  of  France  to  write  to 
Campeggio,  and  urge  the  expedition  of  the 


B56 


HEN  BY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  VIII. 


state  on  the  right  of  the  cardinals, 
and  answered  in  due  form  to  his 
name.  Catherine  was  on  their  left; 
and,  as  soon  as  she  was  called,  rising 
from  her  chair,  renewed  her  protest 
on  three  grounds :  because  she  was  a 
stranger;  because  the  judges  held 
benefices  in  the  realm,  the  gift  of 
her  adversary;  and  because  she  had 
good  reason  to  believe  that  justice 
could  not  be  obtained  in  a  court 
constituted  like  the  present.  On  the 
refusal  of  the  cardinals  to  admit  her 
appeal,  she  rose  a  second  time,  crossed 
before  them,  and,  accompanied  by  her 
maids,  threw  herself  at  the  king's  feet. 
"  Sir,"  said  she,  "I  beseech  you  to  pity 
me,  a  woman  and  a  stranger,  without 
an  assured  friend,  and  without  an 
indifferent  counsellor.  I  take  God 
to  witness,  that  I  have  always  been 
to  you  a  true  and  loyal  wife  ;  that  I 
have  made  it  my  constant  duty  to 
seek  your  pleasure ;  that  I  have  loved 
all  whom  you  loved,  whether  I  had 
reason  or  not,  whether  they  were 
friends  to  me  or  foes.  I  have  been 
your  wife  for  years;  I  have  brought 
you  many  children.  God  knows  that 
when  I  came  to  your  bed,  I  was  a 
virgin,  and  1  put  it  to  your  own  con- 
science to  say,  whether  it  was  not  so. 
If  there  be  any  offence  which  can  be 
alleged  against  me,  I  consent  to  depart 
with  infamy ;  if  not,  then  I  pray  you 
do  me  justice."  She  immediately  rose, 
made  a  low  obeisance,  and  retired. 
An  officer  followed  to  recall  her. 
She  whispered  to  an  attendant,  and 
then  walked  away,  saying,  "  I  never 
before  disputed  the  will  of  my  hus- 
band, and  shall  take  the  first  oppor- 


tunity to  ask  pardon  for  this  dis- 
obedience."1 Henry  observing  the 
impression  which  her  address  had 
made  on  the  audience,  replied  that 
she  had  always  been  a  dutiful  wife; 
that  his  present  suit  did  not  proceed 
from  any  dislike  of  her,  but  from  the 
tenderness  of  his  own  conscience;  that 
his  scruples  had  not  been  suggested, 
but  on  the  contrary,  discouraged  by 
the  cardinal  of  York ;  that  they  were 
confirmed  by  the  bishop  of  Tarbes ; 
that  he  had  consulted  his  confessor, 
and  several  other  bishops,  who  ad- 
vised him  to  apply  to  the  pontiff;  and 
that  in  consequence  the  present  court 
had  been  appointed,  in  the  decision  of 
which,  be  it  what  it  might,  he  should 
cheerfully  acquiesce.2 

Notwithstanding  the  queen's  appeal, 
the  cause  proceeded,  and  on  her  re- 
fusal to  appear  in  person  or  by  her 
attorney,  she  was  pronounced  con- 
tumacious. Several  sittings  were  held, 
but  the  evidence  and  the  arguments 
were  all  on  the  same  side.  The  king's 
counsel  laboured  to  prove  three  alle- 
gations :  1.  That  the  marriage  between 
Arthur  and  Catherine  had  been  con- 
summated ;  whence  they  inferred  that 
her  subsequent  marriage  with  Henry 
was  contrary  to  the  divine  law;  2.  That 
supposing  the  case  admitted  of  dis- 
pensation, yet  the  bull  of  Julius  II. 
had  been  obtained  under  false  pre- 
tences ;  and  3.  That  the  brtve  of  dis- 
pensation, produced  by  the  queen, 
which  remedied  the  defects  of  the 
bull,  was  an  evident  forgery.  As 
Catherine  declined  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  court,  no  answer  was  returned ; 
but,  if  the  reader  impartially  weigh 


1  Cavend.  423,  424.     Sanders,  39,  40. 

2  Cavend.  425—428.    These  speeches  are 
treated  by  Burnet  as  fictions.    He  supposes 
that  the  queen  did  not  attend  on  the  21st, 
because,  according  to  the  register  of  the 
trial,  the  legates  on  that  day  ordered  her  to 
be  served  with  a  peremptory  citation  to 
appear ;    and  adds,  that  Henry  never  ap- 
peared in  court  at  all. — Burnet,  iii.  46.     He 
nad  however  forgotten  a  letter  published  by 
Ldaiaclf  in  his  first  volume,  from  the  king  to 


his  agents,  in  which  Henry  says,  "  On  that 
day  we  and  the  queen  appeared  in  person  " 
— and  adds,  "after  her  departure  she  was 
twice  preconisate,  and  called  eftsoons  to 
return,  and  on  her  refusal,  a  citation  was 
decerned  for  her  appearance  on  Friday 
next."— Burnet,  i.  Records,  78.  Hence  it 
appears  that  the  narrative  of  Cavendish  is 
correct ;  and  that  the  citation  was  ordered 
not  in  consequence  of  her  non-appearance 
at  all,  but  of  her  departure  after  appearing. 


A.D.  1529.1 


THE  COURT  ADJOURNED. 


257 


the  proceedings,  which  are  still  upon 
record,  he  will  admit,  that  on  the  two 
first  points  the  royal  advocates  com- 
pletely failed;  and  that  the  third, 
though  appearances  were  in  their 
favour,  was  far  from  being  proved.1 
Wolsey  had  his  own  reasons  to  urge 
his  colleague  to  a  speedy  decision  ; 
but  Campeggio,  unwilling  to  pro- 
nounce against  his  conscience,  and 
afraid  to  irritate  the  king,  solicited 
the  pope  by  letter,  to  call  the  cause 
before  himself.  To  add  to  their  com- 
mon perplexity,  despatches  had  ar- 
rived from  the  agents  at  Home,  stating 
that  the  queen's  appeal,  Avith  an  affi- 
davit of  the  reasons  on  which  it  was 
grounded,  had  been  received;  that  the 
ambassadors  of  Charles  and  his  brother 
Ferdinand  daily  importuned  the  pon- 
tiff in  favour  of  Catherine ;  that  the 
destruction  of  the  last  remnant  of 
the  French  army  under  St.  Pol  had 
led  to  an  alliance  between  the  pope 
and  the  emperor,  which  rendered  the 
former  less  apprehensive  of  the  royal 
displeasure;  that  to  prevent  an  in- 
hibition, they  had  been  compelled  to 
deny  that  proceedings  had  commenced 
in  England,  an  assertion  which  every 
one  knew  to  be  false;  and  that  Cle- 
ment, unable  to  refuse  to  an  emperor 
what  he  could  not  in  justice  refuse  to 
a  private  individual,  would  in  a  few 
days  revoke  the  commission,  and  re- 
serve the  cognizance  of  the  cause  to 
himself.2 


The  legates  had  been  careful  to  pro- 
long the  trial,  by  repeated  adjourn- 
ments, till  they  reached  that  term, 
when  the  summer  vacation  com- 
menced, according  to  the  practice  of 
the  Rota.  On  the  twenty-third  of 
July  they  held  the  last  session;  the 
king  attended  in  a  neighbouring 
room,  from  which  he  could  see  and 
hear  the  proceedings ;  and  his  counsel 
in  lofty  terms  called  for  the  judgment 
of  the  court.  But  Campeggio  replied 
that  judgment  must  be  deferred  till 
the  whole  of  the  proceedings  had  been 
laid  before  the  pontiff;  that  he  had 
come  there  to  do  justice,  and  no 
consideration  should  divert  him  from, 
his  duty.  He  was  too  old,  and  weak, 
and  sickly  to  seek  the  favour,  or  fear 
the  resentment  of  any  man.  The 
defendant  had  challenged  him  ana 
his  colleague  as  judges,  because  they 
were  the  subjects  of  her  opponent. 
To  avoid  error,  they  had  therefore 
determined  to  consult  the  Apostolic 
See,  and  for  that  purpose  did  then 
adjourn  the  court  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  next  term,  in  the  begin- 
ning  of  October.  At  these  words, 
the  duke  of  Suffolk,  as  had  been 
preconcerted,  striking  the  table,  ex- 
claimed with  vehemence,  that  the  old 
saw  was  now  verified :  "  Never  did 
cardinal  bring  good  to  England!" 
Though  Wolsey  was  aware  of  the 
danger,  his  spirit  could  not  brook. 
this  insult.  Rising  with  apparent 


1  According  to  Catherine's  almoner,  she 
stated  her  case  to  him  thus  :  "  Fyrst  that  it 
was  in  ieies  of  God  most  plain e  and  evydent 
that  she  was  never  known  of  prince  Arthure ; 
secondly,  that  neyther  of  thp  judges  were 
competent,  being  both  the  king's  subjects ; 
thirdly,  that  she  no  had  ne  myght  have 
within  this  realme  anye  indifferent  coun- 
sayle;  finally  that  she  had  in  Spaine  two 
biilles,  the  one  beiug  of  latter  dayte  than 
the  other,  but  bothe  of  suche  efficacye  and 
strengthe  as  shulde  sone  remove  all  objec- 
tions and  cavy  llations."  Singer,  511.  See 
Appendix,  K. 

•'•  During  the  trial  (July  1),  Henry  pro- 
cured letters  patent  from  Archbishop  War- 
ham,  and  the  bishops  of  London,  Rochester, 


Carlisle,  Ely,  Exeter,  St.  Asaph,  Lincoln, 
and  Bath  and  Wells,  stating  that  the  king 
having  scruples  concerning  his  marriage, 
had  consulted  them,  the  cardinal  of  York, 
and  other  divines,  and  having  sent  to  them 
a  book  written  by  himself  on  the  subject, 
had  requested  their  counsel  to  remove  hia 
scruples,  and  establish  the  tranquillity  of 
his  mind,  the  health  of  hia  body,  and  the 
right  of  succession ;  wherefore  they  had 
come  to  the  conclusion,  that  be  was  not 
uneasy  without  good  and  weighty  reason, 
and  that  he  ought  in  the  first  place  to  con- 
sult the  judgment  of  the  pope.  1  July,  1529. 
—Transcripts  for  N.  Rym.  166.  Assuredly 
he  must  have  been  disappointed  by  this  lam* 
and  impotent  conclusion. 


HENRY 


LCHAP.  vin. 


calmness,  he  said,  "  Sir,  of  all  men 
living,  you  have  least  reason  to  dis- 
praise cardinals ;  for  if  I,  a  poor  car- 
dinal, had  not  been,  you  would  not 
at  this  present  have  had  a  head  upon 
your  shoulders  wherewith  to  make 
Buch  a  brag  in  disrepute  of  us,  who 
have  meant  you  no  harm,  and  have 
given  you  no  cause  of  offence.  If 
you,  my  lord,  were  the  king's  ambas- 
sador in  foreign  parts,  would  you 
venture  to  decide  on  important  mat- 
ters without  first  consulting  your 
sovereign  ?  We  are  also  commis- 
sioners, and  cannot  proceed  to  judg- 
ment without  the  knowledge  of  him 
from  whom  our  authority  proceeds. 
Therefore  do  we  neither  more  nor 
less  than  our  commission  alloweth ; 
and  if  any  man  will  be  offended  with 
us,  he  is  an  unwise  man.  Pacify 
yourself  then,  my  lord,  and  speak 
not  reproachfully  of  your  best  friend. 
You  know  what  friendship  I  have 
shown  you ;  but  this  is  the  first  time 
I  ever  revealed  it  either  to  my  own 
praise  or  your  dishonour."  The 
court  was  now  dissolved,  and  in  less 
than  a  fortnight  it  was  known  that 
Clement  had  revoked  the  commis- 
sion of  the  legates  on  the  fifteenth 
of  the  same  month.1 

Henry  seemed  to  bear  the  disap- 
pointment with  a  composure  of  mind 
which  was  unusual  to  him.  But  he 
had  been  prepared  for  the  event  by 
the  conduct  of  the  legates,  and  the 
despatches  of  his  envoys;  and  the 
intelligence  of  the  revocation  was 
accompanied  with  a  soothing  and 
exculpatory  letter  from  the  pontiff. 
By  the  advice  of  Wolsey  he  resolved 
to  conceal  his  real  feelings,  to  pro- 
cure the  opinions  of  learned  men  in 
his  favour,  to  effect  the  divorce  by 


ecclesiastical  authority  within  the 
realm,  and  then  to  confirm  it  by  act 
of  parliament.  The  bishop  of  Bay- 
onne,  who  had  unequivocally  pro- 
nounced his  opinion  in  its  favour, 
was  desired  both  by  the  king  and  the 
cardinal  to  return  to  France  under 
the  pretence  of  visiting  his  father, 
and  solicit  the  approbation  of  the 
French  universities.* 

But  Wolsey's  good  fortune  had  now 
abandoned  him.  At  this  moment, 
while  Henry  was  still  smarting  under 
his  recent  disappointment,  arrived 
from  Rome  an  instrument  forbidding 
him  to  pursue  his  cause  before  the 
legates,  and  citing  him  to  appear  by 
attorney  in  the  papal  court  under  a 
penalty  of  10,000  ducats.  The  whole  pro- 
cess was  one  of  mere  form,  but  it  revived 
the  irritation  of  the  king ;  he  deemed 
it  a  personal  insult,  and  insisted  that 
Wolsey  should  devise  some  expedient 
to  prevent  it  from  being  served  on 
him,  and  from  being  made  known 
to  his  subjects.  This,  after  a  tedious 
negotiation,  was  effected  with  the  con- 
sent of  the  queen  and  her  counsel.* 
But  it  was  in  vain  that  the  cardinal 
laboured  to  recover  the  royal  favour. 
The  proofs  of  his  disgrace  became 
daily  more  manifest.  He  was  suf- 
fered to  remain  the  whole  month  of 
August  at  the  Moore  without  an 
invitation  to  court ;  on  matters  of 
state  his  opinion  was  seldom  asked, 
and  then  only  by  special  messengers ; 
even  letters  addressed  to  him  were 
intercepted,  opened,  and  perused  by 
Henry.  Still,  amidst  the  misgivings 
of  his  own  breast  and  the  sinister 
predictions  of  his  friends,  he  cherished 
the  hope  that  some  lucky  chance 
might  replace  him  on  his  former  pre- 
eminence, and  imprudently  trusted  to 


*  Cavendish,  434.  Herbert,  278.  The 
altercation  between  the  duke  and  the  car- 
dinal has  been  rejected  by  some  writers, 
because  the  presence  of  Suffolk  is  not  men- 
tioned in  the  register.  But  he  may  be* 
included  among  "  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the 


bishop  of  Ely,  and  others ;"  and  it  is  impro- 
bable that  a  writer,  who  was  present,  should 
have  invented  or  confirmed  the  account,  if 
it  had  been  false. 

2  Lettres  de  I'e'vfique  de  Bayonne,  339, 
342,  355.  3  stat.  Pap.  336,  343,  6,  7. 


A.D.  1529.  J       WOLSEY  LOSES  THE  KING'S  FAVOUR. 


259 


the  hollow  professions  of  men,  who, 
though  they  had  served  him  faith- 
fully in  prosperity,  were  ready  to 
betray  his  confidence  in  his  declining 
fortune.1  But  most  he  had  reason  to 
fear  the  arts  of  the  woman  who,  the 
last  year,  so  solemnly  assured  him 
that  her  gratitude  should  be  com- 
mensurate with  her  life.  It  was  not 
long  since  Anne  had  measured  her 
influence  with  his,  and  had  proved 
victorious.  For  some  offence  Wolsey 
had  driven  Sir  Thomas  Cheney  from 
court.  Cheney  appealed  to  the  king's 
mistress ;  and  Henry  reprimanded 
the  cardinal  and  recalled  the  exile.8 
Now  she  openly  avowed  her  hostility, 
and  eagerly  seconded  the  dukes  of 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  and  her  father, 
the  viscount  Eochford,3  in  their 
united  attempts  to  precipitate  the 
downfall  of  the  minister.  They  in- 
sinuated that  he  had  never  been  in 
earnest  in  the  prosecution  of  the 
divorce,  and  had  uniformly  sacrificed 
the  interests  of  his  sovereign  to  those 
of  the  king  of  France.  In  proof  of  the 
first  charge,  they  instanced  his  request 
to  attend  the  congress  at  Cambray, 
instead  of  opening  the  commission ; 
in  proof  of  the  second  they  alleged 
that  during  the  war  with  France  he 
had  constantly  corresponded  with  the 
lady  regent,  and  accepted  presents 
from  her,  and  at  her  request  had 
compelled  the  duke  of  Suffolk  to 
retreat  from  Mondidier,  when  he 
might  have  advanced  and  taken  the 


city  of  Paris.4  The  willingness  with 
which  the  king  listened  to  these 
suggestions  assured  them  of  success ; 
and  over  their  cups  they  not  only 
ventured  to  predict  the  ruin  of 
"Wolsey,  but  threatened  to  humble 
the  pride  of  the  churchmen,  and  to 
ease  them  of  that  load  of  wealth 
which  encumbered  the  successors  of 
the  apostles.5  Aware  of  their  hosti- 
lity, the  cardinal  rested  all  his  hopes 
on  the  result  of  a  personal  interview; 
and,  after  many  disappointments, 
was  at  last  gratified.6  He  obtained 
permission  to  accompany  Campeggio 
when  that  prelate  took  leave  of  the 
king  at  Grafton.  The  Italian  was 
received  by  the  officers  of  the  court 
with  the  attention  due  to  his  rank; 
the  fallen  minister  found  to  his  sur- 
prise, that,  though  an  apartment  had 
been  ordered  for  his  companion,  none 
was  provided  for  himself.  He  was 
introduced  into  the  "presence." 
Every  tongue  foretold  his  disgrace— 
every  eye  watched  his  reception.  To 
the  general  surprise,  when  he  knelt, 
the  king  graciously  raised  him  up 
with  both  hands,  led  him  aside  in 
a  friendly  manner,  and  conversed 
with  him  familiarly  for  a  considerable 
time.  The  cardinal  dined  with  the 
ministers ;  Henry  with  the  lady  Anne 
in  her  chamber ;  but  after  dinner  he 
sent  for  Wolsey  again,  conducted  him 
by  the  hand  into  his  closet,  and  kept 
him  in  private  conference  till  it  was 
dark.  At  his  departure— for  he  slept 


1  Je  voy  qu'il  a  fiance  en  auleuns  faits  de 
sa  main-  lesquels  je  suis  seur  luy  ont  tourn6 
la  robt.    Le  pis  est,  qu'il  ne  1'entend  pas. — 
L'eveque  de  Bayonne,  356. 

2  L'e'veque  de  Bayonne,  291. 

3  Before  the    end  of   the  year  he  was 
created  earl  of  Ormond  in  Ireland,  and  his 
competitor,  Sir  Piers  Butler,  earl  of  Ossory. 

*  Ibid.  372,  374.  The  charge  of  the  pre- 
sents  seems  to  have  been  founded.  Quant 
ausdits  presens  le  cardinal  espere  que  ma- 
dame  ne  luy  nuira  pas,  ou  il  en  sera  parM ; 
de  toutes  aultrea  choses  il  se  recommande 
en  sa  bonne  grace. — Ibid. 

5  La  fantaisie  de  ces  seigneurs  est  que, 


luy  mort  ou  mine",  ils  defcrrent  incontinent 
icy  1'estat   de  1'eglise,   et    prendront  tous 

leurs  biens Ils  le  orient  en  pleine  table. 

Je    croy   qu'ils  feront  de  beaux  miracles 
(p.  374). 

6  One  of  his  artifices  was  this.  He  pre- 
tended that  he  had  a  secret  of  immense 
importance  to  communicate,  but  of  such  a 
nature  that  he  dared  not  trust  it  to  any 
messenger.  Henry  replied  that  he  might 
come  to  him  at  Woodstock,  but  insisted  on 
knowing  previously  what  was  the  purport  of 
the  communication. — State  Pap.  i.  344» 
From  Cavendish  and  Alward  (Ellis,  i.  307)  1 
infer  that  he  did  not  avail,  or  was  not  suf- 
fered to  avail  himself  of  this  permission. 


200 


HEMiY  VIII. 


!  CHAP.  V11L 


at  a  gentleman's  house  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood—he received  a  command 
to  return  on  the  following  morning. 
Wolsey's  enemies  now  trembled  for 
their  own  safety ;  they  were  relieved 
from  their  apprehensions  by  the 
ascendancy  of  Anne  Boleyn,  who 
extorted  from  her  lover  a  promise 
that  he  would  never  more  speak  to 
the  cardinal.1  When  Wolsey  re- 
turned in  the  morning,  the  king 
was  already  on  horseback,  and  having 
sent  a  message  to  him  to  attend  the 
council,  and  then  depart  with  Cam- 
peggio,  rode  out  in  the  company  of 
the  lady  Anne,  and  dined  at  Hart- 
well  Park.  After  that  day  he  and 
Wolsey  never  met  each  other." 

When  the  Michaelmas  term  came, 
the  two  cardinals  separated.  The 
Italian  set  out  on  his  return  to 
Rome,  but  met  with  an  unexpected 
affront  at  Dover.  The  officers  of  the 
customs  burst  into  his  apartment, 
rifled  his  trunks,  and  charged  him 
with  being  in  possession  of  Wolsey's 
treasure.  The  charge  was  false ;  and 
it  was  thought  that  the  real  object  of 


1  We  are  indebted  for  this  interesting 
narative  to  Cavendish,  wbo  was  present 
(438—444).  The  promise  is  added  from  the 
bishop  of  Bayonne's  letter.  Mademoiselle 
de  Boulen  a  faict  promettre  a  son  amy,  que 
il  ne  1'escoutera  jamais  parler  (p.  375). 

s  Cavendish,  438—444.  Le  Grand,  375. 
According  to  Alward,  the  king  did  not  ride 
till  after  dinner,  when  he  dismissed  Wolsey 
very  graciously.  I  have  preferred  the  nar- 
rative of  Cavendish.  Both  were  present ; 
but  though  Alward's  account  was  written 
immediately,  there  is  this  to  detract  from 
its  credit,  "that  it  was  written  to  enable 
Cromwell  to  contradict  the  report  that 
Wolsey  had  left  the  king  in  disgrace.— Ibid. 
310. 

»  Le  Grand,  iii.  369.  These  papers  may 
have  been  the  decretal  bull,  or  letters  from 
Wolsey  to  the  pope,  or  Henry's  letters  to 
Anne  Boleyn,  which  had  come  by  some 
unknown  means  into  the  hands  of  Cam- 
peggio.  But  he  had  already  sent  the  latter 
to  Rome,  where  they  may  still  be  seen  in 
the  Vatican  library,  seventeen  in  number, 
but  without  dates.  From  internal  evidence 
however,  we  may  conclude  that  the  six- 
teenth was  written  about  the  end  of  1527  or 
the  beginning  of  152S.  Nos.  1,  4,  5,  8,  pre 
ceded  it.  Nos.  3,  7,  12,  13,  were  written 


the  search  was  to  seize  certain  papers 
hich  it  might  be  the  king's  interest 
to  possess.3  Nothing,  however,  was 
bund ;  and  Campeggio,  after  a  strong 
remonstrance  on  his  part,  and  an 
unmeaning  apology  on  that  of  the 
officers,  was  suffered  to  set  sail.  A 
worse  fate  awaited  his  English  col- 
eague.  On  the  very  day  on  which 
Wolsey  opened  his  court  as  chan- 
cellor, Hales,  the  attorney-general, 
iled  two  bills  against  him  in  the 
King's  Bench,  charging  him  with 
having,  as  legate,  transgressed  the 
statute  of  the  16th  of  Richard  II., 
commonly  called  the  Statute  of 
Premunire.  Nothing  could  be 
more  iniquitous  than  this  prose- 
cution. It  was  doubtful  whether 
the  legatine  court  could  be  brought 
within  the  operation  of  the  statute ; 
it  was  certain  that  the  cardinal  had 
previously  obtained  the  royal  license, 
and  was  therefore  authorized  to  hold 
it  both  by  immemorial  usage  and  the 
sanction  of  parliament.4  This  stroke, 
though  it  was  not  unexpected,  plunged 
him  into  despair.5  He  knew  the  stern 


during  the  absence  of  Anne  from  court,  that 
is,  from  June  1  to  the  middle  of  August, 
1528.  Nos.  6,  14,  17,  during  her  second 
absence  in  the  same  year  in  September, 
October,  and  November.  Nos.  2,  9,  11, 15, 
are  of  very  uncertain  date ;  probably  they 
belong  to  the  more  early  period. 

4  See  this  History,  vol.  iii.  172. 

5  The  reader  may  form  an  accurate  notion 
of  his  present  situation   by  the  following 
extract  from  a  letter  written  by  an  eye- 
witness, the  bishop  of  Bayonne.    "  I  have 
been  to  visit  the  cardinal  in  his  distress,  and 
have  witnessed  the  most  striking  change  of 
fortune.    He  explained  to  me  his  hard  case 
in  the  worst  rhetoric  that  was  ever  heard. 
Both  his  tongue  and  his  heart  failed  him. 
He  recommended  himself  to  the  pity  of  thi» 
king  and  madame  [Francis  and  his  mother] 
with  sighs  and  tears;  and  at  last  left  me 
without    having    said    any   thing    near    so 
moving  as    his    appearance.      His  face  is 
dwindled  to  one-half  its  natural  size.    In 
truth  his  misery  is  such  that  his  enemies, 
Englishmen  as  they  are,  cannot  help  pitying 
him.      Still  they  will  carry  things  to  ex- 
tremities.   As  for  his  legation,  the  seals, 
his  authority,  &c.,  he  thinks  no   more  ot 
them.    He  is  willing  to  give  up  every  thing, 
even  the  shirt  from  his  back,  and  to  live  in 


A.P.  1529.J 


SUBMISSION  OF  WOLSEY. 


