THE ORDER AND SUCCESSION OF THE Norman Kings.

I.

date of accession 1066 WILLIAM I. known by that terrible Name of the Conqueror, gave the English by one single Battel, so sad experience of their own weakness, and his power, that they universally submitted to him; whereby becom­ing the first King of England of the Norman Race, he left that Glory to be inherited by his second Son

II.

date of accession 1087 WILLIAM II. surnam'd Rufus, who being the eldest born af­ter he was a King, and a Native of this Country, succeeded with as much satisfaction to the English, as to himself, but dying without Issue, left his younger Brother

III.

date of accession 1100 HENRY I. surnam'd Beau­clark, to succeed, in whose Fortune all his Friends were as much deceiv'd as in his Parts (his Father only ex­cepted) who foretold he would be a King, when he scarce left him e­nough to support the dignity of being a Prince. As he set aside his elder Brother, Robert Duke of Norman­dy, so he was requited by a like Judgment upon his Grandson, the Son of his Daughter Maud, who was set aside by

IV.

date of accession 1135 STEPHEN Earl of Blois, his Cousin; but she being such a wo­man as could indeed match any man, disputed her Right so well with him, that however she could not regain the Possession to her self, she got the In­heritance fixed upon her Son

V.

date of accession 1155 HENRY II. Plantaginet, the first of that Name and Race, and the very greatest King that ever Eng­land knew, but withal the most un­fortunate: and that which made his misfortunes more notorious, was, that they rose out of his own Bowels; his Death being imputed to those only to whom himself had given life, his ungracious Sons, the eldest whereof that surviv'd him, succeeded by the Name of

VI.

date of accession 1189 RICHARD I. Coeur de Le­on, whose undutifulness to his Fa­ther was so far retorted by his Bro­ther, that looking on it as a just Judgment upon him, when he dyed he desired to be buried as near his Father as might be possible, in hopes to meet the sooner, and ask forgive­ness of him in the other World: his Brother

VII.

date of accession 1199 JOHN, surnam'd Lackland, had so much more lack of Grace, that he had no manner of sense of his Of­fence, though alike guilty; who af­ter all his troubling the World, and being troubled with it, neither could keep the Crown with honour, nor leave it in peace, which made it a kind of Miracle, that so passionate a Prince as his Son

VIII.

date of accession 1216 HENRY III. should bear up so long as he did, who made a shift to shuffle away fifty six years doing nothing, or which was worse; time enough to have overthrown the tot­tering Monarchy, had it not been supported by such a Noble Pillar as was his Son and Successor

IX.

date of accession 1272 EDWARD I. a Prince wor­thy of greater Empire then he left him; who being a strict Observer of Opportunity (the infallible sign of Wisdom) compos'd all the differences that had infested his Fathers, Grand-fathers, and Great-Grand-fathers Governments; and had questionless dyed as happy as he was glorious, had his Son

X.

date of accession 1307 EDWARD II. answer'd ex­pectation, who had nothing to glory in, but that he was the Son of such a Father, and the Father of such a Son as

XI.

date of accession 1328 EDWARD III. who was no less fortunate then valiant, and his Fortune the greater by a kind of Antiperistasis, as coming between two unfortunate Princes, Successor to his Father, and Predecessor to his Grandson

XII.

date of accession 1377 RICHARD II. the most unfortunate Son of that most fortu­nate Father Edward, commonly call d the Black Prince; who not having the Judgment to distinguish betwixt Flatterers and Friends, fell (like his Great-Grand-father) the miserable example of Credulity, be­ing depos'd by his Cosin

XIII.

date of accession 1399 HENRY IV. the first King of the House of Lancaster, descend­ed from a fourth Son of Edward the Third, who being so much a greater Subject then he was a King, 'twas thought he took the Crown out of Compassion rather then Ambition, to relieve his oppress'd Country, rather then to raise his own House; and accordingly Providence was pleas'd to rivat him so fast in the Opinion of the People, that his Race have continued (though not without great Interruption) ever since: His Son

XIV.

date of accession 1412 HENRY V. was in that re­pute with the People, that they swore Allegiance to him before he was crown'd; an honour never done to any of his Predecessors: neither was he less singular in his Fortune then his Glory: having united the Lilies of France to the Roses of England, and made of both one Diadem, to place on the Head of his Son

XV.

date of accession 1422 HENRY VI. who whilst he was a Child could have no sense of the honour or happiness he was born to; and when he came to be a Man so despis'd it, that every Body thought him fitter to be a Priest then a King: only those of the House of York thought him fitter to be made a Sacrifice then a Priest; and ac­cordingly crook-back'd Richard murther'd him to make way for his elder Brother

XVI.

date of accession 1460 EDWARD IV. the first King of the House of York, descen­ded from the fifth Son of Edward the Third, who made the White Rose to flourish as long as Henry the fourth did the Red; and had kept it flourishing much longer, had he not been more unfortunate, by the Am­bition of those of his own, then those of his Enemies Faction: his two Sons

XVII.

date of accession 1483 EDWARD V. that should have succeeded him, with his innocent Brother, being both murther'd by their unnatural Uncle (who yet call'd himself their Protector)

XVIII.

date of accession 1483 RICHARD III. Duke of Glou­cester, who having kill'd one King be­fore to make way for their Father, kill'd them afterward to make way for himself; but his Usurpation lasted a ve­ry little while, both Nature & Providence agreeing to deny him any Children of his own, for that he had so ill treated those of his nearest Relation, so that for want of Issue, rather then want of Success, the Crown came to the House of Lan­caster in the Person of

XIX.

date of accession 1485 HENRY VII. a Prince that was observ'd to be no great Lover of Women, and yet all his Greatness came by that Sex, that is to say, his title to, his Confirmation in, and his Transmission of the Crown to his Posterity, whose Advent to the Crown being foretold by no less then two Kings, Cadwallader and Henry the Sixth, the one prophesying his union of the Britains and Normans, the other his joyning of the two Roses to­gether, 'tis no marvel his Son

XX.

date of accession 1509 HENRY VIII. Heir by his Fathers side to the House of Lanca­ster; by his Mothers side to the House of York, entred with so general a satisfaction to all at home, and with so great a terrour to all abroad, that they submitted to make him great Arbiter of Christendom: his Son

XXI.

date of accession 1547 EDWARD VI. being very young when he dyed, and dying be­fore he was sixteen years old, had not time to lay a sutable Superstru­cture upon his Foundation, whereby the glory of his Family past away to his Sister

XXII.

date of accession 1553 MARY, who wasted as much blood to shew her self to be Defender of the Faith, as her Father before to make good his being Head of the Church; her Successor

XXIII.

date of accession 1558 ELIZABETH, worthily in­titled her self to both, declining the being a Mother of Children, to the end she might be a Nursing Mother of the Church, which having defend­ed with great honour and success for forty six years together, dying she bequeath'd a Peace to her Kingdoms, and her Kingdoms to that pacifick Prince, James the Sixth of Scot­land, who began the next Dynasty.

WILLI­AM I. date of accession 1066

[Attributed coat of arms of King William I: gules, two lions passant guardant in pale or.]

THIS William, the Se­venth Duke, and first King of all the Normans, having laid the Life and Ambi­tion of Harold in one Grave, so terrified the English with the apprehensions of his For­tune, as well as his Power, that they began to be of the same opinion with his own Peo­ple, that the Dirt he took up in his hands, when he fell down at his first landing upon the slimy Shore of Sussex, was a Livery and Seisin given him of the whole Land by Provi­dence; and accordingly they submitted to his Success, be­fore they could come to sub­mit to him, declaring them­selves his Subjects, before he thought fit to declare himself their Soveraign: who (as scorning to take advantage of their fears) did not march up immediately to the chief City and make that usual haste most Conquerors do (who commonly follow Fame close upon the heels, that so they may enter the Gates with her) but made his approaches so slowly and leisurely, that his march look'd more like a Progress then a Pursuit: whereby seeming to have no distrust, he at once tried and assured their affections to him, having the good hap to be recei­ved rather like a Guest then an Enemy, not as an Alien (however a Stran­ger) but as one that had the same blood running in his Veins, and as they hoped, something of the same good Nature in that Blood, as their beloved King Edward had, by whose Will he chose to make his Title, rather then by his own Sword; and by that modesty of his took off much of the rancor and inflammation from the wounds he had given the common sort, though he took off but little from the fears of the wiser sort, who knowing his Power to be as wide as his Will, did not irrationally conclude that to be as boundless as his Ambition.

The only Province refus'd to swim down the common stream of Servi­tude were those of Kent (the first Invaders when the English came in, the last Invaded at the coming in of these Normans) who yet only made a Pause as it were, to file their Fetters smoother, and make them easie by such Con­ditions, which pleasing themselves, might not be distastful to him. After this there were some attempts to set up Edgar by some of the discontented Nobility, who though they appear'd to be but like Drones, which make a great noise without being able to sting, yet they provoked him so far, that every Body expected he would take that occasion to make himself a real, instead of an imaginary Conqueror, nothing so much advancing Soveraign­ty as unsuccessful Rebellions: but as the Lion disdains to fall upon those Beasts that crouch and prostrate themselves at his feet; so he, scorning that [Page 198] any who submitted to him, should have so much the better of him, as not to be pardon'd, prevented their Fears by a general Indempnity, in which he did not except against his very Rival Edgar; who, however he had in respect to his Title of Athelin (which was as much as to say the Darling) some place in his Caution, was it seems, so much below his Jealousie, that when he came to render himself (as after he did) with all humility upon his knee, he receiv'd him with that magnanimous declaration, Petits se vengent je pardonne; his Generosity so far vying with his Magnanimity, that as he pitied, so he preferred him, making up in happiness what he denied him in greatness, whilst he allowed him a competent support, to maintain the respects due to his Birth, secur'd from the danger of suspition.

But it was not in the power of his Clemency, Courage, or Wisdom, so to oblige, over-awe, or satisfie the common People, but that Envy, Ignorance, or Malice, found out frequent occasions of complaint and murmur; some repining at the new Laws they understood not; others at the continuation of the old they understood but too well: amongst which that of the Bur­rough-Law seem'd to be no small grievance, in respect they were so bound for each other, or rather one to the other, that like tedder'd Horses, they could not break out of their bounds: all thinking it grievous (so hard of digestion is every thing that savours of Conquest) to be wrested from their present usages and forms of S [...]ate, though the change was much for the bet­ter: as when he confin'd the Bishops to the rule of Souls only, who before assisted with the Greve or Alderman (as he was then call'd) that is, the Earl of every County, were absolute Judges in all Cases, and over all Persons; and when in the room of the Greve he constituted Judges of Oyer and Ter­miner by special Commission, to decide all matters of Law, assisted by vid. Holin­shed 8 but some Lawyers are of opinion, Justi­ces of Peace came not in till the time of Edw. 1. nei­ther is the name of Justices of the Peace to be found in Terminis, till the Stat 36. of Ed. 3. c. 12. till when they were nam'd Justices Itinerant, or Justices in Eyre. Justices of the Peace (as he call'd them) taken out of the Minores Nobi­les of every County, who were made Judges of Record, and from hence­forth had the power de Vita & de Membro (as the Lawyers express it) the mighty Current of the Earl's Power that had over-born whomever he had a mind to destroy, was on the sudden sunk so low, by the running down of Justice and Judgment in so many lesser streams, that every man, how mean soever, could wade through a Suit without fear of being over-whelm'd, it being impossible to suffer but by Judgment of his Inquest (as it was then, and hath been ever since call'd) which consisting of twelve men, could not have continued thus long, after so many strivings and struglings for Li­berty, as have been since that time, had not the wisdom of so many Ages judg'd it to be the greatest priviledge the Subject could be capable of, be­ing that indeed which no less Circumscribes the Soveraigns Power, then the Subjects Obedience; so that doubtless he hop'd to naturalize himself by it into their good opinion and liking: But that which frighted them most, was the black Censual Roll (therefore call'd by that dismal Name of the Dooms­day Book) which discovering the secrets of their Estates, left them under strange apprehensions of ensuing Oppression and Tyranny; however, it was no otherwise intended, then as an Instrument to confirm his own, by establishing their Rights and Proprieties, which having been before un­der a very uncertain Title, and very odly qualified (the Tenures of That is, by Charter or Writing. Boke­land, which they call'd Freehold, belonging only to the Nobility, being perchance no better then the ancient Fifes that depended on the Will of the first Donors) he made absolute and hereditary. The Tenure of Or the Land of the common Fo [...]k. Folk­land (which was without Writing, and so much worse then Tenants at Will at this day, that we need not doubt to call it Villenage) he chang'd into Estates for Life, which have since shew'd us the way to those in Tail: nei­ther [Page 199] did he clog their Estates with many Taxes (however reputed very ava­ricious) but found out many witty sleights to avoid the necessity of Land Taxes, as knowing how clamorous and burthensome they are, laying only that of Escuage upon them, which yet was done by way of composi­tion rather then imposition; in lieu of which he took off that of Danegelt, which was sufficient, one would have thought, to have abated the Grievance.

Yet such was their Obstinacy, Ingratitude, or Disdain, that they never ceas'd to plot or practise Treason against him, giving him renew'd Jealou­sies from their successive, and like to prove successful Conspiracies, which as great Waves, came thick upon the back of one another, never breaking, but with so apparent danger, as threatned him with a wreck in Port, after his escape of all the storms at Sea: First Edric the Forrester incouraged by the Welch; after Edwin and Morcar, Brothers to the late Queen, incourag'd by the Scots, thinking their splendor eclipsed by the interposition of so many stranger Princes, as waited daily in his Court, flew to Arms, and drew many after them of the Lay Nobility; whilst the two Arch-bishops who followed them, were attended by as strong a Party of the Clergy; the first pretended to make the war legal, the last to render it meritorious: and whiles he set himself to suppress this danger in the North, a new Rebellion presented it self in the West: The Citizens of Exeter and those of Oxford, incourag'd by the report of new Forces brought out of Ireland by the Sons of Harold, not only shut up their Gates, but perswaded the Countries also round about to expostulate their Liberties, with Swords in their hands: and whilst he turns to these, they of the North are reinforc'd again by the arrival of two Sons of Swain King of Denmark, with a Fleet of no less then 300 Sail: and whilst he sent another Party to confront these, there rose a storm behind them out of the Isle of Ely: and after all this, the wide distent of these Tumors (fed from many secret Veins) swell'd up into a general Combination of all the Neighbour Princes together: so that no less then six Kings drew upon him at once; the King of France, who had 100000 men in readiness to invade him in Normandy; the King of Denmark, who had pre­par'd a Navy of 1600 Sail to invade him by Sea; the King of Ireland, who appeared with 65 Sail more to second him; and the Kings of Scotland and Wales opening their Ports to let them in: This, though it made the danger seem so much the more considerable, by how much it was scarce to be pre­vented, without such a vast Expence of Treasure and Blood, as might ha­zard an irrecoverable Consumption, if not put him again to the winning of England; yet the resolutions of his great Mind being prae-ordain'd for the great work he had undertaken, he shew'd no manner of Consternation at all: till at last a way was found to bring himself against himself, by setting up his eldest Son Robert, to disseize him of the Dutchy of Normandy with­out any colour of Right. This Rebellion indeed was so much the more grievous to him, because unnatural, and therefore the only one he thought fit to repress by the Authority of his own Presence: wherein he proceed­ed not as one that went to take revenge upon an Enemy, or reduce a Re­bel, but as he ought to chastize an undutiful Son, proceeding however with that calmness, as if he designed to defeat his Enterprize, and not him; or in truth rather to surprize then subdue him, casting about how he might make him more asham'd then afraid, not doubting, but (like Caesar) to o­vercome him as soon as he came over to him; but such was the malignity of his Stars, as to make his Son a double Conqueror over him: first in com­manding his life, which shew'd his Power, then in giving it back again to him, which shew'd his Piety: but this, as it was too great a Gift to be ac­knowledged [Page 200] or forgotten; so he receiv'd it with such inward indignation as shew'd he only pardon'd what he could not punish: But it appear'd af­terwards that it was not in the young Rebels power to give back the life he had proceeded so near taking away, for the wound in his Spirit was so much deeper then any of those on his Body, that it could never be cured, howe­ver skin'd over, bleeding inwardly unperceiv'd till he died; which how­ever it were not long after, yet he out liv'd most of those great men that were Actors with him in his Undertakings, and left not the world till he had sufficiently requited the King of France for this unpardonable injury of seducing his Son, taking a slight occasion from a Jest, to shew how much he was in Earnest in his Revenge. For that King having scoffed at his great Belly, saying, That he lay in when he was sick at Roan; he return'd him word, That he should have notice of his Upsitting by the many Bonefires he would make in the heart of his Country. Neither was he worse then his Promise, for he depopulated all the Towns of note that lay in his way, till he came to Mants; in the destruction of which goodly City he got his own, the Ream of his Belly being broke (as 'tis thought) by a sudden leap of his Horse, frighted at the sight of the Conflagrations) as he passed by the burning Ru­ins. Thus ended this great Conqueror, and with him all his Greatness, being left by all the World almost as soon as he left it; not only by those to whom he had given a livelyhood, but by those to whom he had given life, every one of them forsaking him, to scramble for what he left: his eldest Son hastned away to take possession of his Dutchy of Normandy; his second Son to Invest himself in his Kingdom of England; only he to whom providentially he had left no home, was the man stayed to bring him to his long home; which yet could not be done without much disaster and in­terruption: for as 'twas three dayes before his Body was mov'd from the place where he dyed, so 'twas twice three before his Son Henry could get any to undertake the conveying it to Cane, where 'twas to be buried: af­ter it came there, 'twas left the second time alone in the street by those that carried it, who took occasion, it seems, to run all away to quench a Fire that broke out of a House by which they were to pass; and being with all this ado brought afterward to his Grave, one stept forth and forbid the In­terment, till they compounded for the Ground he was to be buried in. Thus like that great Conqueror, who thought the World too little to contain him whilst he liv'd, but being dead could scarce obtain so much Earth as to cover his naked Corps; it was accounted no small part of his, as of the others happiness, that he met with a Grave at last.

A little Dormitory, it seems, sufficed; and well had it been if it had not proved too little: for being streightned so much that they were fain to com­press his Body in letting it in, they thereby let out such a stanch, as made every Body leave him again the third time: so that it was not known who covered the Corps with Earth, at least it was better known who uncove­red it: the frowardness of his Destiny being such, that it would not per­mit this to be the last indignity offer'd to him, but as if it had been decreed in Heaven, that he who disturb'd so many living, should himself have no rest in death; his Bones, 100 years after he was buried, were taken up and cast into the Streets, by certain dissolute Souldiers, that in the year 1562. rifled his Tomb, in hopes of finding Treasure, with like Avarice as he before had rifled all his Neighbours Countries, in hopes of finding Glory.

WILLI­AM II. date of accession 1087

[Attributed coat of arms of King William II: gules, two lions passant guardant in pale or.]

THE Conqueror having three Sons, and but two Principalities, took such care in framing his Will, that each might have cause to acknow­ledge his Bounty, if not con­fess his Justice: To Robert, the first-born, whilst he was a Duke, he left his Dutchy: To this William the second (who yet was the third Son) but eldest born after he was King, he gave his Kingdom, thinking it most fit to joyn the honour of his Conquest to that of his Name: to Henry the youngest, he gave a good Sword and a good Purse; with the first to defend himself against his Enemies, with the last against his Friends; either of them good Earnests for a Scep­ter, expectant upon the death of either of his Brothers, and of good use to him whilst they were living; for with the first he might cut all the knots that he found at any time to be intangled beyond hope of untying; and with the last turn the Scale, as oft as he perceiv'd Might to overcome Right: And to say truth, he did so well manage either, keeping the unequal Interests of his two potent Brothers evenly pois'd, that neither being able to get much the better of other, himself got the better of both; and without a Title to eithers, became at last Lord (as his Father prophecy'd) of both their Estates.

These three brave Sons standing thus, as it were in a Triangle, at the death of their Father, equidistant one from the other, without any visible dispro­portion in Power, Parts, or Reputation: the first representing him as he was a King, the other as Duke, and the third as Conqueror, which made them alike Obstinate, Ambitious, and Emulous of each others Glory, 'tis no marvel that the Feuds betwixt themselves only took up all the action of their time, and left no room for any other Competitors to come in betwixt them: But that which seems more rare, is the vicissitude of their love and hate, each of them, as his squint-eyed interest mov'd him to change his ground, retaining still the affections of a Brother, even whilst he acted as an Enemy. For first the younger assisted the elder against the middle Bro­ther; then the middle compounded with the elder, to be reveng'd on the younger Brother; after this again the younger reconciles himself to his middle Brother in order to obtaining satisfaction from the elder, who after this agreed with the middle (as he before with him) to fall both upon the younger Brother; in the last place they all united and agreed but upon such terms, that their Union set them worse at variance then before; so that every one of them stood off, and acted singly for himself, each against other, and each against two: In conclusion, the elder was dispossess'd by the mid­dle Brother, and he forc'd by death to yield up all to the younger; and so they inherited their Fathers Lands, he only his Fortune; but all were a­like [Page 202] Inheritors of his Troubles, who has this Remark upon him, That he never had rest living or dead; his Bones being divided, as well as his Children; each part of his Dominions claiming a share of them, as each of his Sons of these.

Having viewed them thus together, let us look upon this King single; who, however he is drawn but with an half face, like one of the Caesar's, ap­pears to have been the most like his Father of all the Brothers, there being no other difference betwixt them but this, that the one was alwayes a Con­queror, t'other never conquer'd: For as he had his Fathers Courage to in­counter Dangers, so he had his wisdom and readiness of mind to extricate himself out of them, and ever fell like a Cube upon his bottom, let For­tune hurl him whither she would, making his Enemies glad to be his Friends, when all the Friends he had, almost were become his Enemies; standing so firmly, even whiles he was forced to take in the points of as many Swords as had been before drawn upon his Father, that nothing could move him. The first that set upon him was his Brother Robert, who (as if a­fraid to look him in the face) tamper'd with those nearest in Trust about him, to wound him in the back, before he came to close grapple with him; or rather tried, if possible, to spring a Mine under his Throne, whilst he began his Battery at farther distance: Principal Engineer in this Plot was his discontented Uncle Odo Bishop of Bayeulx, who designing to ob­lige both Normans and English to conspire with him, took in the first by declaring to set up their beloved Duke Robert for life; and deceived the last by promising to settle the Reversion of the Soveraignty on their Darling Prince Edgar, whom therefore he put into the hands of Duke Robert, for the Security (as he pretended) of both: Robert receiving him as his Ho­mager, and Edgar looking on him as his Protector; whilst Odo pleas'd him­self with having both within his own reach, whenever he saw cause to de­clare for himself.

This Storm spread it self very wide; for Odo fortify'd in Kent, where he might be assisted by the King of France if need were: William Bishop of Durham ingaged all the Northern Countries, where they might expect help from the King of Scots: others secur'd Herefordshire, Shropshire, and Wor­cestershire, where they might readily have aid from the Welch; whilst Roger Mountgomery rais'd up Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire, and Hugh de Grandmenill led up those of Leicestershire and Northamptonshire to face him. This as it was the best formed, so it was the most formidable Rebellion we meet with in all our Story, founded on such sure grounds, and managed by such sure men, that King Williams Councel could not tell where to begin, nor whither to turn them: but he himself being as quick of apprehension as of action, takes the measure of his hopes from that of their fears, and whilst they judg'd it hard to repress them, because they were thus divided, he took that advantage to break them like single sticks, as he found them lye scatter'd one from the other; who, had they been united under one Bond, could not have been so easily confounded. After which he heal'd the wounds he gave them, by gentle Lenitives, relaxing their Tributes, remitting their Priviledges, and indulging them to that degree, as never any King before him did; by which means he prevail'd with the very same men to carry the War into Normandy, whereby wounding his Brother Robert with the very Arrows taken out of his own Quiver, and the same which he had directed against him, it appears how much he had the better of him in point of Un­derstanding, as well as of Power. This breach with the elder, gave him the first occasion of breaking with his younger Brother; for having a strong [Page 203] Army on foot, Duke Robert after his having concluded a dishonourable Peace with him, desir'd his aid in reducing the Castle of Mount St. Michael, detain'd from him by Prince Henry, who being not paid the money he had lent him to carry on the War against King William (for Robert had pawn'd to him the Country of Constantine, but afterwards took it away again) seiz'd upon this Castle, in hope, by the help of some Britains he had hired to serve him for his Money, to have done himself right: but Robert made this advantage of the dis-advantage King William had brought upon him, to ingage him in reducing t'other unhappy Prince, that doing a kindness to one, lost both his Brothers; the one taking offence at his demand, t'other at the Occasion; whereby both set upon him at once, and besieging him forty dayes, brought him to the point of yeilding: but the same evil Spirit that first divided them to do more mischief, did this good to unite them again, working upon the good Nature of Duke Robert, and the ill Nature of King William, the same effect: for upon his Submission, William to be revenged on Robert, for having entertain'd his Competitor Atheling, judg'd Henry to be satisfied his Debt by a day certain, out of those very Lands which the other had assign'd to Atheling for a Pension; upon which Robert's pity turn'd immediately into spight, and when Henry came for his Money, he clap'd him up in Prison, and kept him in Duress till he releas'd the Debt.

Henry complaining of this Injustice to the King of France (his Brother William being then return'd into England) was by him put into Arms again; and by the surprizing the Castle of Damfront, recover'd back most of his Security, with all the Country of Passais besides. Robert hereupon pleads that King William had fail'd of paying him in certain Sums of Money, due by promise to satisfie Henry, and that by reason of this failure he could not perform with him; and to satisfie himself for the Damages done him by this pretended breach of Williams, he fell upon King William's Castles: This drew him over the second time, whether to right Prince Henry or himself, was not declar'd; who putting on a Vizard of Indignation to a­fright Duke Robert, as if he had intended nothing less then the Conquest of all Normandy, sends back into England for an Army of 30000 to joyn with those Forces he had there; by the fame whereof having done more then perhaps any body could with the men themselves, if they had arriv'd, he sent private Orders to his General, being then at the Water-side, to dismiss every man that would lay down ten shillings: by which queint trick of State, never practised before, he rais'd so great a Sum, as not only serv'd to pay the King of France his Bribe, for not assisting his Brother Robert, and to defray his own present charge, but in effect to purchase all Norman­dy, which thereupon was Mortgaged to him by Robert, to furnish himself for that great Expedition of recovering the Holy Land from the Infidels: An Undertaking politickly recommended by Urban the Second, to all such Princes as he fear'd, or had a mind to fool, as so meritorious a work, that it was indeed (as he represented the matter) a kind of taking Heaven by Vio­lence, whereby he so wrought upon the easie Faith of that Active and Ig­norant Age, that without any great difficulty he prevail'd with them to cast themselves under a voluntary Ostracisme, whilst himself, and those that were Parties in that holy Cheat (imbarazed in a Contest with the Emperor about Superiority) were deliver'd from the men of Power and Credit they most suspected to take part with him; and by the purchase of their Estates and Seigniories, greatly inriched the Church af erward.

King William thus happily rid of his elder Brother (who as I said before had pawn'd his own Land, to recover that for the Church) was at leisure to [Page 204] return home to make even all reckonings with his elder Enemy the King of Scots, by whose death and his Sons (both kill'd in the act of Invasion) he made himself so far Master of their Country, as to compel them to accept a King from him, who having serv'd him in his Wars, and being for that Ser­vice prefer'd by him, they durst not yet refuse, though they might reasona­bly expect he would be alwayes at his Devotion. This made the King of France so jealous of his growing Greatness, that to prevent his coming over Sea again, he tamper'd with the discontented Norman Nobility to set up Stephen E. of Albemarle, his Fathers Sisters Son, upon what pretence of Right appears not, but he whose manner 'twas to meet danger, and not tarry till it found him out, prevented the Conspiracy by seizing on the chief Con­spirators, Mowbray, d'Ou, and d'Alveric, who being the first Examples of his Severity, were so cruelly treated, that if any men could be said to be murther'd by the Sword of Justice they were; but the Ill of this Severity had that good effect, that this first Instance of his Cruelty made it the last occasion to him to shew it, so that from that time all War ceasing, he betook himself to the pleasures of Peace.

And now deeming himself most secure, he met with an unavoidable (I cannot say unexpected) Fate, for, like Caesar his Parallel, he had sufficient warning of it both by his own and his Friends Dreams the night before; the Nature whereof was such as he could not but contemn it, because he could not understand it; and having never been daunted by his Enemies, he was asham'd to seem now afraid of himself: however, the perplexity of his thoughts disorder'd him so far, that in despight of his natural Courage (which was perhaps as great as ever any mans was) he could not find in his heart to go out all the morning of that day he was kill'd: and at Dinner (which argued some failure of his Spirits) he drank more freely then his usual custome was, that accelerated his Fate by taking off his Caution: so that after Dinner he would needs go hunt in the New Forrest, and taking his Bow to shoot a Deer in that ominous place, where before a His Brother Richard. Brother and a The Son of Robert Duke of Normandy his elder Bro­th r. Brothers Son of his had both met with violent Deaths; Tyrel his Bow-bearer being plac'd right against him, as the best Marks-man, let fly an Ar­row, that glancing against a Bough, miss'd the Deer, and found out him;

HEN­RY I. date of accession 1100

[Attributed coat of arms of King Henry I: gules, two lions passant guardant in pale or.]

IT was observ'd, that there was something in the Fate of this King, as well as in his Edu­cation, that had fitted him for Majesty, long before Majesty was fitted for him: For be­sides that he had the reputati­on of being a good Scholar, and a good Sword-man, which spoke his Wit and his Courage, and made every body conclude he would be as fortunate as for­ward, he had no small advan­tage, by that which is com­monly a loss to other Princes, to wit, his Juniority; whilst being born after his Father was King in England, he not only intitled himself to the possessi­on of the Soil, as his Native Country, but to the affections of the People, as their Coun­try-man, who therefore was to be prefer'd before a Stran­ger: and being fortunately up­on the place, at the time of the unfortunate death of his Brother William, could not but be more ac­ceptable then one so far distant out of sight as his Brother Robert: Nei­ther was he slow in taking his advantage, finding his way made plain, and prepar'd by a more then ordinary respect of the superstitious Rabble, up­on the accompt of a Prophesie his Father utter'd on his Death-bed (the time when men are most inspired, and their words (as being their last) the most regarded) who observing him discontented; because his Portion was much less than that of either of his Brothers, and that only a transitory Estate in Mony, without House or Land; said to him, Harry be content, Robert must have Normandy, and Will England, but thou in due time wilt have both. Which considered, as it prae-occupated the Op [...]nion of the Vulgar, so the Judicious were so apt to believe it, that the bare possession of England sufficiently intitled him to Normandy of course: and to confirm their Expectations, he caus'd it to be bruited abroad that Duke Robert had no intention to return out of Palestine, but tarried to be made King of Jerusalem.

Being thus quietly stated, he sweetned his Government by taking off all Taxes, to shew his Beneficence; and some of the principal Taxers, to shew his Justice: By the first he pleas'd the Multitude, in point of Relief; by the other the better sort, in point of Envy and Revenge; gratifying their Spleen, by sacrificing the griping Bishop of Durham; a man, who being rais'd from a base Condition by baser means, had attained to the honour of being Chief Minister to his Brother King William, and was grown learn'd in the Science of selling Justice; by the distribution of whose Bribes, he brib'd those whom he thought fit to make his own Ministers: neither thought it he enough to be an English man himself, without assuring the [Page 206] State that he intended all his Posterity should be so too: and therefore, to the end to make sure the wise men, that were as apt to be jealous, as the weaker sort to be querulous, he married Maud, Sister to the Scotch King, and Daughter to Margaret, Sister to Edgar Atheling, the right Heir of the English Blood: a Lady that brought him an Inheritance of Goodness from her Mother, and a good Title of Inheritance from her Uncle.

Thus firmly did he intrench himself before his Brother (whom he had made a King in fame only, that he might the easier make himself a real one) return'd home; who arriving unlook'd for, was welcom'd by the Nobili­ty of Normandy with more then ordinary Joy: by whom being inform'd of what was done in England, he made it the business of the first year, to pro­vide an Army, and in the second landed it at Portsmouth, in order to the recovery of his lost Right: whereof he was the more assur'd, in respect of those of the Norman Nobility here, as he thought inclin'd to him, who mov'd with revenge or discontent, would be glad of any Occasion to Re­volt: This, as it was a storm King Henry saw at a distance, so he provi­ded so well for it, by cutting off all Assistances, that Duke Robert and those with him, doubting the success, and seeing themselves certainly lost, if they prevail'd not (it being in his power to fight them where he pleas'd, and when) upon his desire to save the effusion of Christian Blood, yielded to Articles of Peace; the Substance whereof was this, That Henry being born after his Father was rightfully King, and being now invested in the Crown by act of the Kingdom, should enjoy the same during life, and pay Robert 3000 Marks per Annum, as an Earnest of the Reversion after his Death, in case Robert out-liv'd him.

With these Conditions Robert rather blinded then satisfied, returns back again into his own Country; and it had been well if he had never been blind­ed otherwise: But such is the frenzie of Ambition, that it suffers not un­happy Princes to consider either what they ought to do, or what to suffer, whilst like the Superior Orbs, they are hurried with restless Motion, with­out understanding by what Intelligences they are actuated. Finding himself fallen from the height of his Expectation, into some degree of Contempt with his own Subjects, he assai'd by Profusion (which some call Liberali­ty) to raise his Reputation, at least to disguise his Impotency, spending so freely, that the Nobility fearing the Revenues of the Dutchy would not suffice to support his vanity, complain'd thereof to King Henry; who, to shew his own power and t'others weakness, sent for him over to chide him, and indeed reprehended him so sharply, as if he had been his Father, and not his Brother; and as if he would have him to know, he rather expected the Reversion of the Dukedome after his death, then to be accomptable to him for the Kingdom after his own: and whether it were that he threat­ned him with a Detention of his Pension, or drew him, being of a yielding Nature (as most indigent men are) to give him a release for some inconside­rable Sum of ready Mony, is not certain: but so it was, that upon his re­turn, he could no longer conceal the indignation he had conceived at it, but took the very first Occasion to shew it by joyning himself with some mutinous Lords, who having before begun an unsuccessful Combustion in England, had fled over thither, to commit what Outrages they could there.

King Henry for a while pretended himself touch'd in Conscience with the foulness of a Fraternal War, but was indeed apprehensive that such tri­vial Injuries, as the taking a few Castles, was not worthy the trouble of drawing him over in Person, at least not worth the charge of entring into [Page 207] such a War as might justifie the requiring his Dukedom for a satisfaction; but having let them alone till he believ'd his sufferance had elevated them beyond the temper of hearkning to any conditions, he then took his time to chastise their folly, and by one single Battle, upon the very same day, and in the very same manner (as 'tis reported) that his Father just forty years before won England, he won Normandy: and having made his bro­ther prisoner, depriv'd him first of his liberty, after of his country, and lastly of that which was dearer than either, the light of his Eyes; requi­ting his attempt (which was but natural) to escape out of prison, with a punishment that was of all other most unnatural, and as much beyond death, as it was short of it; which inhumanity to his brother, though it was perhaps but a just judgment from Heaven upon him for his inhumanity to his Father, whose life he had twice attempted, being wilfully blinded by the King of France; yet 'twas such as was altogether undeserv'd, as from him: for t'other had him fast enough within his power, circumscrib'd by all the rules of Hostility, besieged within a Fort, and half starv'd; he was so far from pressing upon him, that he pittied him, and broke with his brother Friend to save his brother Enemy.

Poor Prince Robert, how was he betraied by the goodness of his own Nature, and tempted like a Child to save the bird which was to pick out his Eyes? How did he live to see himself buried before he was dead? invelop'd in dark and dismal thoughts, whilst he contemplated his Sons loss with more affliction than his own: a forward Prince born to two Crowns, but now reduc'd to that necessity to borrow one to buy him bread. So long as it serv'd the King of France his turn to serve him, he en­tertain'd him in that Court (adversity knows no other Friends, nor upon other Terms:) But King Henry by his mony quickly took him off; and Heaven to requite the good turn not long after took off him, for whom all this was done; punishing his unjust detaining the livelihood of his inno­cent Nephew William, with taking away the life of his own innocent Son William, the only hope of his Family, who being shipwrackt in his re­turn out of Normandy with a hundred and fifty Passengers more, amongst whom was his beloved Sister the Countess of Perch, indeavouring to save her, lost himself.