201 


and  irritable  temper  of  his  prosecutor ; 
to  have  maintained  his  innocence 
would  have  been  to  exclude  the  hope 
of  forgiveness ;  and  there  was  more- 
over a  "night-crow,"  to  use  his  own  ex- 
pression, that  possessed  the  royal  ear, 
and  misrepresented  the  most  harm- 
less of  his  actions.  On  these  accounts 
he  submitted  without  a  murmur  to 
every  demand ;  resigned  the  great 
seal  into  the  hands  of  the  dukes  of 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk  ;'  transferred  to 
the  king  the  whole  of  his  personal 
estate,  valued  at  500,000  crowns,  say- 
ing that  as  he  owed  all  to  the  bounty 
of  his  sovereign,  so  he  restored  all 
with  pleasure  to  his  benefactor  ;2  and 
when  he  found  that  Henry  insisted 
on  an  entire  and  unconditional  sub- 
mission, granted  to  him,  by  indenture, 
the  yearly  profits  of  his  benefices,3 
ordered  his  attorney  to  plead  guilty 
to  the  indictment,  and  threw  himself 
without  reserve  on  the  royal  mercy.4 
It  was  now  intimated  to  him  that  the 
king  meant  to  reside  at  York-place 
during  the  parliament,  and  that  he 
might  retire  to  Esher,  a  seat  belong- 
ing to  his  bishopric  of  Winchester. 
When  he  entered  his  barge,  he  was 
surprised  to  behold  the  river  covered 
with  boats  and  lined  with  spectators. 
Both  the  courtiers  and  the  r'tizens 
had  crowded  together  to  behold  his 
arrest  and  commitment  to  the  Tower; 
but  he  disappointed  their  curiosity, 
landed  at  Putney,  and,  as  he  ascended 
the  hill,  was  met  by  Norris,  a  groom 
of  the  chamber,  who  brought  him 
a  secret  but  gracious  message  from 
Henry,  not  to  despair,  but  to  remem- 
ber, that  the  king  could  at  any  time 
give  him  more  than  he  had  now  taken 
away.  The  cardinal  instantly  alighted 


from  his  mule,  sunk  on  his  knees,  and 
uttered  a  fervent  prayer  for  the  pro- 
sperity of  his  sovereign.1* 

This  incident,  which  proved  to 
Wolsey  that  his  case  was  not  yet 
lopeless,  alarmed  his  opponents. 
They  had  gone  too  far  to  desist 
with  safety ;  they  must  either  com. 
plete  his  ruin,  or  submit  to  be  after  - 
rds  the  victims  of  his  resentment. 
Hence  they  laboured  to  keep  alivo 
,he  royal  displeasure  against  him. 
They  represented  him  as  an  ungrate- 
favourite,  who  had  sought  nothing 
but  his  own  interest  and  gratification; 
they  attempted  to  show,  from  one  of 
bis  letters  which  had  fallen  into  their 
bands,  that,  whilst  he  pretended  to 
promote,  he  had  clandestinely  op- 
posed, the  project  of  divorce ;  and 
they  charged  him  with  having  main- 
tained a  secret  correspondence  with- 
Madame  Louise,  with  having  received 
from  her  bribes  in  the  shape  of 
presents,  and  with  having,  in  order 
to  retain  her  favour,  cramped  and 
marred  all  the  designs  of  the  duke  of 
Suffolk  in  the  campaign  of  1523.a  Still 
the  king's  partiality  for  his  former 
favourite  seemed  to  be  proof  against 
all  the  representations  of  the  council 
and  the  arts  of  his  mistress.  He  con- 
tinued to  send  to  the  cardinal  from 
time  to  time  consoling  messages  and 
tokens  of  affection,  though  it  was 
generally  by  stealth,  and  sometimes 
during  the  night.  When  the  court 
pronounced  judgment  against  him, 
he  took  him  under  the  royal  protec- 
tion ;  and  when  articles  of  impeach- 
ment, enumerating  forty-four  real  or 
imaginary  offences,  and  signed  by 
fourteen  peers  and  the  law-officers 
of  the  crown,  had  been  introduced 


a  hermitage,  if  the  ting  would  but  desist 
from  his  displeasure." — Apud  Lo  Grand, 
iu.  3ri. 

1  Uenry  sent  a  verbal  order ;  he  refused 
t.»  obey  without  a  written  order.  This  was 
necessary  for  his  own  security. 

»  Le  Grand,  iii    377,  9.    Byra.  iv.  37 
8t*t«  Papers,  i.  355. 


3  Henry  accepted  the  grant,  but  with  a 
proviso  that  such  acceptance  should  not 
prevent  him  from  preceding  at  law  against 
the  cardinal. — Transcripts  for  New  Rymer, 
167. 

«  Cavendish,  250.          5  Cavendish,  450, 
«  Herbert,  123.    Le  Grand,  iu.  374. 


262 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  TIIL 


into  the  bouse  of  lords,  and  passed 
from  it  to  the  house  of  commons,1  he 
procured  them  to  be  thrown  out  by 
the  agency  of  Cromwell,  who  from 
the  service  of  the  cardinal  had  risen 
to  that  of  the  king.2  The  French 
ambassador,  unable  to  foresee  what 
might  be  the  issue  of  the  struggle, 
advised  his  court  to  render  to  the 
fallen  minister  such  good  offices  as, 
without  giving  cause  of  offence  to 
the  existing  administration,  might  be 
gratefully  remembered  by  Wolsey,  if 
he  should  finally  triumph  over  his 
enemies.3 

Esher,  though  sufficiently  stored 
with  provisions,  was  a  large,  un- 
furnished house,  where  the  cardinal 
and  his  numerous  family  found  them- 
selves destitute  of  most  of  the  con- 
veniences and  comforts  of  life.  There 
for  three  months  he  had  leisure  to 
meditate  on  the  sad  prospect  before 
him.  The  comparison  of  his  present 
with  his  past  condition,  the  unmiti- 
gated hostility  of  his  enemies,4  and 
the  delay  of  fulfilling  any  one  of  the 
conditions  in  his  favour  according  to 
his  compact  wit  h  the  two  dukes,6  filled 
him  with  the  most  gloomy  apprehen- 
sions. The  anguish  of  his  mind  rapidly 
consumed  the  vigour  of  his  constitu- 
tion. About  Christmas  he  fell  into 


a  fever,  which  obstinttely  defied  the 
powers  of  medicine.  When  Henry 
heard  of  his  danger,  he  exclaimed, 
"God  forbid  that  he  should  die.  I 
would  not  lose  him  for  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds."  He  immediately  ordered 
three  physicians  to  hasten  to  Esher ; 
repeatedly  assured  the  cardinal  of  his 
unabated  attachment,  and,  no  longer 
concealing  his  anxiety  from  Anne 
Boleyn,  compelled  her  to  send  to 
the  sick  man  a  tablet  of  gold  for  a 
token  of  reconciliation.6 

As  the  agitation  of  Wolsey's  mind 
subsided,  the  health  of  his  body  was 
restored;  but  his  enemies  had  pre- 
pared for  him  a  new  conflict,  and 
required  of  him  additional  sacrifices. 
The  promises  which  had  been  made 
to  him  were  still  disregarded;  the 
resolution  of  one  day  was  recalled  by 
that  of  the  next ;  and  the  cardinal  at 
last  intrusted  his  interests  to  the  dis- 
cretion of  Cromwell,  who  purchased 
a  final  settlement  by  the  grant  of 
annuities  to  the  friends  of  the  oppo- 
site party  out  of  the  bishopric  of  Win- 
chester.7 It  was  ultimately  agreed 
that  Wolsey  should  retain  the  admi- 
nistration, temporal  as  well  as  spi- 
ritual, of  the  archiepiscopal  see  of 
York,"  but  make  over  to  the  crown, 
for  the  term  of  his  natural  life,  all  the 


1  Fiddes,  Collect.  172.  The  contents  of 
this  bill,  which  evidently  contains  whatever 
could  be  said  against  Wolsey  bj  his  bitterest 
enemies,  may  be  considered  as  a  presumptive 
proof  of  innocence.  Burnet  unaccountably 
takes  for  granted  every  charge  in  it,  but  he 
should  have  recollected  that  it  was  not  only 
not  proved,  but  actually  rejected  by  the 
house  of  commons.  Wolsey  says  of  its 
contents  :  "  whereof  a  great  part  be  un- 
true ;  and  those,  which  be  true,  are  of  such 
sort,  that  by  the  doing  thereof  no  malice  or 
untruth  can  be  arrected  unto  me,  neither 
to  the  prince's  person,  nor  to  the  realm." 
—Ibid.  207.  State  Papers,  i.  354. 

»  Cavendish,  463.  I  ascribe  its  rejection 
to  the  king,  from  the  character  of  Cromwell, 
and  the  general  subserviency  of  the  parlia- 
ments in  this  reign.  Cromwell  would  not 
have  dared  to  oppose  the  bill,  nor  the  com- 
mons to  reject  it,  had  they  not  received  an 
intimation  that  such  was  the  royal  pleasure. 

»  L'e've'que  de  Bayonne,  p.  380. 


*  He  was  extremely  anxious  to  hear  "yf 
ttie  dyspleasure  of  my  lady  Anne"  (formerly 
she  was  mistress  Anne)  "  be  somewhat 
asswaged,  as  I  pray  God  the  same  may  be." 
In  that  case  she  was  "  to  be  further  la- 
bonryd."  Her  favour  was  "  the  onely  help 
and  remedy."  For  information  on  that 
head  he  looked  to  Sir  Henry  Norris.— State 
Papers,  352. 

s  Ibid.  *  Cavendish,  471. 

These  were  the  lord  Sandys  and  his  sou 
Thomas,  Sir  William  Fitzwilliam,  Sir  Henry 
Guilfprd,  Sir  John  Russell,  and  Sir  Henry 
Norris.  Their  pensions  ought  to  have 
ceased  at  the  death  of  the  cardinal,  who  had 
only  a  life  interest  in  the  bishopric ;  but 
they  were  then  settled  on  them  for  life  by 
act  of  parliament. — Rolls,  clxxxviii.  St. 
22  Hen.  VIII.  22.  State  Papers,  i.  355. 

8  Henry  was  so  delighted  with  York-place 
(afterwards  Whitehall),  that  he  required 
Wolsey  to  make  a  transfer  of  it  from  the 
church  to  the  crown.  The  cardinal  objected 


A.D.  1529.] 


WOLSEY  D1SGBACED. 


profits,  all  advowsons,  and  all  nomi- 
nations to  offices,  spiritual  or  secular, 
in  his  gift,  as  bishop  of  Winchester 
and  abbot  of  St.  Alban's,  and  that  in 
return  he  should  receive  a  general 
pardon,  an  annuity  of  one  thousand 
marks  from  the  bishopric  of  Win- 
chester, and  a  release  from  all  moneys 
due  to  the  king  for  his  maintenance 
since  the  day  of  his  conviction.1 

When  he  had  assented  to  every 
demand,  he  was  allowed  to  exchange 
Esher  for  Richmond,  where  he  spent 
most  of  his  time  with  the  monks  of 
the  Charter-house.  Still  his  vicinity 
to  the  court  alarmed  the  jealousy  of 
his  enemies ;  and  a  peremptory  order 
to  reside  within  his  archbishopric 
drove  him,  notwithstanding  his  en- 
treaties and  remonstrances,  to  a  dis- 
tance of  two  hundred  miles.  Henry, 
to  soften  the  rigour  of  his  exile,  had 
recommended  him  in  the  warmest 
terms  to  the  attention  of  the  northern 
nobility ;  and  Wolsey  by  his  conduct 
and  generosity  quickly  won  their 
esteem,  His  thoughts  seemed  entirely 
devoted  to  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
concerns  of  his  station.  On  every 
Sunday  and  holiday  he  rode  to  some 
country  church,  celebrated  mass  in 
public,  ordered  one  of  his  chaplains 
to  preach  to  the  people,  and  at  the 
conclusion  distributed  alms  to  the 
poor.  He  made  it  his  favourite  em- 
ployment to  reconcile  families  at 


variance ;  a  tedious  and  expensive 
office,  as  he  frequently  satisfied  the 
injured  or  discontented  party  out  of 
his  own  purse.  Every  gentleman  in 
the  county  was  welcome  to  his  table, 
which  was  plentifully,  though  not 
extravagantly,  supplied:  and,  in  re- 
pairing the  houses  and  buildings  be- 
longing to  his  see,  he  gave  employment 
to  three  hundred  workmen.  The 
more  he  was  known,  the  more  he  was 
beloved ;  the  men,  to  whom  in  pros- 
perity he  had  been  an  object  of  hatred, 
applauded  his  conduct  under  adver- 
sity ;  and  even  at  court  his  name  was 
occasionally  whispered  with  feelings  of 
approbation.  But  the  fear  of  offend- 
ing Anne  imposed  silence  on  his 
friends ;  and  his  enemies  were  careful 
to  paint  all  his  actions  to  the  king  in 
false  and  odious  colours.2 

The  cardinal  had  invited  the  nobi- 
lity of  the  county  to  assist  at  his 
installation  on  the  7th  of  November ; 
on  the  4th  he  was  unexpectedly 
arrested  at  Cawood  on  a  charge  of 
high  treason.  What  was  the  parti- 
cular crime  alleged  against  him,  we 
know  not ;  but  the  king  asserted  that 
his  very  servants  had  accused  him  of 
practising  against  the  government 
both  within  and  without  the  realm ; 
and  it  is  probable  that  the  suspicion 
of  Henry  was  awakened  by  the  cor- 
respondence of  the  cardinal  with  the 
pope  and  the  king  of  France.3  Wol- 


that  he  was  only  tenant  for  life.  But 
Shelley,  a  justice  of  the  court  of  Common 
Pleas,  came  and  informed  him  that  it  was 
the  opinion  of  all  the  king's  judges,  and  of 
all  the  counsel,  "that  his  grace  should  re- 
cognise before  a  judge  the  right  of  York- 
place  to  be  in  the  king  and  his  successors." 
He  replied  that  he  was  ready  to  obey,  "  in- 
asmuch," said  he,  as  ye,  the  fathers  of  the 
laws,  say  that  I  may  lawfully  do  it.  There- 
fore I  charge  your  conscience,  and  dis- 
charge mine.  Howbeit,  I  pray  you,  show 
his  majesty  from  me,  that  I  most  humbly 
desire  his  highness  to  call  to  his  most  gra- 
cious remembrance  that  there  is  both 
heaven  and  hell."  He  then  executed  the 
recognizance.  —  Singer's  Cavend.  i.  218. 
This  formed  a  precedent  for  subseqnent 


surrenders    of    church    property    to    the 
crown. 

1  Rym.  xiy.  365—376.    Henry  had  sup- 
plied 'him  with  money  to  pay  part  of  his 
debts,  and  with  a  quantity  of  plate,  furni- 
ture, and  provisions,  valued  at  6.374J.  3s.  7  jd. 

2  These  particulars  appear  from  the  ex- 
tracts of  Cromwell's  letters  to  Wolsey  at 
this  period,  in  Fiddes,  Collect,  p.  208,  209. 

s  If  we  may  believe  Cavendish,  he  wrote 
to  them,  to  reconcile  him  with  Henry. — Cav. 
Poem,  536.  Mi  disse  el  re,  che  contro  de 
8.  M.  el  machinava  nel  regno  e  fuori,  e  m'a 
detto  dove  et  come,  e  che  un'  e  forsipiu 
dun'  de  suoi  aervitori  1'hanno  e  scoperto  ed 
accusato. — Joacchino  apnd  Le  Grand,  iii. 
529.  Nov.  10.  The  king  tooi  great  pains  to 
convince  Joaochino  that  he  was  not  sua- 


261 


HENRY  -VIII. 


[CHAP,  vi  u. 


sey  betrayed  no  symptoms  of  guilt; 
the  king  had  not,  he  maintained,  a 
more  loyal  subject  than  himself ;  there 
lived  not  on  earth  the  man  who  could 
look  him  in  the  face  and  oharge  him 
with  untruth ;  nor  did  he  seek  any 
other  favour  than  to  be  confronted 
with  his  accusers.1 

His  health  (he  suffered  much  from 
the  dropsy)  would  not  allow  him 
to  travel  with  expedition ;  and  at 
Sheffield  Park,  a  seat  of  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  he  was  seized  with  a 
dysentery  which  confined  him  a  fort- 
night. As  soon  as  he  was  able  to 
mount  his  mule,  he  resumed  his  jour- 
ney ;  but  feeling  his  strength  rapidly 
decline,  he  said  to  the  abbot  of  Leices- 
ter, as  be  entered  the  gate  of  the 
monastery,  "  Father  abbot,  I  am  come 
to  lay  my  bones  among  you."  He 
was  immediately  carried  to  his  bed ; 
and  the  second  day,  seeing  Kyng- 
ston,  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  in 
his  chamber,  he  addressed  him  in 
these  well-known  words:  "Master 
Kyngston,  I  pray  you  have  me  com- 
mended to  his  majesty ;  and  beseech 
him  on  my  behalf  to  call  to  mind  all 
things  that  have  passed  between  us, 
especially  respecting  good  Queen  Ca- 
therine and  himself;  and  then  shall 
his  grace's  conscience  know  whether 
I  have  offended  him  or  not.  He  is  a 
prince  of  most  royal  courage ;  rather 
than  miss  any  part  of  his  will,  he  will 
endanger  one  half  of  his  kingdom; 
and  I  do  assure  you,  I  have  often 
kneeled  before  him,  sometimes  for 
three  hours  together,  to  persuade  him 
from  his  appetite  and  could  not  pre- 


vail. And,  Master  Kyngston,  had  I 
but  served  C4od  as  diligently  as  I  have 
served  the  king,  he  would  not  have 
given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs.  But 
this  is  my  just  reward  for  my  pains 
and  study,  not  regarding  my  service 
to  God,  but  only  my  duty  to  my 
prince."2  Having  received  the  last 
consolations  of  religion,  he  expired 
the  next  morning,  in  the  sixtieth  year 
of  his  age.  The  best  eulogy  on  his 
character  is  to  be  found  in  the  con- 
trast between  the  conduct  of  Henry 
before  and  after  the  cardinal's  fall. 
As  long  as  "Wolsey  continued  in 
favour,  the  royal  passions  were  con- 
fined within  certain  bounds  ;  the  mo- 
ment his  influence  was  extinguished, 
they  burst  through  every  restraint, 
and  by  their  caprice  and  violence 
alarmed  his  subjects  and  astonished 
the  other  nations  of  Europe. 

The  eventful  history  of  this  great 
minister  has  led  us  into  the  autumn 
of  the  year  succeeding  his  disgrace ; 
it  will  be  necessary  to  revert  to  tha$ 
event,  and  to  notice  the  changes  occa- 
sioned by  his  removal  from  the  royal 
councils.  The  duke  of  Norfolk  be- 
came president  of  the  cabinet;  the 
duke  of  Suffolk,  earl  marshal,  and  the 
viscount  Rochford,  soon  afterwards 
created  earl  of  Wiltshire,  retained 
their  former  places.  To  appoint  a 
successor  to  Wolsey  in  the  Chancery 
was  an  object  of  great  importance. 
If  Warham,  archbishop  of  Canter 
bury,  was  proposed,  he  was  rejected 
on  the  ground  of  his  being  a  church- 
man;3 and  the  office  was  at  length 
given  to  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  trea- 


pected  of  being  an  accomplice ;  the  dukes 
of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  even  swore  that  he 
was  not.  Hence  I  think  it  probable  that 
the  cardinal's  letters  passed  through  his 
hands. 

1  It  is  most  improbable  that  the  cardinal 
could  have  committed  any  act  of  treason 
since  his  pardon  in  February ;  and  a  man 
must  be  credulous  indeed,  to  believe  it  on 
the  mere  testimony  of  the  despatches  sent 
by  his  enemies  to  ambassadors  abroad. 
8nrh  despatches  with  general  charges  were 


always  sent  on  similar  occasions  to  justify 
the  government  in  the  eyes  of  foreign 
princes. 

2  Cavendish,    513—535.     In  the  printed 
editions  it  is    asserted    that    the   cardinal 
poisoned  himself,  but  Dr.  Wordsworth  has 
shown  that  it  was  an  interpolation.    The 
passage  is   not  in  the  manuscript  copies. 
—Ibid.,  also  Singer's  Cavendish,  377. 

3  Erasmus  (Ep.  p.  1347)  says  that  War- 
ham  refused  the  office.    I  rather  believe  the 
bishop  of  Uayoune,  who,  ouly  three  d»yt 


.D.  1529.] 


THE  NEW  MINISTRY. 


surer  of  the  household,  and  chancellor 
of  the  duchy  of  Lancaster.  Sir  Wil- 
liam Fitzwilliam  succeeded  More; 
aiid  Dr.  Stephen  Gardiner  was  made 
secretary  to  the  king,  who  believed 
him  to  have  inherited  the  abilities  of 
the  cardinal,  and  would  have  raised 
him  perhaps  to  equal  power,  could  he 
have  been  induced  to  relinquish  his 
profession  as  a  churchman.1  These 
six  formed  the  privy  council ;  but,  if 
we  may  believe  the  account  given  by 
the  French  ambassador  to  his  court, 
Anne  Boleyn  was  the  real  minister, 
who  through  her  uncle  and  father 
ruled  in  the  cabinet,  and  by  the  influ- 
ence of  her  charms  exercised  the  most 
despotic  sway  over  the  heart  and 
mind  of  her  lover.2 

It  may  justly  excite  surprise  that 
More  should  accept  this  dangerous 
office.  With  a  delicate  conscience 
and  a  strong  sense  of  duty,  he  was  not 
a  fit  associate  for  less  timorous  col- 
leagues ;  the  difficulties,  which  in  the 
course  of  two  years  compelled  him  to 
retire  from  court  must  even  now  have 
stared  him  in  the  face ;  and  it  was 
still'in  his  power  to  avoid,  but  uncer- 
tain if  he  could  weather  the  storm. 
As  a  scholar  he  was  celebrated  in 
every  part  of  Europe,  and  as  a  lawyer 
he  had  long  practised  with  applause 
and  success.  From  the  office  of  under- 
sheriff  or  common  serjeant,  Henry 
had  called  him  to  court,  had  em- 
ployed him  in  different  embassies, 
and  had  rewarded  him  with  the  lucra- 
tive preferments  which  have  already 
been  mentioned.  The  merit  of  More 
was  universally  acknowledged;  even 
Wolsey  declared  that  he  knew  no 
one  more  worthy  to  be  his  successor; 
but  there  were  few  instances  in  which 


the  seals  had  been  intrusted  to  any 
but  dignified  churchmen,  none  in 
which  they  had  been  given  to  a  simple 
knight.  On  this  account  he  was 
accompanied  to  the  Star  Chamber  by 
a  crowd  of  bishops  and  noblemen ; 
and  the  duke  of  Norfolk  conducted 
him  to  his  seat,  pronounced  an  eulo- 
gium  on  his  talents  and  virtues,  arad 
observed  that,  if  in  this  instance  the 
king  had  departed  from  ancient  pre- 
cedent, he  was  fully  justified  by  the 
superior  merit  of  the  new  chancellor. 
More  in  return  professed  his  obli- 
gation to  the  king  and  to  the  duke ; 
and  at  the  same  time  paid  an  elo- 
quent compliment  to  the  abilities 
of  his  predecessor,  whose  example 
would  stimulate  him  to  the  faithful 
discharge  of  his  duty,  and  whose  fall 
would  teach  him  to  moderate  his 
ambition.3 

For  some  time  a  rumour  had  pre- 
vailed that  a  great  stroke  was  medi- 
tated against  the  wealth  or  the  immu- 
nities of  the  church.  When  the  par- 
liament assembled,  three  bills  respect- 
ing mortuaries,  the  probate  of  wills, 
and  the  plurality  of  benefices,  were 
passed  in  the  lower  house ;  but  in  the 
house  of  lords  the  bishops  and  abbots 
offered  so  vigorous  an  opposition,  that 
the  most  obnoxious  clauses  were  either 
modified  or  expunged.  Of  those 
which  remained,  two  deserve  the 
notice  of  the  reader,  as  being  the  first 
which  in  this  reign  were  enacted  in 
opposition  to  the  papal  authority. 
By  these  every  clergyman  who  had 
obtained  in  the  court  of  Rome  or 
elsewhere  a  license  of  non-residence 
on  his  cure,  or  a  dispensation  to  hold 
more  benefices  than  the  statute 
allowed,  became  liable,  in  the  first 


before  More  accepted  it,  says  that  it  would 
not  be  given  to  a  churchman.  On  ne  scait 
encore  qui  aura  le  sceau.  Je  croy  bien  que 
les  prestres  n'y  toucheront  plus,  et  que  a  ce 

Sirlement  ils  auront  de  terribles  alarmes. — 
ct.  22,  p.  378. 

1  II  sera  fort  avant  au   maniement  des 
affaires,  principalemeut  s'il  veult  ietter  le 


froc  aui  horties. — Bayonne,  p.  378. 

2  Le  due  de  Norfok  est  faict  chef  de  ce 
counseil,  et  en  son  absence  celuy  de  Suf- 
fock,    et    par    dessus    tout    mademoiselle 
Anne.— Id.  p. 377, 380, 384.  See  Appendix,  JR. 