This Clap of Judgment coming in a Calm of glory, when all the bu­sling of his Ambition seem'd to be pass'd over, so overwhelm'd the Joys of his past successes, that as if his Conscience had shrunk at the horror of seeing his oppression and supplantation so repaid, with the ex­tinction of that for which he drew all this guilt upon himself; 'tis said that from that time he never was seen to laugh more: and however he strugled with Destiny for more Issue Male, marrying not long after a most vertuous and beautiful young Lady, yet all was in vain: The invenom'd Arrow stuck still in his Liver, and for want of other Heirs, he was forced to fasten the succession on his Daughter Maud, who being intangled in his fate, and as apparently Planet-struck as himself, could never attain to be a Queen, however a Dutchess, and an Empress; being disappoin­ted by one, that had less right, and not so good pretence, as her own Father. And as the main Line of Normandy fail'd in him, that was but the third Inheritor, so the succession ever since proved so brittle, that it ne­ver held to the third Heir in a right descent, without being put by, or re­ceiving some alteration by usurpation, or extinction of the Male blood, which (saith mine Author) may teach Princes to let men alone with their Rights, and God with his Providence.

But such is the unhappiness of Kings that they either understand not Destiny so well as private Men, or cannot so readily submit to it, and as Ambition is a restless passion, which however it may be sometimes weary, never tires; so it urges them to be still pressing upon Fortune with hopes to compel or corrupt her; hoping that if she will not be serviceable to them, she may at least not oppose them. He found that this rent at home had crack'd all the chain of his courses in France (whose King took part with his Nephew William) whilst his two great Friends, Foulk Earl of An­jou, and Robert Earl of Mellent declared against him. Yet urg'd by his natural diligence or desire of Rule he could not but still push on, till by the death of that unfortunate youth before mention'd, all the hopes of his Brother Robert perished, and came to be entirely his: yet neither then could he take any Rest, though he had no body to give him any disquiet, his Conscience keeping him waking with continual Alarums, without any kind of sleep but what was so disturbed and disorderly, as declar'd to the whole World all was not well within. Often did he rise out of his Bed in the Night, and catching up his Sword put himself into a Posture of De­fence as against some Personal assault: and sometimes in company he would catch hold of his Servants hands, as apprehending they were about to draw upon him. Thus was he dog'd with continued fears, and those such as per­haps were Prophetical of what follow'd: that some body should start up (as immediately after there did) who taking Example from himself, should Spurn his ashes, and usurp as much upon his Innocent Daughter and her Son, as he himself had done upon his innocent Brother and his Son.

STE­PHEN date of accession 1135

[Attributed coat of arms of King Stephen: gules, a sagittarius or shooting with a bow and arrow.]

SUCH is the Curse of U­surpation that the bold­ness of one commonly makes way for another Intruder. No sooner hath Henry (who took place of his elder Brother) quit the Throne, but this Ste­phen his Sisters Son, without Consideration of his Elder Brother, Theobald Earl of Blois the supposed Heir, or the Em­press Maud the declar'd Heir, the first before him by a na­tural, the last by a Judicial Right, and that to which him­self had sworn; slept up to fill the place as Heir to the People: and it happen'd so, that bold­ness in this Case gave him a bet­ter Title than blood; the Con­test being betwixt him, who being a stranger was become a native, and her who being a native was become a stranger: for to say truth the People did not so much elect him as reject her, and that for divers Reasons. 1. For the defect of her Sex, the English being no more willing to tie their Crown to a Distaff than the French, though it were not forbid by any pretended Law. 2. For the change of her Interest, being twice married to Aliens, to whom she was so subject as to become her self one. 3. Out of dislike of her Temper, being very proud and implacable, and which spoke her to be King Henry's own Daughter, very covetous and griping; and had there not been such objections against her, yet there were Reasons enough to justifie the wisdom of the State in the preference of this Stephen. 1. In respect of his Person, as being nobly descended, rich, bold, wise, and magnificent: 2. In respect to his Allies, as being Brother to two Princes, the eldest a Man of so great possessions and power abroad, that he thought the Crown here scarce worth the fetch­ing, at least not worth the contesting for; the younger very popular and potent here at home, who being Bishop of Winchester, and the Pope's Le­gate was ready to undertake betwixt God and the people; for whatever his Brother Stephen ingaged to either by his Coronation Oath. 3. 'Twas not the least reason that if they took not him they knew not where to find another of the Blood, so fit for the Trust of his elder Brother (as I obser­ved before) being so indifferent in the point, that he chose rather to accept a Pension which look'd more like a New-years-gift than the price of a Scepter. 4. And lastly, the obligation laid on him was thought to be so much the stronger, by how much his Title was the weaker; there being a Debitum Beneficentiae, or particular Tie of Gratitude to bind him to them, which those that presume on hereditary succession seldom or never own; wherein they were not deceiv'd, for his performances exceeded his promi­ses so much, that he may be said to purchase what they gave, buying then Love and fidelity by the Relaxation of his Taxes, and the Grant of many [Page 210] Privileges and Immunities, which none of his Predecessors could be brought to part with; this Bounty of his being joyn'd with that Modera­tion, that not only his Friends, but many his Adversaries were per­swaded to acknowledg him: insomuch that the King of France his greatest, David King of Scots his nearest, and even Geoffry Earl of Anjus his most inveterate Enemy; the first being Cousin German, the second Uncle, and the third Husband to her that had the competition with him, came all in, and closed upon such Terms with him, that they quit all their former pre­tensions, and left the unfortunate Lady to trie for her self; who though she had no other ground to hope she might get the better of him in publick, but that she had (if she were not bely'd) worsted him oftentimes before in pri­vate, yet her resolutions were so well fixed, that she set upon him single. How­ever guarded as well as Power, Policy, and a great Purse could do it, having not above a hundred and fifty Persons in her Train at her first landing, and believing she had matter enough prepared to see their whole Kingdom in a flame (the Castles of Bristow, Hereford, Ludlow, Shrewsbury &c. declaring for her) in that Confidence she began a War, which for the variety of suc­cess, revolts, surprizings, and recourrings is not less pleasant in the relation than it was perplex'd in the Action.

The Breach at which she first entred was made by King Stephen himself, who foreseeing the approaching mischief, drew on the evil he would avoid by the same way he thought to prevent it: for suspecting the Castles he had permitted to be new built, with purpose to have broken the force of any over-running Invasion, might now as well become receptacles to the ad­verse Party; he commanded them to be deliver'd up into his hands for se­curing the publick Peace. This begat a general murmure, that a dispute a­mong the proprietors, whereof those of most note being Clergy-men, and Lords of great power and stomach, presuming upon the Obligation he had to the Church, which (as they said) advanced him to the Crown without any military help, refus'd so give up their Keys into the hands of Laymen, upon whom as they thought he had not the like tie of honour nor honesty as upon themselves. Hereupon the Legate interpos'd, who holding himself nearer allied to his Brother Prelates than to his Brother King, urg'd the question of priviledg so far, that 'twas thought there wanted nothing but an opportunity to shew they could more willingly quit their Allegiance (as they had done their Liberty) than their possessions: for King Stephen up­on their refusal to obey his Order, clapt up several of them in prison. This opportunity Maud by her arrival rather gave than took, when she made up the Crie, and joyn'd her claim with theirs, and thereby made the War to be felt before it was perceiv'd: which spread it self like a burning Feaver through all the veins of the body politick, but raged by Fits only; it so happening that they were not seldom parted by the said new built Castles they contested for; many of which standing neuter give stops to their Fury, as if intended by Providence to allay their heat till it were tempe­rate enough to admit of some Parley: but that proving ineffectual, like Game-cocks, aftertaking breath they fell to it afresh with equal force and equal confidence, the whole Nation being divided betwixt them according to their several interest for affections, some taking part with her, others with him; these to discharge their Consciences, those their honour, some to ad­vance their fortunes, others to secure their advancements.

King Stephen gave every where proof of his courage; she of her wisdom; both of their diligence; either perhaps worthy a greater Empire than they contended for; but whilst the Body politick thus miserably tormented [Page 211] with the convulsions of Might and Right languish'd under the growing distemper, behold a sudden change which seem'd the more mortal, for that the grief seiz'd upon the head: The King is taken prisoner, with whose li­berty one would have thought all the hopes of that side had been lost; but it so hapned that the Feminine Victor found herself ingag'd in a more e­qual Contest with one of her own Sex, and as of the same spirit, so of the same name. King Stephen's Wife takes up the Sword whilst her husband continues a prisoner, who not looking that Fortune should fall into her lap, was so industrious to catch it, and heading her husbands Forces, she brought the Title to a second trial with so much better success than he, that the victorious Empress was forc'd to give place to the more victorious Queen, and so hardly escaped that to save her life she was content to be reckon'd amongst the dead, being carried off in a Coffin as if she had been kill'd, and so forc'd to leave him a prisoner behind, that was indeed the life of her Cause, the Earl of Gloucester her Brother, and her General, whose liberty being set against that of the Kings, both sides became even again in the list of their fatal Contention.

And now the Kings Party labours to recover what they had lost: those of the Empress her Faction strove only to keep what they had gain'd, till both having tired out and almost baffled the Courage of their partakers at home sought for recruits abroad: Maud sends into Normandy, the King into Flanders; each side seems to fright from this time forward, not so much for Victory as Revenge. But whilst they fright the people with a noise of their great preparations the bubble of expectation (swollen to its full height) broak, and the hopes of either side sunk so low by the death of Prince Eustace Son and Heir to the King, and that of the Earl of Gloucester the on­ly pillar which supported the Empress; this the party by whom, that the party for whom the War was first begun, not to say miantain'd, that they concluded a Peace for want of strength rather than of stomach, all things ending as they began, by determination of the free vote of the people; who in an open Parliament at Winchester parted the Stakes as evenly as they could, giving to King Stephen the Crown during life, to Henry Son of Maud (and as some think by him) the reversion expectant after his death, who if he were not his Natural was thereupon made his adopted Son: and so end­ed the troubles of this King, which seem to have been so agreeable to his na­ture that as soon as they ceased, he ceased to live; surviving the War no longer than just to take leave of his Friends, being evicted by an Ejectione firmâ brought against him by Fate to let in the Son of his Enemy, after he had held the possession (notwitstanding the continual Interruption given him) nineteen years with great prosperity though little or no peace: wit­ness those many works of Piety done by himsel or others in his time, there being more Instances of that Nature during his short Raign, than had been in many years before.

HENRY II. date of accession 1155

[coat of arms of King Henry II: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

KING Stephen being dead who was the worthi'st, this Henry succeeded who was the greatest King this Nation ever knew: for he was in the Right of his Father Earl of Anjou, in Right of his Mother Duke of Normandy and Britain, in the Right of his Wife Duke of Gui­en and Acquitaine, Earl of Tou­raine, Tholosse and Poictou, and now in his own Right King of England, and not long after by Right of Conquest, absolute Lord of Ireland. He was a Prince whose Dominions were so e­qually divided by the Sea, that it may be said to have run as a great River betwixt them; his Possessions on the other side of the Water being so great, that the State here doubted nothing so much as that he might prove too mighty a Master at home, and the next Scruple was which side he would make his home; it being in his own choice whether he would carry England thither, or bring those mighty States hither: wherein he carried himself so indifferently, that receiving the News of King Stephen's death, at the Siege of a Castle the French had taken from him, he declar'd he would not move away till he had recover'd it back again; neither was he worse than his word though they tried him Six weeks, before they yielded it up: a longer time than might have been convenient to have defer'd his Claim here, had he not been (as he was) high and presuming that King Stephen had tired out all the stirring and turbulent spirits, and that he was neither unexpected nor undesir'd.

He was the first King of the Plantaginets, and began his Raign, as the Great Solomon (who was near about his Age) did his, with the choice of wise Coun­cellors, to take off all objections against his youth; with the expulsion of all Strangers, to take off all objections against his being a forrainer; with the re­sumption of all aliened Crown Lands, to take of the fear as well as the ne­cessity of Taxes: which as it increas'd his reputation no less than his reve­nue, so he pleas'd many with disgusting but a few. After this he pluck'd down all those Castles which being erected by King Stephen's permission, had proved the nurseries of the late rebellion, and he did it with the less cla­mour, in respect the people thought it contributed as much to their quiet, as to his own. Lastly by expelling those false Lords, that contrary to their oath given to his Mother, took part with the Usurper Stephen, he at once satis­fi'd his Revenge, and confirm'd the opinion conceiv'd of his Justice and Piety.

Thus having got the start in point of honour, as well as of Riches, of all the neighbour Princes his Contemporaries; one would have thought so pros­perous a beginning must have concluded with as prosperous an ending: but it sell out quite otherwise; for to the rest of his Greatness was added that of having great troubles, and troubles of that durance as ended not [Page 213] but with his life. Nor could it well be otherwise, for he was of a restless spirit, seldome without an Army, seldomer without an Enemy, but never without an Occasion to provoke one; for he was a great ingrosser of glory, whereby being necessitated to set himself against every one, every one set themselves against him: and the confederations against him were so well timed that in one day they invaded him in England, Normandy, Acquitain, and Britain: but that which made his unhappiness seem singular was, that the greatest part of his Enemies were those of his greatest Friends; I mean not such as were of remoter relations, as subjects, servants, confede­rates, or allies, &c. but those of nearest propinquity; his brother, his wife, his own children, such as were flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bone: so that he could not possibly sight for himself without fighting against him­self; like those who to preserve life are constrain'd to dismember them­selves: wherein the malice of his Fate seem'd to exceed that of his Foes, whiles it drew more cross lines over his Actions than Nature had drawn over his Face; rendring all his undertakings so disasterous, that even when he had the best on't, he seem'd yet to have the worst on it, and lost his honour though he got his enterprize. Thus when he recover'd the Earldome of Northumberland from David King of Scots, and the Dukedom of Anjou from his brother Geoffry, the first by the power of his Wisdom, the last by the wise management of his power (both which contests ended not without giving to each of them full satisfaction for their pretentions) yet one brought upon him the clamor of injustice, t'other the scandal of Ava­rice: two vices ill beseeming any man, worse a King. So in the dispute he had with the Earl of St. Giles about the County of Tholosse, which was his Right, though t'others Possession, he was fain to ask peace of one that he knew was unable to carry on the War; and after he brought him to his own terms, was himself so hamper'd with the same Fetters he put upon him, that in conclusion he suffer'd no less in the opinion of his wisdom than he had before in that of his power. So when he married his Son Henry to the daughter of his great Enemy, the King of France, with a prudent de­sign of being reconcil'd to him in a nearer combination, he found that in­stead of keeping him out of his Territories (which was all he had to care for before the Match) he had now let him into his House, to do him more mischief with less difficulty (there being more danger by his undermining than battering) whiles himself permitted the pit to be made in which the foundation of his Sons greatness was to be laid; to whom having given too early an expectation of his Kingdom (by allowing him the title of King) without being able to give him the Grace to tarry for his death, he found (when 'twas too late) that a Crown was no estate to be made over in Trust: yet this he did not by chance, neither as one transported by any Fatherly fondness, but out of a provident care to settle the Succession, and as rea­sonably to fix his Sons Ambition. Neither was his severity to his younger Sons less fatal to him than his indulgence to his Elder; whilst thinking to recover the power he lost there, by keeping a stricter hand over those here, he was bereft of them too by the same way he thought to make them more surer to him: for as the eldest by having so much, was easily per­swaded there was more due to him; so the younger brothers believing they ought to have had something more than they had, because their elder bro­ther had so much more than he should, press'd him out of necessity, as much as t'other out of wantonness. This looking so like a judgment from heaven, gave both the world and himself so full a view of his fate and his failings, that from this time he began sensibly to languish under the grief and [Page 212] [...] [Page 213] [...] [Page 214] shame of being so affronted; the rancor of his thoughts so festring inwardly, that though he asswaged it by all the Lenitives imaginable, yet the wound broke out as fast as it was heal'd, till the Cause was taken away by the death of those that were the two most unnatural Sons (whose ends prov'd to be as violent as their natures) after which yet he was no less afflicted by the no less unnatural obstinacy, of the two surviving Brothers Richard and John.

But that which made the troubles of his own house more insupportable, was the meeting with as great troubles in Gods house; where the disobedi­ence of his Children was out-vied by the contempt of a servant: who advan­ced by destiny to make a mock of Majesty, finding a purpose in him to cur­tail the growing greatness of the Clergy (that was arriv'd to that height, that they were able to make a King without a Title, and might (as he suspected) by tampering with Posterity be able in time to set up a Title without a King) resolv'd to wrestle both single, and to compare authority: and however he knew the design to be so well backt by the envy of the Laiety, that the Pope himself and all the Conclave despair'd of weathering it; yet such was his ob­stinacy, having got the help of opinion, and the belief of Integrity on his side, that he stood the breach of this unhappy Kings Indignation, and defied his Thunderbolt, till the very minute it blasted him; by whose death every one thought the King had got the better of it, in that he had the satisfa­ction of a full Revenge, without being touch'd with the guilt (since those that murther'd him however they did it to please the King, did it yet without his knowledg or privity.) But such was the Tyranny of Fate, that he who in his life time only made him how, being dead brought him upon his knees, and forced him to acknowledg him as much above his faith afterwards, as he was above his will before: and (then which no­thing could be more unfortunate) for the very same cause he prosecuted him in his life time as a Traitour, being dead, he ador'd him as a Saint.

It were too troublesome to tell of all the troubles of this great Prince, much more to bring them into any method, which coming from himself, and not ending (as I said before) but with himself, however they seem'd to vary in the Lines, kept still in the circle of his Family, mov'd by the same Causes though not by the same Persons: for as his Son Henry before, so his Son Richard afterwards, was tempted to capitulate with him, and to shew the world he was his Brothers successor, in point of disobedience as well as of right, he did with as great ambition, but greater passion, require an assurance of the same Kingdom and the same Wife: both equally dear to the Father, both alike fatal to the Sons; wherein meeting with a denial, the present fit of Love that was upon him heightened into an extream of hatred; with the contagion whereof (for it ran in a blood) his brother John was not long af­ter infected: and so joyning together, they made the last Effort upon their now almost tired fathers patience, besieging him in the beloved Town where his Father was buried and himself born; which he not long after took from him, and in it her that was dearer to him than his life, the fair Lady Adela (now become the old Kings avowed Mistress, however affianc'd before to his Son Richard.) This as it was an indignity that flaw'd his great heart at one single stroak, and wounded his spirit beyond all recovery, so the loss of the City provok'd him to blaspheme God, and the loss of the Lady to curse all his posterity, and what sence nature retain'd of the loss of his life (that took away the sence of all other losses) appears by the intelligence it held with his revenge after death: which over-acting its part (if I may so say) to charge the guilt upon the unnatural offender, forced the blood out of his nostrils as he lay bare-fac'd upon his hearse, as soon as his Son Richard (the murtherer) approach'd with dissembled reverence to kiss his hand. Thus

Thus as he had constant troubles whilst he liv'd; so it seems he had no great rest when he was dead, being ordain'd by Destiny to be an Example of unparalleld Desolation; and which made this unhappiness a kind of Riddle, that which renders all other men happy undid him, viz. great Wis­dom, great Power, and great Possessions, either of which makes great Friends, at least great numbers of those that profess themselves to be so; whiles he liv'd to see himself forsaken of Wife, Children, Family, Friends, and (if he were not himself, as in Charity we ought to think, when he blasphem'd God for the loss of Mentz) we may say forsaken of himself too, then which there could be no sadder Epilogue to humane Glory.

RICH­ARD I. date of accession 1189

[coat of arms of King Richard I: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

THIS King, as he was the first, so I take him to be the worst of all the Richards we had; and however Posterity has forbore to blur his Memo­ry out of the partiality and af­fection this Nation hath alwaies born to their fighting Princes (wherein he had not the better of any of his name, for they were all valiant as well as him­self) yet the present Age had no such cause to admire him; considering the unevenness of his temper, being never well full nor fasting, as we say, and the unsteadiness of his Judgment, making his Government very uneasie and distastful to almost all sorts of men. That he was an ill Son, needs no other proof then the preternatural Resent­ment of his dead Father, whose Corps so abhor'd his presence, that (as I said before) the blood gush'd out of his Nostrils when he came near it, as by the touch of its Murtherer. That he was an ill Fa­ther, appears by the disposal he made of his three Imaginary Daughters, Pride, Covetousness, and Leachery, which a scoffing Priest of France up­braided him with. That he was an ill Brother, is manifest by the ill usage of his Brothers John and Jeoffry; the first of whom, without any just cause of suspicion, he would have forc'd to have abjur'd the Realm; the last to quit his Bishoprick: and whether his unkindness or his injustice was the greater, I know not. What kind of Husband he was like to prove ap­pear'd by his deportment to her that should have been his Wife, the fair Lady Adela before mention'd, Sister to the French King, whom he did not more desire when he could not have her, then he slighted her when he could, sending her home so unexpectedly, that 'tis hard to say whether he more dis­paraged her, his Father, (who was her Paramour) or himself, making the bu­siness the worse by the same way he thought to make it better: for giving her many Jewels, seemingly to do her honour, he dishonour'd her the most that might be, giving the World cause to think it a recompence of that one Jewel [Page 216] she had left behind: whereupon 'twas reported, and perhaps as tru [...]y as maliciously, that the Father had his pleasure on her, and the Son paid the Charges. Lastly, as he was an ill man, so he was a worse King, behaving himself more like a Projector then a Prince: for after he had raked up as much Money preparatory to his Voyage into the Holy Land, as if he had in­tended to have spent all his own Dommons in recovering those, he found out so many tricks to cozen and cheat the People of more, that at length in deceiving them, he deceived himself too. For those whom he compell'd to make new Fines for the Lands they had bought of him, upon pretence of having lost his old Seal, slipt in such new Conditions unperceiv'd into their new Patents, as made them gainers by the loss, whilst his Covetousness suf­fer'd him not to perceive, or his Necessity to prevent the Inconvenience: but that which renders him most unworthy the affections of his Subjects was the not only making himself a Stranger to them, as he was (for during his whole Reign, which lasted nine years and nine months, he was not above eight months in all with them) but leaving them to be govern'd by a Stran­ger, who, however a man of the Church (for serving the Church, he was so wise as to serve himself by it) had so little regard to Justice, Honour, or Religion, that he observ'd no other Law but that of his own Will: but to make his Injustice yet more insupportable, after he return'd home he re­sum'd all the Crown Lands he had aliened for the carrying on his holy de­sign, without giving the least satisfaction to those who had furnish'd him with Money upon them, which nothing could have excus'd, had any body else suffer'd by it but the Clergy-men that put him first upon the Project. Lastly, to shew he had as little sense of Honour as of Equity, he pitifully and meanly did depose himself, and deliver up his Kingdom into the hands of the Emperor, after he was taken Prisoner in Germany, being not asham'd to attempt to make his People slaves on condition he might be free himself.

And wherefore was all this toyl and charge, imbarasing himself and his Subjects, but only to hold up the vain-glorious reputation of his Courage, and make good that Bestial Adjunct of Coeur de Leon which was not impro­perly given to him, if we consider that the same Creature is as much noted for his Voracity as Courage; yet was the excess of his Valour mostly spent in private quarrels; the King of France, who was ingaged with like Devo­tion, and he falling together by the Ears as soon as they met in Scicily; and after he came into the Holy Land he had the like quarrel with the Arch-Duke of Austria, with both upon the same point of Precedence, though not with like reason; the other having out-brav'd him in the common Cause, and planted his Colours upon the Walls of Acon before him, which he plucking down in scorn, t'other made him vail Bonnet to it, that is, surrender up his Cap of Maintenance (as 'twas then call'd) as a Pledge of his Homage to the Emperor when he acknowledg'd him his Supream Lord. And what was the end of this great Enterprize, after having tarried above a year there, but the taking only one Town, and besieging another, which upon notice of the Disorders at home (that a wise man might easily have foreseen and preven­ted) he quit with no less disorder, leaving the whole Action with as much precipitation as he took it up; insomuch that his Wife and Sister that ac­companied him, and all their Attendants and Officers were forc'd to shift for themselves, and get home as they could; which Inconsideration of his met with that pitiful Event before mention'd, to redeem him from which, his People were fain to strain themselves beyond their abilities, Lay-men and Clergy parting with a fourth part of their Real, and a tenth of their Personal Estate, all not being sufficient to make up his Ransome, till they [Page 217] pawn'd and sold their very Chalices and Church Ornaments.

Being thus as it were un-king'd, and expos'd naked to the Vulgar, stript of his Honour as well as Treasure, he thought himself not secure of the fai h and reverence due to his birth by any other way but a Recoronation, which being as extraordinary as the rest of his Actions (for he's the first we meet with twice crown'd) was notwithstanding the poverty of the Nation, that had paid in two years time no less then jj hundred thousand Marks of Silver (the vastness of which Sum may be guess'd at by the Standard of those Times, when twenty pence was more then a Crown now) perform'd with that solemnity, as shew'd he had the same mind, though not the same purse, as when he began his great Adventures. After this he fitted out a Fleet of 100 Sail of Ships to carry him into Normandy, to chastize the Rebellions of his Brother John, who incouraged by the King of France (the constant Enemy of England) had, during his absence, depos'd his Vice-roy Long-champ, and forc'd him to lay down his Legatine Cross, to take up that of the holy War, and had put himself in so good forwardness to depose him too (having brought the People to swear a Conditional Fealty to him) that there wanted nothing to give him possession of the Crown which was before secur'd in Reversion but the consent of the Emperor, to whom there was offer'd a Bribe of 150 thousand Marks to detain him, or 1000 pounds a Month, as long as he kept him Prisoner. But such was the power of the Mother, who was alwaies a fast Friend to the younger Brother, and had in­deed a greater share in the Government of the elder, then consisted with the weakness of her own, or the dignity of his Sex, that she made them Friends, and obtained an Indempnity for all the Faults committed during Longchamp's Reign (who indeed was more a King then his Master) so that his Indignation being wholly diverted upon the French King, he began a new War that was like to prove more chargeable then the old, which he had so lately ended. To maintain which he had new Projections for raising Mo­ney; but Providence having determin'd to put an end to his Ambition and Avarice, offer'd a fatal Occasion by the discovery of some Treasure-trove, out of which the Discoverer, the Viscount Lymoges, voluntarily tendring him a part, tempted him to claim the whole; and so eager was he of the Prey, that being deny'd, he besieg'd the Castle of Challons, where he conceiv'd 'twas hid, from whence by a fatal Arrow shot from the hand of one whose Father and two Brothers he had kill'd with his own hand, he was unexpectedly slain, leaving no Issue either of his Body or Mind that the World took notice off, excepting his three Daughters before mention'd, father'd on him by the Priest, by the disposal of which, though it were but in jest, we may see what he was in earnest: For he bestow'd his daughter Pride on the Knights Templars; his daughter Drunkenness on the Cesterci­an Monks, and his Daughter Leachery he left to the Clergy in general, which quickness of his, as it savour'd of Irreligion, so it made good that in him, which makes all things else ill, the comprehensive Vice of Ingratitude, the Clergy being the only men to whom he was indebted for his Honour, Wealth, and Liberty; but the unkindness he shew'd to them living, was sufficiently requited to him dead by one of the same function, who reflect­ing upon the Place where he receiv'd his fatal wound, shot an Arrow at him that pierc'd deeper then that which slew him.

JOHN date of accession 1199

[coat of arms of King John: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

KING Richard being dead, who was the third Son and Successor to his Fa­ther Henry, his fifth and only Brother living, Prince John became his Successor, though he were not his Heir; the legal Right vesting in Arthur the on­ly Son of Jeoffry the fourth Brother; of whom, as he had the start in Age and Interest, in point of Power as well as pre­tensions, being the Son and Bro­ther of a King, whereas t'other was neither, better known to the English Nobility, and which was more then all, in possession of his Brother Richards Army and Treasure at the time of his Death, so he easily supplanted the Friendless Youth; howe­ver he could not so draw the consent or obedience of the People to him, but that it was easie to perceive their coldness to be such, that it might be said they did rather not reject then neglect him to be King, the solemnity of his Inauguration so much exceeding the measures of their joy, that he himself taking notice of it, had so great a distrust of their Faith, that he held himself necessitated to suffer all the affronts given him by the French King for a long time, who being his great Enemy, by pretence of doing Prince Arthur Right, did him all imaginable wrong, but could not draw him out of the Circle of his Power to any kind of Ingagement, till pro­vok'd by his own wantonness (having usurp'd a Wife as well as a Crown) he was put upon that for the vindication of his Honour, which he would not have done for the Justification of his Right, to answer a more unequal Adversary, the Earl of March, who being the person to whom she was first affianced, and stung with the apprehension of the Indignity, to have her ravish'd from him (a wrong of the most sensible touch in Nature) conspir'd with the discontented Barons of Poyctou and Britain to set up Arthur a­gainst him, whom to make their Party the stronger, they married up to the youngest Daughter of the French King, who joyning with them, they press'd upon him all at once; but the attempt being perform'd with more heat then consideration, instead of foiling him they put a notable Victory into his hands, and such an one as made him Master of his two great Enemies, the Earl of March, and Arthur himself; the one the Person by whom, and the other the person for whom the War was begun, so that there needed not a Second to settle his Mind or State.

This mounted him on the wings of Fame, but that unexpected height was attended with a fatal Giddiness, which turn'd to such a kind of Frenzy as render'd him incapable of all advice: So that intoxicated with the fumes of his Power, he committed many outrages, not sparing his own Brother [Page 219] Jeoffry Arch-bishop of York, who using the freedom of a Brother in repre­hending his Exorbitances, had all his Estate taken from him and confisca­ted a whole year, before he could recover it again by the help of all his Friends: The Earl of Chester fair'd yet worse, who was banish'd upon the like accompt of being too faithful a Counsellor: Neither did the Lord Fitz-Walter suffer less then either, because he would not consent to pro­stitute his fair Daughter Matilda to his Lust: And whether he shew'd any foul play to his Nephew Arthur, after he was his Prisoner, is not certain, who surviving his Imprisonment but a few dayes, gave the World cause to think he was not treated as so near a Kinsman, but as a Competitor; and that which confirm'd this Opinion was the Judgment from Heaven that at­tended it, for from that time he grew very visibly unprosperous, loosing not only his ancient Patrimony, the Dutchy of Which his An­cestors had h [...]ld in despight of all the power [...]f France, and the rest of their potent Neighbours a­bove 300 years Normandy, and that as strangely as t'other did his life, but with it all the rest of his Possessions on that side the Water, all taken from him in less then a years space, not so much by force of Arms as by process of Law, whiles the King of France proceeded against him as an Offender, rather then as an Enemy: And to aggravate that by other Losses seeming less, but perhaps greater, he near about the same time not only lost his two great Supporters, Hubert Arch­bishop of Canterbury, and Fitz-Peter his Lord Chief Justice (as wise and faithful Counsellors as any Prince ever had) but her that was the Bridle of his Intemperance, his Indulgent Mother Elinor, a prudent Woman, of a high and waking Spirit, and therefore a most affectionate Promoter of his, because it tended to the supporting of her own Greatness.

These stayes being gone, he prov'd like a mounted Paper Kite when the string breaks which holds it down; for taking an extravagant flight, he fell afterwards (as that usually doth) for want of due weight to keep it sted­dy: and being no less sensible of the shame then the loss, instead of taking revenge on his Foes, he fell upon his Friends, charging all his misfortunes upon disloyalty of the Earls and Barons that refus'd him aid, whom there­fore he fin'd first the seventh part of their Goods, after that the thirteenth part of all their Moveables; and not content with the aid of their Purses, forced them at last with the hazard of their Persons, to attend him in the prosecution of a no less chargeable then disadvantageous War, where the recovery of part of his own indangered the total loss of their own Estates. This, as it was grievous to the Subject in general, so more particularly to the Nobility (being most of them descended out of Normandy, and by his ill management shut out of their ancient Inheritances there, had no other satisfaction for their Losses but by improving what was left here) who find­ing themselves thus doubly damnified, were inraged to that degree, that using a Martial freedom sutable to the necessity of that stimulation by which they were urg'd, they began to recollect all the wrongs done them by his Grand­father, Father, and Brother, and to shew they were in earnest, insisted up­on renewing the great Charter of their Liberties, neither were they un­provided of Arguments or Arms; this contumacy of theirs being coun­tenanced by the sullen Retirement of his own Brother Jeoffry the Arch­bishop, who chose rather to cast himself into voluntary Exilement, then submit any longer to his Tyranny: In vain now demands he Pledges of their Faith, whilst they believed him himself to have none. Sending to the Lord Bruce for his Son to be deliver'd as an Hostage to him, he receiv'd an answer from the Mother, which it seems exprest the affections, if not the sense of the Father, That they would not commit their Son to his keeping, who was so ill a keeper of his own Brothers Son; which rash return cost [Page 220] him afterward his Estate, her her life, with the loss of two for the saving one only Child; a Revenge so fully executed, that it could meet with no coun­terbuff but what must come from Heaven.

Here began the breach that disjoynted the whole frame of his Govern­ment; the King resolving to keep what by advantage of time and s [...]fferance he had got; the Barons continuing as obstinately bent to recover what their Predecessors had so tamely lost. Both sides prepare for War; and whilst they face and parle like men loath to ingage, yet scorning to quit their Cause, either alike confident to hope the best, and not unlike active to pre­vent the worst, a new accident parted them by presenting a new Enemy, which made the War give place as it were to a single Combat. The Pope not allowing the King the Priviledge of Nominating a Successor to the de­ceased Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, he makes a Truce (I cannot call it a Peace) with his Domestick Adversaries, to try his Fortune with his For­reign Foe. The Contest was not like that of Jacob and Esau, who should be born first, but like that of Caesar and Pompey, who should be upper­most. Now as desire of Rule brought these two great Champions into the List, so the confidence each other had in his strength and skill to handle his Weapon, made them unreconcileable: The Pope made the first Pass, who threatning to interdict the Kingdom, was answer'd with a Menace of confiscating all the Lands of the Clergy, and banishing their Persons: The second Thrust given by his Holiness was a Threat of Excommunication of the Kings Person: To this he returned that he would utterly disavow his Au­thority. Thus far they were upon the even Terms, and as it were hit for hit: upon the next Pass they closed, and as men desperately bent, either maked good his Charge. The Pope shuts up the Church doors; the King those of the Cloysters: the first took away all the Sacraments, leaving the dead to bury the dead, without Priest, Prayer, or Procession: The last seized on all the Ecclesiastical Revenues, and disposed them into Lay-hands. Whilst they were thus in close grapple, the King of France ap­peared as second to the Triple Crown: Had the Barons then stept in as se­cond to their King, they had not only made good their own Honour, as well as his, but probably had secur'd the Liberties they contended for with­out any force, there being more to be hoped for from this Kings Genero­sity then his Justice; but (which was most degenerous, and leaves a stain upon their memory never to be washed off) they finding him thus over­laid, turn'd all their points upon his back, poyson'd with the venome of the most opprobrious Calumnies that ever Majesty suffer'd under, the Infamy of being not only a Tyrant, but an Infidel, all which he was fain to bear with more Constancy of Mind then Fortune: But as we see a wild Boar, when beaten out of breath, chuses rather to dye upon the Spears of the Hunters, then to be wearied by the Dogs; so his Rancor turning into dis­dain, he yielded to his Nobler Enemies, and chose rather then not have his Revenge upon them, whom he thought God and Nature had put under his dispose, to humble himself to the Church, hoping, as 'tis thought, by their Keys to unlock the Rebels Power; but over-acting his Revenge, he stoop'd so low that the Crown fell from his Head, which the Popes Legate taking up, kept three dayes before he thought fit to restore it, verifying thereby the Prediction of a poor innocent Hermite, who foretold that there should be no King of England; which however it was true, yet being in some sense untrue too, 'twas in the Prerogative of him who never spar'd where he could shed Blood, to make his own Interpretation, which cost the poor Prophet his Life.