3  Rym.  xiv.  350.     Stapleton,   Vit.    Mori, 
173—177.     See  More's  character  in  Pole, 
fol.  xc.  \ci. 


26G 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP.  vm. 


case,  to  a  penalty  of  twenty  pounds; 
and  in  the  second,  to  a  penalty  of 
seventy  pounds,  and  the  forfeiture 
of  the  profits  arising  from  such  bene- 
fices.1 At  the  same  time  the  new 
administration  introduced  a  bill  to 
release  the  king  from  the  payment  of 
any  loans  of  money  which  might  have 
been  made  to  him  by  his  subjects. 
It  passed  through  the  upper  house 
with  few  observations;  in  the  lower 
the  opposition  was  obstinate ;  but  a 
majority  had  been  previously  secured 
by  the  introduction  of  members  who 
held  offices  either  under  the  king  or 
his  ministers.  By  the  nation  this 
iniquitous  act  was  loudly  condemned. 
Six  years  had  elapsed  since  the  loans 
were  made;  and  in  many  instances 
the  securities  had  passed  by  sale  or 
gift  or  bequest  from  the  hands  of  the 
original  creditors  into  those  of  others. 
To  justify  the  measure,  it  was  con- 
tended in  the  preamble  of  the  bill, 
that  the  prosperity  of  the  nation 
under  the  king's  paternal  care  called 
on  his  subjects  to  display  their  grati- 
tude by  cancelling  his  debts ;  a  pre- 
text which,  if  true,  reflected  the 
highest  credit  on  the  administra- 
tion of  Wolsey ;  if  false,  ought  to 
have  covered  his  successors  with 
disgrace.2 

I  have  already  noticed  the  recon- 
ciliation between  the  courts  of  Rome 
and  Madrid.  It  was  followed  by  an 
interview  between  Charles  and  Cle- 
ment at  Bologna,  where  during  four 
months  they  both  resided  under  the 
same  roof.  To  Henry  this  meeting 
seemed  to  present  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  proceeding  with  the  divorce; 
and,  as  he  had  hitherto  employed 


1  The  lower  house  of  convocation  com- 
plained, but  in  vain,  of  these  statutes, 
because  the  clergy  had  neither  given  their 
assent  to  them,  nor  been  asked  for  their 
advice.  (Ad  quae  facienda  nee  consenserunt 
per  se,  nee  per  procuratores  suos,  neque 
super  iisdem  consulti  fuerunt. — Collier,  ii. 
Records,  xxviii.)  This  was  certainly  the 
constitutional  language  of  former  times; 
but  it  was  so  long  since  it  had  been  used, 


clerical  negotiators  without  success, 
he  now  intrusted  the  charge  to  a  lay 
nobleman,  the  father  of  his  mistress. 
By  most  men  the  earl  of  Wiltshire 
was  deemed  an  objectionable  agent ; 
but  Henry  justified  his  choice  by  the 
observation,  that  no  one  could  be 
more  interested  in  the  event  of  the 
mission  than  the  man  whose  daughter 
would  reap  the  fruit  of  it.3  To  tho 
earl,  however,  were  joined  three  col- 
leagues, Stokesley,  bishop  elect  of 
London,  Lee,  the  king's  almoner, 
and  Bennet,  doctor  of  laws;  and 
these  were  accompanied  by  a  council 
of  divines,  among  whom  was  Thomas 
Cranmer,  a  clergyman  attached  to 
the  Boleyn  femily,  and  afterwards 
archbishop  of  Canterbury.  They  were 
furnished  with  powers  to  treat  of  a 
general  confederacy  against  the  Turks, 
and  with  instructions  to  ofier  to  tho 
pope>  considerable  present,  to  warn 
him  against  the  ambitious  projects 
and  treacherous  friendship  of  Charles, 
and  to  exhort  him  to  do  justice  to  a 
prince  who  was  the  firmest  support 
of  the  see  of  Rome.  The  negotiation 
with  the  emperor  was  intrusted  to 
the  dexterity  of  the  earl  of  Wiltshire, 
who  was  ordered  to  address  that 
prince  in  the  French  language,  stal- 
ing the  grounds  on  which  Henry 
demanded  the  divorce,  and  adroitly 
intermingling  with  those  grounds 
bints  of  the  great  power  of  the  Eng- 
lish king,  of  the  benefits  which  might 
be  derived  from  his  friendship,  and 
of  the  evils  which  might  spring  from 
bis  enmity.  If  this  discourse  made 
no  favourable  impression,  the  ambas- 
sadors were  to  return ;  and  the  earl, 
when  he  took  leave,  was  to  observe 


that  it  was  disregarded  by  the  king. 

2  Rolls,   cxliii.      Burnet,   i.   Rec.   82.    A 
imilar  grant  was  made  by  the  clergy  (Wilk. 

Con.  iii.  717). 

3  A  letter  of  Joacchino  apud  Le  Grand, 
iii.  408.     Anne  Bpleyn's  father  had   been 
created  earl  of  Wiltshire  with  remainder  to 
his  heirs  male,  and  earl  of  Ormond  in  Ire- 
land with  remainder  to  his  heirs  general,  on 
the  8th  of  December,  15^9. 


A.D.  1530.  J 


EMBASSY  TO  CHARLES, 


that,  if  Henry  had  consulted  Charles, 
it  was  only  through  courtesy;  and 
that  he  would  follow  his  own  judg- 
ment, and  not  submit  to  the  arbi- 
tration of  the  pope,  against  whose 
authority  he  had  many  good  grounds 
of  exception.1  With  his  confidants 
the  king  spoke  of  this  as  of  his  last 
attempt ;  if  it  failed,  he  would  with- 
draw himself  from  the  obedience  of 
Clement  as  of  a  pontiff  unfit  for  his 
station  through  ignorance,  incapable 
of  holding  it  through  simony;  and 
that  he  might  have  no  occasion  to 
recur  to  the  Papal  See  in  beneficiary 
matters,  he  would  establish  a  bishop 
with  patriarchal  powers  within  his 
own  dominions,  an  example  which  he 
had  no  doubt  would  be  eagerly  fol- 
lowed by  every  sovereign  in  Europe.8 

Among  the  many  causes  of  soli- 
citude which  preyed  on  the  mind  of 
Clement,  the  divorce  of  Henry  was 
one  of  the  most  perplexing.  He  had 
indulged  a  hope  that,  after  the  revo- 
cation of  the  commission,  the  Cardinal 
would  have  pronounced  judgment  in 
virtue  of  his  ordinary  powers,  and  the 
king  would  have  proceeded  to  a 
second  marriage  without  asking  the 
papal  consent,  or  interfering  with  the 
papal  authority.3  With  this  view  he 
had  declined  for  nine  months  the 
cognizance  of  the  cause;  but  at 
length,  unable  to  resist  the  personal 
application  of  Charles,  he  signed  a 
breve,  forbidding  Henry  to  marry 
l>efore  the  publication  of  his  sen- 
tence, and  enjoining  him  in  the  mean- 
while to  treat  Catherine  as  his  lawful 
wife.4 

Within  a  few  days  the  ambassadors 


arrived;  and  their  arrival  furnished 
him  with  a  specious  reason  for  sus- 
pending the  operation  of  the  breve. 
He  received  them  graciously,  and 
gave  them  his  word,  that  he  would 
do  in  favour  of  Henry  whatever  his 
conscience  would  permit.  But  when 
they  were  introduced  to  Charles,  that 
prince  did  not  conceal  his  feelings  at 
the  sight  of  the  father  of  her  who  was 
the  rival  of  his  aunt.  "  Stop,  sir," 
said  the  emperor,  "  allow  your  col- 
leagues to  speak.  You  are  a  party  in 
the  cause."  The  earl  replied  with 
firmness,  that  he  did  not  stand  there 
as  a  father  defending  the  interests  of 
his  child,  but  as  a  minister  represent- 
ing the  person  of  his  sovereign ;  that 
if  Charles  would  acquiesce  in  the 
royal  wish,  Henry  would  rejoice;  if 
he  did  not,  the  imperial  disappro- 
bation should  never  prevent  the  king 
of  England  from  demanding  and 
obtaining  justice.  As  the  price  of  his 
consent,  the  ambassadors  offered  him 
the  sum  of  three  hundred  thousand 
crowns,  the  restoration  of  the  mar- 
riage portion  paid  with  Catherine, 
and  security  for  a  maintenance  suit- 
able to  her  birth  during  life.  But  he 
replied,  that  he  was  not  a  merchant 
to  sell  the  honour  of  his  aunt.  The 
cause  was  now  before  the  proper  tri- 
bunal. If  the  pope  should  decide 
against  her,  he  would  be  silent ;  if  in 
her  favour,  he  would  support  her 
cause  with  all  the  means  which  God 
had  placed  at  his  disposal.5 

The  new  ministers  condescended  to 
profit  by  the  advice  of  the  man  whom 
they  had  supplanted,  and  sought,  in 
conformity  with  his  recommendation, 


1  See  these  instructions  among  the  tran- 
scripts for  the  N.  Ryraer,  168. 

2  Letters  of  Joacchino  apud  Le  Grand,  iii. 
p.  409,  418. 

3  A  ce  qu'il  m'en  a  declare"  des  fois  plus 
de  trois  en  secret,  il  seroit  content  que  le 
dit  marriage  fust  ja  faict  ou  par  dispense  du 
legat  d"  Angleterre  ou  autrement,  mais  que  ce 
ne  fust  par  son  auctorite",  ny  aussi  diminuant 
sa  puissance. — Lettro  de  1'eveque  de  Tarbes, 


a  Bologna,  27  Mars,  apud  Le  Grand,  iii.  400. 

*  Le  Grand,  iii.  446.  He  had  previously 
communicated  the  case  with  the  writings  in 
favour  of  Henry  to  the  celebrated  Cajetan, 
whose  answer  may  be  seen  in  Raynaldus, 
xxxii.  196.  It  was  adverse  to  the  king. 

5  These  particulars  are  extracted  from 
letters  written  from  Bologna  by  the  bishop 
of  Tarbes  on  the  27th  and  28th  of  March.— 
Le  Grand,  iii.  401,  454. 


268  HENBYVHI. 


[OUP.TIIL 


^^ 


*™*™3  °f  the  u--»ities, 


M!I       £Cn  ,?E1St'    P-    290' 
Melan.  Ep.  ad  Camer.  p.  20. 

3  On  this  subject  we  have 
documents.    One 


llaljc>    1717. 


with  respect.-Coustit.  History,  i.  92.  But 
this  ingenious  comment  is  disposed  of  at 
°"^  by  a  letter  from  Dr.  Bennet,  the  Enff- 
bsh  agent,  dated  Oct.  27,  which  Mr.  Haliafn 

°riKilal    8  in  the  P°8' 
it 


fang 


have  two  wives-    bu 


the 


placed.      Mr.   Hallam    however      eem,  t« 


Ueat 


that 


A.D.  1530.] 


LETTER  TO  CLEMENT. 


269 


his  hopes  on  France  and  her  fourteen 
universities;   but  when   he  claimed 
the  assistance  of  his  French  brother, 
that  prince  artfully  replied  that  1 
dared  not  provoke   the   resentment 
ofthe  emperor,  till  he  had  paid  two 
millions  of  crowns,  the  ransom  ot  his 
sons,  who  were  detained  as  hostages  in 
Spain.  The  impatience  of  Henry  swal- 
lowed tbebait.  He  advanced  to  Francis 
four  hundred  thousand  crowns  as  a 
loan,  postponed  for  an  unlimited  pe- 
riod  the  payment  of   five  hundred 
thousand  already  due  to   him  from 
that  monarch,  and  sent  to  him  the 
« lily   of  diamonds,"  which  Charles 
and  Maximilian  had  formerly  pawned 
to  Henry  VII.  for  the  sum  of  fifty 
thousand  crowns.1    In  due  course  oi 
time  the  princes  were  liberated,  and 
Francis,   now  his  own  master,  dis- 
played  his   gratitude  to    Henry  by 
labouring  to  procure  from  the  faculty 
of  theology  in  Paris  an   answer  in 
favour  of  the  divorce.    But  the  oppo 
sition  was  numerous  and  obstinate, 
and  the  contest  between  the  crown 
and  the   faculty  lasted   for   several 
months,  till  a  spurious   decree  was 
fabricated  by  order  of  Francis^  and 
was  afterwards  published  by  Henry 
as  the  real  decision  of  the  university 
of  Paris.     From  Orleans  and  lou- 
louse,  from  the  theologians  of  Bourges, 
•    -     civilians  of  Angers,  similar 


aware  that   he  knew)    the   arts  by 
which  they  had  been  purchased  or 
extorted;4    and  both  were   sensible, 
that,  independently  of  other  consi- 
derations, they  did  not  reach  the  real 
merits  of  the  question ;  for  all  of  them 
were  founded  on  the  supposition  that 
the  marriage   between  Arthur    and 
Catherine  had  actually  been  consum- 
mated, a  disputed  point  which  the 
king  was  unable  to  prove,  and  which 
the  queen  most  solemnly  denied.    In 
the  place  of  these  opinions  it  was 
deemed  more  prudent  to  substitute  a 
letter  to  the  pope,  subscribed  by  the 
lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  by 
a  certain  number  of  commoners,  in 
the  name  of  the  whole  nation.    This 
instrument  complains  in  forcible  terms 
of  Clement's  partiality  and  tergiver- 
sation.   What  crime  had  the  king  of 


OD  celebrated  universities 

«**  ^ndwasnow 


uncourteous  and  menacing 
Clement  replied  with 
.  that  Recharge 


innfavour  of  the  existing  marriage^ 
The  other  universities  were  not  cc  - 
suited,  or  their  answers  were  sup- 

PThtd  been 

lay  before  the  pontiff  this  mus  of   more  art     that  he  had  pushed 


284,  »•  »..  ». 
364,  378-381.    Le  Grand,  ui.  423-446. 

*APudLe  Grand,  iii.  507. 


« 

^men{{9  aplld  Kaynald.  p. 

Herbert,  331. 


270 


HEN  II Y  VIII. 


[CHAP.  viii. 


till  the  whole  college  of  cardinals 
unanimously  charged  him  with  in- 
justice ;  that,  if  he  had  not  since  pro- 
ceeded with  his  cause,  it  was  because 
Henry  had  appointed  no  attorney  to 
plead  for  him,  and  because  his  ambas- 
sadors at  Bologna  had  asked  for  addi- 
tional time ;  that  the  opinions  which 
they  mentioned  had  never  been  offi- 
cially communicated  to  the  Holy  See, 
nor  did  he  know  of  any,  which  were 
fortified  with  reasons  and  authorities 
to  inform  his  judgment;  that  if  Eng- 
land were  really  threatened  with  a 
disputed  succession,  the  danger  would 
not  be  removed,  but  augmented,  by 
proceedings  contrary  to  right  and 
justice ;  that  if  lawless  remedies  were 
employed,  those  with  whom  they  ori- 
ginated must  answer  for  the  result ; 
that,  in  short,  he  was  ready  to  proceed 
with  the  cause  immediately,  and  to 
show  to  the  king  every  indulgence 
and  favour  compatible  with  justice ; 
one  thing  only  he  begged  in  return, 
that  they  would  not  require  of  him, 
through  gratitude  to  man,  to  vio- 
late the  immutable  commandments 
of  God,1 

Dr.  Bennet,  when  the  earl  of  Wilt- 
shire with  his  colleagues  left  Bologna, 
had  remained  behind  in  quality  of 
resident  ambassador  with  the  emperor. 
But  he  was  soon  ordered  to  follow 
Clement  to  Borne,  where  he  was 
joined  by  the  bishop  of  Tarbes,  now 
created  a  cardinal,  and  empowered  to 
act  as  envoy  from  the  king  of  France 
en  the  behalf  of  Henry.  They  were 


1  Id.  335.  With  the  remonstrance  Henry 
§*nt  a  letter  from  himself  complaining  of 
tae  treatment  which  he  had  receded.  He 
Mentions  the  commission,  the  promise  not 
tj  revoke  it,  the  decretal  bull  which  was 
I  ornt,  and  then  adds,  "  if  your  holiness  did 
grant  us  all  these  things  justly,  ye  did  un- 
justly revoke  them ;  if  there  were  no  deceit 
or  fraud  in  the  revocation,  then  how  wrong- 
fully and  subtlely  have  been  done  all  those 
things  that  have  been  done."— Bnrnet,  i. 
Eec.  42.  The  date  should  be  Aug.  1530. 
We  are  not  acquainted  with  Clement's 
answer.  With  respect  to  the  bull,  he  could 


instructed  to  propose  the  following 
expedients  to  the  pontiff.  They 
requested  him  to  appoint  a  court 
of  three  English  bishops,  or,  if  there 
existed  any  objection  to  the  bishops, 
to  convert  the  convocation  of  the 
province  of  Canterbury  into  a  court, 
with  full  power  to  hear  and  deter- 
mine the  cause  of  the  divorce  without 
reserve  or  appeal.  He  replied  that, 
in  as  far  as  regarded  himself,  he 
would  readily  appoint  such  a  court, 
but  that  he  could  not  do  it  in  justice 
nor  according  to  law,  without  the 
consent  of  the  queen,  who  had  al- 
ready commenced  proceedings  both  in 
the  court  of  the  Signature,  and  in 
the  Consistory.  It  was  then  asked 
whether,  on  the  supposition  that 
Henry  should  make  use  of  such 
remedies  as  in  his  conscience  he 
thought  lawful,  Clement  would  bind 
himself  to  remain  passive,  and  refuse 
to  interfere,  at  the  request  of  Cathe- 
rine; a  question  to  which  he  returned 
an  indignant  answer,  as  if  he  looked 
upon  it  as  an  insult. 

They  insisted  on  the  evils  to  the 
church  which  might  ensue  from  the 
displeasure  of  two  such  powerful  mo- 
narchs ;  but  ho  replied,  "  that  if  such 
inconvenience  should  follow,  he  had 
liever  it  should  follow  for  doing  his 
duty,  than  the  like  should  follow  for 
lack  of  not  doing  it"  There  now 
remained  but  one  resource,  to  request 
that  he  would  stay  the  proceedings  in 
the  Roman  courts,  for  the  purpose  of 
gaining  time  for  an  amicable  compro- 


only  acknowledge  his  own  weakness  in  suf- 
fering it  to  be  extorted  from  him  by  the 
entreaties  of  Wolsey  and  the  agents.  But 
to  the  other  part  of  the  complaiut,  when  it 
was  urged  by  Bonner,  he  replied,  that  "if 
the  queen  had  not  given  an  oath  quod  non 
sperabat  consequi  iustiti«  complementum 
in  partibus,  he  would  not  have  advoked  the 
matter  at  all;  but  seeing  she  gave  that 
oath,  and  refused  the  judges  aa  suspect, 
appealing  also  to  hia  court,  he  said  he 
might  and  ought  to  hear  her,  hia  promise 
made  to  your  highness,  which  was  qualified, 
notwithstanding."— Burnet,  iii.  Bee.  40. 


A.D.  15SO.J 


ACCOUNT  OF  CKOMWELL. 


2PI 


mise  between  the  parties.  To  this  he 
consented ;  but  for  three  weeks  only,1 
and  the  cardinal  and  Bennet  wrote 
to  Henry,2  detailing  these  particulars, 
and  informing  him  that  Clement, 
though  he  interposed  every  obstacle 
in  his  power,  would  soon  be  com- 
pelled, through  the  urgent  solicita- 
tions of  the  imperialists,  to  issue  an 
inhibitory  breve,  forbidding  all  arch- 
bishops or  bishops,  courts  or  tri- 
bunals, to  give  judgment  in  the 
matrimonial  cause  against  Catherine. 
It  was  observed  that  he  became  more 
pensive  than  usual.  All  his  expedients 
were  exhausted ;  he  saw  that  he  could 
neither  remove  the  opposition  of  the 
emperor,  nor  obtain  the  consent  of 
the  pontiff;  and  found  that  after  so 
many  attempts  he  was  involved  in 
greater  difficulties  than  before.  He 
began  to  waver ;  and  observed  to  his 
confidants  that  he  had  been  grossly 
deceived;  he  should  never  have  sought 
a  divorce,  had  he  not  been  assured 
that  the  papal  approbation  might  be 
easily  obtained;  that  assurance  had 
proved  false ;  and  he  would  now  aban- 


don the  attempt  for  ever.3  These 
words  were  soon  whispered  from  one 
to  another ;  they  quickly  reached  the 
ear  of  Anne  Boleyn ;  and  dismay  was 
painted  on  the  countenances  of  the 
mistress  and  her  advocates,  of  the 
ministers  and  their  adherents.  Their 
ruin  was  confidently  foretold;  they 
were  rescued  from  danger  by  the 
boldness  and  ingenuity  of  Cromwell. 

The  subsequent  elevation  of  Crom- 
well to  the  highest  honours  in  the 
state  reflects  an  interest  on  the  more 
obscure  portion  of  his  private  life. 
His  father  was  a  fuller  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  capital.  The  son  in 
his  early  youth  served  as  a  trooper  in 
the  wars  of  Italy ;  from  the  army  ho 
passed  to  the  service  of  a  Venetian 
merchant;  and  after  some  time,  re- 
turning to  England,  exchanged  the 
counter  for  the  study  of  the  law. 
Wolsey  had  employed  him  to  dissolve 
the  monasteries  which  had  been 
granted  for  the  establishment  of  his 
colleges,  a  trust  which  he  discharged 
to  the  satisfaction  of  his  patron,  at 
the  same  time  that  he  enriched  him- 


1  Raince  an  Grand  Maistre,  apud  Le 
Grand,  iii.  523. 

8  Soon  after  Bennet's  arrival,  Clement  in 
conversation  dropped  some  remark  about 
a  dispensation  for  two  wives.  The  envoy, 
unable  to  discover  the  object  of  the  pontiff 
in  introducing  this  subject,  resolved  not  to 
commit  himself  by  any  remark  of  his  own. 
His  words  are,  "  Syre,  schortly  after  my 
cumyng  hether,  the  pope  movyd  unto  me  of 
a  dispensation  for  two  wyffis,  whyche  he 
spake  at  the  same  tyme  so  dowgtfully,  that 
I  suspectyd  that  he  spake  yt  for  oon  of  the 
too  purposis;  the  oon  was,  that  I  schuld 
have  sette  yt  foreward  to  your  hyghnes,  to 
thentcnt,  that,  yff  your  hyghnes  woold  have 
acceptyd  hyt,  therby  he  schuld  have  goten 
a  mean  to  bryng  your  hyghnes  to  graunt, 
that,  yff  he  myght  dispense  yn  thys  case, 
wbyche  ys  of  no  lesse  force  then  your  case 
ys,  consequently  he  myght  dyspense  yn 
your  hyghnes'  case.  The  other  was,  that  I 
conjectured  that  yt  schuld  be  a  thyng  pur- 
posyd  to  enterteygne  your  hyghnes  yn 
summe  hope,  wherby  he  myght  differ  your 
cawse,  to  thentent  your  grace  schuld  trust 
apon  the  same.  Then  I  axed  hys  holynes 
whether  he  was  fully  resolved  that  he  myght 
dyspense  yn  the  same  case?  Then  hys 
bolj-nes  schewed  me  no :  but  seyd  that  a 


great  dyvine  schewed  him  that  he  thowght, 
for  avoydyng  of  a  gretter  inconvenience, 
hys  holynes  myght  dyspense  yn  the  same 
case :  how  be  yt,  he  seyd  he  woold  councel 
farder  apon  hyt  with  hys  councel.  And  now, 
of  late,  the  pope  schewed  me  that  hys  couu- 
cel  schewed  hym  playnlythat  he  cowd  not 
do  yt."— Tierney's  Dodd,  i.  p.  394,  from  the 
original  despatch  in  Mr.  Tierney's  posses- 
sion. It  was  written  Oct.  27, 1530;  and  the 
preceding  extract  is  valuable,  as  it  fully 
explains  in  what  sense  a  similar  proposal 
was  made  about  the  same  time  to  Cassali— 
if  it  ever  was  made  to  him:  for  Cassali 
catered  for  both  parties,— according  to  his 
letter  of  Sept.  18,  published  by  Herbert. 
Cassali  says  that  he  refused  to  commit  him- 
self by  his  answer,  because  he  knew  that 
the  question  had  been  suggested  to  Clement 
by  the  imperialists  for  some  hostile  purpose. 
The  comparison  of  this  letter  with  Bennet'a 
despatch  proves  that  there  was  no  such 
intention  on  the  part  of  the  pontiff,  and 
that  the  hint  was  thrown  out  for  some  poli- 
tical object.— See  Tierney's  Dodd,  i.  p.  207, 
note. 

s  Pole  had  this  account  from  one  of  those 
to  whom  the  king  had  disclosed  hia  senti- 
ments. Mihi  referebat  qui  audivit.— Apolog. 
ad  Carol.  Y.  Caes.  127. 


272 


HENKif  VIII. 