The Barons finding him thus incens'd, and seeing how to make good his Revenge, he had quit his Soveraignty, they resolv'd to quit their Allegi­ance to make good their Security, intending to call in the Dolphin of France, and swear Fealty to him, whilst the Common People were left to their Election, whether to take the wrong King that promis'd to do them Right, or the right King that persisted to do them so much wrong; who as little understanding the Principles of Religion as the dictates of Reason, the Bonds of Command and Obedience that should hold them together seem'd so wholly slackned, that there was upon the Matter no other Tye on them then that of their Interest, which sway'd them variously, according to the divers Measures they took of it. But as there are many Ligaments in a State that bind it so fast together, that 'tis a hard thing to dissolve them altogether, unless by an universal concurrence of Causes, that produce a general alteration thereof (it being seldom seen of what temper soever Kings are, but that they find under the greatest desertion imaginable a very consi­derable Party to stand by them upon the accompt of Affection or Ambiti­on, Honour or Conscience) so this King (the first of England we find put to this streight) had yet many Members of Note and Power besides his chief Officers (whom their places confirm'd) that stuck close to him, and serv'd him to the last; by whose Assistance he not only recover'd Ire­land, reduced Wales, and kept those of Scotland to their good behaviour, but notwithstanding all the Troubles he had at home, forc'd the Chief men of either Place to give him (as the manner was in those dayes) their Children to be pledges of their future Subjection: by which may be guest how far he had gone in the Recovery of his Transmarime Dominions, had not the cross-grain'd Barons stood it out as they did, who refusing to aid or attend him, until he was absolv'd by the Pope, and after he was absolv'd, stopt until he had ratified their Priviledges, and after they had the Grant of their Priviledges, declined him yet, until they had back the Castles he had taken from them; resolv'd it seems to have both Livery and Seisin of their ancient Rights: but whilst they thus over-bent the Bow, they made it weak and unserviceable: the visible force us'd upon him in bringing him to that Concession, unloosing the Deed, and taking so much from the validity of so solemn an Act by the bare illegality of their Coertion, that his new Friend the Pope (to whom themselves for­ced him to reconcile himself) thought it but a reasonable recompence of his Humility towards him, to discharge him from all his Condiscentions towards them, dispensing with his Oath by which all the Agreement was bound, and by definitive Sentence declaring the whole Compact null, which was confirm'd by the Excommunication of the Barons till they submitted to the Sentence.

Here the Scene chang'd again: and now the Pope being ingag'd on the Kings side, the French King on the Rebels, behold the whole Kingdom in Arms; but because there were so few to be trusted at home, the King sends for Forces abroad, whereof he had so great Supplies, that had there not been (which is almost incredible to relate) no less then forty thou­sand Men, Women, and Children drown'd, coming over Sea out of Flan­ders, he had even eat his way out to a Conquest of his own People as uni­versal, but more miserable then that of the Norman; for with those he had left he marched over most of the Kingdom in less then half a years space, reduced all the Barons Castles to the very Borders of Scotland, and made himself once more absolute Master of all the Cities of note, Lon­don only excepted, which in regard of their united Power, being so de­sperate [Page 222] as they were, he thought not safe to attack. This Extremity of the Barons drew over the French King in person to their relief, who ma­king incredible speed to land at Sandwich, as quickly became Master of all Kent, Dover only excepted (which never would yield) through which marching up to London, he was there received with such universal joy, that several great Lords quitting King John, came to render themselves to him: In the mean time the Pope pursued him with an Excommunica­tion to please King John, who all this while acted the part of a General so well beyond that of a King, that many who never obeyed him in Peace, were content to follow him through the War.

It was near a year that this unhappy Kingdom continued thus the Thea­tre of Rapine and Cruelty, enduring the oppression and horrour of two great Armies, headed by two great Kings; each chasing the other with alternate Successes through the most fertile parts of the Isle, till it plea­sed Providence in Mercy to the innocent People, to take off this Indo­mitable Prince, whose heart (long flaw'd with continual Crosses) broke at last by the slight stroke of a small loss, the miscarriage of some few of his Carriages, which in passing the Washes betwixt Lynn and Boston, were it seems overtaken by the Tyde: a misfortune, which though of no great Consideration, yet falling out in such a juncture of time, when the Indisposition of his Body added not a little to that of his Mind, carried him out of the World with no less Violence then he forced into it; who, however born to make himself Enemies, had yet perhaps been happy enough, had not himself been the very greatest Enemy himself had.

HEN. III: date of accession 1216

[coat of arms of King Henry III: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

KING John though he were Naturally dead, did yet Morally survive in his Son Henry, in whose dispositions there was much less difference then in their Fortunes, yet per­haps less in their Fortunes then in their Fortitude; this having more of Craft, t'other more of Courage: however he were the Son and Father of as Valiant Kings as any we had. That which to other Princes com­monly proves most fatal (their Nonage) was to him most for­tunate; for by reason of his tender years, being left under the protection of his Uncle William Earl-Marshal, who was so famous for Counsel and Conduct, the most considera­ble part of the Barons were thereby drawn to quit the French Party, and submit to him: whereby the Monsieur was forced, after almost two years possession, to sell a better hope of Conquest then ever the Norman had, departing with little more Treasure (notwithstanding the great Ra­pine of his People) then would serve to defray his Charge home again: after whose Return the Feaverish State recovered it self again out of the fatal Calenture under which it had so long languished, and enjoyed some peace, though little quiet; but that Felicity determin'd with the life of that great man, who having delivered the Son from the curse of his Fa­thers Violations, and the People from the desperation that attended it, as one that had done all which his Loyalty and the Love to his Country ob­liged him to, gave up his Charge with his Breath.

Upon his Death, the King was crown'd (as his unfortunate Father and Uncle before him) the second time, being willing the World should know he was now arriv'd at a degree of understanding to rule by himself: which occasion the jealous Barons took hold of, to press again for the Confirma­tion of their Liberties, the Denyal whereof had cost his Father so dear. This put him to a pause, and that discover'd his inclination, though not his intent; for by not denying, he hop'd to be thought willing to grant, and yet not granting, he had the vanity to be thought not to yield. But this cunctati­on of his, which shew'd him to be his Fathers own Son, plunged him into such a Gulf of mistrust before he was aware of it, that it was nothing less then a Miracle he had not perish'd in it: for as he could never get clear out of it all his Reign (the longest that ever any King of England had) so he was necessi­tated, as all shifting men are that entertain little designes they are asham'd or afraid to own, to make use from that time, of such Ministers onely, as in serving him, would be sure to serve their own turns upon him: which redu­ced him to that indigence, that had he not found out a way to prey upon [Page 224] them, as they upon the People, he had undoubtedly perished as never King did; being at one time come so near to Beggery that for want of Provisions at his own, he was forc'd to invite himself shamefully to other mens Tables, his Cred [...]t being brought so low, that he could not take up an hundred Marks; and his Spirit so much lower, that he told one that deny'd him that Sum, that it was more Alms to give him, then to a Begger that went from Door to Door: A speech betraying so strange abjection, that it takes off the won­der of those affronts put upon him afterwards, when a weak Woman durst tax him to his face with breach of faith and honour, and a pitiful Priest threaten him with being no King, when a private Lord durst give him the Lie publickly, and tell him he was no Christian: and (which is undecent to tell had it not been so well known) one of his Hubert de B [...]ugh [...] was charg'd to have said thus. own servants call'd him Squint-ey'd Fool and Leaper.

The first great action he was ingaged in was the recovery of the Ground his Father lost in France, into which he was drawn not so much out of affectation of Glory, as by the Solicitation of his Father in Law Hugh Earl of March; who having a quarrel with the Queen Dowager of France, upon the accompt of some dispute that had pass'd between her and his Wife, the Queen Dowager of England, call'd in the King her Son to take advantage of the present discontent; Divers of the great men of Poictou, Britain, and Normandy, being offended that the Regency of the young King should be committed to a Woman, and a Spaniard: But this design ending with like precipitation, as it was begun, after the Expence of some Blood and more Treasure (neither of which he could well spare) he return'd home, attended with a petty Army of those Poictovins and Britains; who by taking his part, had forfeited their own Estates at home. These therefore he conceiv'd himself obliged in point of honour to provide for, and which way to do it, but by displacing such of his prin­cipal Officers, who were in places of greatest benefit he knew not. These were his Cheif-Justiciary, his High Treasurer, and the Marshal of his Houshold; upon whom therefore he permitted the envious Rabble to dis­charge a volly of accusations, to the end that driving them out with shame and loss, he might fill up their places with those strangers. These great Pil­lars (for they were men whose wisdom he had more need of, then they of his favour) being thus thrown down, and broken to peices by their fall, so shook the whole frame of his Throne, that every body expected when he would have fallen himself too, divers of the Nobility that were nearest to him, removing themselves for fear of the worst. Amongst the rest was that famous Richard, who after the death of his brother William, was Earl Mar­shal: a man questionless of great honour and Probity, who finding his vio­lences to increase, being heightned by the ill advice of the two Peters, De Rupibus, and De Rivallis, the one a Britain t'other a Poictovin, now be­come the two great Ministers of State, combined with the rest of the Eng­lish Nobility to fetch him off from these Rocks; first intreating and after threatning him, that unless he would put these and all other strangers from him, they would remove both him and them, and chuse another King. Upon this bold menace, the plainest and boldest that Subjects could give a Prince, De Rupibus advised him to require pledges for their Allegi­ance; which they refusing to give, without any Process of Law, he causes them to be Proclaym'd Out-laws, and Seizes on all their Lands, with the profits whereof he rewards the Poictovins. This brought both Parties to Arm again, with like animosity, but more Cruelty, then in his Fathers time. So that for two years together, there was no cessation [Page 225] from all the violences, and depredations that usually attend a civil War, till the Bishops finding by the much blood had been shed, that the heat on either side was much abated, interpos'd with the King to do the Barons reason, and forc'd him to yeild, though he could not consent, to a restoration of their Lands and Liberties, and to the banishment of all strangers. This however proved to be but a tempo­rary shift, which the present necessity of his affaires drove him to: for not long after the two great Incendiaries were admitted again to Grace; and so near came he to the example of his Father, as to endeavour a revocation of his Grants by the Popes Authority, being done, as he alleadged, beyond his Power, and without consent of the Church; by which harsh Intention (though it took not effect) it is scarce imagina­ble how much he added to the conceiv'd displeasure of the People, to whom however he had no regard, till he had wasted himself so far by his profusion and supine Stupidity, that he was reduc'd through extremity of want, to truckle under his Parliaments: who knowing their own Power, and his dependence on them for money (for as a modern Sir R. Bake [...] Vit. H. 3. writer observes, his taxations were so many they may be reckon'd amongst his annual revenues, scarce any year passing without a Parliament, but no Parlia­ment breaking up without a Tax) as so many Tyrants press'd no less upon him one way, then he upon them the other, till at last he became as weary of asking, as they of giving him supplies; and having no other means to maintain his Riot, after he had canvass'd his Officers, by chop­ping and changing of places, and rais'd what he could without right or reason, he fell to selling his Lands, mortgaged Gascoin, pawn'd his Jewels, and after his Crown: and when he had neither Credit nor pawns of his own left, he expos'd the Jewels and Ornaments of Saint Ed­wards Shrine, to whoever would lay down most for them. After this he preyd upon the Jews (the People that always felt the weight of his necessities.) Neither were his Christian Subjects so free, but that he found means to squeeze them by Loans, Benevolences, and New-years gifts: all which not sufficing, he fell at last to down-right Beggery, and sent to the Clergy men for several Summes to be given him as Alms. And being reduc'd to this incredible lowness, when he found he could not prevail upon their Charity, he try'd how far he could work up­on their piety, by pretending to undertake the Cross: but that Project failing him too, the last and most fatal shift he had, was to resign to the King of France whatever right he had in the Dutchy of Normandy, the Earldoms of Anjou, Poictou, Tourene, and Main, and all for no more then three hundred Crowns, and that of Anjovin money too: a pitiful Summ to redeem a half lost Crown. The Prince likewise, unfortunately participating in the wants of his Father, was driven to Mortgage several pieces of his Lands too, to supply his Particular Necessities.

And now all things being gone that were valuable or vendible, the Barons finding him naked and disarm'd thought not fit to delay the matter longer; but being call'd to that fatal Parliament at Oxford, in a hot season of the year, when all their bloods were boyling, and out of temper, without more debate they first secur'd London, the onely Magazine to begin a Rebellion, by shutting up the Gates, and after secur'd the Kingdom, by shutting up the Ports, to prevent the inlet of Strangers; appointing twenty four Conservators (as they call'd them) to manage the Government, whereof twelve were to be nam'd by the [Page 226] King, twelve by themselves. But he thinking it too great a Diminution of his Majesty, to consent to any nomination of his own, left their twelve, call'd the Douze Peers, to take the Re [...]ormation into their hands; who displacing a [...]l whom they pleas'd to call Evil Counsellors, left none about him that were able, or perhaps willing to give him advice, and grew so insolent at last, as to banish (amongst other Strangers) some of his nearest Relations. Out of these (as it happens upon all Changes, where the Peo­ple are to be amus'd with Novelty) there was chosen afterwards a Trium­virate, to be Super-intendent over the Twelve. These were the Earl of Leicester, the Earl of Gloucester, and the Lord Spencer, to whom the three great Ministers of State, the Chancellor, the High-Treasurer, and the Chief Justiciar were appointed humble assistants. And because 'twas believ'd that the Liberty of the People depended on the maintenance of their Authority, the King himself was compell'd by Oath (as he was a Man, a Christian, a Knight, a King Crown'd and anointed) to uphold them, and acquit them of their Legal Obedience, whensoever he went a­bout to infringe the great Charter by which they held this Prerogative.

Here they had him bound up hand and foot, with that Curse upon him which his Father of all others most dreaded, and with which his Flatterers most terrified him whenever the Dispute of Liberty came in question, of being a King without a Kingdom, a Lord without a Dominion, a Subject to his Subjects (for they had invaded his Majesty, usurp'd his Authority, and made themselves so far Masters of his Person, that they might seize it, whenever they pleas'd to declare for a Common-wealth.) And now to make the Affront more notable, as if they had forgotten what was the Funda­mental Grievance, on which their Usurpation was grounded (the Enter­tainment of Strangers) they take a Stranger to head them, making Mon­ford (who was a French man by Birth and Descent) their Chief, who ha­ving designs of his own different from theirs (as the Earl of Gloucester his Compeer found when 'twas too late) indeavour'd so to widen all Differences betwixt King and People, that if possible there might never be a right Un­derstanding betwixt them.

The King therefore well knowing his Malice, and not being ignorant of his Ambition, fell first upon him, causing the Lord Mortimer to break in amongst his Tenants, who quickly righted himself upon those of Mor­timer's, with whom the Prince thereupon took part, as Llewellin Prince of Wales with t'other. The Prince takes Brecknock-Castle; Monford that of Gloucester, and after that, those of Worcester and Shrewsbury; from whence he marched directly to the Isle of Ely without Resistance. The King fearing his approach to London (like those, who to save their Lives in a Storm, are content to sling their Goods overboard) demanded a Peace, and willingly yielded up all his Castles into the hands of the Barons, to the intent they might be as a publick Security for the inviolable Observation of the Provisions of Oxford, conceding to the banishment of all the Stran­gers that were left: This Condescention of his however occasion'd rather a Truce then a Peace, of which he had this benefit, to gain time till he could be better provided. A Parliament being hereupon call'd at London, the freedom of Debate there renew'd the Quarrel, and each side confident of the Justice of their Arms, at Northampton they came to Battel, which how­ever it was well fought, yet the worst Cause had the worst Success. The Barons were beaten, and amongst other Prisoners of note that were then taken was the young Monford, the Heir and Hope of his Father Leicester; and Fortune thus uniting with Authority, made the Barons stoop, though [Page 227] they could not submit, to beg the Peace they had before refus'd, wherein being rejected with scorn, they became desperate, who were before but doubtful: which Leicester perceiving, and being a man skilful in such ad­vantages, took that opportunity to bring them to a second Battel, in which he supply'd his want of Hands with a Stratagem that shew'd he had no want of Wit, placing certain Ensigns without Men on the side of a Hill, not far from the place where he gave the onset; whereby he so fortunately amuz'd the Enemy, that he easily obtain'd a Victory, and such an one as seem'd to turn the Scale beyond all possibility of Recovery: For in it were taken the King himself, his Brother the late King of the Romans, the Prince, and most of the principal Lords, and by killing Five thousand of the com­mon People on the place, he so terrified all the rest of the Royal Party, that for a year and an half afterwards no body durst look him in the Face: all which time he spent in reducing the Kingdom under his own dispose, putting in and out whom he pleas'd, and filling up all places Military and Civil with Creatures of his own, carrying the King about with him (as a skilful Rebel) to countenance the Surrender of Towns and Castles to him; continuing thus the insolence of his Triumph, till it swell'd to that disproportionate Greatness, that his Confederate Gloucester began to be jealous, if not afraid of it; and out of that Distrust quarrel'd with him, upon pretence of not having made equal distribution of the Spoil nor Pri­soners, charging him to have releas'd whom he pleas'd, and at what rate, without the consent of the rest of the Confederacy; urging further, that he did not suffer a Parliament to be conven'd, as was agreed betwixt them, to the end himself might be Arbitrary: Lastly, objected that his Sons were grown Insolent by his Example, and had affronted several of the ad­hering Barons, who would have satisfaction of him.

During this Dispute, the Prince (by connivance of some of the discon­tented Faction) broke Prison, to whom Gloucester joyn'd himself; and rallying together the scatter'd Parties that had long attended the advantage of such a turn, they made themselves so considerable, that in short time they were able to bring the business to a poise. Leicester put it to the De­cision of another Battel, but not without apparent dispondency, as ap­pears by what he said, when they were going to give the first Charge, for he told those Lords that were nearest him, That they would do well to com­mit their Souls to God, for that their Bodies were the Enemies. However he omitted nothing that might speak him (as he was) a brave and valiant General, till his Son first, and after himself were slain; at the instant of whose fall there happen'd such a Clap of Thunder, as if Heaven it self had fought against him, and that none could have given him his death, but that power to which he owed his life. And so the King was rid of him, whom he once declar'd to have been more affraid of then of Lightning and Thunder: a Person too great for a Subject, and something too little to be a King. But had he (as he was descended from the stock of His Father was Simon, youngest Son of Simon Earl of Fureux, descended from Almerick base Son of Robert (sir­nam'd the Ho­ly) King of France. Kings) master'd the Fate of this day, he had undoubtedly made himself one, and broke off the Norman Line to begin a new Race not less noble.

This happy Victory gave the King some ease, but 'twas not in the pow­er of any Force to give him perfect rest, whilst the distemperature of the Time was such, that the Wound which seem'd perfectly heal'd, broke out afresh. Gloucester himself, though he had deserted his old Competi­tor Leicester, would not yet quit the good old Cause, but imbracing the very first Occasion of Discontent he met with, retired three years after from Court, and having got new Forces, sinds out new Evil Counsellors [Page 228] to remove. Mortimer, the great Man of merit with the King, is now be­come the Object of his Envy, and rather then not have his Head, he re­solves once more to venture his own. In the mean time those of the Isle of Ely, the remainder of Leicester's Party, that had held out from the time of his death, with incredible courage and patience, taking new life and hope from this Revolt, make many excursions and spoils, to the great charge and vexation of the King and the Publick. Neither could the Pope 's Legate prevail with him to come in, though upon tearms safe and honourable, tendering the Publick Faith of the Kingdom, and which was then thought greater, that of the Church to them: So much were they transported with the Opinion of their Cause, or by the falshood of their hopes, till this stubbornness of theirs provok'd the King to raise a new Army, the Command whereof was given to his Son Edward, that prospe­rous Prince, whose Fortune then being not able to resist, he had the ho­nour to conclude that War, and consequently to put a Period to all his Fathers turmo [...]ls, who being shaken at the Root, did not long survive the happiness of that tranquillity; the end of whose Troubles were the begin­ning of his own, ingaging upon the conclusion of that, in a War so much more dangerous, by how much more distant, the benefit whereof was to be expected only in the other World: this was that Undertaking in the Ho­ly Land, which separating him from his Father, beyond all hope of ever seeing him again, gave some occasion to question the old Kings Understand­ing, others his good Nature. But as the great concerns of Religion are as much above Reason, as that is beyond Sense, so we must impute that to the resolute Zeal of the Son, which we cannot allow for Devotion in the Fa­ther; who, had he had any thoughts of going into the other World (as his great Age might have prompted him to) would rather have taken care for a Grave for himself, then for so hopeful a Successor, who only by seeking Death escap'd it.

EDW. I. date of accession 1272

[coat of arms of King Edward I: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

HOW much this Prince Edward (the first in or­der of that name, and excel [...]ing all of them, as much as they did all the rest of any other name) being ripened by years and ex­perience for Government be­yond any of his predecessors got the start in point of honour and estimation of all his Succes­sors, may appear by the choice made of him after his Father was dead, before it was cer­tainly known whether himself was alive (being if not out of the World) yet buried as it were in the remotest parts of it, under a design so fatall to all the Princes that were engaged in it, that few of them ever re­turn'd but such as quit their Glory before they got half way at it, his absence (for five years) being continued so long beyond what was thought safe that had not his claim been rivetted by a double Title (that is to say of vertue as well as of blood) the irregularities of his Father (so fresh in every ones mind) might have been a sufficient Bar betwixt him and any that would have usurp'd the Throne with but in­different Merit. But he had this happiness beyond all expectation, to wear out during that space of time, the greatest part of those who had op­pos'd his Father, Heaven having fought for him, whilst he was fighting for it, rewarding his unparalell'd resolution in taking up the Cross, when he was so near the possession of a Crown (his Father having then one foot in the Grave, as we may say, when he left him) with that rare blessing of dis­posing the unsetled minds of his people to a firmer obedience, then pro­bably he had found, if he had continued at home, to have given them the opportunity of capitulating with him: for it was not long after he re­turn'd, before that some heat appear'd to remain in those embers, that had so long been rak'd up; and though the fire burst not out, yet there were not wanting some Botefeues both of the Spiritual and temporal Nobility, who blew the coal of dissention, and took all occasion to renew those dis­putes, which were previous to another Civil War. Now whether it were that they had been so rung, that they could not endure the Saddle, or were grown so wresty, that they would not endure the Spur, I know not: But so it was that they were ever mutinous, and maintain'd their pretend­ed liberties with so much pertinacy, not to say perversness (the one re­fusing to serve them with their Persons, the other with their Purses) that had he not been as wise as he was Valiant, and no less patient then Prudent, taking them off, whilst he was in the exaltation of his Opinion and Repute, he might have met with the same measure that his unfortunate son did, who (all things considered) may perhaps be said to have bled for his Fathers sins, rather then for his own.

Now whether the ingratitude of the Clergy, or the Ambition of the temporal Lords were a greater tryal of his wisdom or Power, I know not: but the course he took to reduce either to terms of modesty and submission shows the world he had no want of understanding, however he was forc't to put up the front of his Lay-peers in order to the facillitating his Re­venge upon the other, whom he mortified by a strain of State which none of his Ancestors durst venture upon: Whilst he not only put them out of his Protection, but all men out of theirs; denying them not only his favour, but his Justice, not only the benefit of his ordinary Courts, but the priviledg of sitting in that higher Court of Parliament. A severity (not to give any worse name to it) of so acrimonious a nature, that it not on­ly expos'd them to all the injuries and affronts, triumphant malice and scorn could put upon them, but was made more intollerable and grievous by his docking their Revenues, as after he did by several Stat. 3 Edw. 1. cap. 19.33. Stat. cont. for­mum collation. Statute Laws: amongst which I cannot but take notice (though by the By) of the particular con­tempt express'd in that odd Statute aginst Stat. de As­portatis Religi­osorum, &c. An. 3 cap. 34. ravishment, where it is declared Felony to use force to any Lay-Woman, and only a trespass to ravish a Nun. Neither was it thought enough to make what abscission he thought fit, without their greatness were rendred incapable of any further growth: to which intent he cauteriz'd (if I may so say) the wounds he had given them by that Statute of An. 3. C. 32. Mort-main; which as it was the most fatal of all others to them, so it might have prov'd so to himself, had he not at the same time he thus disoblig'd them, oblig'd the Laity by another suppos'd to be the wisest Law that ever was made, to wit that of Westminster the second, entitu­led De Donis Conditionalibus; which tending so much to the preservation of particular Families, and adding to their greatness no less then their con­tinuance, is by some Historians call'd Gentilitium Municipale; and had this good effect, that it brought the temporal Nobility firmly to adhere to him against the Pope, when amongst many others, that intituled themselves to the Soveraignty of Scotland (a Kingdom too near to be lost for want of put­ting a claim) his Holiness became his Rival, and thought to carry it as part of St. Peter's Patrimony.

This Victory at home (which brought the proud Prelates to purchase his Justice at a dearer rate, then probably they might have paid for his mer­cy, had their submission been as early as it was afterwards earnest) I take to be much greater then all those he had got abroad, by how much fortune had no share in it; and fame was the least part of his gains, extending to give him not long after, as great an advantage over the Lay No­bility; whom having first discern'd of their Patronage wholly, and of their other priviledges in a very great part, he did as it were cudgel them into Submission, by the authority of his vid. lib. Assis. fol. 141.57. Trail Baston; a commission, which however it were directed to the Majors, Sheriffs, Bayliffs, Escheators, &c. and so seem'd to have been aim'd at those of the lower rank onely, which were guilty of those Enormities of Champorty, Extortion, Bribery, and in­trusion (crimes much in fashion in those days) yet by a back blow it knockt down several of the great Men, who either countenanc'd or comply'd with the offenders; and which was more terrible, this writ was kept as a Weapon in the Kings hands, to use as he saw occasion. And to say truth, he was so expert at it, and indeed at all other points of skill, that brought him in any profit, that he was too hard at last for the Lawyers themselves, those great masters of defence, Canvasing his Judges, as well as his Bishops, when he found both alike rich, both alike corrupt. Beyond these he could not descend to the consideration of any Criminal, save the Jews [Page 231] only, for whom perhaps it had been no great Injustice to have taken their Estates, if at least he could have been prevail'd with to have spar'd their Lives: but as so great Courage as he had, would not be without some mix­ture of Cruelty, so 'tis the less wonder to see, that Cruelty heightened by Covetousness, as that Avarice by Ambition; the adding to his Treasure by these Exactions being in order to the adding to his Dominions, which were not yet so entire as consistent with his safety, much less the Glory he aim'd at: Wales being then as a Canton of the same Piece, divided by a small seam, which yet had a Prince of their own blood, descended from the antient Stock of the Unconquer'd Britains, who it seems had so little sense of the inequality of Power betwixt them, that he had given this King great provocations, as often as any advantage was offer'd to him, during the Barons War, playing fast and loose sometimes as an Enemy, other­while as a Friend, as it made for his turn; and having it alwayes in his Power by being in Conjunction with Scotland (without which he had been inconsi­derable) to disturb the Peace of England at his pleasure, never neglected any occasion, where he might gain Repute to himself, or booty for his People. Upon him therefore he fastened the first Domestick War he had, entring his Country like Jove in a storm, with Lightning and Thunder: the Terrour whereof was so resistless, that that poor Prince was forc'd to accept what­soever terms he would put upon him, to obtain a temporary Peace, with­out any other hope or comfort, then what he deriv'd from the mental re­servation he had of breaking it again as soon as he return'd; whereunto he was not long after tempted by the delusion of a mistaken Prophesie of that false Prophet Merlin, who having foretold that he should be crown'd with the Diadem of Brute, fatally heightened his Ambition to the utter de­struction both of himself and Country; with whom, his innocent Brother, the last of that Race, partaking in life and death, concluded the Glo­ry of the ancient British Empire, which by a kind of Miracle had held out so many hundred years without the help of Shipping, Allyance, or Confederation with any Forreign Princes, by the side of so many po­tent Kings their next Neighbours, who from the time of the first entrance of the English, suffer'd them not to enjoy any quiet, though they vouch­safed them sometimes Peace.

Wales being thus totally reduced by the irrecoverable fall of Llewellen and David, the last of their Princes, that were ever able to make resistance, and those ignorant People made thereby happier then they wish'd them­selves to be, by being partakers of the same Law and Liberty with those that conquer'd them: he setled that Title on his eldest Son, and so passed o­ver into France to spend as many years abroad in Peace as he had done be­fore in War; in which time he renew'd his League with that Crown, ac­commodated the Differences betwixt the Crowns of Scicily and Arragon, and shew'd himself so excellent an Arbitrator, that when the right of the Crown of Scotland, upon his return home, came to be disputed with Six, some say Ten Competitors, after the death of Alexander the Third, the Umpirage was given to him: who ordered the matter so wisely, that he kept off the final Decision of the main Question, as many years as there were Rivals put in for it, deferring Judgment till all, but two only, were disputed out of their Pretensions. These were Baliol and Bruce; the first descended from the elder Daughter of the right Heir, the last from the Son of the younger, who having as 'twas thought the weaker Title, but the most Friends, King Edward privately offered him the Crown, upon Condition of doing Homage and Fealty to him for it; the greatness of his Mind [Page 232] (which bespoke him to be a King before he was one) suffer'd him not to accept the terms; whereupon King Edward makes the same Proposition to Baliol, who better content it seems with the outside of Majesty, accepted the Condition. But see the Curse of ill-got Glory: shewing himself sa­tisfied with so little, he was thought unworthy of any, being so abhor'd of his People for it, that upon the first occasion they had to quarrel with his Justice (as who should say, they would wound him with his own Wea­pon) they appeal'd to King Edward, who thereupon summon'd him to ap­pear in England, and was so rigid to him upon his appearance, he would permit none else to plead his Cause, but compell'd him in open Parliament to answer for himself as well as he could. This being an Indignity so much beneath the sufferance of any private Person, much more a King, sunk so deep into his Breast, that meditating nothing after but Revenge, as soon as he return'd home (securing himself first by a League and Allyance with the King of France, to whose Brothers Daughter he married his Son) he re­nounced his Allegiance, and defied King Edward's Power, no less then he did his Justice. This begat a War betwixt the two Nations, that conti­nued much longer then themselves, being held up by alternate Successes near three hundred years; a longer dated difference perhaps then is to be found in any other Story of the World, that Rancor which the Sword bred increasing continually by the desire of Revenge, till the one side was almost wholly wasted, t'other wholly wearied. Baliol, the same time King Ed­ward required him to do Homage for Scotland here, prevailed with the French King to require the like from him for his Territories there: this began the Quarrel, that the Division, by which King Edward, which may seem strange, parting his Greatness, made it appear much greater, whilst himself advanc'd against Baliol, and sent his Brother the Earl of Lancaster to answer the King of France. Baliol finding himself overmatch'd, as well as over-reach'd, renew'd his Homage, in hopes to preserve his Honour. But King Edward resolving to bind him with stronger Fetters then Oaths, sent him Prisoner into England: whereby those of that Country wanting not only a Head, but a Heart, to make any further resistance, he turn'd his Fury upon the King of France, hastning over what Forces he could to continue that War, till himself could follow after. But Fortune being preingaged on the other side, disposed that whole Affair to so many mi­stakes, that nothing answered Expectation; and which was worse, the Fame of his Male-Adventures spirited a private person (worthy a grea­ter Wallis. Name then he had) to rise in Scotland, who rallying together as ma­ny as durst by scorning Misery adventure upon it, defied all the Forces of England so fortunately, that he was once very near the redeeming his de­spairing Country-men; and had he had less Vertue, might possibly have had more success: For scorning to take the Crown when he had won it (a Modesty not less fatal to the whole Nation then himself) by leaving room for Ambition he made way for King Edward to Re-enter the second time, who by one single Battel (but fought with redoubled Courage) made him­self once more Lord of that miserable Kingdom; all the principal Oppo­sers ( Wallis only excepted) crowding in upon Summons, to swear Fealty the third time to him. This had been an easie Pennance, had they not; toge­ther with their Faith, resigned up their Laws and Liberties, and that so servilely, that King Edward himself judging them unworthy to be conti­nued any longer a Nation, was perswaded to take from them all the Records and Monuments, whereby their Ancestors had recommended any of Glory to their Imitation. Amongst other of the Regalia's then lost, was that famous [Page 233] Marble Stone (now lodg'd in Westminster-Abby) wherein their Kings were crown'd, in which (as the Vulgar were perswaded) the Fate of their Country lay, for that there was an ancient Prophesie Ingraven on it, which denoted that wherever that Stone shou d be placed, there should the Scotch Dominion take place; a Prediction verisied in our days in the Person of King James the Sixth, the first of their Kings ever crowned here. With this he took away likewise all their Books and Bookmen, as if resolved to rob them of all sense of Liberty as well as of Liberty it self: only the brave Wallis continued yet Lord of himself, and being free, kept up their Spi­rits by the Elixir of his Personal Courage, mixt with an Invincible Con­stancy and Patience, till being betray'd by one of his Companions (a Vil­lain sit to be canoniz'd in Hell) he was forc'd to yield (though he would never submit) first to the King, after to the Laws of England, which judging him to dye as a Traytor, eterniz'd the Memory of his Fidelity and Fortitude, and made him (what he could never have made himself) the most glorious Martyr that Country ever had. No sooner was he dead but Robert Bruce, Son to that Robert Earl of Carric, who was Competitor with Baliol, appeared as a new Vindictor, who escaping out of the English Court (where he had long liv'd unsuspected) headed the confused Body, which wanted only a King to unite them in Counsel, Power, and Affection; but unfor­tunately laying the Foundation of his Security in Blood, murthering his Co­sin Cumin, who had been one of the Competitors, upon pretence he held correspondence with King Edward (the horror of which fact was aggrava­ted by the manner and place, for he took him whilst he was at his Prayers in the Church) it cost him no less blood to wipe off that single stain then to de­fend his Title; the Partakers with the Family of Cumin, who were many, migh­ty and eager of Revenge, joyning thereupon with the English against him.

This drew King Edward the fourth time personally into Scotland, who had he suffered his Revenge to have given place so far to his Justice, as to have pursued Bruce as an Offender, rather then as an Enemy, he might pos­sibly have done more in doing less then he did, but he not only sacrific'd the two innocent Brothers of Bruce, making them, after they became his Prisoners, answer with their lives the penalty of their Brother's Guilt, but declar'd he would give no Quarter to any of his Party, whereby he not only drove them closer together, but arm'd them with Desperation; which as it hath a keeper edge then hope, so it wounded so deep, and inra­ged them to that degree of Courage, as not only to give the greatest Over­throw to the greatest Army that ever the English brought thither, but to repay the measure of Blood in as full manner as it was given, or intended, and in the end broke the great Chain of his well laid Design, which was to have in [...]arged his Power, by reducing the whole Isle ( Wales being taken in a little before) under one Scepter, with no less respect to the quiet then the greatness of England: but maugre all his Power or Policy they let in a Race of Kings there, that found a way to conquer his Successors here without a stroke, of which he seems to have had some Prophetick knowledge upon his Death-bed, when he took so much care to make his Revenge out-live himself, by commanding his Son Edward to carry his Bones round about that Country (having just begun his fifth Expedition as he ended his life) and not suffer them to be buried till he had vanquish'd it wholly.

Thus this great King, who spent most of his time in shedding others Blood, was taken off by the excessive shedding of his own (for he dyed of a Dissentery) and, like Caesar (who terrified his Enemies with his Ghost) seem'd not willing to make an end with the World af [...]er he had done with [Page 234] it; but (which never came into any Kings thoughts before or since) resolv'd to Reign after his Dominion was determined, being confident that his ve­ry Name (like a Loadstone which attracts Iron to it) would draw all the English Swords to follow its fate, till they had made good that Union, which he with so much harshness and horror had accelerated: but as Pro­vidence, which more respects the unity of Affections, then the Unity of Nations, did by the Burrough on the Sands in the Bishop­rick of Dur­ham. Place where he dyed, shew the frailty of that Foun­dation he laid whilst he liv'd (all his Glory expiring with himself) so Na­ture (as in abhorrence to the violation of her Laws, by the effusion of so much blood as he had shed, the most that any Christian King of this Isle ever did) turn'd the Blessing she gave him into a Curse, whilst she took from him before his Eyes, three of his four Sons, and the only worthy to have surviv'd him, and left him only to survive, who only was worthy ne­ver to have been born.

EDW. II. date of accession 1307

[coat of arms of King Edward II: gules, three lions passant guardant in pale or.]