[CHAP. 


self.  His  principles,  however,  if  we 
may  believe  his  own  assertions,  were 
of  the  most  flagitious  description. 
He  had  learned  from  Machiavelli 
that  vice  and  virtue  were  but  names, 
fit  indeed  to  amuse  the  leisure  of  the 
learned  in  their  colleges,  but  per- 
nicious to  the  man  who  seeks  to  rise 
in  the  courts  of  princes.  The  great 
art  of  the  politician  was,  in  his  judg- 
ment, to  penetrate  through  the  dis- 
guise which  sovereigns  are  accustomed 
to  throw  over  their  real  inclinations, 
and  to  devise  the  most  specious  expe- 
dients by  which  they  may  gratify  their 
appetites  without  appearing  to  out- 
rage morality  or  religion.1  By  acting 
on  these  principles  he  had  already 
earned  the  hatred  of  the  public ;  and 
when  his  patron  was  disgraced,  was 
singled  out  for  punishment  by  the 
voice  of  the  populace.  He  followed 
Wolsey  to  Esher;  but  despairing  of 
the  fortune  of  the  fallen  favourite, 
hastened  to  court,  purchased  with 
presents  the  protection  of  the  minis- 
ters, and  was  confirmed  in  that  office 
under  the  king,  which  he  had  before 
held  under  the  cardinal, — the  steward- 
ship of  the  lands  of  the  dissolved  mo- 
nasteries.2 

The  day  after  the  king's  intention 
nad  transpired,  Cromwell,  who,  to  use 
his  own  words,  was  determined  to 
"make  or  mar,"3  solicited  and  ob- 
tained an  audience.  He  felt,  he  said, 
his  own  inability  to  give  advice ;  but 
neither  affection  nor  duty  would  suf- 
fer him  to  be  silent,  when  he  beheld 
the  anxiety  of  his  sovereign.  It  might 
be  presumption  in  him  to  judge ;  but 
he  thought  the  king's  difficulties  arose 
from  the  timidity  of  his  counsellors, 


1  Pole  relates  that  he  received  these  les- 
sons from  the  mouth  of  Cromwell  himself 
in  Wolsey's  palace.— Pole,  133—136.    See 
also  Pole's   discourse  with  John  Legh  on 
Machiavelli,  M8.  Cleop.  E.  vi.  381. 

2  Omnium  voce,  qui  aliquid  de  eo  intel- 
lexerant,  ad  supplicium  poscebatur.    Hoc 
eoim   aflirmare   possum,   qui  Londini  turn 
adfui,  et  voces  audivi.    Nee  vero  populus 


who  were  led  astray  by  outward  ap- 
pearances, and  by  the  opinions  of  the 
vulgar.  The  learned  and  the  univer- 
sities had  pronounced  in  favour  of 
the  divorce.  Nothing  was  wanting 
but  the  approbation  of  the  pope. 
That  approbation  might  indeed  be 
useful  to  check  the  resentment  of 
the  emperor ;  but,  if  it  could  not  bo 
obtained,  was  Henry  to  forego  his 
right?  Let  him  rather  imitate  the 
princes  of  Germany,  who  had  thrown 
off  the  yoke  of  Rome ;  let  him,  with 
the  authority  of  parliament,  declare 
himself  the  head  of  the  church  within 
his  own  realm.  At  present  England 
was  a  monster  with  two  heads.  But 
were  the  king  to  take  into  his  own 
hands  the  authority  now  usurped  by 
the  pontiff,  every  anomaly  would  be 
rectified ;  the  present  difficulties  would 
vanish ;  and  the  churchmen,  sensible 
that  their  lives  and  fortunes  were  at 
his  disposal,  would  become  the  obse- 
quious ministers  of  his  will.  Henry 
listened  with  surprise  and  pleasure  to 
a  discourse  which  flattered  not  only 
his  passion  for  Anne  Boleyn,  but  his 
thirst  of  wealth  and  greediness  of 
power.  He  thanked  Cromwell,  and 
ordered  him  to  be  sworn  of  his  privy 
council.4 

It  was  evident  that  the  adoption  of 
this  title  would  experience  consider- 
able opposition  from  the  clergy ;  but 
the  cunning  of  Cromwell  had  already 
organized  a  plan  which  promised  to 
secure  their  submission.  The  reader 
may  have  observed  in  a  preceding 
volume,  that  when  the  statutes  of 
premunire  were  passed,  a  power  wa.i 
given  to  the  sovereign  to  modify  01 
suspend  their  operation  at  his  discre- 


ullum  spectaculum  libentius  expectabat  — 
Pole,  l'>7.  s  Cavendish,  453. 

4  Pole,  118—122.  This  is  not  a  suppo- 
sititious discourse.  He  says  of  it  :  Hoc 
possum  affirmare  nihil  in  ilia  oratione  posi- 
tum  alicujus  momenti,  quod  non  vei  ab 
eodem  nuncio  [Cromwell  himself]  eo  nar- 
rante  intellexi,  vel  ab  illis,  qni  ejus  consilii 
fueruut  participes  (p.  123 1. 


A.D.  1531. 


THE  KING'S  SUPREMACY. 


278 


tion ;  and  from  that  time  it  had  been 
customary  for  the  king  to  grant  letters 
of  license  or  protection  to  particular 
individuals,  who  meant  to  act  or  had 
already  acted  against  the  letter  of  these 
statutes.  Hence  Wolsey  had  been 
careful  to  obtain  a  patent  under  the 
great  seal,  authorizing  him  to  exercise 
the  legatine  authority;  nor  did  any 
person  during  fifteen  years  presume 
to  accuse  him  of  violating  the  law. 
When,  however,  he  was  indicted  for 
the  supposed  offence,  he  refused  to 
plead  the  royal  permission,  and 
through  motives  of  prudence  suf- 
fered judgment  to  pass  against  him. 
Now,  on  the  ground  of  his  conviction, 
it  was  argued  that  all  the  clergy  were 
liable  to  the  same  penalty,  because  by 
admitting  his  jurisdiction,  they  had 
become,  in  the  language  of  the  statute, 
his  fautors  and  abettors ;  and  the 
attorney-general  was  instructed  to 
file  an  information  against  the  whole 
body  in  the  court  of  King's  Bench. 
The  convocation  hastily  assembled, 
and  offered  a  present  of  one  hundred 
thousand  pounds  in  return  for  a  full 
pardon.  To  their  grief  and  astonish- 
ment, Henry  refused  the  proposal, 
unless  in  the  preamble  to  the  grant 
a  clause  were  introduced,  acknow- 
ledging the  king  "to  be  the  protector 
and  only  supreme  head  of  the  church 
and  clergy  of  England."  Three  days 
were  consumed  in  useless  consulta- 
tion ;  conferences  were  held  with 
Cromwell  and  the  royal  commis- 
sioners ;  expedients  were  proposed 


and  rejected ;  and  a  positive  message 
was  sent  by  the  viscount  Rochford, 
that  the  king  would  admit  of  no 
other  alteration  than  the  addition  of 
the  words  "under  God."  What  in- 
duced him  to  relent  is  unknown  ;  but 
an  amendment  was  moved  with  his 
permission  by  Archbishop  Warham, 
and  carried  with  the  unanimous 
consent  of  both  houses.1  By  this  the 
grant  was  made  in  the  usual  manner ; 
but  in  the  enumeration  of  the  motives 
on  which  it  was  grounded  was  inserted 
within  a  parenthesis  the  following 
clause :  "  of  which  church  and  clergy 
we  acknowledge  his  majesty  to  be  the 
chief  protector,  the  only  and  supreme 
lord,  and,  as  far  as  the  law  of  Christ 
will  allow,  the  supreme  head."8  The 
northern  convocation  adopted  the 
same  language,  and  voted  for  the 
same  purpose  a  grant  of  eighteen 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  forty 
pounds.3  It  is  plain  that  the  intro- 
duction of  the  words,  "  as  far  as  the 
law  of  Christ  will  allow,"  served  to 
invalidate  the  whole  recognition;  since 
those  who  might  reject  the  king's 
supremacy  could  maintain  that  it  was 
not  allowed  by  the  law  of  Christ.  But 
Henry  was  yet  wavering  and  irreso- 
lute;  he  sought  to  intimidate  the 
court  of  Rome,  but  had  not  deter- 
mined to  separate  from  its  com- 
munion; it  was  therefore  thought 
sufficient  to  have  made  a  beginning ; 
the  qualifying  clause  might  be  after- 
wards expunged,  whenever  the  occa- 
sion required.4 


1  Wilk.  Con.  ii.  725.    The  king  had  also 
demanded  a  recognition  that  it  was  by  his 
protection  that  they  were  enabled  inservire 
curae  animarurn  majestati  ejus  commissas. — 
Ibid.    This,  however,  was  evaded,  by  the 
following  amendment,  inseryire  curse  populi 
majestati  ejus  commissi. — Ibid.  743. 

2  Ibid.  742.    Burnet  (i.  113)  uses  many 
arguments  to  show  that  Keginald  Pole  most 
probably  concurred  in  this  Vote.    But  Pole 
himself  reminds  the  king,  that  though  he 
heard  him  refuse   the   grant  without  the 
title,  he  was  not  present  when  the  convoca- 
tion consented  to  give  him  the  title.— Dum 
awe  statuereatur,  not  adfui  (fol.  xir.  Ixxxii.) 


s  Wilk.  Con.  iii.  744.  In  consequence  a 
pardon  was  granted.— Stat.  of  Realm,  iii. 
334. 

*  Tunstall,  bishop  of  Durham,  though  ho 
had  received  many  favours  from  Henry,  ha« 
the  courage  to  protest  against  it.  If  tho 
clause  meant  nothing  more  than  that  the 
king  was  head  i»  temporals,  why,  he  asked* 
did  it  not  say  so  P  If  it  meant  that  he  was 
head  in  spirituals,  it  was  contrary  to  th« 
doctrine  of  the  Catholic  church,  and  he 
called  on  all  present  to  witness  his  dissent 
from  it,  and  to  order  the  entry  of  his  pro- 
test  among  the  acts  of  the  convocation.-^ 
Wilk.  Con.  iii.  745. 


274 


HENRY  VIII. 


[CHAP,  vin 


In  the  meanwhile  the  inhibitory 
brief  had  been  signed  by  Clement,  and 
published  with  the  usual  solemnity  in 
Flanders.1  That  it  might  make  the 
less  impression  on  the  minds  of  the 
people,  the  new  chancellor,  attended 
by  twelve  peers,  went  to  the  lower 
house ;  the  answers  of  the  universities 
were  read;  above  a  hundred  papers, 
said  to  contain  the  opinions  of  theolo- 
gians and  canonists,  were  exhibited ; 
and  the  members  were  exhorted,  on 
their  return  to  their  homes,  to 
acquaint  their  neighbours  with  the 
justice  of  the  royal  cause.8  After 
the  prorogation,  several  lords  were 
deputed  to  wait  on  the  queen,  and 
to  request,  that  for  the  quiet  of  the 
king's  conscience,  she  would  refer  the 
matter  to  the  decision  of  four  temporal 
and  four  spiritual  peers.  "  God  grant 
him  a  quiet  conscience,"  she  replied ; 
"  but  this  shall  be  your  answer :  I  am 
his  wife  lawfully  married  to  him  by 
order  of  holy  church ;  and  so  I  will 
abide  until  the  court  of  Rome,  which 
was  privy  to  the  beginning,  shall  have 
made  thereof  an  end."  A  second  de- 
putation was  sent  with  an  order  for 
her  to  leave  the  palace  at  Windsor. 
"  Go  where  I  may,"  she  answered, "  I 
shall  still  be  his  lawful  wife."  In  obe- 
dience to  the  king,  she  repaired  to 
Ampthill,  where,  if  she  was  no  longer 
treated  as  queen,  she  no  longer  wit- 
nessed the  ascendancy  of  her  rival.3 

The  bishoprics  of  York  and  Win- 
chester, two  of  the  most  wealthy  pre- 
ferments in  the  English  church,  had 
remained  vacant  since  the  death  of 
Wolsey,  through  the  desire  of  Henry 
to  bestow  one  of  them  on  his  kinsman, 
Reginald  Pole.  That  young  nobleman 
was  the  son  of  Sir  Richard  Pole,  a 
Welsh  knight,  and  of  Margaret, 
countess  of  Salisbury,  the  daughter 
of  George,  duke  of  Clarence,  who 
had  been  put  to  death  by  the  order  of 
his  brother,  Edward  IV.  Henry  had 


taken  on  himself  the  charge  of  his 
education;  and  Reginald  spent  five 
years  in  the  university  of  Padua, 
where  his  birth  and  manners,  his 
talents  and  industry,  attracted  the 
notice,  and  won  the  esteem  of  the 
first  scholars  in  Italy.  On  his  return 
to  England,  shunning  the  favours 
which  his  sovereign  offered  him,  he 
retired  to  the  house  lately  belonging 
to  Dean  Colet  within  the  Carthusian 
monastery  at  Shene ;  and  at  the  ex- 
piration of  two  years,  that  he  mighfc 
avoid  the  storm  which  he  saw  gather- 
ing, obtained  the  royal  permission  to 
pursue  his  theological  studies  in  the 
university  of  Paris.  But  the  peac/j  of 
his  asylum  was  soon  invaded  by  an 
order  from  the  king  to  procure,  in 
conjui  ction  with  Langet,  the  brother 
of  the  bishop  of  Bayonne,  opinions 
in  favour  of  the  divorce;  a  charge 
from  the  execution  of  which  his  con- 
science recoiled,  and  which,  under  the 
pretence  of  youth  and  inexperience, 
he  resigned  to  the  address  of  his 
colleague.  Soon  after  his  recall,  he 
was  told  by  the  duke  of  Norfolk 
that  the  king  had  marked  him  out 
for  the  first  dignities  in  the  English 
church,  but  previously  expected  from 
him  a  faithful  explanation  of  his 
opinion  concerning  the  divorce.  Pole 
frankly  owned  that  he  condemned  it, 
but,  by  the  advice  of  the  duke,  re- 
quested the  respite  of  a  month,  that 
he  might  have  leisure  to  study  the 
question.  After  many  debates  with 
his  brothers  and  kinsmen,  and  a  long 
struggle  with  himself,  he  fancied  that 
he  had  discovered  an  expedient,  by 
which,  without  wounding  his  con- 
science, he  might  satisfy  his  sovereign. 
His  conversion  was  announced  to 
Henry,  who  received  him  most 
graciously  in  the  gallery  of  White- 
hall; but  that  moment  Pole  began 
to  hesitate ;  he  deemed  it  a  crime  to 
dissemble,  and,  in  a  faltering  voice, 


Le  Grand,  iii.  531.         »  Hall,  196-199. 


3  Hall,  200.    Herb.  364. 


A.D.  1531.]        CATHERINE'S  LETTER  TO  CLEMENT. 


275 


ventured  to  disclose  his  real  senti- 
ments. The  king  heard  him  with 
looks  and  gestures  of  anger,  inter- 
rupted his  discourse  with  a  volley  of 
reproaches,  and,  turning  on  his  heel, 
left  him  in  tears.  At  his  departure 
he  was  assailed  with  the  remonstrances 
of  Lord  Montague  and  his  other 
brothers,  who  complained  that  by  his 
obstinacy  he  had  ruined  not  only 
himself  but  also  them.  Moved  by 
their  complaints,  he  wrote  to  the 
king,  lamenting  his  misfortune  in 
dissenting  from  the  opinion  of  his 
benefactor,  and  detailing  with  modesty 
the  motives  of  his  conduct.  It  was 
now  thought  that  nothing  could  save 
him  from  the  royal  displeasure ;  Lord 
Montague  waited  on  the  king  to  de- 
plore the  infatuation  of  his  brother ; 
but  Henry  replied,  "My  lord,  I  cannot 
be  offended  with  so  dutiful  and  affec- 
tionate a  letter.  I  love  him  in  spite 
of  his  obstinacy ;  and,  were  he  but  of 
my  opinion  on  this  subject,  I  would 
love  him  better  than  any  man  in  my 
kingdom."1  Instead  of  withdrawing 
his  pension  of  five  hundred  crowns, 
he  allowed  him  again  to  leave  Eng- 
land, and  to  prosecute  his  studies 
abroad.  The  see  of  York  was  given 
to  Lee,  who  had  accompanied  the 
carl  of  Wiltshire  to  Bologna ;  that  of 
Winchester  to  Gardiner,  whose  pros- 
pect of  monopolizing  the  royal  favour 
had  been  clouded  by  the  growing 
influence  of  Cromwell.  The  new 
prelates,  however,  did  not  conceive 
that  the  recognition  of  the  king's 
supremacy  had  enabled  him  to  confer 
episcopal  jurisdiction.  They  solicited 
institution  from  the  pontiff;  and 
Henry,  as  soon  as  the  papal  bulls 


arrived,  issued  the  customary  writs 
for  the  delivery  of  their  temporali- 
ties.2 

By  this  time  the  imperialists  had 
acquired  «*  decided  superiority  at 
Borne;  but  their  progress  was  checked 
by  the  obstacles  which  Clement's  se- 
cret partiality  for  the  king  of  England 
repeatedly  threw  in  their  way.  They 
prayed  judgment  against  him,  on  the 
ground  that  he  refused  to  plead ;  the 
pontiff,  to  elude  the  demand,  requested 
Henry  to  appoint  an  agent  with  the 
office  of  excusator,  who  might  show 
cause  for  his  absence.  The  king  con- 
sented ;  but  not  till  he  had  proposed 
two  questions  to  the  university  of 
Orleans,  the  faculty  of  law  at  Paris, 
and  the  principal  advocates  in  the 
parliament  of  that  capital,  who  re- 
plied,—!. That  he  was  not  obliged  to 
appear  at  Rome,  either  in  person  or 
by  his  attorney,  but  that  the  cause 
ought  to  be  heard  in  a  safe  place  be- 
fore delegates  unobjectionable  to  either 
party ;  2.  That  it  was  not  necessary  to 
furnish  the  excusator  with  powers  for 
the  performance  of  his  office,  because 
it  was  a  duty  which  every  subject 
owed  to  his  sovereign,  in  the  same 
manner  as  a  child  to  his  parent.3  Sir 
Edward  Carne  was  now  sent,  but 
with  verbal  instructions,  and  without 
powers  in  writing.  If  Clement  was 
mortified  with  this  omission,  he  was 
still  more  distressed  when  he  received 
a  letter  from  Catherine,  announcing 
her  formal  expulsion  from  court,  and 
praying  the  pontiff  no  longer  to  refuse 
her  justice.  In  the  most  forcible  but 
affectionate  terms  he  wrote  to  the  king, 
and  painted  the  infamy  which  by  his 
late  conduct  he  had  stamped  on  his 


1  See  Pole,  Pro  Ecclea.  Unit.  Defen.  fol. 
xxviii.  Apolog.  ad  Angliae  Parliam.  Epis- 
tolarum,  torn.  i.  p.  182.  Ep.  ad  Edward.  Reg. 
iii.327 — 332.  Henry  communicated  this  letter 
to  Cranmer,  who  had  now  returned  to 
England,  and  joined  the  Boleyn  family  at 
court.  He  gives  the  following  account  of 
it  to  his  patron  the  earl  of  Wiltshire.  "  He 
hath  wrytten  wyth  such  wytte  that  it  ap- 
pereth  that  he  myght  be  for  hys  wysedome 


of  the  cownsel  to  the  kynge  hys  grace ;  and 
of  such  eloquence,  that  if  it  were  set  forth 
and  knowne  to  the  common  people,  I  sup- 
pose it  were  not  possible  to  persuade  them 
to  the  contrary.  The  kynge  and  my  lady 
Anne  rode  yesterday  to  Windsowef,  and 
this  nyght  they  be  looked  for  agayne  at 
at  Hampton  Courte.  God  be  their  guyde." 
June  xiii. — Strype's  Cranmer,  App.  No.  i. 
2  Rym.  xiv.  423, 429.  3  Rym.  xiv.416— 428, 
T  2 


276 


HENRY  VIII. 


("CHAP.  vin. 


own  character.  He  had  married  a 
princess  of  distinguished  virtue,  and 
allied  in  blood  to  the  first  sovereign 
in  Europe ;  and  now,  after  the  lapse 
of  more  than  twenty  years,  he  had 
ignominiously  driven  her  from  his 
court,  to  introduce  in  her  place 
another  woman  with  whom  he  pub- 
ncly  cohabited,  and  to  whom  he 
transferred  the  conjugal  affection  due 
to  his  wife.  Let  him  recall  his  queen, 
and  dismiss  her  rival.  It  was  what 
he  owed  to  himself;  but  Clement 
would  receive  it  as  a  favour,  the 
most  signal  favour,  which  Henry 
had  ever  conferred  on  the  Apostolic 
See.1 

But  the  time  was  past  when  the 
king  sought  to  conciliate ;  his  present 
object  was  intimidation,  and  with 
that  purpose  he  had  assembled  the 
parliament.  In  a  former  volume  I 
have  noticed  the  origin  of  the  annates 
or  first-fruits,  which  were  paid  to  the 
Roman  see  from  most  nations  in 
Europe,  and  formed  the  chief  fund 
for  the  support  of  the  cardinals  in 
attendance  on  the  pontiff.  An  act 
was  passed  for  the  abolition  of  this 
ecclesiastical  impost.  In  the  pream- 
ble it  was  stated  that  the  annates  had 
been  originally  established  for  the  de- 
fence of  Christendom  against  the  infi- 
dels ;  that  they  had  been  insensibly 
augmented,  till  they  became  a  con- 
stant drain  on  the  wealth  of  the 
nation  ;2  and  that  it  was  necessary  to 
provide  an  immediate  remedy  before 
the  decease  of  the  present  bishops,  of 
whom  many  were  far  advanced  in 
years;  it  was  therefore  enacted,  that 
if  any  prelate  hereafter  should  pre- 
sume to  pay  first-fruits  to  the  see 
of  Home,  he  should  forfeit  his  person- 
alities to  the  king,  and  the  profits  of 
his  see  as  long  as  he  held  it ;  that  if, 


in  consequence  of  the  omission,  the 
necessary  bulls  were  refused,  he  should 
nevertheless  be  consecrated  by  the 
archbishop,  or  two  other  bishops,  as 
was  usual  ir.  ancient  times ;  and  that 
if  on  such  account,  any  censures  or 
interdicts  were  issued  by  the  pope, 
they  should  be  utterly  disregarded. 
It  was  not,  however,  that  Henry 
sought  to  save  the  money,  for  ho 
would  eagerly  have  purchased  the 
divorce  with  more  costly  sacrifices; 
nor  that  he  wished  to  proceed  to  an 
open  rupture  with  the  court  of  Home, 
for  he  still  held  out  hopes  of  a  recon- 
ciliation. But  his  real  object  was  to 
influence  the  resolves  of  the  pontiff  by 
considerations  of  interest.  Hence  the 
rigour  of  the  act  was  mitigated  by  the 
following  provisions :  1.  That  for  the 
expediting  of  his  bulls,  each  bishop 
might  lawfully  pay  fees  after  the  rate 
of  five  per  cent,  on  the  amount  of  his 
yearly  income ;  and  2.  That  (in  order 
to  come  to  an  amicable  composition 
with  the  pope)  it  should  be  at  the 
option  of  the  king  to  suspend  or 
modify,  to  annul  or  enforce,  the  pre- 
sent statute  by  his  letters  patent, 
which  in  this  instance  should  have 
the  force  of  law.3 

At  the  same  time  Cromwell  ven- 
tured to  proceed  a  step  further  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  plan  for  annexing 
to  the  crown  the  supreme  jurisdiction 
in  ecclesiastical  concerns.  An  address 
was  procured  from  the  house  of  com- 
mons, complaining  that  the  convoca- 
tions of  the  clergy,  without  consulting 
the  other  estates,  often  enacted  laws 
which  regarded  temporal  matters,  and 
which,  though  contrary  to  the  statutes 
of  the  realm,  were,  notwithstanding, 
enforced  by  spiritual  censures  and 
prosecutions  for  heresy.  This  address 
was  sent  by  Henry  to  the  convocation, 


i  Herbert,  360.  Le  Grand,  iii.  561.  The 
pontiff's  expressions  admit  nirt  of  a  doubt 
as  to  the  character  which  he  had  received  of 
Anne  Boleyn.  Loco  autem  ejus  quandam 
Annam  in  tuum  contubernium  et  coha- 
bitationem  recepisse,  eique  maritalem 


affectnm  uxori  tuae  debitum  exhibere. — 
Ibid. 

*  The  amount  was  estimated  at  4,OOOZ.  per 
ad  mm,  on  an  average  of  many  years. 

3  Rolls,  ccxxxiv.  Stat.  of  Realm,  iii, 
385-7. 


4..D.  1532. 


THE  CLEKGY  AND  CONSTITUTIONS. 


277 


and  was  followed  by  a  requisition  that 
the  clergy  should  promise  never  more 
to  enact,  publish,  or  enforce  their  con- 
stitutions without  the  royal  authority 
or  assent ;  and  that  they  should  sub- 
mit all  those  now  in  force  to  the 
consideration  of  a  committee  of 
thirty-two  members,  half  laymen 
and  half  clergymen,  to  be  chosen 
by  the  king,  and  to  have  the  power 
of  determining  what  constitutions 
ought  to  be  abolished,  and  what 
ought  to  be  retained.  Though  Gar- 
diner composed  an  eloquent  answer 
to  the  address ;  though  the  clergy 
maintained  that  they  had  received 
from  Christ  authority  to  make  such 
laws  as  were  necessary  for  the  govern- 
ment of  their  flocks  in  faith  and 
morals,  an  authority  admitted  by  all 
Christian  princes,  founded  in  Scrip- 
ture, and  "  defended  with  most  vehe- 
ment and  expugnable  reasons  and 
authorities  by  his  majesty  himself  in 
his  most  excellent  book  against  Lu- 
ther ;"  though  they  consented  to  pro- 
mise that  in  consideration  of  his  zeal 
and  wisdom  they  would  never  make 
any  new  constitutions  during  his 
reign  without  his  assent,  and  were 
willing  to  submit  the  consideration  of 
the  old  constitutions  to  the  judgment 
of  his  grace  alone,  the  king  was  inex- 
orable ;  and  after  many  discussions,  a 
form  of  submission,  which  he  con- 
sented to  accept,  was  carried  by  large 
majorities.  The  clause  limiting  the 
promise  to  the  duration  of  the  present 
reign  was  rejected,  but  the  king  was 
added  to  the  committee,  and  the 
assent  of  the  clergy  was  said  to  be 
grounded  on  their  knowledge  of  his 
superior  learning  and  piety.1 

These  proceedings,  so  hostile  to  the 
authority  of  the  clergy  and  the  in- 
terests of  the  pontiff,  were  imme- 
diately communicated  to  Carne  at 


Rome.  He  had  demanded  to  be 
admitted  as  excusator,  and  was  op- 
posed by  the  imperialists;  the  argu- 
ments of  counsel  were  heard  on  both 
sides;  and  Clement,  having  spun  out 
the  discussion  for  some  months,  pro- 
nounced against  the  claim,  and  sum- 
moned the  king  to  proceed  with  the 
ause  in  November.  When  the  day 
came,  Carne  protested  against  tho 
summons ;  but  the  pontiff  rejected  the 
protest,  and  requested  Henry  to 
appear  by  his  attorney ;  in  which  case 
delegates  might  be  appointed  to  take 
informations  iu  England,  though  the 
final  judgment  must  be  reserved  to 
the  Roman  see.  At  the  same  time 
he  signed  a  breve,  complaining  that, 
in  defiance  of  public  decency,  the 
king  continued  to  cohabit  with  his 
mistress,  declaring  both  of  them 
excommunicated,  unless  they  should 
separate  within  a  month  after  the 
receipt  of  the  present  letter ;  and,  in 
case  they  should  presume  to  marry, 
pronouncing  such  marriage  invalid, 
and  confirming  his  former  prohibition 
against  it.-  It  seems,  however,  that 
for  some  reason,  which  is  unknown, 
the  publication  of  this  breye  was 
suspended. 