GREAT were the hopes conceiv'd of this Prince, not only from the good Omen of his Fathers Name and Cou­rage, by both which he was intitled to his Reputation, but from the advantage of his Ex­perience and Years, now aged twenty three, having seen ma­ny Parliaments, and some Bat­tels, and by several great A­ctions both in Peace and War, sufficiently instructed to make good whatever the Vertue or Ambition of his Ancestors had entail'd upon him: but as great Heights make weak Heads giddy, and unable to look downward, so fell it out in this crasie Kings Story, whose Re­putation lessen'd as he rose: Notwithstanding (which is strange to tell) the greatest Crime ever objected against him, was that which one would have thought might have past for the greatest Vertue, his excess of kindness to those he thought worthy to be his Friends; a real effect of good Nature, and perhaps all circum­stances considered, not otherwise ill, then as it met with ill-natur'd Inter­preters: now whether it were that Opinion which had mounted above his Greatness, as it rose before it, broke like a Bubble when it came to its height, leaving him so much more a Bankrupt in his Credit with the Peo­ple, by how much the estimation of his worth and parts had in his younger years soar'd above the usual pitch of Expectation; or what else may be the Cause, is not certain: but so it was, that like the Emperor Galba (of whom 'tis said that he was Omnium Consensu Capax Imperii nisi Imperasset) he lost himself so much, that many who had allow'd him to be a brave Man before he was a King, being so, would not allow him worthy to be a Prince. [Page 235] And possibly it might be a Judgment from Heaven upon him, to be put be­side the Reverence due to him as the Father of his Country, for the dis­respect he shew'd to him that was his own Father, whose last Commands he broke in the first place, beginning his Government with a double dyed Sa­criledge, whiles he rob'd him not only of the honour he had reserv'd to himself, but of the Treasure which he had dedicated to God: for as he neither carried his Bones through the Country of his Christian Enemies, nor his Heart through that of his Pagan, both which were his dying desires, so neither did he dispose the Money appointed for pious uses as he was directed, but bestow'd it upon the very same Person, who for debauch­ing him was by the same Will condemn'd to perpetual Banishment; a fatal Boon both to the Giver and Taker: to him, as being the Occasion of such an Affront to himself, as was never put upon any King before, all the No­bility refusing to attend the Solemnity of his Coronation, till he had pro­mised to make good the Will: to the other much more, in that it eat through the Bowels of his Fortune, and stopt not till it came to his Heart.

And now whether it was his Fault or his Fate, to dote thus upon Gave­ston, who being only a Minister to his Wantonness, could not have gain'd that Power he had over him to make himself so great by lessening him, without something like an Infatuation, the matter of Fact must declare. For before his Coronation he made him Earl of Cornwal▪ and Lord of Man, both Honours belonging to the Crown: at his Coronation (notwithstanding the Exceptions taken against him by all the Nobility) he gave him the honour to carry King Edward's Crown before him, which of right be­longed to a Prince of the Blood to have done: and after the Coronation, he married him up to his own Niece, the Daughter of his second Sister Jone de Acres, by Gilbert Clare Earl of Gloucester: having indeed rais'd him to this pitch of Greatness, as tempted him to raise himself higher, being not content with the Power, without he might a [...]so share in the Glory of Soveraignty, most vainly affecting the Title of KING; and if he were not King of Man (as he desired) he was at least King in Man, ruling both there and in Ireland like an absolute Prince, not without hopes of a fair possibility of being (if the Kings Issue had fail'd) King of England af­ter him; which Hope made him Insolent, and that Insolence Insupporta­ble, so that the Lords finding it bootless to expect Justice from the King a­gainst him, resolv'd to do themselves right, and without more ado let fly a whole volley of Accusations at him. This first forced him to part from the King, and being separated, they found it easie to make him part from himself; for it was not long before he fell into their hands, being taken Prisoner by the Earl of Pembroke, who chopt of his Head: a dea [...]h how­ever esteem'd to be the most honourable of any other, was to him questi­onless the most grievous, in that it made him stoop, who never could en­dure to submit.

This violent proceeding of the Lords, as it shew'd a roughness of the Times suitable to that of their own Natures, so it was the first occasion of the second Civil War of England, which broke out like a Fire, that be­ing long smother'd, was all in a Flame as soon almost as it was perceiv'd; and however Fate for some time seem'd to make a Pause, whether she should be­gin the Tragedy which she could not end, turning the Storm another way, by several Invasions from Scotland, which held long enough to have diver­ted the virulent humour, and let out blood enough to have cool'd all their heat, allaying it so far, that easie Intercessions prevail'd to keep them a­sunder [Page 236] for some years; yet nothing could so stop the Course of Nature, but that the monstrous Issue, when it was come to its birth, forc'd its way: the Discontents that had been so long ripening (even from the time of this Kings Great-grand-father) breaking out like a Boyl, surcharg'd with Anguish and Corruption, which was no sooner emptied by the death of one, but it was fill'd with Rancor and Envy, by the Entertainment of New Favourites. As Gaveston before, so the two Spencers afterward, the Farher and the Son, took upon them to Monopolize his Grace, and were thereupon generally charg'd with the odious design of bringing in an Ar­bitrary Government, with imbezeling the Treasure of the Nation, and doing several ill Offices betwixt the King and Queen, maintaining their own by apparent wrong to the Estates of other Lords, particularly of the Earls of Hereford and Mortimer; out of whose hands it seems they had bought some Lands, which lying convenient to their Estates, was in the first place offered to them: These, though they were such Objections as re­lating but to particular Persons, perhaps not without particular Reasons, might be excus'd, if not justified; yet being heaped up together, made a general grievance, and the Earl of Lancaster the Bell-weather of Rebelli­on at that time, thought it worthy the Barons taking up of Arms to punish them. The King answer'd for them, and undertook they should come and answer for themselves; the Father, he said, was imployed by him beyond the Seas, and the Son was guarding the Cinque Ports according to his Du­ty, and therefore he thought it was against Law and Custome to condemn them unheard. But nothing would satisfie their Accusers without a De­claration of Banishment, and though the President was such as might as well affect themselves as their Posterity, yet Hatred being no less blind then Love, they preser'd their present Revenge before the Fears of a future in­convenience.

All differences being thus compos'd, I cannot say calm'd, an acciden­tal affront given to the Queen by one that was over-wise in his Office, put all again out of order beyond recovery. A Castelan of the Lord Badlismers at Leeds (denying her Majesty Lodging there as she was passing by in her Progress, out of a Distrust she might possess her self of the Castle, and keep it for the King) she exasperated the King to that degree, that he be­sieged the place, took it, and in it the politick Governour, whom without legal Process he hang'd up presently, and seizing all the Goods and Trea­sure of his Lord, sent his Wife and Children to the Tower. This was ta­ken for so great a violation of the Liberty of the Subject, that being done by the King himself, nothing could determine the Right, but the Sword; and accordingly they met the second time in Arms, where Fortune was pleas'd to confirm the Sentence given by the King, by giving up into his hands many more considerable Lives, then that for which they were ha­zarded; amongst the rest was that of the Earl of Lancaster himself (the first Prince of the Blood that ever was brought to the Block here in Eng­land) and with him fourteen of the Principal Barons, none of which were spar'd, but forc'd to give up their Lives and Estates as a Reward to the Victors. And not long after the Spencers were recall'd and re-stated, who finding the publick Treasure wholly exhausted, and a chargeable War yet continued with Scotland, thought it but necessary to make such Retrench­ments as might enable his Majesty to carry on that great Work, wherein he had been so unlucky, without oppressing the People: amongst the rest, they presum'd unfortunately to abridge the Queen, lessening hers, as they had done the Kings Houshold-Train, by which Improvident Providence they [Page 237] so irritated her (being a Woman of a proud vindictive Spirit) that she privately complain'd thereof to the King of France her Brother, who took that occasion to quarrel with the King about his Homage for Gascoigne, and upon his Refusal, possessed himself of several Pieces there: and notwith­standing all that Edmond Earl of Kent could do, whom his Brother the King sent over with sufficient Strength, as 'twas thought, to repell him by force, continued his Depredations there; this bringing a Necessity that either the King must go over himself, or the Queen; the first to compel, or the other (being his beloved Sister) to mediate with h [...]m for a Truce, each equally inconvenient to the Spencers, who thought not sit that the King should go in respect of the general, and were as loath the Queen should, in respect of her particular discontent. They chose the least of the Evils, as they judged, and sent over her, who having a great Stomach, and but a small Train, meditated more upon her own, then her Husbands Vindication, and accordingly put an end to the difference betwixt her Brother and him, but on such terms, as afterward made a wider difference betwixt him and her self. The Conditions were these; that K [...]ng Edward should give to the Prince his Son the Dutchy of Acquitain and Earldom of Ponthein, and send him over to do the King of France Homage for the same, which was to excuse that Homage before demanded from himself; and thus she pretended to have found out an expedient to save the honour of both Kings, in allowing each his end: But having by this sineness got her Son into her own power, she gave her self so wholly up to her Re­venge, that she suffer'd her self to be led by a hand she saw not, through the dark Paths of dangerous Intreagues, managed by those, who having other ends then hers, did work beyond, though under her Authority. Principal in her Councel, as being so in her Affections, was young Morti­mer, a Servant fit for such a Mistress, and such a Master, as this Queen and her Husband; who having escaped out of the Tower where he had been long a Prisoner (and as he thought very injuriously, in respect he render'd himself to Mercy before the great Battel with the Barons, and by his Sub­mission contributed much to the Kings gaining that Victory) contriv'd with her how to set up the Prince, and with him himself; and because the Earl of Kent was upon the place, they made it their first business to work off him to the Party.

Here began that fatal breach from whence the World concluded that this unhappy King having lost one half of himself, could not long hold out before he lost the whole, it not being reasonable to expect that his Sub­jects should be truer to him then his Wife, especially since the right Heir took the wrong side. Upon the first apprehension he recall'd them home, but upon second thoughts he forbids their Return: at first he seem'd impatient of their absence, as the only Friends he could conside in; but on a sudden he dreads their approach as the most Mortal Enemies he had, forbids their landing by Proclamation, and sets out no less then three Ad­mirals to prevent it: they in like manner, whilst he prest for their Com­pany, delay'd their Recess; but when they found themselves banish'd, grew as impatient of being kept out. The King of France not owning so vile a design, so as to give any ready assistance to it, they withdrew into Holland, whose Earl being a rich and politick Prince, upon the contracting Prince Edward to his Daughter he furnished them with Money and Ship­ping to transport them.

Landing at Harwich, they were so welcom'd by the discontented Nobi­lity, that the poor King foreseeing the ensuing danger, and not finding [Page 238] that Faith in the Londoners which he expected, withdrew into the West, in order to passing over into Ireland; but meeting with a Storm at Sea that threatned as eminent danger as that by Land, he was forced to comply with the contrary Winds, and direct his Course towards Wales, where destitute of Councel as well as Courage, he lay obscurely, till his Majesty extin­guish'd like a Torch held downwards.

His Son (though he was as yet under Wardship himself) was made Guardian of the Kingdom, a Title so much greater then that of King, by how much he had the Superiority over both: readily was he prevail'd with to take away the lives of the two fatal Favourites, the Spencers; so that 'twas thought he would not be over-modest in taking the Crown after: it being so easie a Temptation to consent to depose him, who had already up­on the matter depos'd himself. However, Nature prevail'd so much o­ver Ambition, contrary to all their Expectations, or Grace rather over Nature, that he refus'd to accept it, till his Father might be prevail'd with to give it him as a Blessing; who thereupon resign'd it, but with such a moving Meekness, as for the present time melted the very Queen her self, and seemingly touch'd her with so much Regret at the Renuntiation, that the Bishop of Hereford (the great Engineer of this prosperous Treason) doubting her Constancy in point of Malice, to be as uncertain as her Faith in point of Affection; or perhaps rather dreading the young Kings Piety, back'd with the old Kings power, hastned his Death by all means possible: but finding himself for some time disappointed by the force of Providence, or the strength of his Nature, which neither ill Air, ill Diet, nor want of Rest could impair, he put him into the hands of two Miscreants, sit to be imploy'd in so black a Purpose; to whom he inclos'd in a Letter one onely Line, which was so twist up, as might serve to strangle any Prince what­ever, comprehending a double sense to warrant them, and excuse himself if need were: the words were these, ‘Edvardum regem occidere nolite timere bonum est.’

This being not pointed, the Devil who invented it, instructed them in the true meaning of the damnable Oracle, which accordingly they put in exe­cution with so much cruelty and horror, that never King died as this poor Planet-struck Prince did, having a Pipe thrust up into his Fundament (to the intent that the Marks of their Violence might not be perceiv'd outward­ly) and through that, with a red hot Iron they penetrated his Bowels to his Heart: yet was not this Death possibly more miserable or grievous to him then his Life, after he became forsaken of all his Subjects, Friends, and Allies in general, and particularly of his own Wife, Son, and Brother, not to say of himself too (if so be we do not reckon them a part of him­self) considering with what strange abjection he resign'd first his Crown, after his Life: For to say truth, never was King turn'd out of a Kingdom, or out of the World, as he was. Many Kingdoms have been lost by the chance of War, but this Kingdom (as one observes) was lost before any Dy was cast for it: no blow struck, no Battel fought, lost before it was taken from him, whilst by betraying himself first, he taught others to do it af­ter: strange Riddle of State, that a Crown should be gain'd forcibly, yet without force; violently, yet with consent; both Parties agreed, yet nei­ther pleas'd; for he was not willing to leave his Kingdom, and he that was to have it as unwilling to take it without he gave it him; the Queen was not pleas'd he should part with it without he parted with his Life too, [Page 239] judging that by having a part he might recover the whole; or that her self having parted with the whole, could not intitle her self to any part, but by his Death, and therefore having taken the Kingdom from him openly, there was a kind of necessity of taking away his Life secretly.

Poor Prince, how unkindly was he treated upon no other account but that of his own over-great kindness. Other Princes are blam'd for not be­ing rul'd by their Counsellors, he for being so: who whilst he liv'd they would have thought to be a Sot, but being dead, they could have found in their hearts to have made him a Saint. How far he wrong'd his People doth not appear, there being very few or no Taxations laid upon them all his time: but how rude and unjust they were towards him, is but too manifest. But their Violence was severely repaid by Divine Vengeance, not only up­on the whole Kingdom, when every Vein in the Body Politick was after­ward opened to the endangering the letting out of the Life-blood of the Monarchy in the Age following; but upon every particular Person con­senting to, or concern'd in his Death. For as the Throne of his Son that was thus set in blood (though without his own guilt) continued to be im­bru'd all his Reign, which lasted above fifty years, with frequent Execu­tions, Battels, or Slaughters; the Sword of Justice, or his own, being hard­ly ever sheath'd all his time: So 'tis said that the Queen her self dyed mad upon the apprehension of her own in Mortimer's disgrace, who was exe­cuted at Tyburn, and hung there two dayes to be a spectacle of Scorn. His Brother Edmond had this punishment of his Disloyalty to be condemn'd to lose his Head for his Loyalty, it being suggested (and happy it had been for him if it had been prov'd) that he indeavoured the Restoration of his Brother; his death being imbitter'd by the mockery of Fortune, whilst by keeping him upon the Scaffold five hours together before any Body could be found that would execute him, he was deluded with a vain hope of be­ing saved. The Fiend Tarlton, Bishop of Hereford, who invented the cur­sed Oracle that justified the murther, dy'd with the very same Torture as if the hot Iron that fear'd his Conscience had been thrust into his Bowels. Of the two Murtherers one was taken and butcher'd at Sea, t'other dyed in Ex­ile perhaps more miserable: And for the Nobility in general that were A­ctors in the Tragedy, they had this Curse upon them, that most of their Race were cut off by those Civil Discords of their divided Families, to which this strange violation gave the first beginning not long after.

EDW. III. date of accession 1328

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

DIEV ET MON DROIT

THE Minority of this Prince (being but fourteen years old when he was crown'd) however it may palliate, cannot so take off the scan­dal of not preventing his death who gave him life, but that there remains a greater blemish upon his Memory, then in Charity we can think there was in his Conscience, and such as could not be purg'd away by any thing he did after he came to be himself: For however he was at the time of com­mitting that horrid fact (the most unnatural we find in any Story, and not less odious for the Circumstance, then the boldness of the Cruelty) under the Government of his Mother, as she under that of her Minion Mortimer; yet being Master of so much reason as to pause as he did, upon the first mo­tion, it cannot be presum'd but he was Master of so much power, as to have prevented the hast of the Execution, especially since it was a violati­on of the Law of Nature, that besides other mischiefs that attended it, taught the People by the ill Example what to do to himself, in case he out­liv'd (as after he did) their Affections, or his own discretion. The best construction can be made of his Piety, rises from the early Revenge he took upon Mortimer, which truly lookt more like a piece of Revenge then Ju­stice; but being perform'd with the hazard of his own Person in appre­hending him, it shews he either was really Innocent, or abhor'd that the World should think otherwise: and he so far reconcil'd himself thereby to the Opinion of the Vulgar, that he seldom wanted Friends during his long Reign, as never an Occasion to make use of them.

He was a Prince of that admirable composure of Body and Mind, that Fortune seem'd to have fallen in Love with him; and as she contributed much to the making him a King, and yet more to the preserving him so, so she eleva [...]ed him so far above the reach of Envy or Treachery, that all the Neighbour Princes, dazled with the splendor of his Glory, gave place to him, not so much out of any sense of their own defects, as of his power, whereof they could not but have some glimpse as well as himse [...]f, who from his very first Ascent unto the Throne, had a prospect of two Crowns more [Page 241] then he was born to; the one placed within his reach (which was that of Scotland) to which there needed no more but an imaginary Right to gain him the Possession; the other more remote (which was that of France) but better secur'd in respect of a reputative Title, which however oppos'd, could not be deny'd. To the attaining the first, there was a fair oppor­tunity offer'd by the unreconcileable contest of two well-match'd Ri­vals, whose Right and Interest were so evenly poys'd, that the least grain of his Power might turn the Scale either way: to the Recovery of the other, there was yet a fairer Opportunity given him by the Revolt of Philip of Artois, one of the first Princes of the Blood of that Kingdom, and Brother in Law to the present King Philip de Valois; who being incens'd by a Judg­ment given against him for the County of Artois, recover'd by his Aunt the Dutchess of Burgoigne, came over into England, with a Resolution to set aside his Title who had before set aside his: Neither wanted he a Power suitable to his desired Revenge; for being well acquainted with the secrets of that Kings Councel, all which he reveal'd to King Edward, and being able to give him good security for the affections of several of the chief Go­vernours there that depended on him, 'tis no marvel he so quickly blew that spark of Glory which he found wrapt up in the Embers of King Ed­ward's ambitious Thoughts, into such a Flame, as threatning the Destructi­on of that goodly Country, made all Christendom afraid of the Conse­quence.

The great Question of Right betwixt the two greatest Kings of Europe being thus set up, which in effect was no more then this, Whether the French King should take place as Heir Male of the Collateral, and more remote Line, or the English King as Heir of the Female, but direct Line, and one degree nearer. Those of the other side the Water obstinately refus'd to tye their Crown (as they said) to a Distaff: to which King Edward reply'd, he would then tye it to his Sword. Upon this they joyn'd Issue, and both sides prepar'd for the decision by Arms. King Philip had a double advan­tage of the English; first in the Loyalty and Affections of the French, as being their Natural Prince; secondly by the authority of the Salique Law, which however it was not so clear, but that it might admit of much dis­pute, yet being back'd with a Possession, which made up eleven of the twelve Points controvertable (there having been a Succession of three Sons of Philip le Bell (Queen Isabels Father, by whom King Edward claim'd) each inheriting Successively as the next Heir Male, notwithstanding each of them left Daughters by which the present King Philip came now in as Heir Masculine) it seem'd so like an adjudged Case, that King Edward thinking it better to cut the Knot, then lose time in trying to untie it, resolv'd to put it to the Determination of a Battel. This Resolution of his was so lowd­ly proclaim'd every where abroad, as well as at home, that like Thunder before a Storm, the very noise of his Preparations made all Christendom shake, and so shake, that it fell into Parties: the Princes of each Country round about, like Herdsmen before a Tempest, flying some to one side, some to another; all seeking rather to shelter themselves, then to add any thing to the Party they flew to.

With the English King took part the Emperor, and all the Princes of Germany of the first Rank; (the Arch-Duke of Austria, and the Earl of Flanders only excepted, whose People yet were on this side for their Trades sake) the Earl of Holland, the Dukes of Brabant and Gelders, the Mar­quess of Juliers, the Arch-bishop of Cologne, and Valeran his Brother, and divers of the more Northern Princes: With the French were the King of [Page 242] Bohemia, the two Dukes of Austria, and the Earl of Flanders before menti­on'd, the Bishop of Metz, the Marquiss of Montferrat, the Earl of Geneva, the Duke of Savoy, and divers of the Princes of Italy, to the number (saith Du Hailan) of 10000 Persons; and which perhaps was more considerable, by how much he was nearer then all the rest, was his inraged Brother in Law David Bruce King of Scots, a weak, but a restless Enemy; who had reason to take part with the other side, for that he, as t'other fought against a Competitor too; King Edward having set up Baliol to vie with him. What the number of the English Forces were is not certain, unless we may guess at them by the Charges of their Entertainment, which (as Walsingham tells us) cost us not so little as One hundred thousand pounds Sterling in less then a years time; a vast Sum for those days, but very well repaid with the Glory of the two Confederate Kings Ransoms, who being both taken Prisoners and brought into England; the first, to wit, the King of Scots re­deem'd himself for 10000 Marks; the last, to wit, the King of France, pay­ed for his Liberty Three millions of Crowns of Gold, whereof Six hundred thousand were laid down presently, and Four hundred thousand more the Year after, and the Remainder the next two years following.

The Captivity of these two Kings at one time, shews at once the Power and Glory of this great King, who riding triumphant on the wings of For­tune, never wanted the means to make or continue himself Victorious, and prevailing no less over his own Subjects then over his Enemies, these sub­dued by his Wisdom, as those by his Courage: Some have made it a doubt whether he got more by his Scepter or his Sword; the benefit of Ransoms abroad (notwithstanding the many Princes taken Prisoners) being much short of the Aids given him at home; so that they that have taken the pains to state his Accompts, reckon that out of that one single Imposition upon Wool (which continued Six years) he was able to dispend a thousand Marks a day; which I have the rather noted, to shew how the Kingdom flourish'd as well as the King, gaining (as all wise States do) by their layings out: for the whole Revenues of the Crown in his Grand-fathers days were esteem'd to be not much above a hundred thousand Marks a year.

Five years the French King continued Prisoner here in England, time e­nough to have determin'd the Fortune of that great Kingdom, and dissolv'd their Canton'd Government into parts, had it not been a Body consisting of so many strong Limbs, and so abounding with Spirits, that it never fainted notwithstanding all its loss of Blood, but scorn'd to yield though King Edward came very near their heart, having wounded them in the most mor­tal part, their Head. The Scotch King could not recover his Liberty in double the time, being the less able to redeem himself, for that he was upon the matter but half a King, the other half being in the possession of Baliol, who to secure a Moyety to himself, surrendred the whole to King Edward, whose Magnificence vying with his Justice, he gave it back again upon Terms more befitting a Brother then a Conqueror, shewing therein a Wan­tonness, that no King perhaps besides himself would have been guilty of, nor probably he neither, had either his People been less bountiful to him, or Fortune less constant, which, to say truth, never forsook him, till he (like his Father) forsook himself, leaving all Action, and bidding adieu to the World ten years before he went out of it, declining so fast from the fortieth year of his Government, that it may rather be said, his famous Son Prince Edward (commonly call'd the Black Prince) reign'd then he; and happy 'twas for him that when his own Understanding fail'd him, he had so good a Supporter, who having it in his power to dispose of Kingdoms whilst he [Page 243] liv'd, ought not to be denyed, after he dyed, the honour of being esteem'd equal to Kings in the Prerogative of a distinct Character.

Begin we then the Date of his Government from the Battel of Crassy, which happening in the Sixteenth year of his Age, makes the Computation of his Glory to commence near about the same time his Fathers did (who however he was King at fourteen, rul'd not till after Mortimer's death) by which Battel he so topt the Fortune of France (as his Father had that of England) that he may be said to have taken thereby Livery in order to the Seisin of that Kingdom: And after the Recovery of Calais, it may be said the Keys of the Kingdom, rather then of that Town, were deliver'd into his hand; for that he therewith open'd all the Gates of almost every Town he came to, till the King of France incompassed him like a Lion in a Toil, with no less then 60000 of the best Men of France, and brought him to that streight, that it seem'd alike disadvantageous to sight or yield, and (which made the danger more considerable as things then stood) England it self was in some hazard of being lost with him: here he seem'd to have been as well accomptable to his Country, as to his Father for his Courage and Dis­cretion; and how well he acquitted himself appears by the Sequel: when forcing Hope out of Despair (like fire out of a Flint) he necessitated his Men to try for Conquest, by shewing them how impossible 'twas for him to yield; and by that incomparable Obstinacy of his, made Fortune so ena­mour'd of his Courage, that she follow'd him wherever he went, while his Sword made its way to Victory, and his Courtesie to the Affections of the Conquer'd, whom he treated with that regard and generosity, that many of them were gainers by the loss, being dismiss'd with honourable Presents, that made his second Conquest over them greater then the first; the King of France himself being so well pleas'd with his Bondage, that he return'd vo­luntarily into England after he was redeem'd, to meet two Kings more that might be Witness of his Respect and Gratitude: In short, he was as King of England on the other side the Water, as his Father was on this side, keeping so splendid a Court in Acquitaine, that no less then three Kings came to visit him too all at once; these were the King of Majorque, Navar, and Castile: the last of which craving Aid of him against an Usurper, who was back'd by an Army consisting of no less then One hundred thousand men (if the Writers of those times say true) was re-instated accordingly by his single power, to shew the World that he could as well make Kings as unmake them. His second Brother, who had the Title of King by marrying with the King of Castile's Daughter and Heir, being principally indebted to him for the honour of that Title, and it prov'd a fatal Debt both to him and his Son Richard the Second, costing the one his Life, the other both Life and King­dom too: for as himself never recover'd the health he lost in undertaking that Expedition, so his Son never recover'd the disadvantage put upon him afterward by his Uncle Lancaster, who by that means having got the Regency of his drooping Father King Edward, who tyred with Action ra­ther then Age, fatally submitted to the loss of more years of his Govern­ment, then he got by his unnatural Anticipation from his own Father, and suffer'd himself to be buried alive (as we may say) under his Cradle, put fair for setting his Nephew aside, but wanting a Colour for so apparent an Injustice (his jealous Father the Black Prince, having declar'd him his Suc­cessor in his life time, to prevent all tricks) he thought it enough to make way for his Son to do it, and accordingly put such an impression of dislike upon the innocent Youth at his very first Edition, as prov'd Indelible in his riper years: for the very same day he was presented to take his Grand­fathers [Page 244] Seat in Parliament, as Heir apparent to the Crown (being then but eleven years old) he taught him to demand a Subsidy, purposely to turn the Peoples blood, who were then big with their Complaint of Taxes. But possibly he is made more splenetick, as well as more politick, then he was; for it was scarce possible to make the Youth more odious then he had made himself before, by disgusting those two potent Factions of the Church and the City of London, who, to shew how weary they were of his governing the old Child his Father, would not after his Death let him longer Rule the young Child his Nephew, but purposely depos'd him, to the end (as they said) that he might not depose the other.

Thus this great King ended as ingloriously as he began, who having stept into the Throne a little before he should, 'tis the less wonder he left it a lit­tle before it was expected he would: especially if we consider, that in out-living the best Wife, and the best Son in the World, he had a little out-liv'd himself; being so unfortunate, notwithstanding his great good Fortunes, as to see his Glory unravel'd, as well as his Happiness, in great part: there being nothing left him of all his great Gettings abroad, purchased with so much Travel, Expence, and Bloodshed, but only the poor Town of Calais, which signified no more then a Gate of a City left open, when all the rest is possest by too potent an Enemy. But we must look on't as a Curse that he inherited with his Crown, not to be permitted to dye till he saw himself (as his Father was) forsaken of every Body, but a poor Priest, that only tar­ried to torment him with the remembrance of his Sins, and left him at last as he left the World, in such a state of uncertainty, that our Historians are yet to seek whether to place him amongst the rank of our fortunate or unfortu­nate Princes; the fatal divisions of his Posterity (which took their first rise from his weakness) being so pernicious to the whole Kingdom, as well as to themselves, that if the Dead know any thing of what is done amongst the Living, he needed no other Hell to torture his guilty Spirit then the vision of those murthered Princes of his own Blood, whose Ghosts just led one ano­ther where ere they met.

RICH. II. date of accession 1377

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

DIEV ET MON DROIT

THE Black Prince, this Kings Father (whose Wisdom doubtless was no way short of his Courage) knowing how apt they are who stand nearest to a Throne to step first into it, was so intent to prevent any disorder of that kind, that might be fear'd from the well-known Ambition of his as­piring Brothers (the eldest of which having the Title of King, but without any Kingdom, in the right of his Wife, might reasonably be suspected to affect one so much the more, in his own Right, and probably to take the same advantage (if he could) of his Nephew Richard's weakness, as King John his Ancestor had heretofore done of that of his Nephew Prince Arthur) made it his dying Request to his declining Father, to inaugurate his Son whiles he was yet alive, that by being committed to the Parliaments care, he might have publick Security against all private Supplantations, and without fur­ther dispute enjoy all those Prerogatives which either his own Right or his Fathers Merit intituled him to: whereupon (as I noted before) he was set upon the Throne at Eleven years old, and in the life time of his Grand­father, began his Reign with this Happiness, that at the same time he took upon him to govern them, the Parliament entred into Consultation about the Persons fittest to govern him: And because the safety of the Kingdom, as well as of the King consisted in the Multitude of Councellors, they were of Opinion to add to his Uncle Lancaster (who put in to be Protector) the two other Brothers, Edmond Earl of Cambridge, and Thomas of Wood­stock, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, with whom they conjoyned several Temporal and Spiritual Lords of known Wisdom and Integrity. This so offended the Duke, as thinking it a dangerous reflex on his Ambition, not to be trusted solely, he refus'd the Charge, and retiring into the Country, so plaid the King at his own House, that a poor well-meaning Frier thought himself obliged in point of Allegiance, to accuse him of an intention to U­surp the Kingdom, and consequently to destroy the King: neither wanted he matter enough (as 'tis thought) to make out that Charge; but what he [Page 246] wanted of Innocence was so made up by Power; the unseconded Accusation was easi [...]y turn'd upon the Friendless Accuser, who being thereupon cast in­to Prison, was afterwards inhumanly made away by those that had him in Custody, who tying one end of a Cord about his Neck, the other to his Privy Members, hung him upon a Pin, and with the weight of a Stone laid upon his Belly, burst his back, and so all further Crimination deceased with him. The Impunity of this Treason derogated so much from the Kings Justice and Wisdom, that it lessen'd him apparently in the Opinion of the People, who not being able to distinguish betwixt his want of skill or power to punish, began from thenceforth to worship the Duke (as the Indians doth the Devil) out of fear, whiles he in the mean time omitted no occasion to propagate Tumults and incourage Faction, and in a little time, by seeming to make the Peoples Discontents the ground of his own (who goaded and vexed with needless Taxes, were like mad Oxen, ready to break the Yoke of Authority from off their Necks) got the opinion of being their great Patriot.

Now as it is easie to kindle a great Fire with very little blowing, when the matter is fitly dispos'd to burn, so it happen'd very unluckily, that from the casual Rudeness of an inconsiderable Tax-gatherer, that came into the House of a poor Tiler of Deptford, and would have turn'd up the Coats of his young Daughter, to see whether she were of Age to pay her Poll-mony, there was occasion'd so over-grown a Riot, as bearing down all respect of Laws, Order, or Government, was not to be appeas'd with the Blood of three of the principal'st Ministers of State, that is to say, the Chancellor (although he were Arch-bishop of Canterbury) the Treasurer, and the Lord Chief Justice, and came at last so near to Majesty it self (for some of the Rebels were little less rude with the Kings own Mother, then his Officer had been with their Captains Daughter) that 'twas thought nothing could deliver the King himself from the approaching Danger, but meeting it half way: which he did with so well temper'd a Courage, as never King before him shew'd, except Caesar, and he but once; or his own Father at the Bat­tel of Poctiers, when begirt with as many perhaps, but not so insolent nor unworthy Foes. This being as much beyond the expectation of his Years, as of his Enemies, charmed them into a Submission for a while; but the Distemper being universal and raging, and the Contagion spread insensibly through so many parts of the Kingdom, it was not possible to heal the E­vil with a Touch only. However, one would have thought so hopeful a Prince as this was, the Son of so brave a Father, and fortified with so un­pregnable a Title, could not likely have miscarried, but must have stood firm as a Mountain, whose top was above all Storms; but the same Stars ruling at his Birth that govern'd his Great-grand-fathers Nativity, 'tis no marvail, being of the same temper, he should fall under the same fate, to be kept by Flatterers from the knowledge of himself, till being not him­self, he too late saw his Error in the experience of their Falshood.

The first ten years of his Government (which were the better, though not the longer part of it) he reign'd with great splendor, if so be we may properly say he reign'd whiles he was under the dispose of others, taking all occasions to let those that attempted to disturb him both at home and a­broad, especially his right and left-hand Enemies, the French and Scots, feel the sharpness of his Sword, and the weight of his Power, forcing the first to quit their chief Design, having prepar'd a Navy of 1287 Ships to invade him; the other to quit their chief City, which he thereupon redu­ced into Ashes, to make a Bonefire that might give the whole Kingdom no­tice [Page 247] of his Victory. But after he came to be of Age to do all himself, he be­gan very visibly to undo himself, hastning the slow pace of his De [...]iny, by quarrelling with his Parliaments; who being actuated by the subtilty of his emulous Uncles, gather'd strength by the discovery of his weakness, and taking all advantages against him in point of Right or Reputation, urged their Priviledges so far in derogation of his Prerogative, that he could not for­bear telling them the very next Sessions after, he was out of his Wardship (as he was wont to call it) that he perceived they had a mind to rebel, and therefore thought he could do no better then to ask Aid of his Cosin the King of France, into whose hands (he said) he had rather fall, being a Prince, then submit to his own Subjects. A rash and unadvised Reply: which however it seem'd to be the Result of a proud and vindictive Sto­mach, was in truth so abject and low, so unlike himself, and so like his little Great-Grandsire Henry the Third, that they taking Example from the Nobility of that time, as he from that King, immediately put the Govern­ment into the hands of thirteen Lords, of whom his turbulent Uncle Glou­cester was the Chief, who having Divisum Imperium, lookt like a great Wen upon the Face of the State, that drew all the ill humours of the Body Poli­tick to it. The Duke of Ireland, that was the principal Councellor of his party, and his Uncle by Marriage, was so amaz'd at the sudden birth of this Oligarchy, that not daring to give any Opinion of his own in the Case (although he were a man of sufficient Courage and Authority) he put him upon advising with all the Judges, possibly that what himself should think fit, might pass for Law out of their mouths: and accordingly Questions were fram'd to be propos'd to them, by which it was easier understood what the King would have to be Law, then what in truth was so. To all which having receiv'd positive Resolves on the Kings side, the next Con­sultation was how to frame such a House of Commons as might be brought to take part with the King against the Lords: and forthwith Letters were directed to all the Sheriffs and Justices of Peace in every County, to inter­pose their Credit and Authority, for the chusing of such Persons, Knights and Burgesses for the next Sessions, as the King and his Councel had nam'd in a List sent to them.

This look'd like so dangerous an Industry, that the Regency took the Alarm at it, and trusting to no other remedy, flew to Arms. The King there­upon demanded Aid of the City of London; but they failing his Expecta­tion, the Lords grew so bold as to send to him to deliver up his ill Councel­lors, whom they call'd Traytors and Seducers. Upon this there were very great and grave Deliberations, each man being to advise at the price of his own Head: the Arch bishop of York, like a man of great Faith, was of Opinion to sight them with such present Strength as the King had, trust­ing to the Justice of the Cause: the Dukes of Ireland and Suffolk, men of Action, but wanting the means, were for delivering up Calais to the French King, to purchase his Assistance. But the Majority of Voices coming from such men, whose Fears made them rather wise then honest, were for ap­peasing the Enemy with fair promises, till there were a fit opportunity to suppress them: the first Proposal was thought very hazardous; the second much more: besides, there was such a bitterness in the Pill, that no pre­paration could make the King to swallow it, who not knowing what effect it might have when it was done, utterly rejected it: upon which they se­cretly withdrew that gave the Counsel, and left him to himself. Whereupon the Lords Regent found an opportunity to be admitted to a Parley with him; who producing to him Letters from the King of France, which they [Page 248] had intercepted, pursuant to the Design of bringing in a Forreign Enemy, they mov'd him no less by shame then dread of the Consequence, to consent to the calling another Parliament.