During  the  summer,  Henry  had 
renewed  his  former  treaties  with 
France,  and,  in  addition,  had  con- 
cluded a  defensive  alliance  against  any 
subsequent  aggression  on  the  part  of 
the  emperor.3  He  had  frequently 
solicited  an  interview  with  Francis ; 
he  now  repeated  his  request  in  so 
urgent  a  manner,  that  the  French 
king,  though  with  considerable  reluc- 
tance, acquiesced.  But  Anne  Boleyn 
also  sought  to  be  of  the  party ;  and 
the  ambassador  was  secretly  employed 
to  procure  for  her  an  invitation  from 
Francis,  who  on  his  part  might  be 
accompanied  by  the  queen  of  Na- 


1  Hence  I  have  no  doubt  that  they  meant 
to  contend  afterwards  that  it  was  a  personal 
grant,  limited  to  him,  and  not  inheritable 
ty  his  successors.— Wilk.  Con.  iii.  713,  et  seq. 


2  Burnet,   i.  Kecorda,   a.   Ill— IIS). 
Grand,  i.  223— 230;  'ii.  558— 568. 

3  Kym.  xiv.  434. 


La 


2/S 


HENEY  VIII. 


[CHAP. 


varre.  Whether  he  succeeded  is  very 
uncertain;1  at  the  appointed  time 
the  two  kings  repaired,  the  one  to 
Calais,  the  other  to  Boulogne.  As 
Henry  had  requested  the  meeting,  he 
paid  the  first  visit ;  and  at  the  end 
of  four  days  Francis  returned  with 
him  to  Calais,  where  he  remained  the 
same  time.  On  the  Sunday  evening, 
after  supper,  the  door  was  suddenly 
thrown  open ;  twelve  persons  in 
masks  and  female  dresses  entered  the 
room,  and  each  singled  out  a  gentle- 
man to  dance.  Henry  after  some  time 
took  off  the  vizors  of  the  maskers, 
and  it  appeared  that  Francis  had 
danced  with  Anne  Boleyn.  He  con- 
versed with  her  for  some  minutes 
apart,  and  the  next  morning  sent  her 
as  a  present  a  jewel  valued  at  fifteen 
thousand  crowns.2 

Curiosity  was  alive  to  discover  the 
object  of  this  meeting ;  but,  while  the 
royal  attendants  were  amused  with 
reports  of  a  confederacy  against  the 
Turks,  the  two  princes  communicated 
to  each  other  in  secret  the  real  or 
imaginary  wrongs  which  they  had 
suffered  from  the  pontiff,  and  con- 
certed measures  to  confine  within 
narrower  limits  the  pretensions  of  the 
Holy  See.  But  they  came  to  the 
discussion  with  far  different  feelings. 
The  irritation  of  Henry  sought  to  set 
at  defiance  ;the  papal  authority,  pro- 
vided he  could  secure  the  co-opera- 


tion of  his  ally ;  Francis  affected  an 
equal  parade  of  resentment,  but 
laboured,  while  he  concealed  his  ob- 
ject, to  effect  a  reconciliation  between 
his  friend  and  the  pope.  "When  the 
king  of  England  proposed  a  general 
council,  so  many  difficulties  were 
objected,  such  a  succession  of  delays, 
remonstrances,  and  discussions  was 
anticipated,  that  he  reluctantly  acqui- 
esced in  the  more  temperate  advice 
of  the  French  king,  to  invite  Clement 
to  meet  the  two  monarchs  at  Mar- 
seilles, where  they  might  settle  their 
existing  differences  in  an  amicable 
manner.  Henry  promised  that  he 
would  attend  in  person,  or  by  the 
first  nobleman  in  his  realm ;  and  that 
in  the  interval  he  would  abstain  from 
every  act  which  might  tend  to  widen 
the  breach  between  himself  and  the 
pope;  and  Francis  despatched  to 
Home  the  cardinals  of  Grand mont 
and  Tournon  to  arrange  the  prelimi- 
naries of  the  meeting,  wrote  a  letter 
to  Clement  protesting  against  the 
insult  which  he  had  offered  to  all 
crowned  heads,  by  citing  the  king  of 
England  out  of  his  dominions,  and 
insisted  that  the  cause  ought  to  be 
heard  and  decided  on  the  spot  by  dele- 
gates fully  authorized  to  determine 
without  appeal  or  procrastination. 
The  monarchs  separated  with  profes- 
sions of  mutual  esteem,  and  assurances 
of  the  most  lasting  attachment.3 


i  Le  Grand,  iii.  662.  In  this  letter  the 
bishop  of  Bayonne  details  the  high  favour 
in  which  he  is  with  Henry  and  Anne.  The 
former  spends  several  hours  with  him  every 
day,  and  discloses  to  him  all  his  secreta.  He 
accompanies  the  other  on  all  hunting  par- 
ties ;  has  received  from  her  a  present  of  a 
greyhound,  a  horn,  and  a  hunter's  jacket 
and  cap;  and  the  king  always  selects  for 
them  a  proper  station,  from  which  with 
their  cross-bows  they  shoot  the  deer  as  the}' 
run  by.  He  does  not  say  that  the  request 
to  be  present  at  the  meeting  was  made  by 
Anne,  but  intimates  as  much  by  adding  that 


he  is  under  oath  not  to  reveal  the  quarter 
from  which  it  comes.  Henry  wished  both 
monarchs  to  be  on  a  footing  of  equality, 
and  desired  that,  if  he  brought  Anne, 
Francis  should  bring  the  queen  of  Navarre ; 
for  he  would  not  meet  the  queen  of  France, 
the  emperor's  sister.  II  hait  cet  habille- 
merit  a  1'Espaignolle,  tant  qu'il  luy  sembla 
veoir  un  diable  (p.  656).  Francis,  however, 
did  not  comply  with  his  whim,  and  was  not 
accompanied  by  any  lady. 

2  Hall,  106-109.    Le  Grand,  i.  231. 

3  Le  Grand,  i.  223,  234 ;  iii.  676. 


APPENDIX. 


NOTE  H,  p.  90. 

The  Historic  of  the  Arrivall,  Sec. 


THE  contemporary  tract,  which  is 
mentioned  in  this  note  as  contained 
among  the  Harleian  MSS.  (543),  has 
lately  been  printed  for  the  Camden 
Society,  under  the  eye  of  Mr.  Bruce. 
It  bears  the  title  of  "  Historic  of  the 
arrivall  of  Edward  IV.  in  England, 
and  the  finall  recouvery  of  his  king- 
domes,  A.D.  MCCCCLXXI."  It 
was  apparently  written  immediately 
after  the  death  of  Heniy  VI.,  as  it 
ends  with  the  events  of  the  26th  of 
May ;  and,  we  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve, by  the  order  of  Edward  him- 
self ;  for  on  the  29th  of  the  same 
month  that  prince  sent  to  his  foreign 
friends  at  Bruges  (and  probably  at 
other  places  on  the  continent)  a  mes- 
senger with  an  account  of  his  success  ; 
which  account  appears  to  have  been 
this  very  "Historic,"  if  we  may  judge 
from  the  abridgment  of  it  still  pre- 
served with  the  copy  of  the  king's 
letter  in  the  public  library  at  Ghent. 
— See  Introduction,  vi.  vii.  Hence 
it  will  follow,  that  this  tract  must  be 
of  high  authority  with  respect  to 
dates  and  places,  and  the  succession 
of  events,  but  that  it  must  be  also 
liable  to  great  suspicion  on  those 
particular  points  in  which  the  cha- 
racter of  the  king  is  deeply  concerned. 
We  cannot  expect  that  he  should 
proclaim  himself  a  perjurer  and  mur- 
derer ;  and  therefore  are  not  to  be 


surprised  if  we  find  in  it  no  mention 
of  the  oath  which  he  is  said  to  have 
taken  at  York,  or  of  the  part  which 
he  is  believed  to  have  acted  at  the 
death  of  Edward,  the  Lancastrian 
prince  of  Wales,  and  with  respect  to 
that  of  the  old  king,  Henry  VI. 

If  we  may  believe  Fabyan  (660) 
and  Polydore  (517),  at  York  Edward 
protested  upon  oath  that  he  had  no 
other  object  in  view  than  the  re- 
covery of  his  rightful  inheritance,  as 
son  of  the  late  duke  of  York.  Of 
this  oath  there  is  no  trace  in  "the 
Historic,"  but  it  records  his  "deter- 
mination that  he  and  all  those  of  his 
felowshipe  shuld  noyse  and  say 
openly,  where  so  evar  they  came, 
that  his  entent  and  purpos  was  only 
to  claime  to  be  duke  of  Yorke,  and 
to  have  and  enjoy  th'  inheritaunce 
that  he  was  borne  unto  by  the  right 
of  the  full  noble  prince  his  fathar, 
and  none  other"  (p.  4).  At  three 
miles  from  York  the  recorder  met 
him,  "  and  tolde  him  that  it  was  not 
good  for  him  to  come  to  the  citie, 
for  eyther  he  shuld  not  be  suffred  to 
enter,  or  els,  in  caas  he  enteryd,  lie 
was  lost  and  undone  with  all  hia" 
(p.  5).  "  Within  a  while  Kobart  Clif- 
ford and  Richard  Burghe  gave  him 
and  his  feloshipe  bettar  comfort, 
affirmyng  that  in  the  qwarel  afore- 
sayde  of  his  father  the  duke  of  Yorke, 


APPENDIX. 


he  shuld  be  receyvyd  and  sufferyd  to 
passe." — Ibid.  At  length  he  arrived 
at  the  gates  of  the  city,  and  whilst 
iiis  army  remained  without,  was  suf- 
fered to  enter  "  with  xvi  or  xvii 
persons  in  the  leading  of  the  sayde 
Clifford  and  Bichard  Burghe,  and 
came  to  the  worshipfull  folks  which 
were  assembled  a  little  within  the 
gates,  and  shewed  them  th'  entent 
and  purpos  of  his  coining  in  such 
form  and  with  such  manor  langage 
that  the  people  contentyd  them  ther- 
withe,  and  so  receyvyd  him  and  all 
his  felawshipe." — Ibid.  The  next 
day  he  left  the  city.  It  appears  to 
me  that  this  very  narrative,  in  other 
points  confirmative  of  Polydore's  nar- 
rative, is  also  confirmative  of  it  in 
this,  that,  to  content  the  worshipful 
folks  of  York,  Edward  was  compelled 
to  take  the  oath  before  mentioned. 

At  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury  Ed- 
ward was  opposed  to  that  portion 
of  the  Lancastrian  force  which  was 
commanded  by  Prince  Edward.  He 
put  the  young  man  and  his  followers 
to  flight,  and  pursued  the  fugitives 
with  great  ardour.  "  In  the  wyn- 
nynge  of  the  fielde  such  as  abode 
hand-stroks  were  slayne  incontinent, 
Edward,  called  prince,  was  taken 
fleinge  to  the  towne  wards,  and 
slayne  in  the  fielde"  (30).  Hence 
it  appears  that  the  young  prince  did 


not  abide  hand-strokes,  but  was  taken 
in  his  flight,  and  then  slain.  But  by 
whose  orders?  "The  Historic"  ia 
silent.  The  chroniclers  tell  us  that 
the  captors  took  him  to  Edward,  who 
asked  him  questions,  and  that  he  was 
then  slain  in  his  presence  by  his 
brothers,  or  their  attendants.  That 
he  was  taken  to  Edward  is  highly 
probable,  for,  as  the  king  was  in 
their  company,  the  captors  would  of 
course  present  their  prize  to  him  ; 
and  the  authors  of  the  murder  are 
significantly  intimated  by  the  best 
authority,  the  Croyland  continuator. 
Interfectis  de  parte  reginse  turn  in 
campo  turn  postea  ultricibus  quorum- 
dam  manibus  ipso  principe  Edwardo, 
unigenito  regis  Henrici,  victo  duce 
Somersetiae  comiteque  Devoniae,  ao 
aliis  dominis  omnibus  et  singulis 
memoratis. — Cont.  Croyl.  555.  Of 
the  persons  here  mentioned,  the  only 
one  slain  in  the  field,  in  campo,  was 
Prince  Edward,  all  the  others  were 
captives  ;  the  only  one  slain  ultri- 
cibus quonimdam  manibus  was  Prince 
Edward,  for  the  others  suffered  by 
the  hand  of  the  executioner  after 
judgment  in  the  co'irt  of  the  lord 
high  constable  and  the  earl  mar- 
shal. The  vengeful  persons  who 
embrued  their  hands  in  his  blood, 
must  have  been  some  of  the  royal 
brothers. 


NOTE  I,  p.  116. 


In  perusing  the  petition  presented 
•to  the  protector  at  Baynard's  Castle, 
the  attention  of  the  reader  will  pro- 
bably have  been  drawn  to  the  alleged 
precontract  of  marriage  between  Ed- 
ward and  Eleanor  Boteler.  I  shall 
make  a  few  observations  on  the  sub- 
ject in  the  present  note. 

1.  It  was  now  eighteen  years  since 
the  marriage  of  the  king  with  Eliza- 
beth Grey.  The  validity  of  that 
marriage  had  never  yet  been  dis- 


puted. The  children  by  it  had  been 
considered  as  legitimate  by  the  par- 
liament, the  nation,  and  foreign  sove- 
reigns. They  were  acknowledged 
heirs  to  their  father,  and  several  of 
them  had  been  contracted  to  princes 
of  the  first  houses  in  Europe. 

2.  If  any  marriage  had  previously 
taken  place,  which  would  have  an- 
nulled the  succeeding  marriage,  would 
it  not  have  been  discovered  and 
objected  by  those  who  opposed  the 


APPENDIX. 


231 


union  of  the  king  with  Elizabeth 
Grey  ;  by  tho  numerous  and  violent 
enemies  of  that  princess  and  her 
family  ;  and  by  Clarence  and  War- 
wick during  their  rebellion,  when  no 
one  had  any  reason  to  fear  the  resent- 
ment of  Edward  ?  If  they  had  heard 
of  it,  and  yet  did  not  allege  it,  the 
very  circumstance  is  a  proof  that 
they  knew  the  report  to  be  groundless. 

3.  The  time  when  it  was  at  last 
brought  forward  furnishes  a   strong 
presumption  against  it.     It  was  not 
till  both  the  parties  concerned  were 
laid   in  their  graves,  almost  twenty 
years  after  it  was  supposed  to  have 
taken  place,  and  for  the  avowed  pur- 
pose of  enabling  an  uncle  to  disinherit 
his  nephews. 

4.  There  is  no  proof  that  witnesses 
were    ever    examined,    or   that    any 
documents   were   produced   to   show 
the  existence  of  the  precontract  in 
question,    though   it   so    much    con- 
cerned Richard  for  his  own  security 
to  place  it  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt. 
The  only  authority  on  which  it  rests 
is  the  assertion  in  the  petition  pre- 
sented to  the  protector  at  Baynard's 
Castle,  an  authority  which  will  have 
little     weight     with     the     impartial 
reader.     That   petition   was   said  to 
have  been  composed  and  forwarded 
to  London  by  the  gentlemen  in  the 
north  ;  but   every  one  knew  that  it 
was  written  in  that  city  by  Dr.  Stil- 
lington,    bishop    of  Bath,   and    pre- 
sident  of   Richard's   council. — Cont. 
Croyl.  567.     Le  Evesque  de  B.  fist 
le    bill. — Year-book,     Hilary    term, 
1  Hen.  VII.   Rym.  xii.  189.     If  it 
be    said    that    it    was    approved    by 
Richard's  parliament   in  1484  (Rot. 
Parl.  vi.  240),  it  may  be  replied  that 
the  next  year  it  was  condemned  by 
another  parliament  "for  the  false  and 
seditious   imaginations  and  untruths 
thereof"  (ibid.  289),  and  pronounced 
by  the  judges  false,    slanderous,  and 
shameful. — Year-book,     ibid.       The 
only  contemporary   by   whom    it    is 
mentioned  treats  it  with  little  cere- 
mony  as   seditious   and  infamous. — 
Cont.  Croyl.  567. 


5.  Though  no  ancient  historian  ha« 
written  in  favour  of  the  alleged  pre- 
contract, it  has  been  warmly  main- 
tained by  two  modern  writers,  Wal- 
5ole    in    his    Historic    Doubts,   and 
Laing  in  a  dissertation  at  the  close 

f  Henry's  History  of  England.  I 
shall  briefly  notice  the  four  arguments 
which  they  have  adduced. 

6.  More    informs    us    that    after 
Edward  "had  between  them  twain 
ensured  Elizabeth,"  he  communicated 
the  matter  to  his  council ;  that  his 
mother,    to    prevent   the    marriage, 
objected  that  he  "  was  sure  to  Dame 
Elizabeth    Lucy,    and    her    husband 
before  God ;"   that  Lucy  was  sent 
for  and   examined   upon   oath  ;   and 
that,  "albeit  she  was  by  the  king's 
mother  and  many  other  put  in  good 
comfort  to   affirm  that  she  was   en- 
sured unto  the  king,  yet  when  she 
was  solemnly  sworn  to  say  the  truth, 
she  confessed  that  they  were   never 
ensured  ;  howbeit  his  grace  spoke  so 
loving  words     unto     her,    that    she 

rily  hoped  he  would  have  married 
her."— More,  59,  60.  It  is  difficult 
to  reconcile  this  story,  as  it  is  told  by 
More,  with  the  account  of  Edward's 
marriage  with  Elizabeth  Grey,  as  it 
is  given  by  all  other  writers.  Ac- 
cording to  them  it  was  clandestine, 
according  to  him  it  was  publicly 
solemnized.  But  what  is  there  in  it 
to  favour  the  precontract  of  marriage 
with  Eleanor  Boteler?  Laing  sup- 
poses that  More  has  wilfully  sub- 
stituted Elizabeth  Lucy  for  Eleanor 
Boteler,  that  the  objection  of  the 
king's  mother  was  good,  and  that 
the  lady  was  compelled  by  Edward 
to  give  false  evidence  as  to  the  con- 
tract between  them.  But  if  such 
suppositions  are  to  be  admitted, 
merely  because  they  are  convenient 
for  the  purpose  of  the  writer,  there 
is  an  end  to  all  faith  in  history. 

7.  We  are  then  led  to  the  testi- 
mony of  Commines,  who  informs  us 
that  Stillington  had  been  formerly  in 
favour  with  Edward,  had  incurred 
his  displeasure,  been  imprisoned,  and 
paid  a  large  sum  for  his  liberty. 


APPENDIX. 


This  prelate,  if  we  may  believe  him, 
declared  to  Richard  that  Edward  had 
formerly  contracted  marriage  with  a 
certain  lady  in  his  presence,  that  the 
contract  was  meant  only  to  deceive 
her,  and  that  he  had  concealed  its 
existence  for  twenty  years.  He  adds, 
that  to  reward  him,  Richard  pro- 
mised to  give  the  princess  Elizabeth, 
now  considered  as  a  bastard,  to  an 
illegitimate  son  of  the  bishop ;  but 
the  yjung  man  was  cast  on  the  coast 
of  Normandy,  carried  to  the  chatelet 
at  Paris,  and  by  some  mistake  starved 
to  death.— Com.  Ivi.  c.  ix.  Those 
who  have  perused  the  foreign  writers 
of  these  ages  know  how  little  they 
are  to  be  credited  when  they  write  of 
English  affairs ;  but  admitting  the 
whole  of  this  account,  it  will  go  but  a 
short  way  towards  the  proof  of  the 
marriage.  We  knew  before  that 
Stillington  composed  the  petition  ; 
we  now  know  that  he  also  suggested 
its  contents.  Whether  those  con- 
tents were  true  or  false,  Commines 
does  not  hazard  a  conjecture.  Laing 
supposes  that  Edward  imprisoned  the 
bishop,  to  extort  from  him  the  con- 
tract, or  to  punish  him  for  disclosing 
the  secret.  But  neither  hypothesis 
can  stand.  The  historian  assures  us 
that  Stillington  kept  the  secret  till 
Edward's  death  ;  and  the  idea  of  ex- 
torting from  him  the  contract  arises 
from  a  mistake  as  to  the  meaning  of 
the  words,  "avoit  faits  la  promesse 
eutre  les  mains  du  dit  eVesque;" 
which  allude  to  the  manner  in  which 
such  verbal  promises  were  received, 
not  to  any  written  contract  deposited 
in  the  hands  of  the  bishop,  as  Laing 
translates  it.  The  true  reason  of 
Stillington's  disgrace  (we  have  no 
knowledge  of  his  imprisonment)  may 
be  found  in  Rymer,  xii.  66.  Soon 
after  the  attainder  of  Clarence,  he 
was  acciised  of  having  violated  his 
oath  of  allegiance,  probably  by  having 
associated  with  Clarence.  He  re- 
paired to  a  great  council  of  lords  and 
prelates,  proved  his  innocence  to 
their  satisfaction,  was  declared  a 
ioyal  subject,  and  afterwards  em- 


ployed in  several  offices  of  great  trust 
and  importance. 

8.  Sir  Thomas  More's  history  ter- 
minates abruptly  in  the  midst  of  a 
conversation  between  the  duke  of 
Buckingham  and  the  bishop  of  Ely. 
Hall  continues  that  conversation, 
without  informing  us  where  he  ob- 
tained it  ;  and  makes  the  duke  say, 
"Richard  brought  in"  (to  the  lords, 
forming  his  private  council)  "instru- 
ments, authentic  doctors,  proctors, 
notaries  of  the  law,  with  depositions  of 
divers  witnesses,  testifying  Edward's 
children  to  be  bastards  ;  which  depo- 
sitions I  then  thought  to  be  as  true 
as  now  I  know  them  to  be  false  and 
feigned,  and  testified  by  witnesses  with 
rewards  untruly  suborned." — Hall,  f. 
33.  Hence  Laing  argues  that  proof 
of  the  precontract  was  produced  to 
the  council.  But  it  may  be  replied, 
that  these  depositions  were  never 
judicially  examined ;  that  they  are 
pronounced  false,  and  purchased  with 
money  by  the  very  authority  here 
cited ;  and  lastly,  that  the  whole 
speech  is  a  mere  fiction.  For  the 
duke  is  made  to  say  that  Richard 
refused  to  restore  to  him  the  Here- 
ford estate  of  which  he  had  been 
deprived  by  Edward,  though  the 
truth  is  that  Richard  actually  re- 
stored it  to  him  (Dugd.  Bar.  i.  168, 
169;  ii.  248);  and  if  we  may  believe 
More  himself,  did  not  uncourteously 
refuse  any  one  of  his  petitions. — 
More,  70. 

9.  When  Henry  VII.  had  married 
Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Edward, 
the  act  which  bastardized  the  chil- 
dren of  that  prince  was  repealed. 
It  had  been  customary  on  such  occa- 
sions to  rehearse  the  whole  of  the 
act,  or  to  particularize  its  object, 
both  of  which  were  now  by  the  advice 
of  the  judges  omitted,  and  in  their 
place  the  first  words  were  inserted  as 
sufficient  to  point  out  what  individual 
act  was  repealed.  A  motion  at  the 
same  time  was  made  to  call  Stil- 
lington before  the  parliament,  but 
was  opposed  by  the  king.  Hence 
Laing  infers  that  Henry  was  satisfied 


APPENDIX. 


the  legitimacy  of  his  wife  would  not 
bear  investigation.  But  a  complete 
answer  may  be  given.  The  judges 
declared  that  their  object  was  to  pre- 
vent so  false  and  shameful  a  calumny 
from  appearing  on  the  Rolls  of  par- 
liament (Year-book,  Hilary  term, 
1  Henry  VII.);  and  the  king  replied, 


that  as  he  had  already  granted  a  par- 
don to  Stillington,  he  could  not  prose- 
cute him  for  the  offence. — More,  73. 

10.  On  the  whole,  it  appears  to 
me  evident  that  Elizabeth  was  the 
real  wife  of  Edward,  and  that  the 
precontract  was  a  fiction  invented  to 
justify  Richard's  usurpation. 


NOTE  K,  p.  119. 


I  purpose  in  this  note  to  examine 
the  arguments  which  have  been 
employed  to  clear  the  memory  of 
Richard  from  the  imputation  of  having 
murdered  his  nephews. 

1.  It  would  be  difficult  to  name  a 
writer  more  deserving  of  credit  than 
the  Croyland  historian,  who  com- 
posed Ms  narrative  in  the  month  of 
April  following  the  death  of  Richard. 
He  tells  us  that  a  widely  extended 
confederacy  had  been  formed  to  libe- 
rate the  two  princes  from  the  Tower, 
and  that  the  rising  was  on  the  point 
of  taking  place,  when  it  was  made 
public  that  both  of  them  had 
perished. — Cont.  Cioyl.  568.  It  has 
been  said  that  this  was  a  mere  report 
raised  by  the  conspirators  themselves, 
and  that  the  writer  gives  no  opinion 
as  to  its  truth.  But,  1.  It  could  not 
have  been  raised  by  the  conspirators, 
because  it  compelled  them  to  defer 
their  intended  insurrection,  and  to 
look  out  for  some  other  chief. — Ibid. 
And,  2.  The  writer  proceeds  with 
his  narrative  as  if  he  believed  the 
princes  to  be  dead,  and  makes  use  of 
expressions  which  he  would  not  have 
used  if  he  had  entertained  any  doubt 
of  their  murder.  He  says  that  it  is 
not  known  by  what  particular  kind 
of  violent  death  they  perished  (quo 
genere  violent!  interitus  ignoratur, 
— ibid.) ;  that  their  cause  had  been 
avenged  in  the  battle  of  Bosworth 
Field  (quorum  causa  hoc  bello  potis- 
sime  viudicata  est,  p.  575) ;  and  that 
Richard,  not  content  with  obtaining 
'.he  treasures  of  Edward,  destroyed 


his  children.  Ample  divitiarum  Ed- 
wardi  cumulo  non  contentus,  oppressit 
proles. — Ibid.  I  conceive  that  after 
the  use  of  such  expressions  there  can 
remain  no  doubt  of  the  opinion  enter- 
tained by  that  writer. 

2.  The  same  conviction  appears  to 
have  been  common  to  all  those  per- 
sons who  were  the  most  interested  in 
ascertaining  the  truth.  1.  The  duke 
of  Buckingham  and  the  gentlemen  of 
the  southern  counties,  after  the  pub- 
lication of  the  death  of  the  princes, 
saw  that  there  was  no  safety  for 
themselves,  unless  they  could  raise 
up  a  new  competitor  for  the  throne, 
and  therefore  offered  it  to  the  earl 
of  Richmond,  on  condition  he  would 
marry  the  princess  Elizabeth,  the  next 
heir  of  the  family  of  York. — Cont. 
Croyl.  568.  Can  we  believe  that  they 
would  have  acted  in  this  manner  on 
the  credit  of  a  mere  report,  the  truth 
of  which  at  that  moment  they  would 
naturally  suspect  !  Must  they  not 
have  inquired  into  the  matter,  and 
have  been  convinced  that  the  young 
Edward  and  his  brother  were  dead, 
before  they  would  offer  the  crown  to 
an  illegitimate  branch  of  a  rival 

family  ? 2.  Richard,  to  defeat  the 

plan,  made  the  strongest  efforts  to 
prevail  on  Elizabeth,  the  widow  of 
Edward,  to  quit  the  sanctuary  with 
her  dauijhioia  ;  but  he  did  not  suc- 
ceed till  he  had  sworn  before  the 
peers  and  prelates,  mayor  and  alder- 
men, that  the  lives  of  these  daughters 
should  be  in  no  danger.  Why  did 
Elizabeth  require  such  an  oath  1 


2S4 


APPENDIX. 


Undoubtedly  she  believed  that  the 
king  had  already  destroyed  her  sons, 
and  feared  a  similar  fate  for  her 

daughters.  —  Buck,     p.     528. 3. 

Richard,  even  before  his  wife  died, 
proposed  to  marry  the  princess  Eliza- 
beth. And  the  reason  was,  because 
he  saw  that  he  could  not  otherwise 
secure  the  throne  to  himself,  or  cut 
off  the  hopes  of  his  rival  (Non  aliter 
videbat  regnum  sibi  confirniari,  neque 
spem  competitoris  sui  auferri  posss). 
— Cont.  Croyl.  572.  This  could  only 
be  true  in  case  that  the  princes  were 
dead,  and  that  Elizabeth  was  the 
heir  to  the  crown. 

3.  Rouse,  who  died  in  1491,  openly 
asserts  that  the  princes  were  slain, 
but  so  privately  that  few  knew   in 
what  manner.     Edwardum  cum  am- 
plexibus  et  osculis   recepit,  et  infra 
circiter  duo  menses  vel  parum  ultra 

cum  fratre  suo  interfecit ita  quod 

ex  post    paucissimis  notum  fuit  qua 
morte   martyrizati  sunt. — Ross,  214, 
215. 

4.  Andre,    the    contemporary  his- 
toriographer  of   Henry  VII.,    says 
that  Richard  ordered  the  princes  to 
to  be  put  to  the  sword  (ferro  feriri 
jussit).— MS.  Domit.  A.  XVIII. 

5.  Sir  Thomas  More,  who  wrote 
soon  after,  in  1513,  not  only  asserts 
that  they  were  murdered,  but  gives 
the  particulars  of  the  murder  from 
the  confession  of  the  assassins  them- 
selves.    The  reader  has  seen  his  ac- 
count in  the  preceding  pages. 

6.  In  July,   1674,  in  consequence 
of  an  order  to  clear  the  White  Tower 
from  all  contiguous  buildings,  as  the 
workmen  were  "  digging  down   the 
stairs  which  led  from  the  king's  lodg- 
ings to  the  chapel  in  the  said  Tower, 
about  ten  feet  in  the  ground,  were 
found  the  bones  of  two  striplings  in 
(as  it  seemed)  a  wooden  chest,  which 
upon  the  survey  were  found  propor- 
tionable to  the  ages  of  the  two  bro- 
thers, viz.  about  thirteen  and  eleven 
years. "     On  inquiry  it  was  concluded 
that  they  were  the  bones  of  the  mur- 
dered princes,    and  in   consequence, 
after  they  had  been  sifted  from  the 


rubbish,  they  were  honourably  in- 
terred in  the  chapel  of  Henry  VII. 
in  Westminster.— Sandford,  427,  429. 
This  has  been  considered  as  a  strong 
confirmation  of  the  murder  ;  since 
we  know  of  no  other  two  boys  who 
perished  in  the  Tower;  and  are  in- 
formed by  More  that  a  priest  removed 
their  bodies  from  the  place  where  they 
had  been  deposited  by  the  assassins  to 
another  spot ;  and  that,  as  he  died  soon 
afterwards,  his  secret  perished  with 
him. — More,  68.  From  the  words  of 
More  it  may  be  inferred  that  inef- 
fectual attempts  had  been  made  to 
discover  it. 

7.  It  furnishes  a  strong  presump- 
tion in  favour  of  More's  narrative, 
that  all  the  persons  mentioned  by  him 
as  concerned  in  the  murder  became 
objects  of  the  king's  bounty.  To 
Greene,  the  messenger,  was  given 
the  office  of  receiver  of  the  lordships 
of  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  of  Porchester 
Castle  ;  and  the  numerous  grants  of 
money  and  lands  and  lucrative  offices 
to  Tyrrel  and  Brakenbury  may  be 
seen  in  the  notes  by  Strype  to  Buck's 
history,  in  Kennet,  i.  551,  552.  Nor 
were  the  more  obscure  agents,  the 
actual  murderers,  Dighton  and  Fo- 
rest, neglected  by  the  gratitude  of 
their  patron.  The  first  was  made 
bailiff  for  life  of  the  manor  of  Aiton, 
in  Staffordshire  (ibid.)  ;  and,  as  Forest 
lived  but  a  few  months  in  possession 
of  the  office  given  to  him  in  Barnard 
Castle,  an  annuity  of  five  marks  was 
settled  on  his  widow  and  his  son. — 
Turner,  iii.  491.  This  coincidence 
must  appear  very  extraordinary,  if 
we  suppose  More's  account  to  be 
fabulous. 

8.  In  opposition  to  this  evidence 
it  has  been  observed,  that  even  in 
the  days  of  Henry  VIII.  it  was  con- 
sidered doubtful  whether  the  princes 
bad  been  murdered  or  not.  I  will 
therefore  transcribe  the  words  of 
More,  whence  it  will  appear  that 
such  doubts  were  not  very  common, 
nor  built  on  any  good  foundation. 
"  Whose  death  hath  nevertheless  so 
far  come  in  question,  that  some  re- 


APPENDIX. 


285 


main  yet  in  doubt,  whether  they  were 
in  his  days  destroyed  or  not.  Not 
for  that  only,  that  Perkin  Warbeck, 
by  many  folks'  malice,  and  more  folks' 
folly,  so  long  space  abusing  the  world, 
was,  as  well  with  princes  as  the  poorer 
people,  reputed  and  taken  for  the 
younger  of  these  two,  but  for  that 
also  that  all  things  were  in  late  days 
so  covertly  demeaned,  one  thing  pre- 
tended and  another  meant,  that  there 
was  nothing  so  plain  and  openly 
proved,  but  that  yet  for  the  common 
custom  of  close  and  covert  dealing 
men  had  it  ever  inwardly  suspect,  as 
many  well  counterfeited  jewels  make 

the  true  mistrusted But  I  shall 

rehearse  you  the  dolorous  end  of  those 
babes,  not  after  every  way  that  I  have 
heard,  but  after  that  way  I  have  heard 
so  by  such  men  and  by  such  means  as 
raethinketh  it  were  hard  but  it  should 
be  true."  He  then  gives  the  account, 
and  concludes:  "Thus  as  I  have 
learned  of  them,  that  much  knew  and 
little  cause  had  to  lie,  were  these  two 
noble  princes  privily  slain"  (pp.  67, 68). 
9.  It  is  however  contended  that 
More's  narrative  cannot  be  true. 
"A  singular,"  says  Laing,  "and,  for 
Richard's  memory,  a  providential  con- 
currence of  circumstances  enables  us 
to  ascertain  the  duration,  and  to  trace 
the  particular  stages  of  that  progress, 
in  the  course  of  which  the  supposed  de- 
struction of  his  nephews  was  planned 
and  accomplished.  He  was  at  West- 
minster on  Sunday,  the  31st  of  August, 
where  he  ratified  the  league  with  the 
king  of  Castile,  and  at  York  the  7th  of 
September,  the  day  preceding  his  se- 
cond coronation." — Laing,  420.  The 
writer  then  tells  us  that  Richard  was 
on  Monday  at  Windsor,  on  Tuesday 
at  Oxford,  on  Wednesday  at  Glouces- 
ter, on  Thursday  at  Warwick,  on  Fri- 
day at  Nottingham,  on  Saturday  at 
Po'utefract,  and  on  Sunday  at  York. 
Now  he  contends  that  if  More's  account 
be  true,  Greene,  the  messenger  sent 
to  tamper  with  Brakenbury,  the 
governor  of  the  Tower,  must  have 
left  the  king  on  his  journey  on  the 
Monday  or  Tuesday,  and  have  re- 


turned to  Richard  at  Warwick  on 
Thursday  with  the  account  of  his 
failure,  and  that  Tyrrel  must  have 
left  Warwick  on  Friday,  have  com- 
mitted the  murder  in  the  Tower  on 
Friday  night  or  Saturday  night,  and 
have  reached  the  king  previous  to  his 
arrival  at  York  on  Sunday  :  an  expe- 
dition which  it  is  impossible  to  believe. 
Hence  it  follows  that  the  whole  nar- 
rative is  false. — Laing,  420 — 423. 

Now  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that 
if  the  limits  assigned  to  the  progress 
of  Richard  by  his  advocates  be  cor- 
rect, it  is  impossible  to  crowd  within 
so  short  a  space  all  the  facts  men- 
tioned by  More.  But  are  those  limits 
correct?  It  is  certain  that  he  was 
crowned  with  his  queen  at  York, 
on  Sunday,  the  8th  of  September 
(Drake's  Eborac.  117  ;  Rouse,  217), 
after  having  created  his  son  prince 
of  Wales,  in  a  full  assembly  of  the 
nobility,  the  same  day. — Rym.  xii. 
200.  Hence  he  must  have  arrived 
at  York  the  day  before,  and  if  he  left 
London  only  on  the  first,  must  have 
performed  his  long  and  circuitous 
journey  in  seven  days.  But  is  it  then 
certain  that  he  was  at  Westminster 
on  the  31st  of  August  ?  for  on  the 
accuracy  of  that  date  depends  all  the 
reasoning  of  the  king's  advocates. 
The  only  proof  of  it  is,  that  two 
instruments  are  to  be  found  in  Ry- 
mer,  dated  August  31,  teste  rege 
apud  Westmonasterium. — Rym.  xii. 
198,  199.  But  such  instruments 
prove  nothing  more  than  that  the 
chancellor  was  at  Westminster.  The 
king  might  have  been  at  the  distance 
of  three  hundred  miles.  They  were 
said  to  be  issued  teste  rege,  because 
they  were  issued  from,  his  high  court 
of  Chancery.  Thus  we  know  that  at 
the  death  of  Edward  IV.  on  the  9th 
of  April,  1483,  his  son  Edward  V. 
was  at  Ludlow,  and  did  not  reach 
London  before  the  4th  of  May  fol- 
lowing, And  yet  on  the  23rd  cf 
April,  eleven  days  before  he  came 
near  Westminster,  thirty-three  writs 
were-  published  in  his  name,  dated  at 
Westminster,  teste  rege. — Rym.  xii. 


APPENDIX. 


79. ]  Hence  it  is  evident  that  the 
writs  in  question,  on  which  Carte, 
Walpole,  and  Laing  rest  their  prin- 
cipal argument,  prove  nothing  as  to 
the  presence  or  absence  of  Richard 
on  the  day  on  which  they  are  dated. 

It  is  however  easy  to  show  that 
he  was  on  that  day  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  York,  and  that  his  progress, 
instead  of  six  days,  occupied  a  whole 
month.  The  ancient  writers  mention 
that  he  set  out  shortly  after  his  coro- 
nation on  the  6th  of  July. — Cont. 
Croyl.  567.  Fab.  516.  He  went 
from  London  to  Windsor;  from 
Windsor  to  Oxford.  The  day  of  his 
arrival  is  not  specified  ;  but  he  re- 
ceived from  the  university  a  petition 
in  favour  of  the  bishop  of  Ely,  dated 
the  4th  of  August  (apud  Speed,  p. 
932),  whence  it  is  not  improbable 
that  he  was  there  at  that  time.  His 
next  stage  was  Woodstock,  where 
the  people  of  the  country  complained 
to  him  that  his  brother 'had  unjustly 
annexed  a  large  tract  of  land  to  the 
forest  of  Wichwood  :  and  on  inquiry 
he  granted  to  them  a  charter  of  dis- 
afforestation.  Thence  he  proceeded 
to  Gloucester ;  and  to  honour  a  city 
from  which  he  took  his  title  of  duke, 
he  appointed  there  a  mayor  and  she- 
riffs. The  two  next  stages  were 
Worcester  and  Warwick.  Here  he 
was  joined  by  the  queen  and  the 
Spanish  ambassadors,  who  came  di- 
rect from  Windsor,  and  kept  his 
court  for  a  whole  week,2  having  with 
him  five  bishops,  the  duke  of  Albany, 
four  earls,  five  barons,  the  chief  jus- 
tice of  the  King's  Bench,  and  other 
lords  and  knights,  and  a  great  num 
ber  of  noble  ladies  attending  on  the 
queen.  He  next  proceeded  to  Co- 
ventry, then  to  Leicester,  and  from 
Leicester  to  Nottingham,  where  he 
was  on  the  23rd  of  August :  for  we 
have  a  letter  written  there  on  that 
day  by  his  private  secretary,  announ- 


cing to  the  citizens  of  York  his  ap- 
proach to  that  city,  and  telling  them 
that  "the  king's  lords  and  judges 
were  with  him,  sitting  and  determin- 
"ng  the  complaints  of  poor  folks,  with 
due  punition  of  offenders  against  his 
"aws." — Drake,  116.  He  afterwards 
stopped  at  Pontefract,  where  he  ap- 
pointed a  mayor,  and  thence  pro- 
ceeded to  York. — See  this  progress 
n  Rouse,  216,  217.  From  York,  on 
the  31st  of  August,  he  despatched  an 
order  to  Piers  Courties,  keeper  of  the 
wardrobe,  to  send  to  that  city  his 
spurs,  banners,  coats  of  arms,  &c. 
which  might  be  wanted  against  his 
coronation. — Drake's  Eborac.  119  ; 
Buck,  527.  It  is  evident,  then,  that 
instead  of  leaving  London  on  Sept. 
1st,  to  be  crowned  in  York  Sept.  8th, 
he  was  the  whole  month  of  August 
on  his  journey,  and  reached  York 
before  the  day  on  which  he  has  been 
supposed  to  be  still  in  London.  It 
may  also  be  observed  that  this  account 
agrees  with  that  of  More.  He  de- 
spatched Greene  when  he  was  on  his 
way  to  Gloucester,  and  received 
Greene's  report  on  his  arrival  at 
Warwick.  Thence  he  sent  Tyrrel 
to  the  Tower,  and  the  murder  was 
committed  soon  after,  probably  during 
the  week  that  Tie  remained  at  War- 
wick, which,  from  the  date  of  his 
residence  at  Nottingham,  must  have 
been  about  the  middle  of  August ; 
the  time  assigned  by  Rouse,  who  says, 
the  young  king  was  murdered  some- 
thing more  than  three  months  after 
he  had  been  received  and  caressed  by 
his  uncle,  which  was  on  the  last  day 
of  April. — Rouse,  215. 

10.  Walpole  (pp.  70,  71)  transcribes 
ssage  from  the  roll  of  parliament 


of  1484,  to  prove  that  Edward  V. 
was  alive  when  that  parliament  was 
sitting,  and  consequently  could  not 
have  been  put  to  death  during 
Richard's  progress  to  York.  But  if 


1  In  former  editions  I  referred  to  another 
instance  from  the  reign  of  Richard  II.  But 
Mr.  Duffus  Hardy  (Introduc.  to  Close  Rolls 


xv.)  has  shown  that  Rymer,  on  whose  autho- 
rity I  relied,  had  mistaken   ' 


the  real  date. 


a  Of  this  circumstance,  so  important  in 
the  present  inquiry,  Rouse  could  not  be 
ignorant,  as  he  lived  at  the  same  time  at 
Guy's  Cliff,  only  four  miles  from  War- 
wick. 


APPENDIX. 


287 


he  had  paid  more  attention  to  the 
roll,  he  would  have  found  that  he  was 
copying  from  the  petition  presented 
to  the  protector  at  Baynard's  Castle, 
and  that  the  passage  in  question 
proved  only  that  Edward  was  alive 
at  the  time  when  his  uncle  usurped 
the  throne. — See  Hot.  Parl.  vi.  241. 

11.  Mr.  Bailey,  in  hia  History  of 
the  Tower  (p.   343),    notices  certain 
warrants  for  the  delivery  of  clothing, 
and  the  payment  of  provisions  for  the 
use  of  "  the  lord  bastard,  given  under 
our  signet  at  Westminster  the  IX  day 
of  March,  anno  secundo  :"  whence  he 
infers  that  one  of  the  royal  brothers, 
under  the  name  of  the  lord  bastard, 
was  living  a  year  and  a  half  after  the 
time  of  their  supposed  death.      But 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  lord 
bastard  mentioned  in   the  warrants 
was    Kichard's    own    son,    John    of 
Gloucester,  whom  he  made  two  days 
later  governor  of  Calais  for  life,  re- 
serving to  himself  the  exercise  of  the 
office  till  the  boy  should  come  of  age. 
— Kym.  xii.  265. 

12.  The  last  argument  I  shall  men- 
tion is  taken  from  Bacon's  History 
of  Henry  VII.,  p.   71.     He  tells  us, 
that   soon  after  the    appearance   of 
Perkin,  Tyrrel  and  Dighton  (Forest, 
the  other  murderer,  was  dead)  were 
committed  to  the  Tower,  and,  as  the 
king  gave  out,  both  agreed   in  the 
same  tale  :  that  nevertheless  Henry 


made  no  use  of  their  confessions  ;  that 
Tyrrel  was  soon  afterwards  beheaded 
for  other  matters  of  treason,  but 
Dighton,  who  it  seems  spake  best  for 
the  king,  was  set  at  liberty,  and  was 
the  principal  means  of  divulging  this 
tradition.  Now,  if  it  were  true  that 
Henry  examined  these  persons  at  the 
time  of  Perkin's  appearance,  and  yet 
did  not  use  their  evidence  to  prove 
that  he  was  not  the  duke  of  York, 
the  omission  would  certainly  justify  a 
suspicion  that  they  did  not  acknow- 
ledge the  murder.  The  real  feet  is, 
that  they  were  examined  only  a  short 
time  before  the  execution  of  Tyrrel, 
as  Bacon  himself  says  ;  but  that  exe- 
cution did  not  take  place,  as  he  sup- 
poses, soon  after  the  appearance  of 
Perkin,  but  at  the  distance  of  ten 
years,  in  1502,  for  having  favoured 
the  escape  of  the  earl  of  Suffolk.— 
Kot.  Parl.  vi.  545.  Of  course  Henry 
could  not  employ  their  confession  in 
any  of  his  declarations  against  Pei- 
kin,  which  were  published  long  before. 
This  is  also  plain  from  Sir  Thomas 
More's  history,  who  wrote  a  few  years 
afterwards.  "Very  truth  it  is,  and 
well  known,  that  at  such  time  as 
Sir  James  Tyrrel  was  in  the  Tower 
for  treason  committed  against  King 
Henry  VII.,  both  Dighton  and  he 
were  examined,  and  confessed  the 
murder  in  manner  above  written. " — 
More,  68. 


NOTE  L,  p.  157. 


The  pretensions  of  Warbeck  offer  a 
problem  which  has  been  thought  of 
difficult  solution.  Was  he  an  im- 
postor, or  was  he  the  real  duke  of 
York  !  Our  ancient  historians  have 
unanimously  adopted  the  former 
opinion  ;  but  their  authority  has  been 
set  aside  by  some  modern  writers, 
who  contend  that  under  the  dynasty 
of  the  Tudors  no  man  would  venture 
to  express  even  a  doubt  injurious  to 
the  cause  of  the  reigning  family. 


If  credit  be  due  to  Carte,  and  Wai- 
pole,  and  Laing,  Warbeck  was  the 
real  son  of  Edward  IV.,  and  the 
rightful  heir  to  the  throne. 

The  arguments  most  favourable  to 
the  claim  of  this  adventurer  are  drawn 
from  two  sources,  its  admission  by 
foreign  princes,  and  the  inability  of 
Henry  to  discover  his  real  origin  as 
an  impostor.  1.  He  was  acknow- 
ledged as  duke  of  York  by  Charles  of 
France,  by  James  of  Scotland,  and 


APPENDIX. 


by  Margaret  of  Burgundy.  If  it  be 
said  that  the  object  of  Charles  was 
to  distress  Henry,  James  at  least 
ought  to  have  been  convinced  of  the 
real  character  of  Warbeck  before  he 
would  give  to  him  his  kinswoman  in 
marriage  ;  and  the  conduct  of  Mar- 
garet, who  was  less  liable  to  be  de- 
ceived, must  prove  that  he  was  really 
her  nephew,  or  that  she  knowingly 
promoted  an  imposture.  But  in  the 
latter  supposition  what  could  be  her 
object  ?  Her  niece  was  queen  of 
England  ;  the  children  of  that  niece 
were  presumptive  heirs  to  the  crown. 
Would  she  attempt  to  disinherit  her 
own  family,  in  favour  of  an  obscure 
and  unknown  adventurer  ? 

2.  Henry,  with  all  his  arts  and  in- 
trigues, could  never  form  a  plausible 
account  of  the  origin  and  adventures 
of  Warbeck.  The  stories  circulated 
with  his  connivance  bear  evident 
marks  of  uncertainty  and  falsehood. 
There  were  two  methods  by  which 
he  might  have  successfully  detected 
the  imposture.  He  might  have  ascer- 
tained the  death  of  the  princes  in  the 
Tower  by  the  apprehension  and  exa- 
mination of  the  reputed  assassins ;  or 
aftor  the  surrender  of  Warbeck,  he 
might  have  confronted  him  with  his 
own  queen  and  her  sisters.  Their 
testimony  would  have  decided  the 
question.  If  then  he  adopted  neither 
of  these  measures,  it  is  an  argument 
that  he  dared  not.  He  must  have 
known  that  both  of  the  brothers  were 
not  put  to  death  by  their  uncle,  and 
that  the  younger  had  escaped,  and 
now  claimed  the  crown.  Such  are 
in  short  the  arguments  of  those  who 
maintain  the  cause  of  tho  adventurer. 