Upon the day of the Convention, the King came not to the House, being infinitely troubled in his mind at News he had just then received of the Earl of Derby's Intercepting the Duke of Ireland (who being gone as far as Che­ster, in order to his passing into that Kingdom, was set upon by the said Earl, and totally defeated, who hardly escaping fled into the Low-countries, where not long after he dyed.) The Lords heightened with this Success, sent a very harsh Message to him, letting him know that they attended him there, and if he would not come to the House according to promise, they would chuse another King that should hearken to their faithful advice. This though it were in effect no other, but to tell him they would depose him without his consent, if he would not come and consent to be depos'd; yet having no Retreat from it, but down a steep Precipice, he chose rather to comp [...]y, and put himself under the mercy of Providence, then under the uncertainty of their Mercy. Upon his first appearance they presented him with a black Roll of those whom he call'd his Friends, they his Ene­mies, some to be prescrib'd, some to be imprison'd, and others banish'd; and in this last List there were not only Lords but Ladies found Delin­quents: Some were accus'd of imbeziling his Treasure; others of pur­loyning his Affection; all for robbing him of his Honour: whereupon some were to be try'd for their Lives, others for their Fortunes, and all for their Liberties: but in respect of their other great Affairs which were in order to what followed, they referred it to the succeeding Parliament, not unfitly call'd the Parliament that wrought wonders; which contrary to all other Parliaments that used to swear Obedience to the King, requir'd an Oath of him himself, to observe such Rules and Orders as they should prescribe to him.

Here now we have this unfortunate Prince brought to the last year of his Rule, though not of his Reign, beginning then to enter into his Wardship (as he call'd it) when he thought he was just got out of it. All power was put into the hands of the Dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester, who managed all Treaties abroad, concluded War and Peace as they thought fit, and were indeed absolute in every point, but the Command of their own Passions, and uncontroulable by any but themselves. The Duke of Lancaster having now digested the Kingdom in his thoughts, procures the Dutchy of Acqui­taine to be setled on him, as an earnest of what was to follow, being the Inheritance of the Crown, and descended on the King from Prince Ed­ward his Father: and having married up the King to a Child of eight years old, by whom 'twas impossible he could have Issue, with a Portion that scarce defraid the Charge of the Solemnity, he secur'd his own Pretensions, by Legitimating three of his Bastard Sons, in case his lawful Issue should fail. The Duke of Gloucester had the same Ambition in his heart, as well as the same Blood in his Veins, but Nature having put a disadvantage upon him by placing him so far behind (being the sixth Son of King Edward the Third) he was forc'd to gratifie his Envy, instead of his Ambition, and rest content with the hopes of doing his Brother a Mischief when time serv'd, without any great probability of doing himself good. According­ly he made a Faction, who conspir'd with him to seize the King, his two Brothers Lancaster and York, and to put them all up in Prison, and after to execute divers Lords whom he thought to be more his Enemies, then their Friends; but the end of his Treason being to be himself betray'd by those [Page 249] he made use of. Lancaster came thereby to stand single, like a great Tree, which being at its full height, spread his Limbs the wider, and grew to be so conspicuous, that the succeeding Parliament desired to shelter themselves under the shadow of his power: hereupon he reduced the number of the thirteen Regents to seven only, which being all his Confidents, he with them concluded aforehand all Affairs of moment, and directed how they should pass in Parliament: An Example not less mischievous to the King­dom then the King: so that now there wanted no more to make him the So­veraign but the putting on the Crown.

But see the uncertainty of humane Glory: Having just finished the great work of his Usurpation, an unexpected blow from that invisible hand that turns about the great Wheel of Causes, broke the frame of his projection in pieces. His Son Henry Duke of Hereford accused by the Duke of Norfolk of Treason, was forc'd to purge himself by the Tryal of Combat: a Law that might condemn, but never acquit him, since it was only possible to discharge himself of the danger, but never of the suspition of the Crime. This being urg'd so far, that they were both brought into the List, there was no way left to avoid the uncertainty of the Fight, but banishment of both; wherein though the Duke of Lancaster got the favour to make the Exile of his Son but temporary, when the others was perpetual, yet the affront that Fortune seem'd to give him by this accidental Disgrace, came so near his heart, that his Son had no sooner taken leave of his Country, but he bid adieu to the World, and so left the King once more Hors de page.

Thus Time and Fortune seem to have conspir'd in vindicating the wrongs of this abused Prince, ridding him at once of those two great Corrivals in Power, whose Authority had so far outweighed his, that they kept him in the condition of a Minor, till they had made the People believe him in­sufficient for Government; the one being remov'd beyond all possibility, the other beyond all probability of Return: whereby he became so much at ease in his own thoughts, that being upon the wing again, he thought him­self not only Master of himself, but of every body else; and now despising all after-claps, he seized upon all the Dukes Estate to his own use, which as it look'd like a Revenge now he was dead, that might have past for a piece of Justice if he had been living, so it gave many cause to pity the Duke his Son, who otherwise could have been well enough content never to have seen him more. Neither was this the worst on't, but apprehending from what the King did to him, what possibly he might do to any of them, they made his particular suffering the ground of their Publick Resentment, which Hereford took upon the first bound, and made that good use of it, that when he came after to claim the Crown, that it appear'd the best colour of Right he had was from this wrong, whereof yet the King was no way sensible, who (as I said be­fore) despising all dangers at home, directed all his Caution to those a­broad only, taking with him young Henry of Monmouth, the Duke of He­reford's, and since his Fathers Death, Duke of Lancaster's Son and Heir, into Ireland, whither he went to suppress some Rebels. This, however it seem'd to be an occasion of Glory which the Bravery of his Youth could not suffer him to pretermit, whilst those petty Kings, who were eye witnesses of his disproportionate Power, taught their undisciplin'd People Obedi­ence, by the Example of their own Submission; yet it prov'd an empty Af­fectation, and so much more fatal in the Consequence, by how much it was scarce possible to conceal, much less recover his Error, till the Exil'd Duke of Lancaster took his advantage of it, who finding him out of his Circle, return'd into England with that speed, as if he had been afraid [Page 250] lest Fortune should change her mind before he could change his condition.

Great was the concourse of People that congratulated his Arrival, neither was their confluence less considerable for Quality then Number: the Arch­bishop of Canterbury (banish'd for being one of the Confederates with the Duke of Gloucester) the Earls of Northumberland, Westmoreland, Darby, and Warwick, the Lords Willoughby, Ross, Darcy, Beaumont, and divers others, besides Knights and Esquires of great Repute in their Countries, who offer'd to serve him with their Lives and Fortunes: and as they mov'd they increas'd so fast, that the Duke of York (left Regent during the Kings absence) thought it convenient to attend him at Berclay Castle, and from thence to Bristow, where the first Tragedy began; for there finding the Earl of Wiltshire the Lord High Treasurer, with Sir Henry Ewin, Sir Hen­ry Bussy, both men of great note of the Kings party, they arraign'd them there for misgoverning of the King, and having smote off their Heads, proceeded to imprison the Bishop of Norwich, Sir William Elmeham, Sir Walter Bur­leigh, and divers others upon the same account, setting up a direct Tyran­ny, which continued six Weeks before the King (by reason of contrary winds) heard any thing of it.

Upon the first notice given him, he made a shew of being so little con­cern'd at it, that he declar'd he would not stir out of Dublin, till all things fitting for his Royal Equipage were made ready: but understanding after­ward that they had seiz'd several of his Castles, he sent over the Earl of Sa­lisbury to make ready an Army against his landing, promising to follow him in six dayes after; but the Wind, or rather his Mind, changing, the Earls Forces (believing he might be dead) disbanded again, and left their un­fortunate General to himself. Eighteen dayes after this the King arriv'd, who finding how things stood, for they had taken off the Heads of several of his chief Councellors, imprison'd the principallest of his Friends, and gotten the possession of many of his strong Forts and Castles, his Heart so fail'd him on the sudden, that he immediately gave Command to the Army that was with him to Disband: and so degenerate were his Fears, that when he could not prevail with them to quit him (for they all resolv'd to dye in his Defence, and being mov'd with no less Pity then Duty to see him so de­jected, solemnly vow'd never to leave him) he most wretchedly gave them the Temptation to break their Faith, by leaving them first, withdrawing himself by night unknown to Conway Castle, where he understood the Earl of Salisbury was. But as a King can no more hide himself then the Sun, which however eclipsed, cannot be lost, so it was not long ere the Duke of Here­ford found him out, and drawing his Forces to Chester, sent from thence the Earl of Northumberland to assure him of his Faith and Homage, upon Condition he would call a free Parliament, and there permit Justice to be done to him.

Here Fortune seems to have made one stand more, to give him time, if possible, to recover himself; but he instead of giving an Answer worthy the Dignity of a King, did what was indeed unworthy a Private man, begging of the Earl to interpose with the Duke for him, that he might only have an ho­norable Allowance to lead a private life, deposing himself unexpectedly before t'other could have the time and opportunity, however he might have the thought to do it solemnly. The notice hereof did not a little sur­prize the Duke, when he heard of it, who doubting least there was some­thing more in it then he perceiv'd, wisely kept himself within the bounds of seeming Obedience, and treated his Majesty with all imaginable respect, till they arrived at London: then under pretence of securing him, he lodg'd him [Page 251] in the Tower, where he made him the Instrument of his own destruction, by calling a Parliament that had no other business but to arraign his Govern­ment, and impeach him; and accordingly Articles were drawn up against him, which shew how small a matter turns the Scale when Power is put into the Ballance against Justice. The chief of them were as followeth;

• 1. That he had been very profuse [a very grievous Crime in a King so young.]
• 2. That he had put some to death [that conspired to depose him.]
• 3. That he had borrowed more money then he was well able to pay [the first King that ever lost his Crown for being in Debt, and yet was not to be said he was altogether a Bankrupt, that had in his Coffers when he dy­ed the value of Seven hundred thousand pounds.]
• 4. That he said the Law was in his Breast and Head [and perhaps the Lawyers would have made it good if they durst, who have given it for an Axiome of the Law, that the King is Caput, Principium, & Finis Justitiae.]
• 5. That he chang'd Knights and Burgesses of Parliament at his pleasure [by making those Peers of the Realm whom he thought worthy the ho­nour.]
• 6. That he said the Lives and Goods of his Subjects were under his power] [which shews what confidence he had in their Loyalty and good Af­fections.]
• 7. That he order'd an Impeachment against those Lords that took upon them the Government by Authority of Parliament [Indeavouring to reduce those under the Law that had so apparently broken through all Law.]
• 8. That in the management of that Affair he consulted with all the Judges [Whereas it had been fitter perhaps to have consulted with all the Sword-men of his Kingdom.]
• 9. That he caus'd his Uncle Gloucester to be made away privately at Calais [When he found he had not power to take him off publickly at home.]
• 10. That he took off the Earl of Arundel 's Head, notwithstanding a Charter of Pardon given him but a little before [Finding that he continued to abuse his Favour by carrying on the old Conspiracy.]
• 11. That he defended himself with Force [When the Lords assail'd him with Force.]
• 12. That though he had made Proclamation that the Lords whom he Arre­sted, were not Arrested for any Crime of Treason, yet [when he was better inform'd by his Councel] he laid Treason to their Charge [and prov'd it.]
• 13. That he grievously Fined those that took part with the Lords against him [Which being paid out of the Estates forfeited to him, was a great Discouragement to all honest men that should ever have a mind to turn Rebels afterwards.]
• 14. That when he went over into Ireland, he carried with him the Plate and Jewels of the Kingdom [Without asking any body leave, that he might appear as like a King there as he did here, which could not but be very displeasing to them that would have him like one no where.]

Upon these scarce grievous Articles he was depos'd, or rather he depos'd himself (for the Duke who had laid the Foundation of his Hypocrisie lower then to fear any under-mining, refusing (by the Example of his Grandfather) to accept the Crown, unless he would tender it to him) he became so hum­ble, [Page 252] not only to do so, but which was yet viler, made it his Suit to the U­surper to accept of it from his hand, and as it were brib'd him with the Signet on his own Finger, which he deliver'd as a Seal, to ratifie his volun­tary Resignation.

Strange Metamorphosis! When the Lion, instead of indeavouring to take that noble Revenge, which makes all the Herd to tremble, as often as they see him offended, crouches and fawns like a Dog on him that beat him. Who was not tempted to quit his Allegiance, that saw their King thus turn Tray­tor to himself, making good the dismal Presage of that River, which but a little before, to the amazement of all men, turn'd its natural Course, and left the Channel dry; forgetting the miserable Example of his Great-grand­father, who hoping to save his Life by not strugling for it, lost it with more horror, and less pity.

Who knows not that the Prisons of Princes are their Graves, from whence they ne're return, till the general Resurrection. The Usurper could not sleep at all after the Resignation, till the depos'd King slept his last, the Wrong that he had done him beating a continual Alarm upon his Conscience: neither could he eat his meat with alacrity, but sighing as he sate at Table, bemoan'd his having no Friend so faithful, or rather so faithless, as to de­liver him from his Fears, leaving those about him to guess what he meant. And no sooner did these Thoughts of his take vent, but a ready Paracide taking his Cue to be the Executioner of his black purpose, hasted unbid­den to the place where the Captive King was, and tim'd his Treason so near to that of his Order, as to take him off just as he was at meat, assailing him with eight Ruffians arm'd with Holberts, four of which this wretched King kill'd before he sunk, and possibly had deliver'd himself from the rest, had not their Captain Paracide, Sir Pierce Exon (whose Name for Infamy sake must never be forgotten) come behind him and beat out his Brains with a Pole-Axe.

Thus fell Richard the Second as his Great-grand-father Edward the Se­cond, and both as unhappily as their Ancestors William and Henry the Se­cond long before: neither of whom dyed a dry death; the first being kill'd by his own Servant, t'other by his own Sons. And whether there was any thing fatal in that Number, I know not, but so it was that the Seconds of those Kings amongst the Danes were not much more fortunate. Eric the Se­cond, Anlaff the Second, and Canute the Second, all came, as well as those amongst the Normans, to untimely Ends: the first being butcher'd by the hands of his own Sons; the second kill'd upon a mistake by one of his own Domesticks; and the last made as it were Felo de se, having drunk himself so dead, that he fell down with the Cup at his Nose. And as amongst the Normans and Danes, so 'tis observable amongst the English Monarchs, that Edward the Second, thereupon surnam'd th [...] Martyr, was murther'd by his Mother in Law; and Ethelred the Second, though he dyed not a violent, scarce dyed a timely death, being perfectly worn out with continual Trou­bles, whilst he found himself unable to recover the Consumption either of his Body or his Estate.

However, none of these were yet so unfortunate as this King, who being so unwilling and unfit to dye, yet contributed most to his own Death.

HEN. IV. date of accession 1399

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

IT hath been observ'd of Usurpers in General, that most of them have indeavour'd, but all desir'd, to lay the Foundation of their Great­ness in Religion. But we have no particular Example more remarkable then that of this King, who though he were so confessed an Usurper, that those that speak most for him, make it rather a matter of Convenience than Right, that he was admitted to the Crown, and that for his Countries sake (as they say) rather then his own; not being able to serve it so well, being a Subject, as when he was a King: Yet, as if Heaven it self had declared for him, as the only King that came in by Predestination, he rose up in Parliament, and Crossing himself with great shew of Devotion, be­gan to make his Claim In Nomine Domini, &c. as if he had been about to Conjure, saying, In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I Henry of Lancaster Claim the Crown of England, as descended by the Right Line from Henry the Third.

And 'tis observable that he claim'd in the name of the Father, not of his Father; for thereby hung a Tale, his own Father being but the fourth Son, whereas King Richard's Father was the first Son of Edward the Third. Se­condly, he claim'd in the name of the Son, forgetting whose Son he put by (for King Richard deriv'd himself from Edward the First, the eldest Son of Henry the Third, he but from Edmond Earl of Lancaster, the second Son of that Henry the Third.) Lastly, he claim'd in the Name of the Holy Ghost, smothering that check of Conscience which he was afterwards forc'd to reveal, when he came to give up the Ghost. But this we may the less wonder at, if we consider that 'twas in a time when the Devil was seen in the likeness of a Frier (as our Histories tells us) and therefore an Usurper might as well appear in the likeness of a Saint, although he had no more Morality, then what Lib. 1. Tacitus observ'd in the Emperor Galba, whom he de­scribes to be Magis extra vitia quam cum virtutibus.

Such was his power that no man contradicted him, Heaven having de­creed that he should contradict himself: for at the same time he made out his Title by Descent, he acknowledged that he came in by Conquest, assuring the People that every one should enjoy his own, as freely as in times of Law­ful Succession (they are his own words) but when he came to treat with For­reign Princes, that were as well vers'd in the nature of Politick Treache­ries as himself, he pretended then to be chosen by the unanimous Consent and Election of the People; to whom, that he might appear restor'd as by Divine Providence, he appointed the day of his Coronation to be upon the very same day, wherein the year before he had been Banished: and to hold up the Cheat, he was anointed with an Oyl, which (as 'twas pretended) was deliver'd to his Father, together with this Prophesie, That all the Kings that receiv'd their Chrisme from it should be Champions of the Church; which (as the Legend holds forth) coming by chance to the hands of King Richard, as he was going for Ireland, he would have been anointed there­with, had not the Arch-bishop of Canterbury disswaded him from it, as not being lawful to be anointed twice; however he was resolv'd to intitle him­self self so far to the vertue of it, as to stile himself Defensor Fidei.

The only man that withstood this Kings Usurpation, and would not be perswaded to swim down the Stream with the rest of the Time-serving No­bility, was the bold Bishop of Carlisle, who having so frankly discharged himself upon the occasion of Debating in Parliament, what should be done with King Richard (for as yet they had not taken away his Life, though they had taken his Crown) and by a Speech as eloquent as pious, shew'd what was the Complexion and Face of those Jugling Times, and what was ex­pected, from what was done, and what was done upon the found of the present Expectations. I have thought it a respect due to the honour of his singular Merit, to set it down expresly as he spoke it, to the end the Reader may judge whether he had not Reason enough to justifie his Passion (and pity 'twas he had not power enough to justifie that Reason) when combining with others of the same Judgment to Restore his true Soveraign, he gloriously lost himself in the Attempt, and with himself the unfortunate King he would have saved: The words of his Speech were as follow­eth;

Those last words express'd a Zeal that seem'd to have something of the same effect as that of Lightning, which is said to melt the Sword without so much as singeing the Scabard: For however no body that heard him, ap­peard to be warm by what he said, yet a secret Fire was shot into many of their Breasts, that after it came to be thorowly kindled in their Con­sciences, could not be extinguish'd, no not with Blood: so that they continued their Resentments not for their own Lives only, but intail'd the Quarrel upon their Posterity, even untill the House of Clarence recover'd their Right in the third Generation after.

Now as a Clergy-man first declar'd against this King, so a Clergy-man first Ingaged against him, without considering his holy Unction, which made him the great Champion of the Church (for however the Church-men are willing that others should belive their Miracles, themselves do not) this was the politick Abbot of Westminster, a great Book-states-man, who in­vited several of the Chief Nobility into a Combination to take away his Life (so that Killing no Murther, is no Modern Tenet) and admitting what he suspected only, there might be some reason for it; for who would not dispatch an Enemy to God, the King, and the Church, one that therefore had unduly made himself King, that he might rob the great King of Kings of his due: the ground of this Jealousie was upon certain words utter'd in the Abbots hearing, whilst he was Duke of Hereford; viz. That Princes had too little, and Clergy-men too much: upon which he concluded he would be a Persecutor of the Church, rather then a Patron. Neither it seems was the Abbot only of that Opinion, but the Nation in general; otherwise the House of Commons would not (as they did afterward) frame a Bill for setling the Church Lands in the Crown, as believing it would be an accep­table Oblation to him: Upon which this Abbot, and the Bishop before nam'd, and five Temporal Lords, to wit, the Dukes of Exeter, Surry, and Albemarle, and the two Earls of Salisbury and Gloucester, with many Knights and Gentlemen their Friends, complotted to dispatch him at a publick Just or Tournament to be held at Oxford, where they hop'd, com­ing arm'd (as the fashion was upon such Occasions) they might as easily take him off, as the Roman Senate did Caesar: neither indeed was the Plot ill laid, had not the same Power that set him up, protected him against all their Machinations, diverting the Destiny upon themselves by such a strange and unexpected discovery, as shews that Secresie in Treason signifies nothing, unless it could be hid from the All-seeing Eye of Providence. The Duke of Albemarle in his way to Oxford, gave a needless visit to his Father the [Page 256] Duke of York, who sitting at the Table, chanced to spy something like a Scrole or Parchment in his Sons Breast, whereupon he demanded what it was, and being not satisfied, suddenly he snatched it out with some pas­sion: and upon view, finding it to be a Counterpart of the Indenture of Confederacy, he ordered his Horses to be immediately made ready, with intention to go to the King, then at Windsor, to discover the Plot to him: but Youth being more active then Age, the Son got before him, and being himself the first Accuser of himself, obtain'd his Pardon before his Father could come to prove him Guilty. The rest of the Lords suspecting by his not keeping time with them, that all was discover'd, fly to Arms, and setting up a Counterfeit Richard, who they pretended was escaped out of Prison, they advanced to Windsor, where not finding the King (for he distrusting his Cause no less then his Power, had posted before to London) they sell upon desperate Counsels: Some were of Opinion to march to Leeds in Kent, where King Richard till then was, and rescue him out of Pri­son, before their Property was found out: Others thought it best to march directly up to London, and set upon the Usurper before he were ready for his Defence: Some again advised to make a defensive War, till they might have Aid from the King of France; which last Proposal took place, as being most agreeable to that Irresolution which their Guilt had brought upon them: and accordingly they retreated to Reading, and from thence marched down to Leicester, led by the hand of Destiny to receive there their fatal Doom, accelerated by an Accident not less unexpected then the former: For it so happen'd that the Grand Conspirators coming out of their Camp to repose themselves in the Town, the Duke of Surrey and Earl of Salisbury lying in one Inne, the Duke of Exeter and the Earl of Gloucester in another, the Bayliff of the Town (by what occasion pro­voked, or by what Spirit directed is not known) with a Party of his Fellow Townes-men, set upon the two first, and stormed them in their Quarters, and without consideration that their Army was so near, press'd so hard upon them, as to kill divers of their Retinue that defended the place, and indanger'd their Persons so far, that the other two Lords, to divert their Fury, fired the Town in several places; but this not pre­vailing to give any Relief, they retired to bring their Army to rescue them: but when they came there, they found the same means by which they design'd to save them, was the occasion of their loss; for those in the Camp hearing the Noise of the Onset, and seeing the Town in Flames, believing it could be nothing less then the Kings Forces that had done it, fled every one their several wayes, and so left the distressed Duke and Earl to mercy, who, like two Lions in a Toil baited with Dogs, dyed fighting, being rather wearied then vanquished. And so King Henry, that never could get their Hearts living, had the good Fortune to recover their Heads being dead; and not long after found a way to reduce the o­ther two under the same Fate, the Abbot suddenly dying upon the ap­prehension of their being dissipated.

This last Insurrection cost so much of the best English Blood, that those of the Welch Blood thought the State so much weakned by it, that they might venture to wrastle a Fall with them; and accordingly they put in for the recovery of their antient Liberties, being incouraged by one Owen Glendour, a private Gentleman of more then ordinary Reputation a­mongst them, who mov'd with the sense of a particular Grudge of his own, incited them to a general Defiance of the English: And first set­ting upon the Lord Gray of Ruthin, who had recover'd certain Lands from [Page 257] him at Law, took him Prisoner, and repossess'd himself of them: after this storming the Castle of Wigmore, he took the great Earl of Ma [...]ch Pri­soner (the true Heir of the Crown after the death of King Richard) and prevail'd so far, that had he been as skilful in keeping, as he was in getting of Victories, he might have made himself Master of that Great­ness, as would have been as much above his Enemies Prevention as his own Ambition.

King Henry hearing that Mortimer was taken, caus'd it to be bruted abroad that it was done with his own Consent, and thereupon refus'd to redeem him: which so incens'd Henry, sirnamed Hotspur, Son of the first Earl of Northumberland of the Family of the Peircy's, who had married his Daughter, that he, together with his Uncle the Earl of Wor­cester went over to Glendour, and entring into a Tripartite League with him, agreed to Depose the Deposer, and divide the whole Kingdom be­twixt them. Wales (that is, all the Land beyond Severn Westward) was to be the Principality of Glendour. The Countries from Trent Northward, was the Lot of the Peircy's; in memory whereof (the same being in the Geographical Form of a half Moon) they have since given the Crescent for the Cognizance. All the rest betwixt Severn and Trent Eastward and Southward, was consign'd to Mortimer as his Portion. Thus the Dragon, the Lion, and the Wolf conspired against the Ante­lope, as he before against the Hart, his Soveraign; and taught by him­self, they assaulted him with Arms and Articles; the last perhaps more dangerous then the first, by how much they fought him at his own Weapons. The first Article was, That he had by his Letters procured Burgesses and Knights of Parliament to be chosen unduly: which being one of the Arrows out of his own Quiver, with which he had wounded King Richard before, troubled him not a little to see it return'd back upon himself. The second Article was, That he had falsified the Oath made at his first landing, when he swore he came over for no other end but to recover his Inheritance. The third was, That he had not only taken Arms against his Soveraign, but having imprison'd him, took first his Crown a­way, and after his Life. And lastly, That ever since his death, he had detain'd the Crown from the true Heir, Edmund Earl of March their Allie; for which Causes they defied him, and vowed his Destruction.

This was the second Earth-quake in this Kings Reign, and so much more terrible then the former, in that it shuck the very Foundation of all his Greatness, by the noise of their Calumniations, wherewith as they bat­ter'd him several wayes, so they left him the prospect of nothing but dismal Confusion to ensue. The Welch goaded him on the one side, the Scots on the other, those English of Mortimer's party, allarm'd him e­very way. But he that wanted not Confidence (whilst he wanted a Ti­tle) to aspire to the Crown, when it was uncertain whether he should ever get it or no; having got it, could not want Courage to keep it: and if he were able (being but a private man) to get it from a King, why should he not believe himself more able (being now a King) to keep it from private men, especially since he that had the Right in the first place had resign'd it up to him; and he that had it in the second place, had so far joyn'd in the final recovery of it, as to swear Allegiance to him, at the time of that Resignation.

These Considerations were of that weight, that taking warning by King Richard, never to tempt any to forsake him, by forsaking himself, he resolved to fall up [...]n them before they united. At Shrewsbury the [Page 258] Peircy's and he met, they being back'd by divers Scots, he by as many English: himself lead up that Wing which was against the Earl of Worcester; his Son Henry, the Prince of Wales, that against Hotspur: this, as it was the first Battel the Prince was ever in, so here his Father taught him how to Rule, by shewing him how to fight. In either of which noble quali­ties there was never any Prince proud to be an apter Scholar then he, for he slew no less then thirty six men that day with his own hand, as those who followed him observ'd; and as one that resolv'd to be anointed with Blood before he came to be anointed with Oyl, he prest into the midst of the Battel, where he receiv'd several wounds, but one more remarkable then the rest, by an Arrow in his Face, which either he had not time or patience to pluck out, till he had dispatch'd his Rival Hotspur, who was the only Enemy that vyed with him for hear of Youth and Courage. After this Worcester and the Douglas submitted to be his Prisoners; the Day being so clearly gain'd by his single Conduct, that Fortune seems to have given it to him as an earnest of those greater Victories he was to have afterward. The fame of this signal overthrow made all Glendour's For­ces scatter ere the King could arrive upon the place to fight them, leaving him so much more a Victor, by having no Victory: For that in truth to have beaten him upon a fair dispute, might have been understood to have been the effect of unequal Power; whereas the making him fly before he came near him, shews what apprehension t'other had of his invincible Courage. After this there was some trouble, but no great disturbance given this King, by the French, the Attempts they made being either so faint or successless, that they rather gave his Successor an Invitation then a Provocation to invade them afterward. The Resentments the Earl of Northumberland had of the death of his Son and Brother, put him upon renewing the Rebellion, being back'd by the Arch-bishop of York, Mow­bray Earl-Marshal, and others: but their Forces being disbanded by a trick, the two last were taken, and having justly forfeited their Heads, for that they had no more Brains in them then to believe the King would send a General against them of their own Faction; they were executed accord­ingly: but Northumberland himself escap'd into Scotland, being reserv'd it seems by Destiny for a Nobler Death, he and the Lord Bardolph being both slain afterwards at Branham Moor, the last Battel that was fought in this Kings time; who being born to live no longer then whiles he was in Tur­moyls, and being inclin'd to make some expiation for all the Noble Blood he had shed to make good his Usurpation, design'd at last to joyn Valour and Devotion in one Action together, which before he had used but singly, and accordingly took upon him the Crusado, intending to sub­mit to the Decree of Destiny, which had appointed (as he was told by a Figure-Caster) that he should dye in Jerusalem. Neither could he want a sufficient Train of Voluntiers, there being so many in that Igno­rant Age who were of the same Opinion with him that it was happier to perish in that Holy War, then escape. This made the Prince his Son, who till this time had given himself the Liberty to commit such Extravagancies as ill became any man, but least a Prince, dishonouring himself no less by the dissolute Company he kept, then by the Debaucheries they ingaged him in, begin to take up, in expectation of the Succession, and submit­ting to his Father and the Laws, so govern'd himself, that the People might perceive he was at length become fit to govern them: but whiles prepara­tions were making for the Kings great Voyage to his long home at Jerusa­lem, as he thought, the Journey prov'd neither so long nor chargeable as [Page 259] was expected; an Apoplectick fit seizing him whiles he was at his Devoti­on in the Abby of Westminster, whereupon he was carried in immediately into the Abbots House, and there unwittingly put to Bed in that Chamber which they call'd Jerusalem; which, as soon as he understood, and came thereby to unriddle the place of his Death, he was so wounded with the context, that he never recover'd it, but languishing, dyed not long after; having first had a taste of Divine vengeance, in seeing himself deposed in a manner by his own Son, before he was dead; who finding him in one of his Fits, and (as 'twas thought) breathless, took the Crown from off his Pillow (where he kept it all his Sickness, as that the very sight whereof was a kind of restorative to him) which however it was return'd again with unfeigned humility, yet the miss of it but for that moment only, gave such a check to his Conscience, that before he could bequeath it to his Son for good and all, as we say, he could not but acknowledge how little Right he had to it; and dying, submitted his Title to him that is the only Judge of injured Kings.

HEN. V. date of accession 1412

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

VNE AN PLVS

THOSE that have taken the Height of this King, have parallel'd with no less then three of the Nine Worthies of the World, compa­ring him with David the Prophet for Piety, being therefore call'd the Prince of Priests: with Caesar the Invincible, for affectation of Glory: and with Alexander the Great, for Magnanimity. But those that place him side by side with them, will see he was much above them all: for as he was not so Lascivious as David, having never had any other Mistress be­sides her he made his Wife (although Fortune being his Handmaid, gave him greater temptations that way then ever t'other had) So neither was he so vain-glorious as Caesar, or so intemperate as Alexander, who were in­deed great Conquerors, but short of him in this, that conquering others, they could not conquer themselves, but even when they were Lords of the World became Slaves to their own Passions. And as he had the better of [Page 260] them in his parts, so he fell not short of any of them in his Fortune: for neither was he so mortified as David; nor so much envied as Caesar; much less so much fear'd as Alexander; it being his good hap never to be distrest, distrusted, or despised. Two Instances remain upon Record of the Re­spect the scop [...]e shew'd to him beyond any of his Predecessors: the first given by the Nobi [...]ity, who swore Allegiance to him before he was crown'd, I cannot say before he had the Crown (for as I said before, he took it from his Fathers Pillow as soon as he thought him dead, but restor'd it again as soon as he appear'd alive;) the other from the Commonalty, who gave him a Subsidy before ever he ask'd it: a President as rare as the other, and more to be wondred at, since the first might be an Act of Security, or per­haps Fear, but this last could be nothing but a pure effect of Duty and Af­fection.

The only men that were jealous of him, as of his Father before him, were the Clergy, who suspecting he had a mind to turn Priest, that is, to as­sume all Spiritual Power into his own hands (as questionless his Father de­sign'd) and become (as Henry the Eighth afterwards) Papa Patriae; or that at least he would take some of the choicest Jewels out of their Miters to place in his Crown (there being a Bill then depending in Parliament for devesting them of their Temporalities) they consulted how they might di­vert so impendent a mischief, which seem'd easier to prevent then resist: and knowing by the Temperament of their own Constitutions, that there was no more powerful a Temptation then that which at once gratifies a mans Ambition, Avarice, and Revenge, they found a way to divert him from the wrong they feared to be done to them by ingaging him in a proje­ction that was to do himself right: The principal mannager of this commen­dable Projection was the politick Arch-bishop of Canterbury, who held the Rudder of State at that time, and could turn the Vessel as he pleas'd; he taking occasion in the very first Parliament that was call'd by this King, to start the Right of England to the Crown of France, set forth his own E­loquence and the Kings Title so well, deducing his Descent in a direct Line from the Lady Isabel, Daughter to Philip the Fourth, and Wife to his Grandfather Edward the Second, and refuting all the old beaten Arguments brought from the Salique Law to oppose it (as being neither consistent with Divinity, Reason, or Example) he at once pleas'd and convinced all his Hearers, but most especially the King himself, who seem'd to be inspired with a Prophetick confidence of that success, which after he had: but scorning to steal any Advantage, or wrong the Justice of his Title somuch, as to seem to doubt 'twould be denied, before he would make any kind of preparation for the Conquest, he sent Ambassadors to Charles the Sixth, to demand a peaceable surrender of the Crown to him, offering to accept his Daughter with the Kingdom, and to expect no other pawn for his Pos­session till after his death. This Message as it was the highest that ever was sent to any free Prince, so he intrusted it to those of highest Credit and Trust about him: these were his Uncle the Duke of Exeter, a man of great esteem as well as of great Name, the Arch-bishop of Dublin, a very politick Prelate, the Lord Gray, a man at Arms, the Lord High Admiral, and the Bishop of Norwich; the first as much renown'd for his Courage, as the last for his Contrivances, to whom for the greater state there was ap­pointed a Guard of five hundred Horse to attend them.

The Report of this great Embassy as it arriv'd before them, so it made such a Report throughout all this side of the World, that all the Neighbour Princes, like lissening Deer when they hear the noyse of Huntsmen in the [Page 261] Woods, began to take the Alarm, and consider which side to sly to; it be­ing so that England and France never made any long War upon one ano­ther, but they ingaged all Christendom with them: However, the Court of France pretending themselves ignorant of the Occasion of their coming, dissembled their disdain, and treated them with that magnificence, as if they had design'd to Complement them out of their business: but after the Message was delivered with that faithful boldness that became so great an Affair, they were all in that confusion, that it was hard to judge whether they were more ashamed, incensed, or afraid; giving such a return as seem'd neither compatible with the honour, wisdom, or courage of so renown'd a People as they are: For first, as they did neither deny nor allow the Kings Title, but said they would make Answer by Ambassadours of their own: So in the next place they were so hasty in their Counsels, and the dis­patch of their Ambassadors hither, that they arriv'd in England almost as soon as those sent hence. And lastly, at the same time they desired Peace, and offer'd to buy it with the tender of some Towns, they gave the King an Affront which was a greater Provocation then the denyal of ten such Kingdoms: for the Daulphin, who in respect of the King his Fathers sick­ness (I might rather say weakness) managed the State, affecting the honour to give the first Box, or perhaps desiring to make any other Quarrel the ground of the approaching War, which he foresaw was not to be preven­ted, rather then that of the Title which had been already so fatally bandi'd, scornfully sent the King a Present of Tenis-balls, which being of no value, nor reckoning, worthy so great a Princes acceptance, or his recommen­dation, could have no other meaning or interpretation, but, as one should say, he knew better how to use them then Bullets. The King, whose Wit was as keen as t'others Sword, return'd him this Answer, That in requital of his fine Present of Tenis-balls, he would send him such Balls, as he should not dare to hold up his Racket against them. Neither was he worse then his word, however his preparations seem'd very disproportionable for so great a Work. For the Army he landed was no more but six thousand Horse and twenty four thousand Foot: a Train so inconsiderable, and by the Daulphin judg'd to be so despicable, that he thought not fit to come down himself in Person to take any view of them, for fear he should fright them out of the Country too soon, but sent some rude Peasants to attend their Motion, who, incouraged by some of the Troops of the nearest Garrisons, as little understanding the danger they were ingaged in, as they did the lan­guage of the Enemy they were ingaged with, fell in upon the Rear of his Camp: but as Village Curs, which fiercely set upon all Strangers, having the least Rebuke with a Stone or a Cudgel, retreat home whining with their Tails betwixt their Legs, so they having a Repulse given them ran away, and made such Out-cries as dishearten'd the Souldiers that were to second them so much, that after that he marched without any Resistance as far as Callice: Neither indeed saw he any Enemy till he came to give Battel to the united Forces of France at that famous Field of Agencourt, where, not­withstanding he was out-numbred by the French above five for one, he fought them with that Resolution, as made himself Master of more Pri­soners then he had men in his Camp to keep them; an Occasion Fortune gave him to shew at once her Cruelty and his Mercy: who, whilst he might have kill'd did not; but when he should not, was forc'd to be cruel, be­yond almost all Example: for as he gave Quarter in the beginning of the Battel to all that ask'd it, his Clemency and Gentleness being such that (as he was then pleas'd to declare) he consider'd them as his Subjects, not as his [Page 262] Captives. So being over-charged with their Prisoners Numbers, upon a sudden and unexpected accident (however of no great Consequence, if it had been rightfully understood) he was forc'd to write the dismal Fate of France in cold Blood, and in order to the saving life, destroy it. For as he was seeing his wounded men drest, having gotten an intire Victory, as he thought, and as afterward it proved, a sudden out-cry alarm'd his Camp, occasion'd by a new Assault of some French Troops, who being the first had quit the Field, were the first return'd into it again, in hopes by fighting with Boyes, to regain the honour they lost in refusing to fight with men: these under the Leading of the Captain of Agencourt, set up­on the Pages, Sutlers, and Laundresses, following the pursuit with that wonted noyse, as if they would have the English think the whole Army was rally'd again, and chasing them: Upon this the King caus'd all the scatter'd Arms and Arrows to be recollected, and his stakes to be new pitch'd, and put himself into a posture of Defence: neither were the English only deceived by the Shreiks and Cries of those miserable People that fell into these mens hands, but all those of the French likewise that were within hearing; insomuch that the Earls of Marle and Falconbridge, who with six hundred men at Arms had all the while stood conceal'd to take the first advantage offer'd them, advanc'd upon the same mistake, to reinforce the Battel, who seeming in the Night more then they were (for indeed the English suppos'd it the whole Body of the French Army return'd again upon them) the King not knowing how to disperse them, commanded all the Prisoners to be forthwith slain, save some few Persons of Note, who for common security were bound back to back.

This made it a bloody Victory indeed, that look'd more like a Miracle before, there being ten thousand of the Enemy slain, and (if we may be­lieve Caxton) not above twenty six of the English side. P. Aemilius, their own Historian, saith not above ten private Souldiers, two Knights, and two Lords, which were the Duke of York and the Duke of Suffolk, that bore no proportion to the five hundred Knights and twenty six Lords lost on the other side, amongst whom the Daulphin himself may be reckon'd for one, though he died not on the place; for struck with the apprehen­sions of this loss, he surviv'd it a very little time after. However, the English got only the glory of being Victors, but not a foot of ground more then they had before; Providence having so ordained that King Henry should only gain a Name in Arms by his first Expedition, that upon his next Arrival they might the more contentedly give him up the Crown, and with it, her that dazled his Eyes more then all the Jewels he found there, the incomparable Lady Katherine, to whose Excellency of Beau­ty was added that of Innocence, which made her yet more desirable for a Wife, then the other made her for a Mistress.

Not long after this Battel he return'd home, as if to give and take breath; and during the time of his stay here, the Emperour Sigismund, attended by the Arch-bishop of Rheimes, gave him a personal Visit, in hope to have made a Peace betwixt the two Kings, at least 'twas so pretended: but time that is the best Expositor of all great Actions, shews his coming to have had some further design in it; otherwise his Mediation had not en­ded (as it did) in a League Offensive and Defensive, leaving King Henry to follow Providence in the pursuit of his predestin'd Conquest, who, upon his second Expedition invaded Normandy, and having in a short time taken in the City of Caen, with most of the lesser Villes, came at last to that proud Town of Roan, which spent him some time longer then [Page 263] he expected in taking it: But it prov'd not time lost; for the Essay they made of their own Strength and Courage (being at the beginning of the Seige no less then two thousand Persons in it, most able to make Defence) gave the World such proof of his, that he gain'd much more in Interest then he lost, in recovering the Principal, there being surren­dred to him upon the Fame of taking in that great City, Hunflew, Mun­ster, Devilliers, Ewe, New-castle, Vernon, Mant, La Roch, Gwyon, and indeed the best, if not the most part of that rich Province, the anci­ent Inheritance of his Progenitors.

That which contributed much to his Success, was the difference be­twixt the new Daulphin, and the old Duke of Burgundy. The first, as much disdaining that the other should have the Government of the King, who was taken with a frenzy that made him incapable of Business, as the other that he should have the Government of the Kingdom, either thinking himself immediately concerned in the danger of the others Pow­er, neglected the Publick to abet their Private Factions. The Queen Mother, who could not be a Neuter, took part with the Duke, into whose hands she put the King, purposely to curb the Daulphins pride, (that had most insolently seiz'd and detain'd her Jewels, Plate and Mo­ney) contesting for the Superiority without regard to him that put fair for subduing both. But the noise of King Henry's unexpected Success in subduing almost all Normandy, awaken'd them; and now, when 'twas too late, they reconcil'd to each other in hopes to drive back the Eng­lish: But finding that they had taken rooting in too many places to be suddenly over-turn'd, the Duke of Burgundy proposes a Personal Treaty betwixt the two Kings: whither came King Henry, attended by his Brothers the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, his Cosin the Duke of Exeter, his Uncle the Cardinal Beauford, the Earls of March and Sa­lisbury, and a thousand Men at Arms; being met by the Queen Regent and her Governour, the Duke of Burgundy, the Earl of St. Paul, and several other Persons of the greatest Quality, as well Ladies as Lords, who were obliged to attend her. Amongst the rest (and therefore indeed did the rest come that they might be as Foyls to her) appear'd the Prin­cess Katherine, design'd (as it fell out after) to conquer the Conqueror: A Lady of that Perfection both of Body and Mind, that had she not been the Daughter of a King, she had yet been fit to be the Wife of one. No sooner did King Henry look upon her, but his Heart seem'd to melt within his Breast, no Arms being proof against the Darts she shot; yet his Wisdom had so much the better of his Affection, that he conceal'd his Passion both from her, and the Observation of the French Lords, till the Duke of Burgundy trifling with him, upon presumption of her Charms, provok'd him to give a Reply more like an English then a French King, and created such a Distast as broke off the present Treaty.

Happy had it been for that Duke if he had closed with him, although his Enemy, rather then agree (as he did) with his Friend the Daulphin, who finding his turn serv'd by him in breaking off the Treaty, having no further use of his Authority, rewarded his Service with a Poniard; which Butchery being perform'd in the view of all the Peers of France, was look'd on like a piece of Justice rather then of Tyranny, in respect the Duke himself had but a little before caus'd Lewis Duke of Orleance to be taken off in the like barbarous manner. Successor to this slain Duke both in his Estate and Authority was his Son Philip Earl of Carolois: a Politick Prince and Temperate, who finding it would be an unequal [Page 264] Contest between him and the Daulphin, if he should avowedly indea­vour to revenge his Fathers blood; wisely promoted Overtures of Peace betwixt the two Crowns, in order to the doing that Execution by ano­ther Hand, which his own was too weak to perform. Ambassadours were thereupon sent to King Henry, who having been all this while a Martyr to Love, was no longer able to indure the Flames within his Breast, but giving it vent, told the Ambassadours he would not credit their Propositions, unless the Lady Katherine would joyn with them, whose Innocency he knew would never abuse him. Notice hereof be­ing given to the Queen, the Bishop of Arras was dispatch'd away to signifie to him, that if he would come to Troyes, she should be there, to be espoused to him; and with her, he should have the Assurance of the Crown of France, after the Decease of her Father: and to gain the more Credit, the Bishop secretly deliver'd him a Letter from the Princess her own hand; which contained in it so much sweetness, as had been enough to have made any other man but himself have surfeited with Joy, his happi­ness being now so full and compleat, that he had nothing beyond what he enjoyed to hope for.

Upon his Marriage with her, he was published Regent of the King­dom, and Heir apparent to the Crown, the Articles being published in both Realms, and the two Kings and all their Nobility Sworn to the observance of them; only the Daulphin stood out in utter Defiance both of his Right and Power. Against him therefore the two Kings, his Father and Brother, together with the King of Scots (who was newly arrived) the young Duke of Burgundy, and the Prince of Orange, the Dukes of Clarence, Gloucester, and Bedford, and twenty one Earls, forty five Barons, and Knights and Esquires sans nombre, advanc'd with an Army of French, English, Scotch and Irish, to the number of six hun­dred thousand, if the Historians of that time may be credited; and ha­ving taken in all the Towns and Places that denied to yield, they re­turn'd to Paris, where King Henry (the Articles being ratified the se­cond time, and a Counterpart sent into England) began to exercise his Regency, by Coyning of Money with the Arms of England and France on it; placing and displacing of Officers; making new Laws and E­dicts; and lastly, awarding Process against the Daulphin to appear at the Marble Table, to answer for the Murther of the Duke of Burgundy. But being willing to shew his Queen how great a King he was before she brought him that Kingdom, he left his Brother Clarence his Lieutenant General there, and brought her over into England, where he spent some time in the Administration of Justice, and performing such Acts of Peace, as spoke him no less expert in the knowledge of governing, then in that of getting a Kingdom.

But he had not been long here, before he received the sad News of the death of his Brother Clarence, who betrayed by the Duke of Alan­sons Contrivance into an Ambuscade, was slain, together with the Earls of Tankervile, Somerset, Suffolk, and Perch, and about two thousand Common Souldiers: whereupon he deputed the Earl of Mortaine in his room, and not long after went back again himself with his Brother Bed­ford, to reinforce the War, taking in all the Fortresses in the Isle of France, in Lovaine, Bry, and Champagne: during which time the Daul­phin was not idle, but industrious to regain Fortunes savour, if it were possible, made many bold Attempts upon several places in possession of the English. But finding the Genius of our Nation to have the Predomi­nancy [Page 265] over that of his own, he diverted his Fury upon the Duke of Bur­gundy; betwixt whom and King Henry he put this difference, That as he dreaded the one, so he hated the other. Accordingly he laid Seige to Cosney, a Place not very considerable in it self; but as it was a Town of the Duke of Burgundy's. King Henry was so concern'd to relieve it, be­yond any of his own, that he marched Night and Day to get up to the Enemy, and making over-hasty Journeys, over-heat himself with unusual Travel, and fell so sick, that he was fain to rest himself at Senlis, and trust to the Care of his Brother the Duke of Bedford to prosecute the Design, who relieved the Town, and forced the Daulphin to retreat, as he thought a great Looser by the Seige, but it prov'd quite otherwise: For the loss of the Town was nothing in comparison of the loss of King Henry, who died not long after; and which made his Death the more deplorable was, That he no sooner left the World, but Fortune left the English, whereof having some Prophetick Revelation, 'tis thought the knowledge thereof might not be the least reason of shortning his Dayes, by adding to the vio­lence of his Distemper: For 'tis credibly reported, that at the News of the Birth of his Son Henry, born at Windsor, himself being then in France, even wearied with continual Victories, he cryed out in a Prophetick Rap­ture, Good Lord, Henry of Monmouth shall small time Reign and get much, and Henry of Windsor shall long time Reign and lose all; but Gods will be done. Which saying has given occasion to some to magnifie his Memory a­bove all the Kings that were before him, not to say all that came after him, in that he was in some sense both King, Priest, and Prophet.

HEN. VI. date of accession 1422

FOR the three last Generations, England was so happy in a Race of Valiant and Wise Princes, as none of the Neighbour Nations had ever the like good Fortune: All the Sons of King Edward the Third, and in truth the Sons of their Sons (though one, and he the Chief, miscarried) being men of an extraordinary Strain. Henry the Fourth had four Sons all so valiant, that, as a Modern Historian observes, each might have been known to be his Son, and Henry the Fifth to have been the Eldest. But now (as if Nature had quite wasted it self, and spent all its Spirits, or rather as if it had been tired in following Pro­vidence, that call'd still for a Supply of the bravest men) it shrunk on the sudden into such a Degeneracy, that had it not been that the Ver­tues of his Mother were so well known as they were, the Vertues of his Father would have rendred this King justly suspected not to have been his Son: but as Philosophers tell us that Women oftentimes conceive by the strength of their own Inclinations, with a very little help of man; so we may conclude that his Mother begat him of her self by her self, be­ing a Woman so devout, that if ever any one may be said to be the Child of Prayer, he was: and she being the Daughter of so crazy a Prince as Charles the Sixth of France, 'tis the less wonder she should bring forth such a crazy Son as this Henry the Sixth of England.

A Prince of excellent Parts in their kind, though not of kindly Parts for a Prince; being such as were neither sit for the Warlike Age he was born in, nor agreeable to the Glory he was born to, but such ra­ther as better became a Priest then a Prince: So that the Title which was sometimes given to his Father with relation to his Piety, might better have been applyed to the Son with reference to his, that he was the Prince of Priests: Herein only was the difference betwixt them, That the Reli­gion of the one made him bold as a Lion, that of the other made him as meek as a Lamb. A temper neither happy for the times nor himself; [Page 267] for had he had less Phlegme and more Cholar, less of the Dove-like In­nocence, and more of the Serpentine subtilty, 'tis probable he had not only been happier whilst he liv'd, but more respected after he was dead: whereas now, notwithstanding all his Indulgence to the Church and Church-men, there was none of them so grateful as to give him after he was murther'd) Christian Burial, but left him to be interr'd without Priest or Prayer, without Torch or Taper, Mass or Mourner; indeed so without any regard to his Person and Pre-eminence, that if his Obsequies were any whit better then that which holy Writ calls the Burial of an Ass, yet were they such, that his very Competitor Edward the Fourth, who denied him the Rights of Majesty living, thought him too much wronged being dead, that to him (some kind of satisfaction) he was himself at the charge of building him a Monument.

The beginning of his Reign, which every Body expected to have been the worst, and like to prove the most unsuccessful part in respect of his Minority (being but Nine Months old when he was crown'd) happen'd to be the best and most prosperous, there being a plentiful stock of brave men left to spend upon, who behaved themselves so uprightly and carefully, that it appear'd the Trust repos'd in them by the Father, had made a strong Impression of Love and Loyalty to the Son. The Duke of Bedford had the Regency of France; the Duke of Gloucester the Govern­ment of England; the Duke of Exeter and the Cardinal Beauford had the Charge of his Person: and each of these, whilst they stood as free Agents, and counterpoiz'd each others Greatness, kept the Scale [...]even, maintain­ing by the Sword what was got by the Sword. But after the King came to be declar'd Major, and at his own dispose, having not the Judgment to conceal his own Weakness, much less to controul their Potency, Fa­ction and Ambition broke in upon the Government, and made such a Rupture in the Reputation of their former Successes, that the French King back'd by many Seconds (who yet were not so much his Friends, as Enemies to the English) took that advantage to reinforce his Credit, and press'd so hard upon them, that all the well-built Frame of their For­tune crack'd from top to bottom.

However there were three fatal Breaches made in it before all fell to pieces: The first Flaw was occasion'd by the Rupture betwixt the Duke of Bedford and the Duke of Burgundy, who divided about a meer Pun­ctillio of Honour, who should first come to the place where they had ap­pointed to treat of the Differences betwixt them. The Duke of Bedford thought the other ought to attend his coming, in respect he was Regent of France; t'other thought he ought rather to expect him, it being in his own Dominions where he was absolute Soveraign: upon which they parted, the Duke of Burgundy lest the English, and the Duke of Bedford not long after the World. And this unhappy King became so much the greater Sufferer, by how much the reparation of that loss prov'd more fatal then the loss it self; for as it was as difficult, as necessary, to find out a good Successor to that great Trust, so he was not a little opprest by the Importunity of two Competitors, who being men of like Anger and Ambition, caus'd a more fatal Breach then the former. These were the Dukes of Somerset and York: the first Grandson to John of Gaunt, and Grandfather to Henry the Se­venth; the last, yet greater, in respect of his Descent from Lyonel Duke of Clarence, being Head of the White-rose Faction; both equal in Blood and Merit, either too Great to be displeas'd, much more too Am­bitious to be pleas'd.

In this Contest the Duke of York got the Ball, and from his Success concluded 'twas possible (as he did afterward) to get the Scepter too, being by the Mothers side the right Heir to Richard the Second: but the Duke of Somerset resolving to revenge his loss by the hazard of loosing the whole, gave him so many Interruptions in his Dispatch of that great Charge, that before he could arrive in France, the Parisians had shuck off their Yoke, and by their Example, the Revolt became so general, that even the Normans themselves (ever before firm to the Eng­lish) were upon the point also of changing their Allegiance.

The third and most fatal Breach, was that betwixt the Uncle and Nephew, the Cardinal Beauford and the Duke of Gloucester. The Duke charg'd the Cardinal with Affectation of Pre-eminence, even to the De­rogation of the Kings Prerogative and Contempt of his Laws: the Car­dinal not finding Matter to recriminate so Personally upon him himself, ac­cus'd his other self, to wit, his Wife, to be a Sorceress, and one that by Witchcraft attempted to take away the Kings Life: Which whether it were true or no, was so well managed, that her pretended Crime was in effect made his; for by the help of the Queen (to whom the King had been espoused by advice of the Cardinal, and the Marquiss, after made Duke of Suffolk, his Creature, against the advice of this good Duke (for so the People call'd him) they prevail'd with the weak King, first to exclude him the Councel, after to deprive him of all Commands, and lastly to take away his Life too; not foreseeing (so improvident was their Malice) that as long as he liv'd, his Primogeniture (being de­scended from the Fourth Son of Edward the Third) would have kept back the Duke of York's Claim, that came from the Fifth Son. For his Death gave the first Occasion of beginning that desperate War betwixt the two alike cruel Houses of York and Lancaster, who so wasted them­selves by Alternate Successes, like Plants which cut in the Spring, bleed themselves to death, that they left no Issue to inherit their dear-bought Titles, and were thereby necessitated for the same Reason to unite in the last, as they divided in the first place, to wit, to entail that fatal Glo­ry upon their Posterity, which they found to wither (do what they could) as the Roses they gave for their Cognizances, which by being so often cut down, came at last to be over-topt by the Thistle of Scot­land.

The Dukes of Somerset and Suffolk being the two principal Councel­lors that govern'd the Queen, who govern'd the King, and managed the whole Prosecution of the Duke of Gloucester. The People after the Death of the Cardinal, who did not long Survive the Execution of that good Duke, for so they commonly call'd him, fixt their Mark of Evil Coun­cellors, and prest so hard for their amoval from the King, that the Queen was forc'd, as commonly it falls out in such Cases, to let go her hold, and leave them to shift for themselves. The last was the first fell into their Hands, who attempting to fly their Fury, being Impeached in Parliament, was taken at Sea and Executed according to the Popular way of Justice, without Ceremony or Sentence, by chopping off his Head on the side of a Boat. The Duke of Somerset being more above their reach, one Morti­mer (whom for that end the Duke of York allow'd the honour to be repu­ted of his kindred) better known by the name of Jack Cade alias Captain Mend-all, undertakes to bring him to a Bay, and backt with a multitude in­raged with the sence of their just Complaints, arriv'd to that power as to possess himself of London, where he took off the head of the Kings Cham­berlain, [Page 269] and grew so terrible that the King himself was constra [...]ned to re­tire and give place: but before he could reach the Duke of Somerset, he fell himself. Whereupon the Duke of York was forced to take off his Vizard, and own the Justice of his Complaint barefac'd, who having an Army rea­dy to second them, prevail'd so far with the Parliament as to get the Duke twice arrested, but finding him to be still releas'd as soon as they were up, who therefore were dissolv'd to the end that he might be discharg'd; he advanced towards London to do himself, as he said, and the Kingdome Right: But before he could pass St. Albans the King met him and gave him Battel, wherein the unfortunate Duke of Somerset gave the last Testimony of his Loyalty to the King, in the loss of his Life, and the unhappy King the last Test of his Affection to him, by the loss of his Liberty, being for­ced to render himself a Prisoner to the Victor, who was so modest as not to declare his Title to the Crown, but contented himself to be by the good favour of the next Parliament, declared Protector only; and so moderate as to permit his two great Supporters, the Earl of Salisbury then Lord Chancellor, and the Earl of Warwick, Captain of Callice, to share with him for a while in the power, who making up a kind of Triumvirate for the time being, placed and displaced whom they pleased. Upon which, the King foreseeing the evil Consequences, was moved with a condescen­tion beneath his Majesty, to offer an Accommodation, which not taking effect, both sides prepared to begin the War afresh, which ended not with themselves.

The principal Persons for Quality, Power, and Interest that stuck to the King, were the young Duke of Somerset, the Dukes of Exeter and Buckingham, the Earls of Oxford, Northumberland, Shrewsbury, Pembroke, Ormond and Wiltshire, the Lords Clifford, Gray, Egremount, Dacres, Beau­mont, Scales, Awdley, Wells, &c. who having muster'd all the Forces they could make, incamped near Northampton: Thither came the Earl of March, Son and Heir to the Duke of York (his Father being then in Ire­land) to give them Battel, assisted by the Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of Warwick, Salisbury, Huntington, Devon, Essex, Kent, Lincoln, &c. all men of great Name and Power, with whom were the Lords Faulconbridge, Scroop, Stamford, Stanley, &c. and so fierce was the Encounter betwixt them, that in less then two hours above ten thousand men lost their Lives: amongst whom the principal on the Kings side were the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Shrewsbury, the Lords Egremount and Beaumont; the unfortunate King being made Prisoner the second time, who by the Earl of Warwick was conveighed to the Tower. Upon which the Queen, taking with her the Prince and the young Duke of Somerset, fled: The rumour of which Victory brought the Duke of York over, who laying aside all disguises, in the next Parliament (call'd for that purpose) p [...]aced himself on the Throne, and with great Assurance laid open his claim to the Crown, as Son and Heir to the Lady Anne, Daughter and Heir to Roger Mortimer, Earl of March, Son and Heir of Philippa, sole Daughter and Heir of Lyonel Duke of Clarence, third Son of Edward the Third, and elder Brother to John of Gaunt, Fa­ther of Henry the Fourth, who was Grandfather to him that (as he said) now untruly stiled himself King by the Name of Henry the Sixth: This, though it was no feign'd Title, but known to all the Lords, yet such was their pru­dence, that they left the King de facto to enjoy his Royalty during his Life, and declar'd t'other only Heir apparent, with this Caution for the Peace of the Kingdom, That if King Henry 's Friends should attempt the disanulling of that, that then the Duke should have the present Possession. But this nothing [Page 270] daunted the Queen, who having raised eighteen thousand men in Scotland, re­solv'd to urge Fortune once more, and accordingly they met the Yorkists at Wakefield, where to mock her with a present Victory, Fortune gave her the Duke of York's Life, who vainly had stil'd himself Protector of the King­dom, being not able it seems to protect himself; but pity it was he could not save his innocent Son, the Earl of Rutland, a hopeful Youth of not above Twelve years old, who being brought into the Army only to see fashions, was inhumanly murther'd by the Lord Clifford, kneeling upon his knees, and begging for his life; that angry Lord making him a Sacrifice (as he said) to appease the injured Ghost of his Father, murther'd by t'others Father, which Cruelty was fully and suddenly repaid by the Earl of March, who in the Battel at Mortimer's Cross slew three thousand eight hundred of the Lanca­strian Forces, and having put the Earl of Ormond to slight, cut off the head of Owen Tuthor, who had married King Henry's Mother; which it seems did not so weaken or dishearten them, but that they recover'd themselves, and took their full revenge at the Battel of Barnet-heath, where the Queen was again Victorious. But such was the activity of the Earl of March, that before she could recover London, he came up to her, and passing by, entred the City in Triumph before her, whereby he had so far the Start in point of Opinion, that he was forthwith elected King by the Name of Edward the Fourth, leaving King Henry so much more miserable, in that he lost not his Life with his Majesty. But herein consisted his happiness, That he was the only Prince perhaps of the World that never distinguish'd betwixt Ad­versity and Prosperity, being so intent upon his Devotion, as to think no­thing Adversity that did not interrupt that: Nature having rather fitted him for a Priest then a King, and perhaps rather for a Sacrifice then a Priest, that he might not otherwise dye, then as a Martyr, that had lived all his time so like a Confessor.

EDW. IV. date of accession 1460

THE rare unhappiness of the last King (surviving his Royalty so long as he did) made the happiness of this no less rare and singular: for as he by only deposing King Henry, was instrumental after to the depo­sing himself too, so by shewing the World such an Example of the insta­bility of humane Greatness, he had this advantage to leave some matter of hope to his Friends, after he was forc'd to retire, upon which to expect his Restauration, who reserv'd their Faith, though they were forc'd to withdraw their Allegiance, and return'd to him almost as soon as he return'd to them. Neither had it an ill effect upon his very Enemies, to whose affection it may be reasonable to impute that in the last place, which in the first place was to be ascribed to their Fear: For as the terror of that great slaughter by which he made his way to the Crown, with the loss of no less then thir­ty eight thousand Lives at the Battel of Towton, had prompted them to a dread that his Will might be as boundless as his Power: So the happy dis­appointment of that Jealousie (after they saw his inclinations to quit all partialities, coming constantly in Person to his Councel Board to see Ju­stice done, and not seldome to his Courts at Westminster to prevent the do­ing Injustice) drew them not only to a Submission to his Laws, but indeed to so affectionate a subjection to him, that it rests a Question, Whether the Men at last were more in Love with his Government, or the Women at first with his Person; having such a Majesty in both, that he seem'd to become the Crown as well as it became him. To say truth, Nature did as much for him as Fortune, in refining the temperament of his Mind, no less then that of his Body, taking away all the dregs and corrupted part, to place with his Brother Richard Duke of Gloucester. So that never were two Brothers so un­like: t'other having such a disproportionate mixture of Spleen with his Valor, as made his Courage degenerate into Cruelty, such a compound of Falshood with his Wisdom, as made him no less apt to flatter then deceive; whereas King Edward was no less haughty, but more Majestick, every whit [Page 272] as magnificent, but less proud; of a Complexion more Sanguine, but not so Bloody: In sine, as he was one of the handsomest men in the World, so he affected above all things handsome Women. And it stood him in good stead; for as the City of London had the greatest stroke in disposing of the Scepter all the time of that unhappy War, so had he the greatest stroke in govern­ing those that govern'd it, keeping the Citizens true to him, by making their Wives false to them: which Providence afterwards punished severely, when he came to take a Wife for himself; directing his Fancy to the choice of a Lady, who, however she was rich in Vertues (as having Goodness enough to be a Wife for any Prince) was yet so unfit for him in many respects, and indeed so inferiour to her in all that was at the same time offer'd to him for a Wife, to wit, the Lady Bona, Daughter of the King of France; the one be­ing a Princess, t'other a private Subject; the one a Virgin, t'other a Wid­dow; the one in possibility of intitling him to a Kingdom he had not, t'other like to hazard the Title to that he had; that it gave occasion to the World to pass some hard Censures upon his Understanding, and to deem his Cod­piss more prevalent then his Head-piece: having thereby so crossed all pub­lick Reasons of State and Interest, not to say some private ones too, given him by his own Mother (to which he answered rather wittily then wisely) That it was no marvel his great Friend the Earl of Warwick, who was made the Stale to negotiate the French match, should not only fall so off from him, but draw off also (as after he did) his two Brothers the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, and the Marquiss of Montague, and with them his own Brother the Duke of Clarence, with whom afterward he so prevailed, as to make him instrumental by another Marriage, to requite the affront put upon him by this, marrying him up to one of his Daughters, whereby they became so strictly united, that without consideration of being against his own Family, the Duke afterward joyn'd with him to set upon the King his Brother; the Matter being so subtilly managed, that they took him prisoner before he was aware of them; and had they been as careful to keep him, as they were skilful to get him into their hands, he had doubtless paid dear for his Li­berty. But Fortune blinded with the Love of him, as he with the Bright­ness of Love, assisted him so far, as to help him up upon his Wing, after which he mounted to that height, that the Earl of Warwick fearing the same, took water presently, and so scap'd into France; where he continued not long, before Fortune guilded his Adversity with one of the most glorious Proposals that could be made to him; to wit, a Marriage of his Second Daughter to Prince Edward, Son and Heir to Henry the Sixth, which by the prudence of the Queen Mother took effect; upon the concluding whereof he fixt the Red-rose (the Badg of the House of Lancaster) upon his white Saltyre, as resolving to be their homager for ever after. Six Months he continued there, in all which time he was treated as a King, because they knew 'twas in his power to make Kings, and returning home, he was received with that Applause of the People, that King Edward with his Brother the Duke of Gloucester, and his Chamberlain the Lord Hastings (who continu'd true to him, notwithstanding his Wife was Warwicks own Sister) not thinking it safe to abide the tryal of his Forces, quit London; and taking Shipping, with much adoe recovered Burgundy. No sooner came he to London, but he set King Henry at Liberty, proclaim'd Edward an U­surper, and to confirm his Brother Clarence, which unnaturally took part a­gainst his own House, they setled the Dutchy of York by Act of Parliament on him, and his Heirs for ever, notwithstanding the primogeniture of Edward, with an Entail of the Crown, in case that the Heirs Male fail'd of the Body [Page 273] of King Henry. Here again the Lancastrians took their turn to Reign for near five Months, under the protection of this Duke and Earl. At the begin­ning of the Spring following, King Edward appear'd like the Sun (that he gave for his Badge) which at that time of the Year, we know, is of no great height, but mounts apace: so he being so low both in his own hopes, and the opinion of the World, that he was fain to dissemble his design with an Oath, swearing he came not to disturb King Henry, but only to recover his Inheritance, which whether it were the Kingdom he meant, or his Dutchy only, he durst not explain; finding that the common People were willing to take all things in the best sense, got to that height of Reputation insensi­bly, that it was not long ere he was put into a Condition to speak plainer at last; and having made his way to London, was there received with that universal submission, as if all the time of his absence had been but spent in a Progress only. King Henry, without further consideration of his Re­adeption, being deliver'd up into his hands, to be made the mockery of Majesty, whom wisely he detein'd in Prison without any shew of Cruel­ty or Revenge, till he had subdued Warwick and the Queen, both then out of his reach, preparing to reinforce the Lancastrian Interest: but no sooner had he cut off the first, and got the last into his possession, with the hope­ful Prince her Son, but he took timely care to secure himself for the future, by taking away the Lives both of the unfortunate Father and Son; of both which Innocent Princes his bloody Brother Gloucester became the cruel Ex­ecutioner, by the same hand and the same Dagger, being so just in his Re­venge upon all the Enemies of the White-rose, that he spared not his own Brother Clarence, when he got him into his Power, but took him off by a death as singular as was his crime, causing him to be drown'd in a Butt of Malmesey.

The sudden end of these his Competitors gave K. Edward as sudden an end to all his Troubles, though not to his Wars. For having setled peace at home, he was provok'd to take Revenge upon his Enemies abroad, falling first upon the King of France, after upon the King of Scots; but they think­ing themselves as unable to grapple with him, as two Foxes with the Lion, bought their Peace, and avoided the ill Consequences of his Fury: till Death (the common Foe of Mankind) made him turn another way, forcing him to end the Race of his Fortune as he began it, like the Great Augustus Caesar, who at the same Age succeeded his slaughter'd Predecessor, and by a like Fate was disappointed of his intended Successor.

EDW. V. date of accession 1483

IT was a rare felicity, and not to have been hoped for by any (if by himself) that the last King, who was raised by Rebellion, and main­tain'd his Grandeur by Tumults, and had been the Cause of so many pri­vate and publick Butcheries, should set at last in peace, and after the ef­fusion of so much Christian Blood as was shed in defence of his Title, should himself dye a dry death. But dissatisfied Heaven reserv'd it seems its Vengeance to fall with double Horrour upon the heads of his two Inno­cent Sons, this present King and the Prince his Brother, two proper Lambs for such a Sacrifice: and that which made it appear to be a Judgment, was, that as they were not to be offer'd up by the hand of an Enemy, but by one of their own House, so neither was it to be by way of Expiation for any of the Offences past, but rather for the aggravation of those to come; that by so signal and extraordinary a punishment of Ambition by Ambition, the World might see as well as feel, the vanity and impiety of that Civil Discord which had distracted so many Minds, confounded so many Estates, and by the various mischiefs that attended it, so sullied the Chronicles of this Nation, that none can read the History of those times with delight, few without horror, whiles Fortune, like an inconstant Mistriss, is repor­ted to have dispos'd her favours with that indifferency to either House, that standers by (if any there were) could not reasonably Judge which had the better on't (the Globe of Majesty being toss'd and tumbled up and down like a Foot-ball, from one side to the other, without any kind of fixation, till it came to be lodg'd at last in a Bush) much less determine which side to take: whilst they saw the red Rose of Lancaster blushing with a deeper Crimson then ordinary, as if it were double died with the Blood they had shed; and the white Rose of York grown so pale and wann, partly by the Blood they had lost, but chiefly by their desire of Revenge, the prickles of either Rose being so sharp and piercing, that as oft as they mixt, they gave one another wound for wound: but now on the sudden [Page 275] wheeling about, she declar'd for those of this Family, by the almost total destruction of those of the House of Lancaster; to whom, having left no Heir Male alive of the whole blood (after the death of King Henry and his Son) to dispute the Right of this present King, he seem d doub y r [...]vited by Descent and Conquest, and made his Entry so much the more desirable, in that it brought such great probability of an universal Peace, no man suspecting the least occasion of inquietude but his own Father, who foresee­ing the evil, that was to others invisible, and doubting perhaps his securi­ty more then his title, he thought it convenient to place him at such a di­stance from all danger, as being seemingly out of the World, he might at once hide his defects, and take off all occasions of Defections. And accord­ingly he left in Wales, with such a Guard of his Mothers Friends about him, as being nearest in Blood, but remotest in Title, might probably in­deavour to keep off all others from ascending the Throne themselves had no pretence to.

This was as much as Humane Policy could do, but in vain doth he strive to preserve what Heaven had decreed to overthrow. Having by his Will de­clar'd his ambitious Brother Gloucester Protector of both the Children, he was resolv'd to let this act the part of King and no King no longer, then till his Tyranny could support it self by its own Authority: who having to do with the Mother, a weak Woman (for to her from whom they recei­ved their Lives, was these helpless Princes to owe their Deaths) he had that respect to her Frailty, as to keep time with her slow pac'd fears, in deferring his intended Paracide, till she that was their Nurse thought it fit time to bring them to bed.

Unhappy Youths to whom the Tenderness of their Mother must prove no less fatal, than the Cruelty of their Uncle! Had she, in the first place, Insisted upon the keeping them herself (as what fitter Guardian then their own Mother) or had she not, in the last place, Rashly consented to the tak­ing off that Guard, which her Husband had so providently placed about them; or had, at least, suffer'd the King to have continued for a while lon­ger, at that distance he was, when his Father dyed, where by his Education and Acquaintance he might have as well secured the Peoples Faith, as he was secur'd by it; or had she kept the Second Son, which she had in her own hands, after she saw what was like to become of the eldest, that was in his; 'tis possible the one might have been a security for the other, since with­out taking both, the Treason had not been worth the hazard, much less the guilt of destroying t'other; and 'tis more than probable, she might have stop'd him upon the very last step to the Throne: But yet it is hard to call that the Mothers fault, which might be the Sons fate; design'd by Destiny, for ought we know, to a Death as private as his Birth (who was born whilst she was in a Cloyster, and his Father in Banishment.) Fain she would have recover'd her Error, when it was too late, craving Protection for her self, and the younger Children in a Sanctuary; but in vain seek they Refuge from The Treachery of others, who have been of the Plot to betray themselves▪ the Protector resolved to have them all into his hands, to effect which he makes the Effect become a Cause: for finding the young King more than u­sually melancholly with the Apprehensions he had of the danger of his pre­sent condition, he made that Melancholly an important reason, for his bro­ther to be brought to keep him company; and because, this could not be done, without the Queens consent, but by offering some Violation to the rights of Sanctuary; it being reasonably to be supposed, that she would never let the Child go without apparent force upon her; he singled out a [Page 276] Clergy-man to be the Picklock of Priviledge, a grave State-drudge, and by his degree no worse a man then an Arch bishop, who having only so much Divinity as to know that Obedience was better then Sacrifice, so far per­swaded, or rather terrified the disconsolate Queen into a Complyance, that she (consulting with her Fears only) gave up the innocent Infant to his Grace, who thereby had the honour to be the third great Instrument in that great Treason that followed.