To  me,  however,  the  arguments 
against  the  identity  of  Warbeck  with 
Richard  duke  of  York,  appear  greatly 
to  preponderate.  1.  From  the  pre- 
ceding pages  it  has  been  seen  that 
the  death  of  the  two  princes  was 
believed  by  all  those  who  were  most 
interested  to  know  the  truth,  by  their 
mother  Elizabeth  and  their  uncle 
Richard,  by  the  partisans  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  and  those  of  the  house 


of  York,  and  even  by  Henry  himself, 
as  late  at  least  as  the  summer  of 
1487,  when  he  offered  to  marry  their 
mother  to  the  king  of  Scots,  and 
their  two  sisters  to  his  two  sons. 
Four  years  later  a  young  man  appears 
in  Ireland,  and  professes  to  be  the 
younger  of  the  two  princes,  who 
were  believed  to  be  dead.  Was  it  not 
incumbent  on  him  to  prove  his  pre- 
tensions, to  show  how  he  had  escaped 
from  the  murderers,  to  what  place  he 
had  been  conveyed,  and  where  and 
how  he  had  spent  the  eight  years 
which  had  elapsed  since  his  supposed 
death  ?  Yet  all  this  was  kept  a  pro- 
found secret.  Even  in  his  proclama- 
tion at  the  head  of  the  Scottish  army, 
when  it  was  so  much  for  his  interest 
that  the  English  should  be  convinced 
of  his  claim,  he  contents  himself  with 
asserting,  "that  in  his  tender  age  he 
had  escaped  by  God's  great  might 
out  of  the  Tower  of  London,  had 
been  secretly  conveyed  over  sea  to 
other  divers  countries,  and  had  re- 
mained there  certain  years  as  un- 
known." Does  not  this  meagre 
account,  in  circumstances  when  the 
clearest  proofs  were  required,  betray 
a  secret  consciousness  that  his  history 
would  not  bear  investigation  ? 

3.  His  assertions  seem  to  have  been 
generally  disbelieved  by  the  nation. 
The  persons  who  adhered  to  him  in 
France  were  most,  if  not  all  of  them, 
outlaws;  and  the  gentlemen  who 
were  attainted  on  his  account  in  Eng- 
land seem  to  have  suffered,  not  so 
much  for  having  admitted  his  pre- 
tensions, as  for  their  attempts  to 
ascertain  who  he  was,  which  Henry 
ascribed  to  a  treasonable  disaffection 
towards  himself.  After  that  period 
no  person  of  note  attached  himself  to 
the  pretender.  When  he  landed  on 
the  coast  of  Kent,  he  was  imme- 
diately repulsed  ;  when  he  entered 
England  successively  at  the  head  of  a 
Scottish  army,  and  was  in  a  condi- 
tion to  protect  his  friends,  not  an 
individual  repaired  to  his  standard  ; 
ar.d  when  he  afterwards  assumed  the 
command  of  the  Cornish  insurgents, 


APPENDIX. 


lie  did  not  debauch  a  sii  gle  gentle- 
man from  his  allegiance  to  Henry. 
It  is  not  credible  that  the  numerous 
partisans  of  the  house  of  York  would 
have  remained  quiet  on  all  these  occa- 
sions, unless  they  had  reason  to  bs- 
lieve  him  an  impostor. 

4.  This    is    strongly    corroborated 
by   the   conduct  of  Henry.     Would 
his  jealousy   have    spared    the    real 
duke  of  York,  when  he  had  him  once 
in  his  power  ?     Would  he  have  exhi- 
bited him  to  the  gaze  of  the   popu- 
lace on  the  road,  or  of  the  citizens  in 
London,  of  whom  many  could  have 
recognised  his  features  ?    Would   he 
have  suffered  him  to  roam  at  liberty 
through   the   palace  at   Westminster 
for  six  months,  exposed  to  the  daily 
view  of  the  queen,   her  sisters,  and 
the    principal    nobility  ]     After    his 
flight  and  recapture,   would  not  the 
king  have  gladly  employed  that  plau- 
sible pretext  to  free  himself  from  so 
dangerous  a   competitor  ?     Whoever 
compares  his  conduct  to  the   earl  of 
Warwick  with   his  conduct  to  War- 
beck,  will  be  convinced  that  as  he 
knew  the  former  to  be  a  real  Plan- 
tagenet,  so  he  believed  the  latter  to 
be  no  other  than  an  impostor. 

5.  But  how  are  we  to  account  for 
the  acknowledgment  of  his  claim  by 
foreign  powers  ?   It  may  be  observed, 
that  if  the  union  of  the  two  roses  by 
the  marriage  of  Henry  and  Elizabeth 
had  satisfied  many  of  the  Yorkists, 
there   still    existed   a    party  which, 
through  enmity  to  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster, sought  to  raise  to  the  throne 
the  young  earl  of  Warwick.     At  its 
head  was  the  duchess  of  Burgundy. 
She  first  patronised  the  imposture  of 
Siinnel,  afterwards  that  of  Warbeck.  If 
either  had  succeeded,  there  would  have 
been  little  difficulty  in  removing  the 


phantom  to  make  place  for  the  reality. 
The  conduct  of  Charles  VIII.  proves 
nothing  more  than  his  wish  to  distress 
and  intimidate  Henry.  He  had  pre- 
viously attempted  to  raise  the  friends 
of  Warwick  ;  when  that  failed,  War- 
beck,  probably  at  his  instigation,  soli- 
cited the  aid  of  the  Yorkists  in  Ire- 
land ;  and  on  their  refusal,  was 
invited  to  the  French  court  as  heir 
to  the  English  crown.  But  the  event 
proved  that  this  invitation  had  no 
other  object  than  to  induce  Henry  to 
sign  the  treaty.  From  the  moment 
that  was  accomplished,  Perkin  re- 
ceived no  countenance  from  the  king 
of  Franco.  With  respect  to  the  king 
of  Scotland,  there  seems  to  have  been 
much  also  of  policy  in  the  reception 
which  he  gave  to  the  adventurer.  It 
was  argued  that  if  Perkin  were  suc- 
cessful, he  could  refuse  nothing  to 
the  prince  who  had  placed  him  on 
the  throne ;  that  if  he  were  not, 
Henry  would  still  make  advantageous 
offers  to  James,  to  detach  him  from 
the  cause  of  his  rival.  On  this 
account,  says  Polydore,  the  king, 
whether  it  were  through  error  and  pity, 
or  only  through  dissimulation,  began  to 
show  him  great  honour,  &c.  (p.  590). 
The  consideration  of  these  circum- 
stances has  left  no  doubt  on  my  mind 
that  Warbeck  was  an  impostor.  He 
was  probably  brought  forward  to 
screen  the  young  earl  of  Warwick 
from  the  jealousy  of  Henry.  If  hw 
fell  in  the  attempt,  Warwick  was 
still  safe  ;  if  he  succeeded,  the  dis- 
closure of  the  secret  would  raise  that 
young  prince  to  the  throne.  This  at 
least  is  certain,  that  as  long  as  War- 
wick lived,  pretenders  to  the  crown 
rapidly  succeeded  each  other ;  after 
his  execution,  Henry  was  permitted 
to  reign  without  molestation. 


290 


APPENDIX 


NOTE  M,  p.  231. 


Peter  Martyr,  in  a  letter  dated 
May  2,  1510,  says  that  Ferdinand 
expected  to  hear  every  day  of  the 
birth  of  a  grandchild,  because  by  the 
last  account  from  England,  Catherine 
was  in  her  ninth  month  —  partui 
proximam  esse,  quia  nono  gravetur 
mense.  Yet  the  English  historians 
consider  Henry,  born  in  January, 
1511,  as  her  first  child.  That  prince 
lived  only  six  weeks.  Catherine  bore 
the  king  another  son  in  November, 
1513,  who  also  died  in  a  short  time. 


Mary  was  born  in  1515,  February 
8th.  Her  sponsors  at  baptism  were 
the  cardinal  of  York,  the  lady  Cathe- 
rine, daughter  of  Edward  IV.,  and 
the  duchess  of  Norfolk.  Her  style 
was  proclaimed  at  the  church  door 
by  the  officers  of  arms :  God  give 
good  life  and  long  unto  the  right 
high,  right  noble,  and  right  excellent 
princess  Mary,  princess  of  England, 
and  daughter  of  our  sovereign  lord 
the  king.—  Sanford,  499. 


NOTE  N,  p.  237. 


We  have  two  versions  of  this  story ; 
one  by  the  king,  the  other  by  the 
cardinal. 

1.  In  1529,  Henry  took  occasion, 
in  presence  of  his  council,  of  several 
peers,   and   of  the   lord   mayor  and 
aldermen,   to   explain,    "le  scrupule 
de  conscience  ou  de  long  terns  il  s'est 
trouve  de  1'affaire  susdite,  qui  terri- 
blement  luy  a  augment^  depuis  qu'un 
eveque   Francois,   grant   personnage 
et  scavant  homme  (signifiant  M.   de 
Tarbes),  estant  pour  lors  ambassadeur 
decza,   en  avoit  tenu  en  son  conseil 
termes  terriblement  expres." — Lettres 
de  1'eVeque   de   Bayonne,  218.     Ac- 
cording to  this  account,  the  bishop  of 
Tarbes   did    not    in   fact    raise,    but 
augment    the    king's    doubt.      That 
doubt  had  existed  long  before. 

2.  Wolsey,  in  a  letter  to  the  king, 
relates  the  manner  in  which  he  opened 
the  matter  of  the  divorce  to  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  and  the  bishop 
of  Rochester,  as  he   passed  through 
Kent    on    his    embassy   to    France. 
He  told  them,  that  during  the  con- 
ferences respecting   the   marriage  of 
Francis  with  the  lady  Mary,  he  had 


asked  whether  that  king  was  free 
from  his  pre-contract  with  Leonora 
of  Portugal ;  that  the  bishop  of  Tarbes 
in  return  wrote  to  him  from  his 
lodging,  to  inquire  if  Henry's  mar- 
riage with  Catherine  was  a  lawful 
marriage  ;  and  that  the  dispensation 
was  shown  to  Tarbes,  who  doubted 
its  sufficiency ;  whereupon  the  ques- 
tion was  by  mutual  consent  "  put 
over  till  his  [the  cardinal's]  coming 
into  France." — St.  Pap.  i.  199.  The 
two  stories  certainly  do  not  harmonize 
with  each  other. 

3.  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  in 
his  long  and  confidential  despatch,  in 
which  Wolsey  details  to  Henry  his 
conversation  with  the  two  prelates, 
not  a  word,  not  an  allusion,  escapes 
from  him,  to  intimate  that  he  told 
them  the  truth  ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
seems  to  hint  that  the  tale  had  been 
got  up  between  the  king  and  himself, 
to  furnish  a  suitable  introduction  to 
the  subject,  without  exciting  any 
suspicion  that  the  doubt  had  origi- 
nated with  the  king  or  the  cardinal. 
For  he  says,  "I  declared  the  ho! 
matter  at  length,  as  was  devised  with 


A1TENDIX. 


291 


your  Highness   at  Yorke   Place." — 
Ibid.  200. 

4 .  But  we  have  much  stronger  though 
negative  evidence.  The  instructions, 
the  despatches,  and  the  journal  of 
the  French  ambassadors  are  still  ex- 
tant among  the  MSS.  de  Brienne, 
and  in  the  collection  Fontamert.  In 
these  papers  we  find  notice  of  the 
question  put  by  the  cardinal,  and  of 
the  answer  by  the  ambassadors,  that 
the  contract  with  Leonora  was  not 
binding,  being  made  when  Francis 
was  in  prison,  and  not  his  own 
master  ;  that  he  had  previously  pro- 
tested against  its  validity,  and  that 
he  had  since  been  released  from  it  by 
the  act  of  the  emperor,  who,  instead 
of  sending  Leonora  to  France,  accord- 
ing to  the  treaty,  "  auroit  refuse* 
le  faire,  et  ainsi  contravenu  audict 
traits'."  If,  in  addition,  they  vad 
called  in  question  the  validity  of 
Henry's  marriage  and  the  legitimacy 
of  his  daughter,  had  disputed  the 
sufficiency  of  the  dispensation,  and 
had  agreed  that  this  matter  should 
be  fully  investigated  on  the  arrival  of 
the  cardinal  in  France,  would  not 
this  also  have  been  entered  on  their 


papers  ?  Yet  there  is  no  trace  of  any 
such  thing  there,  no  reference  to  it. 
"Je  ne  trouve,"  says  Le  Grand, 
"  rien  de  cela  ny  dans  le  journal  que 
nous  avons  de  cette  ambassade,  ny 
dans  les  lettres  de  Messieurs  de 
Turenne  et  de  Tarbes  que  j'ai  lues." 
— Le  Grand,  i.  49.  Not  content  with 
his  testimony,  I  have  on  two  occa- 
sions employed  friends  to  examine 
these  MSS.,  who  assure  me  that  the 
assertion  of  Le  Grand  is  perfectly 
correct. 

5.  Wolsey  said  that  the  question 
was  left  for  discussion  till  his  arrival 
in  France.  Now  we  have  the  in- 
structions given  to  him  (St.  Pap.  i. 
191),  and  a  multitude  of  letters  from 
him,  detailing  the  whole  progress  of 
the  negotiation  (ibid.  196 — 281);  yet 
neither  in  one  nor  the  other  is  there 
any  mention  of  the  matter. 

Hence  it  is  clear  to  me  that  the  whole 
story  is  a  fiction,  got  up  to  enable 
the  cardinal  to  break  the  subject  to 
the  two  prelates,  and  to  draw  from 
them  the  expression  of  their  opinion, 
under  the  pretext  that  he  would  be 
compelled  in  a  few  days  to  discuss  it 
with  the  French  ministers. 


NOTE  O,  p.  238. 


The  following  abstract  of  the  rea- 
soning on  both  sides  of  the  question 
may  not  be  unacceptable  to  the  reader. 
It  is  taken  from  Du  Pin,  Cent.  xvi. 
lib.  ii.  p.  140. 

"Those  on  the  king's  party  alleged  ; 
1.  That  the  laws  of  Moses  which 
concerned  marriage,  were  not  in- 
tended for  the  Jews  exclusively,  but 
were  for  all  times  and  all  nations  ; 
that  they  were  grounded  upon  natural 
decency  ;  that  God  calls  the  breaches 
of  those  laws  wickedness  and  abomi- 
nations, and  threatens  the  most  severe 
punishments  to  such  as  will  not  observe 
them ;  and  that  the  prohibition  to 
marry  the  brother's  wife  was  not  less 
strict  *Jian  that  of  marrying  within 


the  degrees  of  consanguinity  and 
affinity  set  down  in  Leviticus. 

"2.  That  that  law  was  never  re- 
pealed nor  explained  by  Jesus  Christ 
or  his  apostles. 

"  3.  But  that,  on  the  contrary, 
St.  John  the  Baptist  had  sharply 
reproved  Herod  for  marrying  his 
brother's  wife. 

"4.  That  the  first  Christians 
always  accounted  the  laws  of  Levi- 
ticus to  be  inviolable  ;  that  Tertul- 
lian,  Origen,  St.  Basil,  St.  Jerome, 
St.  Chrysostom,  St.  Ambrose,  St.  Au- 
gustine, and  Hesychius,  severely  con- 
demned the  marriage  of  a  man  with 
his  brother's  wife,  and  affirmed  that 
this  prohibition  was  not  particulai 
U  2 


zes 


APPENDIX. 


to  the  Jews,  but  general  to  all  man- 
kind ;  that  the  council  of  Neocse- 
Karea  excommunicated  every  man 
who  married  his  wife's  sister,  and 
the  woman  that  should  marry  two 
brothers,  and  the  same  canon  was 
confirmed  by  the  council  held  under 
Gregory  IT.  ;  that  in  all  the  coun- 
cils that  have  taken  notice  of  the 
degrees  of  affinity  within  which  it  is 
unlawful  to  contract  marriage,  this 
of  the  brother  and  sister-in-law  is 
put  .among  them  ;  that  the  pope 
St.  Gregory,  being  consulted  by  Au- 
gustine the  monk,  whom  he  sent 
into  England,  whether  it  was  lawful 
for  a  man  to  marry  his  brother's 
widow,  answered,  that  this  sort  of 
marriages  was  forbidden,  and  if  any 
persons  who  were  lately  converted 
had  contracted  any  such  before  their 
conversion,  they  ought  to  be  advised 
not  to  associate  with  their  wives  ; 
and  that  there  never  was  a  more 
favourable  occasion  to  dispense  with 
Ruch  marriages  than  this,  if  the  church 
had  the  power." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  writers 
of  the  queen's  party  maintained  ; 
1.  "  That  the  prohibition  in  Leviticus, 
to  marry  a  brother's  wife,  was  not  a 
law  of  nature,  but  only  a  positive 
law  ;  which  Moses  had  sufficiently 
shown  by  commanding  in  Deute- 
ronomy the  brother  to  marry  his 
brother's  widow,  when  the  latter  died 
without  children,  demonstrating  by 
this  exception,  that  the  law  admitted 
of  dispensation,  and  consequently 
was  not  a  law  of  nature  ;  that  before 
Moses  that  law  was  of  no  force,  be- 
cause Jacob  married  Leah  and  Rachel, 
two  sisters  ;  and  Judah,  after  he  had 
married  two  of  his  sons  to  Tamar, 
promised  her  the  third. 


"2.  That  in  the  New  Testament 
Jesus  Christ  approved  of  the  excep- 
tion in  Deuteronomy,  in  answer  te 
the  Sadducees,  who  had  proposed 
that  law  to  him. 

"3.  That  St.  John  the  Baptist 
reproved  Herod  for  marrying  his 
brother's  wife,  either  because  his 
brother  was  yet  living,  or  because,  if 
he  was  dead,  he  had  left  children. 

"  4.  That  the  fathers  always  looked 
upon  the  law  of  Deuteronomy  as  an 
exception  to  that  of  Leviticus  ;  that 
in  the  ancient  apostolic  canons,  he 
that  married  two  sisters,  one  after 
another,  was  only  put  out  of  the 
clergy  ;  and  in  the  council  of  Elvira, 
only  three  years'  penance  was  im- 
posed upon  the  parties ;  that  the 
ecclesiastical  and  civil  laws,  which 
forbid  these  marriages,  forbid  also 
marriages  within  the  degrees  of  con- 
sanguinity ;  that  there  is  not  cer- 
tainly any  prohibition  of  such  mar- 
riages by  the  law  of  nature  ;  that 
the  popes  who  condemned  these  mar- 
riages, did  not  deprive  themselves 
of  the  power  of  dispensing  in  some 
cases,  though  they  did  seldom  do  it ; 
and  that  there  are  examples  of  mar- 
riages made  within  the  degrees  for- 
bidden in  Leviticus,  which  have  been 
always  looked  upon  as  lawful  mar- 
riages." 

To  me  two  things  appear  evident ; 
1.  That  the  law  in  Leviticus  was  not 
in  its  own  nature  so  binding  as  nerer 
to  admit  of  dispensation  ;  because 
such  dispensation  is  allowed  in  Deu 
teronomy  :  2.  That  Moses  published 
both  the  law  and  the  exception  to  it 
for  the  use  of  the  Jews.  Whether 
both  or  either  were  to  be  extended 
to  other  nations,  is  a  question  on 
which  the  Scripture  is  silent. 


NOTES  P  and  Q,  pp.  239,  211. 


It  was  reported  at  the  time  (Polid. 
xvii.  84  ;  Hall,  728  ;  Singer's  Caven- 
dish, 182),  that  the  great  object  of 
this  embassy  was  to  offer  in  the 


king's  name  marriage  to  a  French 
princess  ;  according  to  some,  to  Mar- 
garet, duchess  of  Alen9on  and  sister 
of  Francis  ;  according  to  others,  t«* 


APPENDIX. 


293 


his  sister-in-law,  Rene*e,  daughter  of 
the  late  king,  Louis  XII.  We  are 
even  told  that  Margaret  refused,  on 
the  ground  that  the  consequence 
would  be  wretchedness  and  death  to 
Catherine  ;  and  that  the  proposal 
was  made  to  Rende  at  Compeigne, 
but,  for  reasons  with  which  we  are 
unacquainted,  did  not  take  effect. 
These  stories,  though  frequently  re- 
peated by  succeeding  writers,  are 
undoubtedly  fictions,  both  as  far  as 
regards  Margaret,  for  she  was  married 
to  the  king  of  Navarre  on  the  24th 
of  January,  1527,  five  months  before 
Wolsey  set  out  on  the  embassy  ;  and 
also  with  respect  to  Renee  :  for  not 
only  is  there  no  allusion  to  any  mar- 
riage with  her  in  Wolsey's  instruc- 
tions or  in  his  despatches  from  France, 
though  she  is  there  repeatedly  men- 
tioned in  company  with  the  other  ladies 
of  the  court,  but  no  proposal  could  be 
made  to  her,  as  long  as  it  did  not  suit 
the  policy  of  Henry  and  his  minister  to 
make  an  open  declaration  of  the  king's 


intention  to  obtain  a  divorce  from 
Catherine, — for  such  declaration  must 
have  preceded  any  proposal  of  mar- 
riage. Now,  as  has  been  already 
shown,  nothing  more  than  an  obscure 
and  ambiguous  hint  of  Henry's  design 
was  given,  and  that  only  at  the  car- 
dinal's departure  from  Compiegae  on 
his  return  home. 

It  may  have  been  that,  as  Polydore 
asserts  (p.  82),  Wolsey,  when  the 
question  of  the  divorce  was  first 
mentioned,  suggested  the  benefit 
which  would  arise  from  a  union  with 
Margaret,  and  that,  after  her  marriage 
with  the  king  of  Navarre,  he  sub- 
stituted in  his  own  mind  Rene*e  in 
her  place  ;  but  that  the  king  or  the 
cardinal  should  actually  propose  such 
marriage  to  either  of  those  ladies, 
before  a  single  step  had  been  taken 
to  procure  a  divorce  from  Catherine, 
or  any  intention  had  been  avowed  of 
taking  such  step,  is  an  inconsistency 
of  which  neither  could  have  been 
guilty. 


NOTE  Q,  p.  241. 


The  proceedings  before  the  legates 
in  the  cause  of  the  divorce  have  been 
extracted  from  the  register,  and  pub- 
lished by  Herbert  (261—282),  and 
more  briefly  by  Burnet  (iii.  46). 

I.  The  evidence  in  proof  of  the 
consummation  of  the  marriage  be- 
tween Arthur  and  Catherine  amounts 
to  this  :  that  the  prince  was  fifteen 
years  old  ;  that  he  slept  two  or  three 
nights  in  the  same  bed  with  the 

Srincess  ;  and  that  on  two  occasions 
e  made  indelicate  allusions  to  that 
circumstance.  As  Catherine  declined 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  court,  we  are 
ignorant  what  answer  her  counsel 
might  have  given.  But  we  know 
that  one  of  the  witnesses  examined 
before  the  legates,  the  bishop  of  Ely, 
declared  that  the  queen  had  often 
denied  the  consummation  to  him  sub 
testiinonio  cor.scientise  suae  ;  that  she 


also  denied  it  upon  oath  in  her  appeal 
to  the  pontiff ;  that  at  the  trial  she 
put  it  to  the  king  himself,  whether 
she  were  not  a  virgin  when  she  came 
to  his  bed  ;  and  that  Cardinal  Pole 
also  reminded  Henry  of  a  conversa- 
tion, in  which  he  had  acknowledged 
the  same  to  the  emperor,  when  that 
prince  was  in  England. — Poli  De- 
fensio  Unit.  Eccl.  fol.  Ixxvii. 

Bacon  (p.,  117)  asserts  that  Henry 
did  not  take  the  title  of  prince  of 
Wales  for  some  months  after  the 
death  of  his  brother,  because  it  was 
possible  that  the  princess  might  be 
pregnant.  If  the  fact  were  so,  or  if 
any  advantage  could  have  been  de- 
rived from  it,  it  would  not  have  been 
overlooked  at  the  trial. 

II.  It  was  contended  for  the  king, 
that  the  bull  of  dispensation  was  void, 
because  it  had  been  obtained  on. 


291 


APPENDIX. 


grounds  manifestly  false ;  viz.,  that 
Henry  and  Catherine  wished  to  many, 
in  order  to  give,  by  their  marriage, 
greater  stability  to  the  friendship 
between  the  crowns  of  England  and 
Spain.  This  clause,  it  was  contended, 
invalidated  the  whole  instrument  ; 
because  there  was  at  that  time  no 
danger  of  enmity  between  the  two 
crowns,  and  because  the  prince  and 
princess  could  not  have  entertained 
any  such  notions  as  it  attributed  to 
them. 

But  in  addition  to  the  bull,  Cathe- 
rine had  obtained  from  Spain  the  copy 
of  a  breve  of  dispensation,  which  was 
so  worded  as  to  elude  this  objection. 
The  king's  counsel  denied  its  authen- 
ticity. 1.  If  the  breve  were  not  a 
forgery,  why  was  it  not  in  England  ? 
How  came  it  to  be  in  Spain?  How 
happened  it  that  no  trace  of  its  exist- 
ence could  be  discovered  in  Rome  ? 
'2.  It  was  dated  on  the  same  day  with 
the  bull,  December  2G,  1503 ;  a  ma- 
nifest anachronism  according  to  the 
king's  advocates.  For  if  in  bulls 
the  year  was  computed  from  the  1st 
of  January,  in  breves  it  was  computed 
from  the  25th  of  December  ;  so  that 
in  reality  the  breve  was  dated  one 
whole  year  before  the  bull,  and  even 
before  Julius,  who  was  made  to  grant 
the  dispensation,  had  been  chosen 


That 


it  answer  was  returned  by  the 
advocates  of  Catherine,  we  know  not. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  these  objec- 
tions, I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
the  breve  was  genuine.  1.  From  the 
attestations  of  its  authenticity  given 
by  the  archbishop  of  Toledo,  and  the 
papal  nuncio,  by  whom  it  was  ex- 
amined before  the  emperor  and  his 
council  (apud  Herb.  264):  2.  From 
the  conduct  of  Henry  himself,  who 
acted  as  if  he  knew  it  to  be  genuine. 
He  had  demanded  that  the  original 
should  be  sent  to  him.  Charles  very 
prudently  refused  ;  but  offered  to 
deposit  it  with  the  pope,  that  it 
might  be  impartially  examined. 
Henry,  however,  was  alarmed.  He 


offer,  and  to  dissuade  Clement  from 
having  any  concern  in  the  matter 
(Burnet,  i.  Records,  ii.  66,  7o,  74). 
3.  From  the  deposition  of  Bishop 
Fox,  ihat  several  dispensations  were 
obtained.— Herb.  274. 