The Monster having thus got his desired Prey within his own Denn, did not yet think fit to devour them immediately, but before he entred upon so solemn an act of horrour, as the plunging himself into that fathomless Gulf of Cruelty, he thought fit to wade in blood by degrees, that sounding the depth of the danger as well as of the guilt he was to enter into, he might at the same time harden and secure himself. First then he cut off all their Friends, beheading the Lord Rivers, Sir Anthony Woodvill, and the prin­cipal persons of the Queens Relations, upon pretence of treachery against his Person and Government, which being in some sense true (for doubtless they meant to oppose his intended Usurpation) he thought it a reasonable Justification for taking their Lives. In the next place he charged the Queen her self with Sorcery, making the poor Innocent Jane Shore to be her Hand-mate in the Inchantation; with whom the Lord Hastings having had a known Familiarity from the time of the death of King Edward, he most maliciously design'd him to be their Accuser, who scorning to assist him in such dark purposes, was himself made a Conspirator with them, being deservedly executed as a Traytor, because he refused to be one: his Execution following so close upon his Sentence, and the Proclamation of his Treason so close upon that, that at the reading of it in the Street, a stander by observing how fairly they had drawn the foul Charge against him, being ingrossed at large in Parchment, he cried out aloud, That it was written by Prophecy.

Thus having clear'd the Foundation, and sufficiently tamper'd his Mor­tar with blood, to make it more strong and binding, he laid the Ground-work of his Usurpation upon the Illegitimacy of the two young Princes; pretending that the King their Father was never lawfully married to the Queen their Mother, but was before God, Husband to the Lady Elizabeth Lucy. This, as it had something of Truth in point of Fact (for 'tis said he was betrothed to her) so being matter of Divinity in point of Right, it was agreed that a Chaplain to the Duke of Buckingham (who was his great Confident, and bound to him by the stipulation of a Match betwixt their Children, and a promise of equal partition of the Treasure of the King­dom) should open the Case at large in a Sermon at Paul's Cross; who ta­king his Text from that place, where 'tis said, that Bastard Plants shall not Inherit, so over-acted his part, that he not only made King Edward's Chil­dren, but he himself a Bastard too, and all the Children of his Father the Duke of York, the Protector only excepted, who he said was the express Image of his Father, and pre-ordained by God to the great Charge of the Kingly Office. But all this was delivered with so apparent flattery and dis­simulation, that not believing himself, 'tis no wonder the People gave so little credit to him, who instead of crying out thereupon (as 'twas ex­pected they should) God save King Richard, cryed out, the Devil take the shameless Preacher.

This scorn put upon the Priest, or rather upon him, did not yet so de­ter him, but that two dayes after he sent the Duke himself into the City, to see whether his Authority might move any thing more then the Doctors [Page 277] Eloquence, who confidently affirm'd to the Citizens at Guild-hall, That all the Nobility judging the Issue of King Edward spurious, had chosen him to succeed, and only expected a Declaration of their Consents: But as it was not likely, that they who but two dayes before, could not be moved when they were told, the Lord from Heaven had made choice of him, should now concur in the Election with any Lords on Earth, so nei­ther could the Rhetorick of his Greatness prevail for any other confirmati­on then what was couched sub alto silentio. This gave little satisfaction to his Lordship, for that he knew it would give none to his Master; and therefore rather then depart without something like a Vote, he secretly ordered some few of his own Servants at the lower end of the Hall to cast up their Caps, and cry, King Richard, King Richard: which impu­dence of theirs, though it apparently abasht the greatest part of the Com­pany there, yet his graceless Grace taking it up at the first bound for an unanimous consent, said it was a goodly Cry, and such as shew'd their u­niversal approbation; requiring thereupon the Mayor and his Fraternity to meet him the next day at the Protectors Court in Baynard's Castle, in order to Petition him to accept their freely offer'd Subjection.

And here I cannot but think it worth the notice (although we that have lived in these latter times have seen perhaps more exquisite Scenes of Hy­pocrisie) to observe the instability and levity of the common Peoples Faith, who (like the Sea to which they are compared) have their fluxes and refluxes of Loyalty. It was not two dayes since they shew'd as great Affections to the Son, as ever their Wives had to the Father, in attempt­ing to beat down the Pulpit about that Stone-Priests ears, that assaid to beat down his Title; answering his potent Patron, the Duke of Bucking­ham, with a Sullenness that shew'd no less contempt of his Dignity, then of the others Divinity. Yet after all this honest obstinacy, the very next day after they Apostatized into that Compliance, as to suffer themselves to be made meer Properties in that most ridiculous Pageantry of State, when the aforesaid Duke made it a thing of such great difficulty to get the Protector to shew himself to them out of a high Gallery, for nearer he was not to come, not knowing (as it was to be suppos'd) what the intent of their Address was, until his Grace saluted his Highness with the tender of their Allegiance; and in a long Oration (by which speaking for them, he rather spoke to them) declared that they were abundantly satisfied, not only in the Justice, but Necessity of his taking the Royal Authority upon him. At which the Usurper started, being struck dumb with passion for a while, but after he had conquer'd his Anger and Amazement, he, good Man, re­turn'd to his wonted Clemency, and gently reproached the Duke his Co­sin of Unkindness, telling him he little thought that he of all men would have moved him to the thing, that he knew of all things in the World he most declin'd, protesting it was far from him to do such wrong to his de­ceased Brother, and his sweet Children, and to his own upright Consci­ence: this he spoke trembling, as doubting the Multitude might close with him, and cry Amen. But scarce were the words out of his Mouth, before the Duke, seemingly out of his Senses, transported with a just in­dignation to see their profer'd Love scorn'd, reply'd like a truly Loyal Traytor; Sir, I must further add, that since it is so well known that your Brothers Children are Bastards, they shall never be admitted to the Crown of England; and therefore if your Highness shall neither regard your self nor us, so much, as to accept the Trust, We are directly determin'd to confer it upon some one of the House of Lancaster, that will have respect to [Page 278] the general Good. This made the Crocodile weep; and now acknow­ledging he was not born for himself, he so far deny'd himself, as to accept the honour thrust upon him by the giddy Multitude, who ecchoing to the Duke their Speaker, cry'd out all (as if it had been with one voice) God save King Richard, God save King Richard. This made him descend (the only way to ascend) and like that Raven at Rome, which flying over the Market-place when a great shout was given, fell down amongst the People, he condescended, and very formally to salute all the Rout; be­coming on the sudden so gracious, so debonair, so obliging a Prince, that they forgot all their former Exceptions; their discontent vanishing in an instant, like a Fogg upon the Suns Rising, dispell'd by the rayes of the present Grace he did them.

And now being King, who would not but have him so: It was high time (as the Vulgar Proverb hath it) to put the Children to bed, and lay the Goose to the fire: For after having seen them thus undrest and strip'd naked, there remains no more but to draw the Curtains, and leave them to their rest, like Lambs in the Lions Den, who could not sleep at all, till he was ascer­tain'd they had slept their last. For which black purpose he call'd a bloody Villain out of his Bed to smother them in theirs, who perform'd that hor­rid deed of Darkness with so much secresie, that the truth of his falshood could not be detected, till within these very few weeks, when some occa­sionally digging in the Tower, at the place where it seems that poor Priest buried them, who afterwards dyed for his Piety, they found the Coffin, and in it the Bones of both the Princes, as well his whom Perkin Werbeck personated, as the King his Brother; which (I take it) are yet to be seen, or were very lately, in the Custody of Sir Thomas Chicheley the Master of the Ordnance, to whom his Majesty has intrusted the making a fitting Monu­ment for them in the Abbey of Westminster.

RICH. III. date of accession 1483

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

LOVALTO MELIE

THE Imaginary Reign of the last King (if so be we may call him properly a King, who was in so much subjection all his life) lasted not many Weeks, before this Usurper his Uncle, as I shew'd before, not content to have the Government, without he had the Rule of the Kingdom, quit his abhorr'd Stile of PROTECTOR, to take upon him, contrary to his dissembled Motto of Lovalto Melie, the better known Title of KING, to which (finding it guarded by the Law) he made his way as a wild Boar (which) therefore he gave not improperly for his Cognizance) breaks through a Fence, bearing down all regard of Allegiance, Affinity, Friend­ship, Honour, Humanity, or any respect Moral, Civil, or Divine, excited by Cruelty (as other men by Ambition) to seize on the Crown, to the in­tent he might have the Power as well as the Pleasure to kill whom he pleas'd: The Butcheries he was guilty of before he could fix himself in the Throne (not to mention those afterward) being so many, that we may conclude, as other Kings were anointed with Oyl, he was besmear'd with Blood. His Soveraign and the Prince his Son, his Brother, and his Brothers Children, his Friend, his Servant, nay the very best of his Friends and Servants, her that was part of himself, fell all by his own hand, or at least by his own contrivance, and all sacrificed to the short-liv'd Glory of being a King, which prov'd as transitory almost as his from whom he took it: For the one reigned two moneths and two weeks, and the other not longer then two years and two moneths: too short a time to make even that great Accompt he was to give of his Usurpation. Neither could there better be hoped from him, who having a continued Feaver in his Conscience, was ever so blood-thirsty, that every little provocation quicken'd his Cruelty; in so much that we find one Collingborn, a harmless Country Gentleman, hang'd, drawn and quarter'd, for only reproaching the ill Na­tures of his ill Ministers, with a silly Quibble upon their bestial Names, in that pitiful Rhyme, [Page 280]

Neither suffer'd he more then Sir Thomas Saintleger did, for breaking a Jest only, whose Wit forfeited his Head, notwithstanding he had mar­ried his own Sister: which made him appear so sordid as well as so sa­vage to all Forreign Princes, that they refused to have any Commerce with him. Lewis the French King (to whom he sent to conclude a League) so abhorr'd his Amity, that he would by no means see or hear his Am­bassadors, but sent them away with disgrace. The King of Scots who had so lately submitted to his Brother, defy'd him and all his power, as a Beast. What scorn the Duke of Britain put upon him, needs no o­ther proof then the hanging his chief Minister for holding Intelligence with him. Neither doth it appear that he was in much better esteem at home then abroad. However, he has the repute of having been an excel­lent Law-maker: For 'tis said, never any King made better Ordinances then he. Amongst the rest, those that favour his Memory, cry up that popular Law, whereby it was Enacted, That the Commonalty of the Realm should in no wise be charged with any Imposition, call'd the Benevolence: but as that seem'd to be an Act fitted to the time he liv'd in, as well as to the persons he lived with; so 'tis more then probable it had never pass'd, had not he known himself to be so generally hated, that he despar'd of e­ver having any Freewill Offerings. 'Tis possible he, as most Usurpers, might indeavour to fortifie himself with good Constitutions, being as much afraid of the People, as they were of him; but 'tis not likely so wicked a man could make so good a King: and whether it were that the people found he made those good Laws of his, more for his own sake, then theirs; or whether it were that he took no further care, then only to have them made, not observed; or what other cause it were I know not: but certain it is, the Subjects held not themselves so obliged by any of his good Acts, as to make him any Return of Gratitude or Affection, but taking example from himself to be disloyal, many of them revolted to the Earl of Richmond; others pretending to stay with him, did not yet assist him; and such as durst not defie him by an open Hostility, did him more mischief by their concealed piety, praying against him as hear­tily as the rest fought against him; in so much that his Competitor Prince Henry, when he came to close dispute with him, found little or no difficulty to conquer him, notwithstanding his Army wanted not Conduct, nor himself Courage. But that which contributed most to his ruin, was the Self-condemnation which appear'd within his own Con­science, which as he could not smother or conceal, so the terrour of it being so manifest, as well by the causless Jealousies he conceiv'd of those of nearest Trust about him, making the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Stanley his two greatest Friends his Enemies, by only suspecting them to be so, as by the poor shifts he made to support his tottering Title, first marrying the Widdow of Prince Edward, the Son of Henry the Sixth (both whom he had murther'd) to gain the Earl of Warwick on his side, and after making her away in hopes to marry his Neece Eli­zabeth, eldest Daughter to his Brother King Edward, and strengthen himself with her Title (notwithstanding he had but a little before caus'd her and all her Fathers Children to be declar'd Illegitimate) stooping to dishonourable Truces to keep his crazy Frame unshaken as long as he [Page 281] could; sending most base and dishonorable Conditions to the Duke of Britain, in hope the young Earl his Competitor (then under his prote­ction) might be betray'd by him; I say, these vile and low shusslings, as they shew'd him rather politick then wise, so they gave his own Party such an Umbrage, and so shockt their Confidence, that as if they had foreseen his downfall by instinct, ere there were any visible Symptoms of decay in his power, every man seem'd Crest-fall'n in his Court, a long time before they had any Allarm from abroad: but after they heard of the arrival of the Earl of Richmond, he himself saw the presages of his Desti­ny in their Countenances, and found that they followed him as a Ty­rant rather then a King, drawn by a principle of Fear, not Affection, which so stung him within, that instead of being courageous, he grew desperate; and to shew he trusted no body but himself, after the Armies came to joyn Battel, he acted things even beyond himself, adventuring his person without any reasonable provocation given him, against whole Troops, to make himself Master (if possible) of his Competitors life, but in the Attempt he lost his own; gaining only this point of Glory by it, That he dyed more honourably then he lived, and by his early Death, secur'd those that remain'd alive, who having not stain'd their Swords with innocent blood, did confidently, because timely, submit to the mercy of the gentle Conqueror.

HEN. VII. date of accession 1485

NO sooner had Fortune, by the late fatal Victory, declared for the Antiquated Stock of the Tuthors, against the illustrious Name and Progeny of Plantaginet, that had continued near four hundred years, but to shew her partiality to the parts of this Prince, she offer'd the Crown to him before he was ready to offer any Title to it. For being by his Fa­thers side a Stranger to both the Royal Houses of York and Lancaster, and by his She was a Daughter of France. Mothers side descended out of that Line, which by the same Law it was made capable of Inheriting any Estate, was made incapable of the Succession to the Crown: 'twas not enough to be declared by himself King de Facto, without the Law declared him so de Jure. To the intent therefore to dazle the Eyes of those who look'd too intensly upon his Ti­tle, he made his first Appearance to the People with a trine aspect of De­scent, Consent, and Conquest, setting forth a Proclamation, by which he declared himself King, Jure Divino, Humano, & Militari. The first (which was prov'd by the Union of the two Nations, the Britains and Normans) was said to have been written in the Stars, and reveal'd from Heaven (if we may credit Tradition) near eight hundred years before, to his great Ancestor Cadwallader, the last of the British Kings, who ha­ving lost almost all that little was left him, is reported to have rejoyced in this Assurance, That one of his Posterity should recover back the Impe­rial Diadem of the Isle. Which Prophesie King Henry the Sixth (who had the repute of being an illuminated man too) apply'd to this King, being then but a Child, fifty years at least before 'twas accomplish'd, say­ing to some Lords that were present when the Youth was playing by him, This is he that shall quietly enjoy what we now contest for: which saying of his, as it was not much unlike that Prediction of Augustus, ‘— hic Vir, hic est tibi quem promitti Saepius audis,’ [Page 283] himself having then a hopeful Heir alive, and those of the other House se­veral; so that being justified by no less then two so notable Predictions of two Kings, 'twas not to be doubted, but that he was Rex, Jure Divino. The second was confirm'd by the Union of the two Houses: himself, that was Heir of the House of Lancaster, marrying the eldest Daughter of Edward the Fourth, the undoubted Heir of those of York; whereby he brought all Hearts to bow to his Title, as before all knees to his Fortune; the People generally believing, that the Roses which sprang from this happy Conjunction, would never more have any Prickles; so that there remain'd no further Scruple De Jure Humano. And now having stifled all secret Murmurings, as well as all open Contradictions, having conquer'd all Difficulties and Perplexities of State, charm'd all opposite Inclinations, and made his way with his Sword, over the Head of one of equal Stars and Parts with himself, having conquer'd Force with Force, and back'd Right with Might, having taken possession of the Crown of Thornes, or rather of the Crown amongst the Thorns, receiving it as a Trophy in conspectu Militum, who durst deny him to be King de Jure Belli: especi­ally since there was nothing wanting to make up the glory of his Triumph, but what himself deny'd himself; who rather affecting Power then Pomp, despised those outward Formalities of State, which draw most Reve­rence from the gaping Multitude, applying himself only to the sixation of that real part of Majesty, which consisted in making good his Safety, his Honour, and his Wealth, which were to give him his Reputation with those of the Wiser sort. In order whereunto he pass'd two notable Acts (and they were the very first he pass'd) either respecting the pub­lick no less then his private good; to wit, The Act of Repeal of the At­tainder against his Party and himself; whereby the Adversary had cast so much blood and dirt upon them, as left an eternal blemish upon Record to fully their Memory, as well a invalidate their Interest: For however the Lawyers had assured him, that the possession of the Crown took of all Defects, yet in respect they were not able to give him like assurance of the continuing that possession, his Jealousie of the worst prompted him to provide for the best, by obliterating the reproach as well as taking off the force of the Statute. The second was the Law in favour of Pos­session, whereby it was ordain'd, That no person assisting the King for the time being, by Arms or otherwise, should ever after be impeached for it, or attainted, either by Course of Law, or by Act of Parliament; and that if any such Act of Attainder did happen to be made, it should be void in it self, and of no effect: which Law, though it were like a two edg'd Weapon, that (if not wisely managed) might as well wound him in whose hand it was, as those against whom it was directed; yet it serving his turn for that present, and securing the Subject no less then the Prince, ever since it had the repute of a wise Ordinance, and so has continued ever since. Ano­ther Act there was, if so be we may call it his, or rather the Act of Pope Alexander the Sixth, obtain'd by his procurement; to wit, A Prohibiti­on of the benefit of Sanctuary to all such as fled thither for any offence of Trea­son, as Enemies to the Christian Faith, as well as to the Crown; with a Pro­hibition likewise of all Priviledge to any that came a second time to ask the be­nefit of Sanctuary for any Offence whatsoever. This made him so much more a King then any of his Predecessors, by how much he had render'd it im­possible almost for any of his Subjects to start out of their Allegiance, well knowing, Quod aliud est Regem esse, aliud Regnare.

Yet after all this great care of his to secure his Greatness, he run a risk of losing it the very same way he got it; his antipathy to the House of York being such (for though he were but of the half blood of Lanca­ster, he retain'd their whole hatred) even after the consummation of his Nuptials, that the other Faction perceiving his Marriage to be an act of Necessity rather then Choice, wherein his Nature strove with his Interest, and his Ambition with his Affection, which should justle the other out; they took that umbrage at his coldness, that doubting their own, they invaded his Security, countering his Greatness with something that so a­mazed the Common People, that not being well able to judge whom they ought to oppose (like those at Barnet-Field that fatally mistook the Earl of Oxford's Stars for King Edward the Fourth his Suns) they knew not whom to obey, blinding their Eyes by continual false Lights. Amongst which there were no Apparitions terrified them more then those Aiery Typhons, Lambert, Perkin, and Wilford; the two first of which adventur'd on such Personations, as wanted only Belief, to have charm'd all his For­ces without further Inchantation, and would doubtless have unravel'd his felicity, had not the parts which were found in his Vertue, as well as those in his Fortune, been such, as were no less matchless then their Villany: But there are some, who conclude from their being so silently vanquish'd as they were, that all (except only those two walking Ghosts of Edward Plantaginet Earl of Warwick, and Richard Duke of York) were Spirits of his own raising, and nourish'd by himself, because he would have the more reason not to reign in the Right of his Wife, the Glory of whose House he purposed to extinguish as they do Torches, which being held downward, are put out by the superfluity of their own matter. But this, as all other his great Acts of State, is rather guest at then understood, as it was his de­sire it should; giving therefore (and not improperly) the Percullis, the Emblem of Fastness for his Device, to forbid all approaches to his Se­crets, no less then to his Power; it being natural to him to keep himself at such a distance, and his Heart (as that of Kings ought to be) so in­scrutable, that he might render himself thereby more awful to his Coun­sellors at home, and more revear'd of his Confederates abroad: to whom he appear'd like one with a dark Lanthorn, keeping them alwayes in the Light, towards him, whilst he himself was not perceiv'd by them. In which great point of Glory the great King of France would have been his Corri­val, but notwithstanding he was the wise Son of a wiser Father, and had had as many Tutors in the Art of Government (that is of Dissimulation) as any Prince whatever, yet he fell short of him, and was therefore forc'd to be still on the Desensive side, both he, and the King of Scots his Col­league, being like two great Irish Greyhounds worried by an English Ma­stiff, which fighting by snaps, run as soon as they could get loose of him. To say truth, he not only brought the War they raised upon him home to their own Doors, but brought them to attend at his, departing content with such Conditions as he would put upon them: and however they both seem'd to have had the better of him, the first by getting away his Mistress; the last by getting his Daughter; yet it appears that he gain'd the point from them, which was to him most important, and which in­deed he valued above all things else, a Peace with Money. That Match of the King of France with the Heir of Britain, may rather be said to be a wrong to Maximilian King of the Romans, which had been espoused to her before, then any assront to him afterward; notwithstanding he had that Sentiment of the baffle, that he would not be pacifi'd, till the King [Page 285] of France laid him down Seven thousand four hundred and fifty Ducats in present to defray the Charge he had been at in vindicating his Honour, and Two thousand five hundred Crowns yearly, as a price for his Amity, which being duly paid all his Reign, and all the time of his Son after him, this did so far exceed any computation of Charge that could be pretended, that considering his Title to France, was by particular Agreement re­served to him, at the same time, we may rather call it (as the English did then) a Tribute, then (as the French did) a Pension, since being alwayes demanded as a Tribute, it was never deny'd for the Names sake.

The King of Scots his Case, as it was different from that of the King of France, so he went a different way to compass his satisfaction f [...]om him, chusing to be the Giver rather then the Taker, to buy rather then sell Peace. And to say truth, he gave him such a Jewel for it, as (her Birth, Beauty, and Parts considered) 'twas not in the World besides, viz. the Princess Margaret his eldest Daughter: but herein he dealt like a wise Purchasor, who was resolv'd not to let go an Estate that lay so near and convenient to his own, for want of a little out-bidding the ordinary rate, foreseeing (as he told his Councel at the match-making) that the lesser Kingdom, if ever it came to be united to the greater, as in all probabi­lity it would (unless, which was a blessing scarce to be hoped for, that the Issue of his own Body should never fail) must insensibly be reduced without a Conquest (as since we have seen it hath been) if not under the same Laws, yet under the same Allegiance; which, he said, would be a tye sufficient to bind them to the observation of the same Interest, without the same advantage by it, and to bring them, who never could be subdued by Arms, though often overcome, to submit willingly to the good pleasure of Providence, when they should find themselves (like Ivy that grows up by some great Oak) rais'd up to a height they could never have attain­ed to by themselves, and partaking the benefit of our strength, with the comfort of our heat, without contributing any thing to our Nourish­ment.

The only Enemy indeed that ever match'd this great King, was one of the Feminine Gender, if so be we may not rather call her his Superiour then Equal, as having the Malice of a Woman joyn'd to the Spirit of a Man, and both elevated by the greatness of her Fortune, no less then of her Force. This was the Lady Margaret, second Wife to that famous Charles the Hardy, Duke of Burgundy, and second Sister to King Edward the Fourth, who was so surcharg'd with Envy to the House of Lancaster, that she even hated her own Neece, for consenting to marry him: but af­ter she found the same aversion in him to the House of York (who in all Pro­bability, if he could have had the Heir of Britain, had contemn'd all the grave Considerations of the Union) and that it was predominant not only over his Wars and Councels, but took place even in his Chamber and Bed; so that however he had made her his Wife, he still refused her to be his Queen, denying her the Rites of Majesty by Coronation, as o­ther Queens usually had, though she had bore him a Son to be a pledge of her Faith and Affection to him: I say, when she saw that Marriage, which makes all persons equal, had subjected her Neece to this inequa­lity, the indignation she conceiv'd at it, did so rankle within her Breast, that she never could have any rest within her thoughts, as long as he had any within his Dominions: and therefore she made it the whole labour of her thoughts to contrive all the wayes and means imaginable to dethrone him, becoming the avow'd Foster-mother of almost all the Rebellions du­ring [Page 286] his Reign; conjuring up so many Spirits as could not possibly have been allay'd by the Magick of any Prince less wise or cautious then himself; who not only countermin'd all her Plots, but happily beat her at her own Weapon, by placing so many Flies and Familiars about her, that by frequent varying of their shapes and disguises, rigled themselves into the knowledge of all her Secrets, and by turning picklocks to so many of her Plots, to the overthrow of all those that were ingaged in the Conspiracy with her, that at last the very Fame and suspicion of them prevented all her designs, no man daring to adventure himself, for fear of being blown up by he knew not whom, whiles he himself continued still and quiet (like those that catch Moles) till he saw the manner of their working, and then he took them without striking a stroke, over­coming so easily as well as so wisely, that Caesars VENI, VIDI, VICI, was not more terrible nor sudden in its execution then his. And herein he was more particularly like that great Emperour, in that he still oppos'd his own Person to all those dangers which were visible (especi­ally Domestick) which however some (taking from the Reputation of his Fortitude to add to that of his Wisdome) ascribe not to his natural forwardness, so much as to the distrust he had of his Lieutenants; yet by how much it rendred him victorious, we ought to understand it in the best sense, and believe him very bold, if not very valiant, in that he chose rather to see then to hear of danger. In fine, look what description an Athenian once gave of God, may be given of him that was his Lieutenant, That he was neither Bowman nor Horsman, Pikeman nor Footman, but one that knew well how to command all these, perhaps no man bet­ter.

Neither was he less fortunate then forward in Peace, as well as in War. So that as upon the one side he look'd like Caesar, or Augustus rather, both of whom as they were armed with Lightning, so their Pardons went ever be­fore and after their Swords: so on the other side he was not unlike those two famous Legislators, Solon and Licurgus, who principally regarding the Peo­ple, were yet so wise for themselves, as with the publick safety to secure their own Authority: for he was an excellent Judge of times and seasons, and knew when to strain up the Laws to his Prerogative, and when to let down his Prerogative to the Test of the Law. And though 'twas observ'd never any man lov'd his own way nor his own will better then he, nor perhaps ever had so much Reason to do it, being as another Solomon, wiser then his Counsellors (and yet they perhaps as well chose as ever any Kings Counsellors were) yet we find he was sometimes content to part with both, for the more orderly administration of Justice, leaving the disposi­tion of his Mint, his Wars, and his Martial Justice (things of absolute power) not to say the Concerns of his unsetled Title, which was yet of higher and tenderer consideration, to the wisdom of his Parliaments. And least the thing called Propriety (which is the same to the Subject, as the Prerogative to Majesty) should be thought to suffer in the least, he gave himself the trouble of hearing many Causes at his Councel-board, where sitting at the Fountain of Justice, assisted by the most learn'd, as well as the most reverend Professors of Law and Conscience, it was not to be suppos'd that any Cause could lose any thing of its due weight and al­lowance: yet it seems the Common Lawyers, unwilling the determination of Meum and Tuum should go besides their own Courts, traduc'd him with distrusting his Judges in matters of Common Right, as the Souldi­ers complain'd of his not trusting his Generals in point of common Secu­rity: [Page 287] And some there were who would have aggravated it to a Grievance; however 'twas apparent to be rather their own then the Peo­ples, who are apter to complain of the chargeableness, then the due Administration of the Laws. But these Causes being for the most part heard in the Vacation time, 'tis possible he had in his Thoughts some­thing beyond their reach, with respect to the splendor of his Court, and the profit of the City: to which as he was alwayes a Friend, so by this dispatch of Justice, while there was no other Courts sitting, he drew such a concourse of Clyents to Town, as kept up a kind of Term all the Year round, and so quickned Trade, that by adding to theirs, it increas'd his own Wealth to that degree, that amongst other Reasons given of his neglecting the benefit of the Discovery of the Indies (first offer'd to him by Columbus) 'twas not the least that he had no want of Money; and having made himself a Member of the City, that by the benefit of that Community he might find his ac­count as well in their Chamber as his own Exchequer, and prove (as after he did) the only Dragon that kept their Golden Fleece, sha­ring with Solomon himself in those two great points of Glory, to be reputed the wisest and richest King of his time: 'tis no wonder he should by Works Immortal (as he did) make his way to Immor­tality, leaving his Son Henry nothing to do but to inherit his envied Felicity.

HEN. VIII. date of accession 1509

THOSE that take a view of this Prince and his Father, will find no other difference betwixt them, then what is betwixt Youth and Age, the one affecting Contemplation, t'other Action: which may be the Cause perhaps why he prefer'd Martial Men to be of his Councel, rather then those of any other Profession; as loving them best, who ha­ving given him good advice, were in capacity to put it in Execution. The Father is celebrated for his Wisdom, the Son for his Wit; either a­like Magnisicent, though perhaps not alike Majestick: the difference con­sisting in this, That the Father alwayes appear'd as a King, the Son but sometimes: the one hating any thing that look'd like Ostentation, as knowing that Majesty makes the People bow, but Vain-glory bowes to them; the other affecting Pomp and Gaiety, as young Men and Souldiers do light Colours and Feathers; wherein he was the more to be excus'd, in that it became him, and he it. In the last place, the Father had little or no Appetite to Pleasure, unless it were to do as great Princes usually do, when they come to Banquets, look on a while, and so depart without scarce tasting: but the Son was so inclin'd to gratifie his Sence, as well as his Intellect, that he still sweetned the sowerness of Business with some reflection of delight, refreshing himself by Dances, Revels, Tiltings, &c. his Court being marshal'd like a Camp, and his Camp set out like his Court; so that Mars and Venus seem'd to be in Conjunction all his Reign, and Honour and Love still in fashion. Neither needed there any other Load-stone then that of his own Example to draw all the young Nobility after him, who were not less considerable at that time for their Number, then their Quality; so that France was affraid, Spain jealous, and all the other Ne [...]ghbour Princes envious at his growing Greatness.

Now as he began his Reign at the time when every thing begins to grow and blossom (it being in the Spring of the Year, as well as of his Age) so the Season complying with his Constitution, made it hard for him to re­sist [Page 289] the heat of his blood: yet we do not find that he ingaged in any War abroad, till he had secured Peace at home; making his Justice as renown'd amongst his People by revenging their wrongs, as he made his power af­terward, when he came to revenge his own, executing Empson and Dudley as a terrour to all Promoters, to shew he did not esteem them faithful Ser­vants to his Father, that had so betraid their Country. Which Act of Justice being clos'd with another of Universal Grace, in restraining his Prerogative, to inlarge the Subjects Confidence and Affection, made him so clear a Conquest over all Discontents, arising by the Oppression of his Predecessor; that having nothing more to do at home, he bethought him­self of what was to be done abroad: Providence offering him a Projection suitable to the greatness of his mind, to render the esteem of his Piety no less famous then that of his Justice, by undertaking to rescue the Pope out of the hands of the King of France, as a Dove deliver'd out of the Ta­lons of a Vulture, who having already drove him to Covert, as we say, (that is, besieged him in his City of Bononia) and having his Confederates, the Emperour and King of Spain, ready at hand to make a retreive, doubted not but to devour him in a very short time. This, as it was a Design of Super-errogating Merit, so it carried in it no less of Advantage then Glo­ry, giving him a fit occasion to shew at once his Zeal and Power, and in serving him to serve himself upon him, in the promotion of his Title to France; it being no small addition of Credit to his Claim, that his Ho [...]i­ness, as an Earnest of his Spiritual Benediction, had bestowed upon his Majesty the forfeited Stile of Christianissimus. However, before he would move himself in Person out of England, he thought it necessary to prevent any Motion of the King of Scots into England, who he knew would be rea­dy to bruise his Heel, as soon as he advanced to break the Serpents Head: and accordingly he got not only a confirmation of that Excommunication which Julius the Second had formerly granted against the said Scotch King, in case he broke his League with him (the Curse whereof followed him to his Grave for violating his Faith, he died in the attempt) but obtain'd a plenary Indulgence for all that should assist him. Thus arm'd as it were with the Sword of God and Gideon, he entred that goodly Kingdom, and long it was not ere he got the Maiden-head of that Virgin City Tournay, who having repuls'd Caesar, had the Testimony of her Pucillage written upon its Gates, as the only Town had kept her self unconquer'd from that time, but now was forced to yield to him, by the Name and Title of Roy tres Christien, as appears by the Original Contract yet exta [...]t. The same day he receiv'd the News of the James the Fourth slain in Flodden-field. Scotch Kings death, who attempting (as I said before) to divert the War, lost his Life, and 'twas happy he lost not his Kingdom too: a Victory so seasonable and super-successful, that Fortune, as enamor'd of him, seem'd to prostitute her self to him, and rais'd the Expectations of his future Successes to that height, that the Em­perour Maximilian, who had before submitted (though Lord of no less then eight Kingdoms) to serve him in the condition of a private Souldier for the wages of One hundred Crowns a day, now (as some report) pro­fer'd to surrender his Empire and Dutchy of Milan to him: and the King of France resolving to purchase his Friendship at any rate, condition'd to pay yearly to him, and his Successors Kings of England, for ever, Forty six thousand Crowns de Soleile, and twenty four Sols Turnois, with One thousand five hundred Crowns more as a Tribute, out of the Salt of Brovage, as may appear by the Agreement Anno 1527. the confirmation of which Treaty cost his Son Charles, after the death of his Father (who [Page 290] did not long survive the Composition) a Million of Crowns more. Now if his Enemies had such dread of him, what esteem must we imagine the Pope had, who owed his Deliverance to him. Silver and Gold he had none to tender, but such as he had, Glorious and Grateful Titles he was very prodigal of: For besides that of Liberator Urbis, & Orbis (the Stile of his Ancestor Constantine the Great, and therefore though only fit for Hen­ry the Great) it being occasional and temporary; the Conclave had un­der consideration such as might be perpetuated to all Ages. Some mov'd to have him call'd Defensor Romanae Ecclesiae: others propos'd Protector Se­dis Apostolicae: others again lik'd better to have him stil'd Rex Apostolicus, as some Rex Orthodoxus: but at last all agreed in that of Defensor Fidei. After this he was made Head of the Holy League, out of belief That there could no Authority Superior to his, be interpos'd either for the Conservation of good men in Peace, or repressing those that are ill by War (for so are the words of the Fourteenth Article of the League.) This shews that he was so much greater then any of the Kings were before him, by how much they only gave Laws at home, but he throughout all Christendom, disposing War and Peace as made most to the advantage of his own People, who were thereupon so well satisfied with the Conduct of his Government, that his Will seems to have been the Supream Law. For as he needed to have said no more to his Parliaments, then as one of the Roman Emperors (cited by Suetonius) was used to say to the Senate, Scitis quid velim & quibus Opus habeo: So they could say no more to him, nor indeed any Parliament to any King, then was declar'd by their giving up themselves and their Liberties wholly to him, in that Act of highest Trust and Confidence, that ever Sub­jects pass'd, when they consented that he should (in case he had no Issue of his own) dispose the Imperial Diadem of this Realm as his Highness pleas'd, by Will or Patent.