But,  supposing  the  breve  to  be 
genuine,  how  are  we  to  account  for 
its  existence,  and  for  the  alleged  error 
in  the  date  ?  It  appears  from  a  letter 
of  Julius  to  Henry  VJI.  (apud  Herb. 
370),  that  the  bull  was  expedited  with 
great  haste  at  the  urgent  solicitation 
of  Isabella,  the  mother  of  Catherine, 
who,  aware  of  the  dangerous  state  of 
her  health,  solicited  from  the  pontiff 
the  consolation  of  possessing  before 
her  death  a  copy  of  the  dispensation 
in  favour  of  her  daughter.  But,  if  we 
compare  that  bull  with  the  treaty  of 
the  marriage,  we  shall  find  that  it 
does  not  fulfil  the  conditions  to  which 
the  parents  of  the  parties  had  agreed  ; 
that  it  should  be  conceived  in  the 
most  ample  form  which  could  be 
devised,  arid  that  it  should  contain  a 
clause  authorizing  the  union  of  Ca- 
therine with  Henry,  "  though  her 
previous  marriage  with  Arthur  had 
been  contracted  in  the  face  of  the 
church,  and  afterwards  consum- 
mated."—Rym.  xiii.  SO.  When  it  was 
discovered  that  the  bull  omitted  this 
important  clause,  and  was  defective 
in  other  respects,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  matter  would  be  repre- 
sented to  the  court  of  Rome,  and  that 
a  second  dispensation,  supply  ing  the 
deficiencies  of  the  first,  would  be 
issued  in  form  of  a  bull  or  breve.  It 
was  usual  on  such  occasions  to  em- 
ploy in  the  last  instrument  the  ori- 
ginal date  ;  nor  will  it  excite  surprise, 
if  the  clerk,  at  the  moment  when  he 
transcribed  that  date  from  the  first 
dispensation,  did  not  advert  to  the 
circumstance,  that  in  breves  the  jeai 
commenced  six  days  earlier  than  in 
bulls. 

III.  The  king's  counsel  gave  in 
evidence  the  protest  made  by  the 
prince,  when  he  was  on  the  point 
of  completing  his  fourteenth  year. 
What  advantage  could  be  dcn-.'e'J 


A1TEN.D1X. 


225 


from  it,  I  do  not  see.  For  if  it  were 
argued  that  the  protest  was  a  legal 
revocation  of  the  contract  between 
the  parties,  it  must  also  have  been 
admitted  that  the  subsequent  mar- 
riage was  a  complete  ratification  of 
it.  If  the  protest  revokwd  the  con- 
tract, the  marriage  revoked  the  pro- 
test. In  a  word,  all  that  can  be  col- 
lected with  any  certainty  from  the 
evidence  given  before  the  legates,  is 
that  Arthur,  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
had  slept  in  the  same  bed  with  the 
princess.  This  was  the  only  con- 
clusion drawn  from  it,  when  the  pro- 
ceedings recommenced  before  the 
archbishop  Cranmer,  and  was  de- 
clared by  the  canonists  in  the  convo- 
cation a  presumptive  proof  that  the 
marriage  had  been  consummated. 

Before  I  close  this  subject,  I  ought 
perhaps  to  notice  an  extract  from  one 
of  the  Lansdowne  manuscripts,  con- 
taining an  assemblage  of  materials 
for  an  ecclesiastical  history  of  Eng- 
land, from  1500  to  1510,  by  Bishop 
Kennet.  Under  15U5 he  says,  "The 
king  (Henry  VII.)  in  a  declining 
health  began  to  fall  into  melancholy 
thoughts,  and  to  imagine  that  the 
untimely  death  of  his  queen,  and  the 
growing  weakness  of  his  own  consti- 
tution, were  a  sort  of  judgment  upon 
him  for  consenting  to  the  contract 
made  between  Prince  Henry  and  his 
brother's  wife :  for  which  reason  he 
made  it  a  part  of  his  penitential 
courses  to  dissuade  his  son  Henry 
from  ever  perfecting  and  consum- 
mating that  match,  as  the  account  is 
best  given  by  Sir  Richard  Morysine." 
After  an  extract  from  the  Apornaxis 
Calumniarum  by  Morysine,  he  pro- 
ceeds :  "The  king  for  this  purpose 
sent  for  the  prince  to  Richmond,  and 
there  by  his  own  influence  and  the 
concurrent  advice  of  his  wisest  coun- 
sellor, Fox,  bi shop  of  Winchester,  &c., 
prevailed  with  him  to  make  a  solemn 
protestation  against  the  validity  of 
that  contract,  and  a  promise  never 
to  make  it  good  by  a  subsequent  ma- 
trimony." But  this  statement  is 
liable  to  numerous  objections.  1.  If 


Henry  VII.  had  ever  expressed  to  his 
son  any  doubt  respecting  the  validity 
of  the  dispensation,  Henry  VIII. 
would  certainly  have  availed  himself 
of  it  wfiea  he  determined  to  divorce 
Catherine.  In  his  speeches  and  de- 
spatches he  often  attempts  to  explain 
the  origin  of  his  scruples,  and  to 
defend  them,  but  he  never  once  men 
tions  any  doubt  or  objection  made  by 
his  father.  2.  If  he  could  have 
proved  that  the  protestation  ori- 
ginated from  religious  motives,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  done  it  be- 
fore the  legates.  But  the  evidence 
before  them  proves  the  contrary. 
Warham,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
owned  indeed  that  he  did  not  at  first 
approve  of  the  marriage,  and  told  the 
king  so  in  the  presence  of  Fox,  who 
advised  it ;  but  added  that,  when  the 
bull  of  dispensation  arrived,  he  con- 
tradicted it  no  more.  In  addition, 
he  deposed  that,  because  the  said 
king  Henry  appeared  not  much  in- 
clined to  the  marriage,  he  entreated 
him  to  persuade  the  prince  to  pro- 
test against  it.  But  on  wh» 
grounds  he  advised  this  protest,  he 
has  not  told  us. — Herb.  271.  Fox, 
however,  who  is  said  by  Kennet  to 
have  advised  it  on  motives  of  religion, 
says  the  contrary.  He  tells  us,  that 
though  "  the  protest  was  made,  it  was 
the  intention  of  the  king  that  his  son 
should  marry  the  lady  Catherine  ; 
but  that  he  deferred  the  solemnization 
of  this  intended  matrimony  by  reason 
of  some  discord  which  was  at  that 
time  betwixt  him  and  the  king  of 
Spain,  for  the  calling-  back  of  the 
dowry."— Herb.  274.  3.  That  the 
protest  was  entirely  a  political  mea- 
sure is  evident  from  the  testimony 
of  Bishop  Fox,  which  I  have  just 
mentioned,  from  the  succeeding  nego- 
tiations in  which  Henry  always  ex- 
pressed his  consent  to  the  solemniza- 
tion of  the  marriage,  provided  that 
the  marriage  portion  were  previously 
paid  (see  ante,  p.  160,  et  seq.),  and 
from  the  fact  of  his  having  received 
two  payments  a  little  before  his  death, 
and  not  only  signed  the  receipts  him 


296 


APPENDIX 


self,  but  compelled  his  son  to  sign 
them.  This  completely  overturns 
the  statement  of  his  regret  for  having 
suffered  the  contract  to  be  made,  and 
of  his  resolution,  during  his  peni- 


tential courses,  to  prevent  its  accom- 
plishment. Morysine  and  Kennet 
knew  of  the  existence  of  the  protest  ; 
the  rest  was  probably  invented  to 
account  for  that  existence. 


NOTE  R,  p.  205. 


Here  I  shall  present  to  the  reader 
portraits  of  Henry,  of  Queen  Cathe- 
rine, and  of  Anne  Boleyn,  drawn  at 
this  very  time  by  the  Venetian  ambas- 
sadors in  their  reports  to  the  senate. 
Ludovico  Falier  was  resident  here 
from  17th  Dec.  1528  till  27th  August, 
1531.  In  his  Relatione,  read  in  the 
senate  on  Nov.  10  of  that  year,  he 
thus  describes  the  king  : — 

"  His  features  are,  I  will  not  say 
beautiful ;  they  are  angelic.  His 
look  is  commanding,  but  gentle. 
Contrary  to  the  English  fashion,  he 
wears  his  beard.  Who  can  look  at 
him,  when  he  is  in  action,  without 
astonishment,  so  surpassing  is  the 
beauty  of  his  person,  so  winning  the 
ease  and  gracefulness  of  his  manner. 
He  sits  well  on  horseback  ;  he  is  com- 
pletely master  of  his  steed  ;  he  tilts, 
and  bears  his  lance  nobly  ;  he  draws 
the  sword  and  the  bow  admirably, 
and  plays  at  tennis  with  extraordinary 
skill.  He  applied  to  the  belles  lettres 
from  his  childhood,  afterwards  to  the 
study  of  philosophy  and  theology,  so 
that  he  has  acquired  the  name  of  a 
.earned  and  accomplished  prince. 
Besides  the  Latin  and  his  mother 
tongue,  he  learned  the  Spanish, 
French,  and  Italian  languages.  He 
is  affable,  gracious,  very  polite,  and 
courteous ;  and  liberal  in  his  pre- 
sents, especially  to  men  of  learning. 
Yet  with  all  his  knowledge  and  acute- 
ness  he  allowed  himself  to  fall  into 
amorous  pursuits  so  far  that,  thinking 
only  of  his  pleasures,  he  left  the  go- 
vernment of  his  kingdom  to  his  most 
trusty  ministers,  till  the  time  when 
he  began  to  persecute  the  cardinal  of 
York.  From  that  moment  he  has 


been  quite  enamoured  with  his  own 
management,  and  is  become  quite 
another  man.  He  was  generous,  is 
now  covetous ;  and  as  formerly  no 
one  took  leave  of  him  without  a  satis- 
factory present,  now  every  one  goes 
away  in  discontent.  He  appears  to 
be  devout.  He  generally  hears  two 
low  masses  ;  and  the  high  mass  also 
on  festivals.  He  is  exceedingly  chari 
table  to  orphans  and  widows,  to  young 
maidens,  and  persons  wounded  or 
or  maimed,  to  the  amount  of  about 
10,000  ducats  a  year.  He  is  beloved 
by  all.  He  is  determined  on  effecting  a 
divorce.  His  object  is  to  have  legiti- 
mate male  issue ;  and  as  he  has  no  hope 
of  having  such  by  my  lady  Catherine, 
he  will  assuredly  marry  his  favourite, 
a  daughter  of  the  earl  of  Wiltshire. 
There  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  such  a 
marriage  will  take  place  ;  after  which 
it  is  possible  that  his  majesty  may  be 
troubled  with  insurrections  on  the 
part  of  those  who  favour  the  queen  ; 
for  she  is  so  much  beloved  and  re- 
vered by  the  people,  that  they  already 
begin  to  show  their  discontent. 

"  My  lady  the  queen  is  low  of  sta- 
ture, inclining  to  corpulency,  a  hand- 
some woman,  of  great  repute,  upright, 
and  full  of  goodness  and  devotion.  She 
speaks  Spanish,  Flemish,  French,  am* 
English.  She  is  beloved  by  these 
islanders  far  more  than  any  queen 
they  have  had.  She  is  forty-five 
years  old,  thirty  of  which  have  passed 
since  the  death  of  her  first  husband. 
By  the  present  king  she  has  had  two 
sons  and  a  daughter.  One  of  the  sons 
died  at  the  age  of  six  months.  The 
second  lived  scarcely  long  enough  to 
be  baptized.  There  remains  only  the 


APPENDIX. 


297 


daughter,  sixteen  years  old,  a  beau- 
tiful, kind,  and  most  accomplished 
princess,  not  at  all  inferior  to  her 
mother.  He  has  also  a  natural  son, 
born  of  a  married  woman,  the  wife  of 
one  of  his  barons.  The  young  man 
gives  the  most  flattering  promise  ;  he 
is  so  very  like  to  his  father." 

Falier  was  succeeded  by  Carlo  Ca- 
pello,  who  wrote  to  the  senate  on  7th 


Dec.  1532  : — "My  lady  Anne  is  no 
beauty.  She  is  tall  of  stature,  with 
a  sallow  complexion,  long  neck,  large 
mouth,  and  narrow  chest.  In  fact 
she  has  nothing  in  her  favour  besides 
the  king's  great  passion  for  her, 
and  her  eyes,  which  are  indeed 
black  and  beautiful."  —  From  the 
Ragguagli  of  Mr.  Rawdon  Brown,  iii. 
331—335 


NOTE  S,  p.  2GS. 


That  I  may  not  incur  the  reproach 
of  misrepresentation,  I  purpose  in  this 
note  to  specify  the  reasons  which 
have  induced  me  to  dispute  the  value 
of  the  answers  returned  by  the  uni- 
versities. 

1.  Cavendish,    an    attentive     ob- 
server,  tells  us   that  "  such   as  had 
any  rule,  or  had  the  custody  of  their 
university  seals,  were  choked  by  the 
commissioners  with  notable  sums  of 
money." — Cavendish,  417.     The  first 
parliament  under  Queen  Mary  asserts 
that  the  answers  of  the  foreign  uni- 
versities had  been  obtained  by  bribes, 
those  of  our  own  by  sinister  workings, 
and  secret  threatenings. — St.  1  Mary, 
c.    1.     Pope  Clement  in   one  of  his 
letters  observes,  that  no  artifice,  no 
entreaty,   no   money   was  spared   to 
obtain    a    favourable   subscription — 
Nullo  non  astu,  et  prece  et  pretio. — 
Apud  Raynald,  xxxii.  230. 

2.  Of  the    "  secret  workings   and 
sinister   threatenings"    employed   in 
the  English  universities  we  have  suf- 
ficient evidence.     In  February,  1530, 
Gardiner  and  Fox  were  sent  to  Cam- 
bridge to  procure   an  answer  in  the 
affirmative  to  the  following  question  : 
Is  it  prohibited  by  the   divine  and 
natural  law  for  a  brother  to  marry 
the  relict   of  his  deceased   brother  ? 
Finding  the  sense  of  the  university 
against  them,  they  proposed  that  the 
matter  should  be  referred  to  a  com- 
mittee, in  which  the  decision  of  two 
thirds   of  the  members    should    be 


taken  for  the  decision  of  the  whole 
body.  The  question  was  twice  put 
and  lost ;  but  on  a  third  division, 
"by  the  labour  of  friends  to  cause 
some  to  depart  the  house  who  were 
against  it,"  it  was  carried.  The  com- 
mittee was  accordingly  appointed. 
Of  the  twenty-nine  members  sixteen 
had  already  promised  their  votes  to 
the  king,  and  four  had  given  hopes  of 
compliance ;  "of  the  which  four," 
say  the  commissioners  in  their  letter 
to  Henry,  "  if  we  get  two,  and  obtain 
of  another  to  be  absent,  it  is  sufficient 
for  our  purpose."  An  affirmative 
answer  was  now  given.  Yet  it  dis- 
appointed the  hope  of  the  king,  for  it 
embraced  a  condition  which  he  had 
excluded  from  the  question, — "  if  the 
widow  had  been  carnally  known  by 
her  former  husband."  Henry  com- 
plained of  this  addition  ;  but  Dr. 
Buckmaster,  the  vice-chancellor,  as- 
sured him  that  it  was  so  necessary  to 
admit  it,  that  without  such  admission 
they  would  have  been  left  in  a  mi- 
nority.—See  Burnet,  i.  Rec.  85 — 88  ; 
iii.  Rec.  20—24. 

3.  At  Oxford  the  opposition  was 
still  more  obstinate.  It  was  in  vain 
that  the  king  sent  letter  after  letter, 
messenger  after  messenger,  to  the 
university.  At  length  recourse  was 
had  to  the  experience  and  policy  of 
Fox,  who  was  ordered  to  repair  to 
Oxford,  and  employ  the  same  expe- 
dients there  which  had  proved  suc- 
cessful in  the  sister  university.  On 


298 


APPENDIX. 


the  fourth  of  April  he  obtained  a  de- 
cree investing  a  committee  of  thirty- 
three  persons  with  full  authority  to 
answer  the  question.  Of  the  thirty- 
three  the  bishop  of  Lincoln,  the  vice- 
chancellor,  and  Dr.  Stinton,  were 
appointed  by  name ;  their  thirty 
colleagues  were  left  to  their  choice. 
Whether  two-thirds  of  these  pro- 
nounced in  favour  of  the  king  or  not, 
is  rather  doubtful.  A  determination 
in  the  affirmative,  with  the  same 
condition  appended  to  it  which  had 
been  adopted  at  Cambridge,  was  for- 
warded to  Henry ;  but  its  opponents 
denied  that  it  had  obtained  the  con- 
sent of  the  majority,  and  affirmed  that 
the  seal  of  the  university  had  been 
affixed  to  it  clandestinely. — See  Wilk. 
Con.  iii.  726  ;  St.  Papers,  i.  377  ; 
Wood,  255  ;  Mddes,  Rec.  ii.  83—85  ; 
Collier,  ii.  52,  53  ;  Burnet,  iii.  Rec. 
25—28. 

Cardinal  Pole,  in  his  letter  to 
Henry,  observes  that  he  found  it  more 
difficult  to  obtain  subscriptions  at 
home  than  abroad  ;  and  that  he  over- 
came the  difficulty  with  the  aid  of 
menacing  letters.  Nunquam,  ubi 
consisteret,  invenisset,  nisi  ese,  quae 
plus  quam  preces  valere  solent  apud 
multorum  animos,  minarum  refertse 
regiae  literae  ad  scholarum  principes 
quasi  auxiliatrices  copiae  summissae, 
aciem  jam  inclinatam  sustinuissent 

Omnes  omnibus  viis  tentabas,  qui 

aliqua  doctrinae  et  literarum  opinione 
essent :  cum  qui  bus  tamen  plus  tibi 
negotii  fuit  quam  cum  exteris. — Pol. 
Defen.  fol.  Ixxvii.  Ixxviii. 

4.  The  Italian  commission  consisted 
of  Ghinucci,  bishop  of  Worcester, 
Gregorio  da  Casale,  Stokesley,  and 
Croke.  But  Croke  seems  to  have 
been  the  most  active,  and  to  have 
employed  a  number  of  inferior  agents, 
whose  honesty  in  some  instances  he 
suspected.  If  we  may  believe  him, 
whenever  he  failed,  it  was  on  account 
of  the  threats  and  promises  of  the 
imperialists;  if  he  succeeded,  it  was 
not  through  bribes,  for  he  never  gave 
the  subscriber  anything  till  he  had 
written  his  name,  and  then  nothing 


more  thnn  an  honourable  present. 
He  seems,  however,  to  have  trusted 
much  the  influence  of  these  honour- 
able presents ;  for  in  his  letter  to  the 
king,  dated  July  1st,  he  says,  "Al- 
beit, gracious  lord,  if  that  in  time  I 
had  been  sufficiently  furnished  with 
money,  albeit  I  have  besides  this 
seal  (which  cost  me  one  hundred 
crowns)  procured  unto  your  high- 
ness one  hundred  and  tea  subscrip- 
tions, yet.  it  had  been  nothing  in 
comparison  of  that  that  might  easily 
and  would  have  been  done." — Bur- 
net,  i.  Rec.  ii.  xxxviii. ;  Strype,  i. 
App.  106. 

Stokesley  and  Croke  had  sent  a  fa- 
vourable answer  from  the  university 
of  Bologna,  which  Henry  prized  the 
more,  because  Bologna  was  situated 
in  the  papal  dominions.  This  instru- 
ment had  no  date,  was  signed  by 
Pallavicino,  a  Carmelite  friar,  by  com- 
mand, as  was  pretended,  of  the  uni- 
versity, and  was  ordered  to  be  kept 
a  profound  secret.  The  secret,  how- 
ever, transpired ;  Pallavicino  and 
the  notary  who  attended  were  called 
before  the  governor  on  the  9th  of 
September;  and  from  their  confes- 
sions it  appeared  that  the  instrument 
was  composed  by  Pallavicino  himself, 
was  approved  by  four  other  friars,  and 
was  signed  by  the  former  on  the  10th 
of  June.  What  proceedings  followed, 
we  know  not ;  but  Croke,  to  discover 
who  had  betrayed  the  secret,  called 
before  him  the  friars,  the  notary,  and 
the  copiers  of  the  instrument,  and 
examined  them  upon  oath.  From 
their  depositions,  which,  probably 
for  his  own  justification,  he  trans- 
mitted to  England,  the  preceding 
particulars  are  extracted  ;  and  when 
the  reader  has  weighed  them,  he 
will  be  able  to  judge  what  right  such 
an  instrument  can  have  to  be  con- 
sidered as  the  real  answer  of  the 
university. — See  Rymer,  xiv.  393, 
395—397. 

At  Ferrara,  Croke  applied  sepa- 
rately to  the  faculties  of  theology  and 
law.  The  theologians  were  divided. 
One  party  gave  an  answer  in  favour 


APPENDIX. 


2U9 


of  Henry ;  but  the  instrument  was 
carried  off  by  their  opponents.  Croke 
solicited  the  interference  of  the  duke 
of  Ferrara  ;  by  open  force  the  valu- 
able prize  was  wrested  from  the 
possession  of  the  robbers,  and  was 
carefully  transmitted  to  England. 
But  in  his  negotiation  with  the  civi- 
lians and  canonists,  the  agent  was 
less  successful.  He  offered  them  one 
hundred  crowns,  and  was  told  that 
the  sum  was  not  worth  their  accept- 
ance. Kepenting  of  his  parsimony, 
he  offered  one  hundred  and  fifty  the 
next  morning  ;  but  he  wa.s  then  too 
late,  the  faculty  had  resolved  not  to 
interfere  in  so  delicate  a  question.. 
From  Padua,  however,  he  sent  an 
answer.  How  it  was  obtained,  is  a 
secret  ;  but  it  cost  one  hundred 
crovms. — Burnet,  i.  91. 

5.  If   in    Germany    subscriptions 
could,  not  be  obtained,   it  was  not 
through  want  of  agents  or  of  bribes. 
The  agents  were  Cranmer,  Giovanni 
da  Casale,  Andreas,  and  Previdellus  ; 
and    that    money   was    promised    is 
plain  from  the  following  testimony  of 
Coclseus :  Offerebatur  mihi  his  annis 
superioribus  ampla  remunerationis  et 
auri  spes,  si  contra  matrimonium  regis- 
cum  Catharina  vel  ipse  scribere,  vel 
universitatum  aliquot  Germanise  sen- 
tentias,  quales  aliquot  Galliae  et  Italiae 
academiae  dedissent,  procurare  volu- 
issem. — Cocl.  in  Scop,  apud  Sanders, 
p.  60. 

6.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
the  same  arts  were  employed  in  the 
French  universities  as  with  those  of 
Italy.     The  letters   published  by  Le 
Grand   have   exposed   the  whole  in- 
trigue with  respect  to  the  university 
of  Paris.     The   first   meeting  broke 
up,  after  passing  a  resolution  not  to 
deliberate    at   all    on   the    question. 


Francis  compelled  the  members  to 
assemble  again,  and  a  promise  was 
made  to  Henry  that  out  of  sixty- 
three  voices  he  should  have  a  majority 
of  fifty-six.  On  a  division  it  appeared 
that  he  had  only  a  minority  of  twenty- 
two  against  thirty-six.  The  duke  of 
Norfolk  wrote  to  the  French  cabinet 
to  complain.  Assemblies  were  re- 
peatedly held  ;  and  one  of  these  was 
so  artfully  managed,  that  the  king 
obtained  fifty-three  votes  against 
thirty-seven.  The  faculty  assembled 
the  next  day  to  rescind  those  pro- 
ceedings. They  were  disappointed. 
The  bishop  of  Senlis  had  carried  away 
the  register ;  it  was  impossible  to 
erase  the  decree  ;  and  a  resolution 
was  passed  forbidding  any  member 
to  give  an  opinion  in  favour  of  flenry. 
Francis,  irritated  by  their  oDstinacy, 
ordered  the  president  of  the  parlia- 
ment to  make  a  judicial  inquiry  into 
their  conduct  ;  but  that  minister, 
better  informed  than  the  king,  advised 
him  to  allow  the  matter  to  sleep  in 
silence  ;  for,  if  all  the  particulars 
were  made  public,  the  inquiry  would 
prove  to  the  prejudice  of  Henry. 
J'ecris  audit  Seigneur,  que  Ton  la 
doit  faire  surseoir,  jusqu'a  ce  que 
ledit  seigneur  aura  entendu  par  moy 
comment  1'affaire  a  e^  conduite,  et 
que  ladite  information  pourroit  par 
aventure  plus  nuire  audit  roy  d'An« 
gleterre  que  profiler . — Le  Grand,  iii. 
458—491.  Du  Moulins,  an  unex- 
ceptionable witness,  says  that  he  had 
examined  the  account  laid  before 
Francis,  from  which  it  was  evident 
that  the  votes  given  for  Henry- 
had  been  purchased  with  English 
gold,  and  that  the  real  opinion 
of  the  university  was  against  the 
divorce. — Molin.  Not.  ad  Const.  Dec, 
p.  602. 


END  OF  VOL.  IV. 


WYMAN   AND  SONS,  PRINTERS,    GXEAT  IJOEEK  STREET,  LONDON. 


DA  30  .L57  1878  v.4     SMC 
Lingard,  John, 

The  history  of  England  from 
the  first  invasion  by  the  Ro 
6th  ed  rev.  and  considerably 
enl.  --