Thus great was this King whiles he continued to be himself, keeping the Rains of Government in his own hands: but after he suffer'd himself to be govern'd by others (who took advantage of his to serve their own Lusts) like one drawn from his Center, his motions were so irregular, and the in­treagues of State so perplext, that we cannot wonder at those Disorders which followed, to the great interruption of his Peoples peace and pro­sperity, but much more of his own, whilst that which private men esteem their greatest happiness, fell out to be his greatest curse, the enjoyment of a most vertuous, discreet, and loving Wise; who being a Lady of that quick-sight, that she look'd thorough all his great Ministers Ambitions, and occasionally detected their Designs, was undone by the same way she ho­ped to preserve her self and him. For the jealous Cardinal Wolsey, his great Minister, doubting that she might interpose her self betwixt the King and him, as the Moon betwixt the Sun and the Earth, and thereby deprive him of those warm influences of Grace from whence his power took life, he design'd to blast her as it were by Lightning from Heaven, or rather by a Spark from Hell, casting a Scruple into the Kings Conscience, which quick­ly set it on fire, upon the apprehension of being guilty of the incestuous Sin of knowing his Brothers Wife. This was so craftily managed, that it was not known for a while out of what Quiver the Arrow came: but a Treaty be­ing had about a Marriage of the King of France with the Lady Mary, the Kings Daughter by her, it was so order'd that the Bishop of Tarbe (the principal Commissioner on that side) should make some doubt of the Le­gitimacy of the Princess, thereby to bring on the Question of Incest. This though it was urged with somewhat more then usual vehemency, yet his Au­thority [Page 291] not being such as to move the King much at that time. The Cardi­nal secretly ingaged the Bishop of Lincoln his Majesties Confessor, to press him farther upon it, knowing well (as he acknowledged afterward) that whatever was once put into the Kings head, would hardly ever be got out again; nothing doubting withal, but that it was in his power at any time to conjure the Devil down again as soon as he had done his Service; and after be had tumbled the Queen down (or at least) brought her into a necessity of making use of his Friendship, wherein he had two great ends. First, to flat­ter his great Patron the French King, with the hopes (in case of a Divorce) of marrying his fair Sister the Dutchess of Alanson to the King, whose Al [...]y­ance was then of great Importance to that Crown. Secondly, to perform a very real Service to his distressed Chief the Pope, who be [...]ng now more persecuted by the Emperour, then before by the King of France, and at that p [...]esent in Duress, might possibly be releas'd by the very menace of such a Divorce as this; the Emperor, both as Uncle to the Queen, and as Competitor with the French King for the Universal Monarchy, being mo­ved by Affection and Interest to prevent so violent a breach in his Ally­ance.

But as a Mine when it is sprung, doth oftentimes other kind of Execu­tion then they who fire it intended it should, so happen'd it in this Case: For instead of making a small breach upon the Kings Peace, that might a­mount to no more but the causing a temporary abstinence from the Queens Bed de praesenti only (to which 'twas hop'd she her self might give occasi­on, by a voluntary Retirement into some Cloyster, where she might re­main civilly dead, till his Excellency the Cardinal made up the breach a­gain) it begat such a rupture in his Thoughts, that he could have no rest: and as one sick at heart, thought himself not safe in the hands of any one Physician, neither indeed of all those that he had at home, till he had the Opinions of those in all the Universities abroad; which made the business so publick, that Luther (who had a little before set up for himself) find­ing there might be a good Conclusion from so bad a Beginning, by making way for some Protestant Lady of that Country, that might advance the Reformation begun by him there, he vext the Question a long while: and finding that the Pope, over-aw'd by the Emperour, durst not consent to a Divorce, he to scandalize him the more, set forth, by many learned Ar­guments, the unlawfulness of the Marriage; and so nettled King Henry, that the Pope doubting the effects of his Impatience, propos'd by way of Expedient (though but faintly) to Gregory Cassalis the English Resident, then at Rome, that he would permit him ut aliam duceret Uxorem, which in plain English was, That if the King pleased, he would allow him to have two Wives at once. Now whether it were that the King doubted his power, and thought he could not make good what he promised, for that he could not make that Marriage out, which he had already, to be either lawful or unlawful, so as to relieve him or dismiss it: Or whether he had (as is more probable) a clear Sentiment of the Popes slight Opinion of him, in making so unusual, not to say unlawful a Proposal to him, is not certain; but certain it is, he never forgave the Affront, till by vertue of his own pro­per power he had divorced himself from his Authority: which the Car­dinal labouring to uphold by his Legatine power, out of hope of being himself Pope, nor only lost himself in the attempt, but drew all he Cler­gy who took part with him into a Premunire: Of whose Error his wise Servant Cromwel took the advantage, making his Masters fall the occasion of his own rising, by whom the thoroughly humbled Convocation we [...]e per­swaded [Page 292] to petition the King for their pardon, under the Title and Stile of Ecclesiae & Cleri Anglicani Protector, & supremum Caput; which rais'd a greater dispute upon the Supremacy not long after, then was before upon the point of Divorce. For the Bishop of Rochester, who by reason of his great learning and sanctity of Life, was a leading man, refusing to subscribe the aforesaid Petition, unless some words might be added by way of ex­planation of the Kings Supremacy; Cromwel took the Defence thereof upon himself, and by advice with Bishop Cranmer, there were many Ar­guments brought to justifie the same, both from the Authority of Kingship in general, de Communi Jure, by vertue of that Divine Law that has given the stile of a Royal Priesthood to all anointed Kings (and to which by a pa­rallel Case the Pope himself did not long after give more then a seeming al­lowance:) For Clement the Seventh, at the interview of Marselles, when he was urged by some that desired Reformation, and prest for the liberty of receiving the Sacrament in both kinds, by an Argument taken from the custome of the Kings of France, who alwayes received both Elements; he answered, That it was a peculiar priviledge by which Kings were differenced from other men, as being anointed with the Unction of Priesthood, as likewise from the particular Prerogative of the Kings of this Isle, de proprio Jure, or by the Common Law of this Land, which was of ancienter date then any Pre­scription made by the Pope, having been ratified by the Sanction of several Acts of Parliament, that had declar'd all Spiritual Jurisdiction to be inherent in the Crown. This Doctrine of his wanted not its Use, for the King had this immediate benefit of the Dispute, to be restored to the Annates and First-fruits of the Bishopricks: and now the Bond of his Holiness 's Au­thority being thus loosed, one priviledge dropt out after another, till at length they not only divested him of the profit, but of the honour of his Fatherhood, forbidding any to call him any more Anciently written Pa. Pa. i. e. Pater Patriarcharum Papa or Pater, for that there could be but one Lord and Father, but only Bishop of Rome.

These Annates, as they were some of the principal Flowers of the Tri­ple Crown, and could not well be pluck'd off without defacing the Sacred Tyara, so the whole Conclave took such an alarm at the loss of them, that apprehending no less then a total defection to follow, they most peremp­torily cited the King himself to appear at Rome under pain of Excom­munication. This was thought to be so unreasonable an Indignity offered to his Majesty (in respect it was neither convenient for him to abandon his Kingdom, by going so far in Person, nor any way decent to trust the Se­crets of his Conscience to a pragmatical Proctor) that the Parliament, who were conven'd to consider of the matter, thought it but necessary to put a stop to all Appeals to be made out of the Realm, under the penalty of Premunire; and pray'd his Majesty without more ado to appoint a Court of Delegates here at home, to determine the Cause. Upon which the Marriage being not long after declared void, Cromwell hastned on the Match with the Lady Anne Bulloigne; but the Court of Rome judging the first Marriage good, and the last void, anathematiz'd all that were assistant in the Divorce: and to shew how much they were incens'd by the preci­pitation of their Sentence, they concluded it in one only, which by the usual Form could not be finish'd in less then three Consistories. This be­gan that Fiery tryal which followed not long after, wherein we may say his Holiness himself prov'd to be the very first Martyr, dying immediately after the pronunciation of that great Curse, as one blasted by the Light­ning of his own Thunder, whereby the Church Universal being without a [Page 293] Head. The Reformists here took that opportunity to provide for their own, by declaring the King Supream Head in Earth of the Church of England: for the support of which Dignity, they vested in the Crown the First-fruits of all Benefices (as they had before of all Bishopricks) Dignities: and Offices whatever spiritual. Setting forth in what manner Bishops Suf­fragans should be nominated and appointed, and what their Priviledges and Authorities should be. In defence of which their proceedings, the King himself wrote an excellent Book (or at least it pass'd for his) De Potesta­te Christianorum Regum in suis Ecclesiis, contra Pontificis Tyrannidem, &c. But there were many however, and those of no small note, who continued so obstinate in their Popish Principles, that they could neither be moved by his Pen nor his Penalties to submit, chusing rather to part with their Blood then their Blessing: And whether they were real or mistaken Mar­tyrs, or not rather Sufferers then Martyrs, I will not take upon me to say, it being as hard for others to judge them, as for themselves to judge the thing they died for; Truth and Treason being in those dayes Qualities, so like one another, that they were scarcely to be discern'd, as appears by the nice Cases of those two, I think the most eminent persons of all that were so unhappy as to suffer for setting up the Papal above the Regal Au­thority, the Learned Bishop of Rochester, and the Judicious Chancellor Sir Thomas Moore; whose Contradiction could no way determine the Point, though it was the occasion of determining their Lives; their Cases being made worse by the same way they thought to have made their Causes bet­ter: The first being found Guilty of saying too much for himself; t'other of saying too little. The Bishop desiring to add to his Oath those words by way of Explanation, Quantum per Christi Legem liceret, had this in­terpretation by the Lawyers, upon his Interpretation, that the addition a­mounted to a flat denial and depriving the King of his Title and Digni­ty, within the Statute of 26. being in effect, that per Christi Legem non liceret. The wise Chancellor (admonish'd as he thought sufficiently by the Bishops error) to avoid the danger of any Interpretation, ran into a worse: for answering nothing when the Kings Councel ask'd his Opini­on of the Supremacy, his Silence was interpreted Misprision of Treason with­in the Statute aforesaid, for that (as the Indictment run) Malitiosè Silebat.

Paul the third being in the Chair at the time when these two eminent men suffered, hearing the King had seal'd his new Title in Blood, thought it in vain to expect longer his Return to the Apostolick Obedience (as he call'd it) and therefore peremptorily summon'd him by a terrible Bull to appear within Ninety dayes, and make his submission, otherwise he and all that assisted him, should be given up to utter Damnation, as judged He­reticks. The King depriv'd of his Realm, the Realm depriv'd of his Be­nediction, all the Issue by the last Match declar'd Illegitimate, all Ties of Allegiance discharged, all Commerce with other States forbidden, the Leagues made by other Princes with him nullified, the Nobility command­ed to take up Arms against him, and the Clergy to depart the Kingdom: Now because this last seem'd to be the greatest Menace, at least the Pope would have it thought so, both in respect of his power over them, and theirs over the Conscience: the King took the first advantage of it and sent away many of them against their wills, dissolving no less then Six hundred forty five of their Societies, which much forwarded his Designs with the Con­federate Princes of Germany, whose Friendship now he seem'd to have some need of, they believing by this he would wholly renounce all Papistry: to which his late Queen was highly disaffected, and against which his great [Page 294] Minister Cromwell was deeply ingaged, and from which himself was suffi­ciently discharged by the Popes declaring him (as he did) a Heretick: for now could he be no further bound to Paul the Third, then his Ancestor Henry the Second was to Alexander the Third (the first Pope that was ever acknowledged here) to whom he made only a Conditional Oath, Quod ab Alexandro summo Pontifice, & ab Catholicis ejus Successoribus non recederet, quamdiu ipsum sicut Regem Catholicum habuerint. Gern. Dowbern. Col. 1422. 18. then thereupon dispatch'd an Ambassador to him to desire him to accept the Title of Patron and Defender of their League. But the News of Queen Anne's Execution, which for the suddenness and severity of it, not to say any thing of the Injustice (because some were of Opinion that the least Cause of Jealousie in Queens is equivalent to guilt in private Women) begat such an abhorrence of his dire Inconstancy (for she was flourishing, ac­cused, condemned, beheaded, and another placed in her room at Bed and Board, and all within a Months space) that they fell off again from the Treaty they had entertain'd, almost as soon as they began it, believing it a Scandal to their Cause (as some of them said) to need the protection of the Devil: However the great Ministers here gave it out that the Discrepan­cy of Interest was the only cause of the Breach, they requiring Money of him, without being able to answer the Reciproc on their part. But the true State-Reason was, that some of the wiser sort conceiv'd they could not safely ad­mit his Supremacy, for fear they should be oblig'd by the same rule to set up a Title for their own Soveraign the Emperor, in his Dominions, which would be more inconvenient then to leave it where it was in the Pope, who being at further distance, could not so easily reach them. But long it was not ere the unexpected cause of that Innocent Queens sufferings was made ma­nifest by the unexpected Labour of Queen Jane her Successor, who made so good speed to bring the King a Son and Heir (which was the thing he desired above all things in the World) that being married on the Twentieth of May she fell in Labour the Twelfth of October following. But Provi­dence that had decreed she should only Conceive, but not bring forth, to signalize the Revenge of Queen Anne's Death, by that of hers, put it into the Kings heart to turn himself Man-Midwife, rather then lose the hopes of a Kingdom; who accordingly commanded the Child to be rip'd untimely out of her Womb: an act of great horrour, and so much more unwilling­ly perform'd, for that he was unprovided of another Wife for the present. In this Condition Bishop Gardner found him at his Return out of Germany, who putting him out of all hopes of any Closure with the Protestant Prin­ces, unless he would come under the Standard of their Faith, and allow of the Augustan Confession; easily perswaded him to purge himself of the scandal of Heresie, by shewing the World he had only shook off the Pope, but not the Religion. Here the Scene chang'd again, and the first thing appear'd was that bloody Statute containing the Six Articles, which being discharg'd as a Murthering Piece amongst the new Reformists, cut off most of those who stood in its way: the Report whereof was so loud and terri­ble, that the two great Prelates, Latimer Bishop of Worcester, and Shax­ston Bishop of Salisbury, were frightned out of their Bishopricks; who not being willing to have any hand in the approbation or execution of them, suffer'd as patiently under his Title of Defender of the Faith, as the Bishop of Rochester and Sir Thomas Moore had before under that of his Supremacy. And now Conscience being revolted from its ancient way of resolving Doubts, to an abrupt Decision of the Common Law, that did not instruct but force the Offender [...], 'tis not so much a wonder how so many came to [Page 295] suffer death under his Reign, as how so many surviv'd it; all Papists be­ing in danger to be hang'd, and all Anti-papists to be burn'd. Yet in this great Storm Cromwell behav'd himself like a wise Pilot, who finding he could not prevent the running of the Vessel in a contrary Course to his mind, thought it enough that he kept it from being quite over-set▪ and ac­cordingly with great dexterity he brought on the Treaty once more with the Confederate Princes, who were it seems alarum'd by the Counter-League which the Roman Catholicks set up under the Title of The Holy League; the consequences of which being justly to be suspected, he made use of their present apprehensions to renew the Treaty, and by his contri­vance there came a Letter to the King from Melancthon (to whom the King seem'd alwayes to have great regard) exhorting him to perfect the Refor­mation begun, as well in the Doctrinal as the Ceremonial part of Worship. To which the King, by advice of Gardiner, gave this Answer, That he would make a League with them in honest Causes, as he had done with the Duke of Juliers, and after that he would treat of an Accord in Religion. This be­ing no way satisfactory to them, much less to Cromwell, who had slatter'd them with hopes of a better Accommodation, he cast about another way to compass his end, and knowing very well that the King did alwayes pre­fer his Pleasure before his Revenge (as those that mean to take great Fishes bait their Hooks with flesh) so he held up the Treaty with the Proposal of a new Match, that he believ'd could not but be very acceptable, not only in respect of the Kings having been near three Years a Widower, but for that it was such as (he said) would at once anger and curb the Emperor, the Popes only Executioner, to make good his late Fulmination: This was a Daughter to the Duke of Cleve, who being a Protestant, and Father in Law to the Duke of Saxony, and next Neighbour to the Emperors Dominions in the Low Countries: there seem'd to be in the Proposal great considera­tions of State, besides that of Riches and Beauty; the last being the first thing in the Kings Thoughts, wherein Hans Holbin the famous Painter contributed much to the deceiving him, which whether it prov'd more un­fortunate to her, or Cromwell, I cannot say: but it so fell out, that the King disgusting her after he saw her, was easily prevail'd with to repudi­ate her, and consequently to reject the Match-maker, who having it in his Fate to be undone (as he was at first set up) by the Smock, was sacrificed to the Envy of the People rather then his Masters Displeasure, who let them lay the load of his Faults upon him, and being a Prince that drew upon all his great Ministers more blame then either they could bear, or durst answer, he left him to perish under the weight of it. And which made his Case more deplorable perhaps then that of most others that felt the weight of his Iron Rod, and therefore look'd more like a Judgment from Heaven then Earth, was, First, that he suffer'd him to be condemn'd, at the same time all other men, by a general and free pardon, were indempni­fied from the same Crimes, of which he stood accus'd. Secondly, in that he died like Phalaris, by an Instrument (as some say) of his own in­venting. Thirdly and lastly, that after having been Vicegerent to the De­fender of the Faith, he should dye as an Heretick for opposing the Faith, after having had the repute of a faithful Servant, indeed so faithful, that (as Cranmer's Letter to the King, yet to be seen, testifies) he cared not whom he displeas'd to serve his Majesty, he should dye like one that had merited no favour from him. That he who was so vigilant to detect all Treasons in their Embrio, should dye like a Traytor himself. That he that had no bounds set to his Authority, should dye for exceeding his Commission. [Page 296] Lastly, That he who was the only Master of Requests, and gave an answer to all men that made any Addresses to the King, should himself dye unheard as well as unpitied. But when we consider all this, we must conclude the end of some mens Rise is to keep others from Falling; Providence oftentimes upholding Justice even by Injustice, that so by correcting some men caus­lesly, she may certainly teach all men Caution.

The King having thus rid himself of his new Wife, and his old Servant, both submitting to his Will; the first with the loss of her Estate and Digni­ty (for instead of being his Queen, she was adopted his Sister) the last with the loss of both his Estate and Life; he found the means to repair the want of the one (though he could not of the other) by taking to his Bed (per­haps with no disparity to his Greatness, if there had been none betwixt her own Vertue and Beauty) the fair Lady Katherine Howard, Neece to the Duke of Norfolk, who seems to be born to be a Scourge of the Injustice shew'd to his former Wives, whilst her Incontinence, under the veil of a clear and most modest behaviour appear'd so notorious, that being confessed by her self, he himself was forc'd to suffer in the shame with her: which he was so sensible of, that we find by a Law ex post facto, he labour'd to prevent the like for the future. And now being as it were weary of Plea­sures of that kind, this being his fifth Wife that was executed, or suffer'd worse, his Love gave place once more to his Ambition, which he gratified with a new Title, or rather the Superfoetation of an old one, causing him­self to be stiled King of Ireland, whereas none of his Predecessors were o­therwise stiled then Lords thereof: which, as it was in the first place in­tended by him as an additional honour to that Nation, rather then to himself, so in the last place he did it to prevent James the Fifth of Scot­land, who had an Invitation from some of the discontented Nobility there, to have taken it on him, having before affronted him by assuming the Title of Defender of the Faith, with the addition only of the word (Christian) as if there were any other Faith but what was in truth so: and because he was resolv'd to quarrel him upon it, he sent to require Homage to be paid him for that Kingdom, urging that the Kings of that Nation had for many Ages submitted themselves in a qualified Condition of Vassalage un­der the Kings his Ancestors, both before and since the Conquest.

This begat a War which ended not with the Life of that King, being struck to the heart with the melancholy apprehensions of being over­match'd: who dying, left a young Daughter to succeed, whom King Hen­ry thought a fitting Wife for his Son Prince Edward; and accordingly after­ward, in despight of all the tricks of the French Party, that then rul'd there, he brought it to such a Treaty, as amounted to a Contract, being un­der Hands and Seals of both sides. But the Scots shewing themselves by their wonted breach of Faith, to be true Scots, all ended in War, wherein though he were victorious, yet the main business was nothing advanc'd by the Success, there being more done then became a Suiter for Alliance, and too little for one pretending to Conquest. Hereupon he was forc'd to try the Fortune of another Treaty with the discontented Earl of Lenox, who having formerly been set up by the French, to be Governour of the young Queen and the Kingdom, but deserted by them when he had most need of their aid, he was thought the fittest Person to be tampered with for regain­ing the Point, or at least to keep all quiet there: whilst the King, assisted by the Emperour, with whom he had newly entred into a strict League, sought more considerable Glory in the Invasion of France, whither he resol­ved to go again in Person: where, notwithstanding that King out of dread [Page 297] of his power, had summon'd all his Feises, and brought together his Arrereban (as they call them) to oppose him; he took the Town of Bul­loigne, and had undoubtedly inlarged his Conquests to the very Walls of Paris, had not the Emperour privately patch'd up a Peace without him. Upon notice whereof he thought fit to return home to reinforce the War in Scotland: where, though he did not much, yet 'twas more perhaps then was expected at that time. For notwithstanding their conjunction with the French, who entred upon one side, whiles they prest in on the other, both setting upon him, like two Mastiffs upon a Lion, yet he only rowsing himself, shook them off again, and pursuing them home to their own doors, did them so much more mischief then they were able to do to him, that they call'd for quarter, choosing rather to treat then fight: upon which there ensued a Peace, the Conditions whereof whoe're examines, will find that he knew how to yield, as well as how to conquer, giving them the repu­tation of having back their good Town of Bulloigne, but they were to pay him for it Eight hundred thousand Crowns, and the possession was to be his till the last payment were made.

And now having as it were tired himself with Victory, it was time to re­tire into the consideration of taking his eternal rest, having seen many of his brave men go before him; as the valiant Lord Poynings, the Hardy Duke of Suffolk, his constant Favorite, the Noble Lord Ferrers of Chartley, the brave Lord Grey, &c. And it being now the Eight and thirtieth year of his Reign, and the Six and fiftieth of his Age, labouring under an unusual heavi­ness of Body, and perhaps a greater of Mind, having made Peace with all Enemies, but the Scots and Pope, having dis-joynted the Frame of Religi­on, and drove away most of those that should put it in frame again, having by the Severity of his Justice taken off two Queens, two Cardinals (for Pool stood condemn'd, though not apprehended) three Dukes, Marquisses, Earls, and Earls Sons twelve, Barons and Knights eighteen, which could not but irritate much the Temporal Nobility; and of Bishops, Abbots, Priors, Monks, Priests (which as much incenst the Clergy) no less then Se­venty seven, having offended his Roman Catholick Subjects, by disowning the See of Rome, and his Protestant Subjects, by rejecting the Reforma­tion; he was brought at last to that unhappy period, to leave the Crown to a Child, whose condition was like to prove as uncertain, under the Go­vernment of a Protector, as the Kingdom under his; which in case of want of Issue of his Body, was to descend to his two Sisters successively; of whose Legitimacy, Religion, and Title, there were as many scruples before they parted from the Soveraignty, as ever their Father conceiv'd in point of State, Conscience, or Honour, before he parted from their Mothers. So from the Catastrophe of his whole Story we may bring this remark, That as no man could measure his Happiness by his Greatness, so neither can they take any scantling of his Greatness by any thing that the World calls Happiness: it being very true which the Marquiss of Dorset told him very plainly, and not unpleasantly, at a time when he was ill dispos'd to hear a Jest, and not well prepared to be serious, to wit, That no man could be truly mer­ry that had above one Wife in his Bed, one Friend in his Bosom, and one Faith in his Heart.

EDW. VI. date of accession 1546

HONI · SOIT · QVI · MAL · Y · PENSE

THE Complection of the Government of these three last Kings, Grand­father, Father, and Son, seems to have been as different as that of themselves. The first whereof may be said to have been Melancholy, the next Cholerick, and this last (inclining to Flegm) the weakest Constitu­tion of all. His Fathers Reign was like that under the Law, which being violent, fierce, and terrible, was typified under the form or figure of a Lion: His like that under the Gospel, being gentle, soft, and mild, was not unfitly compared to a Lamb; which in respect of the proportion of time it held, was as little in Stature, in comparison of the other, as a Lamb to a Lion, and not without as apparent imbecillity, and that upon a threefold Accompt: First, in respect of the tenderness of his own Age, being upon the matter a Child when he came to the Crown; and such an one, as was so much the weaker, by how much he received his Life by the Death of her that gave it him: which the Male-contents of that Age, inter­preted a portent of his beginning, with the destruction of his Mother the Church. Secondly, in respect of the Nonage of the Reformation, which at the time of his Fathers Decease, was scarce old enough to speak its Mo­thers Tongue, at least not to be understood but by very few; there being no more permitted to be in English, but the Ave-Mary, the Pater-Noster, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments. Thirdly and lastly, in respect to the unnatural Division betwixt his two nearest Relations by his Mothers side, the Duke of Somerset, and the Lord Sudley his Uncles; the one Protector of his Person, and so absolute Lord by Land; the other Lord High Admi­ral, and so absolute Lord by Sea: which Quarrel, as it took up most of the time of his Reign, so it ended not till they ended themselves, and by their own, did in effect make way to his destruction. The Contest betwixt them being not much unlike that betwixt a Pilot and a Captain of a Ship in a storm, who disputing one anothers Authority, the Weather-beaten Vessel driving upon the Sand, by first parting it self, parts them. The Protector [Page 299] seem'd to have a visible advantage of the Admiral in Years, Dignity, and Authority: however, all he could do, could not bring him (though the younger Brother) to stoop; but as he wrestled hard before he fell, so fal­ling, he pluck'd t'other down with him: which shews there was something more in the Quarrel, then what is generally reported to have been the ground of it. For however it be imputed to the Emulation of their two proud Wives, whose Animosities (not much unlike that of Chrispina the Wife of Commodus, and Lucilia the Relict of Lucius Verus) mixing with the Cause of Religion (the one being a Protestant, t'other a Papist) did at last di­vide the whole Kingdom, as well as their own Families: yet 'twas not in the power of Envy or Pride to have so divided them, had not Nature had its share in the Fewd, as well as Providence; that giving them different Constitutions, as t'other had created them different Interests▪ for the Pro­tector was mild, affable, open, and well-meaning, and had he been as free from Covetousness as he was from Jealousie, must needs have had the better of his younger Brother: the other was fierce, turbulent, and ambitious, but withal very generous and Magnificent; and had not his resolution ten­ded to rashness, he must needs have had the better of his elder Brother. The one's Spirit was fitted to the King, t'others more agreeable to the Time: both were active and stirring; both alike valiant; but not alike bold. The Duke had the odds in point of Dignity; the Admiral the advantage in point of Fortune. The first valued himself at the rate as he was set o­ver a King; t'other look'd on himself as he was in some sense the Superiour of a Queen: for he had married the Lady Katherine Parr, the last of King Henry's Wives, who challenging Precedence before the Protectors Wife, gave occasion to that Dispute, which after heightned the difference betwixt them. The elder Brother's Wife claiming the place in right of her Hus­band, the better man every way; the younger's Wife insisting on her own Right, as being as undoubtedly the better Woman. The first was a Lady of the higher Spirit; the last a Lady of the higher Place. This had been a Queen, but was in the wain of her Glory; the other was the present Wife of one that then represented a King, and was in the ascendent of his Glory. In this Feminine Quarrel (wherein for the most part the Dignity of the Man gives the rule of respect to that of the Woman) the Authority of the elder Brother so overwhelm'd the younger, that he finding he could not be his Equal, till he became his Superiour, resolv'd to attempt to pluck him down, and vault into the empty Saddle; to seize on the King, and by ha­ving him, to get likewise the Power of the Kingdom. Neither wanted he Courage, Money, or Friends, to accomplish the Design: all the Roman Ca­tholick Nobility being well-wishers to him; but particularly he had inga­ged the Earl of Warwick (after Duke of Northumberland) the greatest man of Power, and the Marquiss of Dorset, after Duke of Suffolk, the greatest Man of Interest; the one drawn in by the hopes of advancing his Son, t'other his Daughter. For the Admiral was so insolent as to promise them, that the first should marry one of the Kings Sisters, and t'other the King himself. Whereby 'twas apparent he intended to make the Consequences of his Suc­cess no less fatal to the whole Kingdom, then to his Brother.

Now whether his Lady, that had been the Wife of a King before, did (while she was alive) put him upon any hopes of being so now (for am­bitious Men, like seal'd Doves, mount the higher for being blinded) is not certain; but certain it is, that as soon as she died (which was not long af­ter) he resum'd the confidence to approach so near the Throne, as to Court the Lady Elizabeth the second time, now grown a little riper for consent, [Page 300] then when he first mov'd the Question to her. Neither was it carried so secretly, but that his Brother had an insight into the whole practice, and at last discover'd the whole Plot; but conceal'd his knowledge of it, either out of pity or prudence, as loath to ruin him with the hazard of losing himself; or as doubting perhaps that the Sword of Justice was not long e­nough to reach him, at least not sharp enough to cut thorough the knot of the whole Conspiracy. But as Fate never fails undoing the man she has de­termin'd to destroy, and when she falls upon him, makes the first stroke at his head: so happen'd it in this unhappy Lords case, who being unexpe­ctedly undermin'd, was blown up by a Train that seems to have taken fire as it were by Lightning from Heaven, his Treason being first detected out of the Pulpit; and the Protector his Brother so prest, by an eloquent Sermon of Bishop Latimer, to Impeach him, that he being not able to clear him, was in some sence obliged to clear himself by a Speech which prov'd as o­minous as it was obvious, saying at the same time he caus'd him to be ap­prehended, That he would do and suffer Justice. And so he did, when he sign'd the Warrant for his Execution (after the Parliament found him Guilty) with his own Hand. A singular piece of Self-denial, and such as is rarely found in Story (there being very few that so much prefer the publick before their own private Interest, as not to spare their own flesh and blood.) However, looking so like Revenge, it was by most men judg'd unnatural, and taking no less from the honour of his Justice, then t'other intended to have taken from the Prerogative of his Honour, so shuck the frame of his Authority, that it broke in pieces presently after; and both Factions of Papists and Protestants falling off from him, he was expos'd to the cunning of Warwick, and the scorn of the Marquiss of Dorset, his most unreconcileable Enemies. The Papists quit him as believing the Obligation ceas'd by which, when he ceas'd by whom they were held in, having been true to him no otherwise, but for his Brothers sake only. The Protestants fail'd him, because they doubted he might fail them: for how could they think he would give them any Assistance, that had given to his own Brother so little. Thus when two great Trees grow up together out of one and the same Stock, we see that the cutting down of the one commonly indangers the blowing down of the other; which remaining single and expos'd to every storm, cannot stand unless it have a firm ground, as well as a spreading Root. Neither was it long that the Protector bore up after his Brothers Fall: the great care he took to build his From his Tittle call'd Somerset-house House, being no less fatal to him, then the little care he had to support his Family, whiles the Stones of those Churches, Chap­pels, and other Religious Houses that he demolish'd for it, made the cry out of the Walls so loud, that himself was not able to indure the noise; the Peo­ple ecchoing to the defamation, and charging him with the guilt of Sacri­ledge so furiously, that he was forced to quit the place, and retire with the King to Windsor, leaving his Enemies in possession of the strength of the Ci­ty, as well as the affections of the Citizens, who by the reputation of their power, rather then the power of their repute, prevail'd with the King as ea­sily to give him up to publick Justice, as he was before prevail'd with to give up his Brother: it being no small temptation to the young King to for­sake him, when he forsook himself so far, as to submit to the acknowledge­ment of that Guilt he was not conscious of. The Lawyers charged him with removing Westminster-hall to Somerset-house. The Souldiers with detaining their Pay, and betraying their Garrisons. The States-men with ingrossing all Power, and indeavouring to alter the Fundamental Laws, and the ancient Religion. But he himself charg'd himself with all these Crimes, [Page 301] when he humbled himself so far, as to ask the Kings pardon publickly, which his Adversaries were content he should have, having first strip'd him of his Protectorship, Treasurership, Marshalship, and Two thousand pound a year Land of Inheritance. But that which made his Fate yet harder was, that after having acquitted himself from all Treason against his Prince, he should come at last to be condemn'd as a Traytor against his Fellow-Subject, whilst the Innocent King labouring to preserve him, became the principal Instru­ment of his Destruction: who by reconciling him to his great Adversaries, made the Enmity so much the more incompatible; who at the same time he gave the Duke his Liberty, gave the Earl of Warwick and his Friends the Complement of some new Titles, which adding to their Greatness, he rea­sonably judg'd might take from their Envy. The Earl himself he created Duke of Northumberland, and Lord High Admiral of England; and to ob­lige him yet more, married up his eldest Son the Lord Dudley, to his own Cosin, the second Daughter of the Duke of Somerset, whom he gave to him for the more honour with his own hand: and made Sir Robert Dudley, his fourth and his beloved Son (the same that was after made by Queen Eli­zabeth Earl of Leicester) one of the Gentlemen of his Bedchamber. And to gratifie the whole Faction, he made the Marquiss of Dorset, Duke of Suf­folk, the Lord St. John, Earl of Wilts, and afterwards Marquiss of Winchester, Sir John Russel, who was Northamberland's Confident, he created Earl of Bedford, Sir William Paget, another of his Tools, he made Lord Paget. This the good natur'd King did out of sincere Affection to his Uncle, in hopes to reconcile him so thoroughly to Northumberland, so that there might be no more room left for Envy or Suspect betwixt them. But as there is an invi­sible Erinnis that attends all Great men, to do the drudgery of their Ambi­tion, in serving their Revenge, and observing the Dictates of their power and pride; so it was demonstrable by the most unfortunate issue of this so well intended purpose, that by the same way the King hoped to please both he pleas'd neither: Somerset thinking he had done too much; Northum­berland thinking that he had done too little; who having drunk so deep a Draught of Honour, grew hot and dry, and like one fall'n into a State-Drop­sie, swell'd so fast, that Somerset perceiving the Feaver that was upon him, resolv'd to let him blood with his own hand. And coming one day to his Chamber under the colour of a Visit, privately arm'd, and well attended with Seconds, that waited him in an outward Chamber, found him naked in his Bed, and supposing he had him wholly in his power, began to expostu­late his wrongs with him, before he would give him the fatal stroke: whereby t'other perceiving his intent, and being arm'd with a Weapon that Somerset had not a ready fence for, (an Eloquent Tongue) he acquitted him­self so well, and string'd upon him with so many indearing protestations, as kept the point of his Revenge down, till it was too late to make any Thrust at him. Whereby Northumberland got an advantage he never hop'd for, to frame a second Accusation against him, so much more effectual then the for­mer, by how much he brought him under the forfeiture of Felony, as being guilty of imagining to kill a Privy Counsellor, for which he was the more worthily condemn'd to lose his Head, in that he so unworthily lost his Re­solution, at the very instant of time when he was to vindicate his too much abus'd Patience, thereby betraying those of his Friends that came to second him, into the scandal of a Crime, which (had it succeeded) would have pass'd for a magnanimous piece of Justice, in cutting off one, whom how­ever he was content to spare, Providence it seems was not, reserving him to die a more ignoble death, and by a worse hand.

The sorrow for his ignominious fall, as it much affected the Consumptive King his Nephew, who was now left as a Lamb in the keeping of the Wolf, the Duke of Northumberland, having got as high in Power as Title, by ruin­ing the Family of the Seymours; so his end, which was not long after, put an end to the Reformation, and made way for the Dudley's to aspire with incredible Ambition, and not without hope of setling the Succession of the Crown in themselves. For the Duke finding that the King languish'd under a Hectical Distemper, and having better assurance, then perhaps any one else could, from his Son that alwayes attended in his Bedchamber, that it was impossible for him to hold out long, for Reasons best known to him, he cast about how to introduce the far fetch'd Title of his other Son, who had married the Lady Jane Gray, eldest Daughter to the Duke of Suffolk by the Lady Frances, one of the Daughters and Heirs of Charles Brandon, by his Wife Mary Queen of France, the second Daughter of Henry the Se­venth. And however this seem'd to be a very remote pretention, yet ma­king way to other great Families to come in by the same Line, in case her Issue fail'd (as to the Earl of Cumberland, who had married the other Daugh­ter of Charles Brandon, and to the Earl of Darby that had married a Daugh­ter of that Daughter, and to the Earl of Pembroke, that had married the Lady Jane's second Sister) it was back'd with so many well-wishers, that it was become not only terrible to the Kingdom, but to the King him­self. However, there were two Objections lay in the way, the one the pre­ference that ought to be to the Dutchess Dowager of Suffolk before the Lady Jane her Daughter, in case the right of Inheritance was set up. The other was that of the two next Heirs Females, in case the right of Imme­diate Succession should take place. There was a third also, but he thought it not worth the consideration, being so far off, to wit, the Title of the Queen of Scots, from the Lady Margaret eldest Daughter of Henry the Se­venth, which being in the French, seem'd to be of less weight then if it had been in the Scots, to neither of whom he believ'd the English would ever be brought to submit: but all these Difficulties were quickly digested in his ambitious Thoughts. The first, which was the pretention of the Lady Jane's Mother, he hop'd to set aside, by introducing her as the next Suc­cessor, and not as the next Heir, by right of Descent: and because the Kings Sisters were before her in the Succession, so that nothing could be a­vailable to set aside their Right, but a plain Disseisure, he made use of the Interest of the one, as a Wedge to drive out the other. And finding that the King their Brother, by the Equity of a Law made in his Fathers time, had the power to nominate who he thought fit to come after him; he made it his great business to work upon his weakness, and to perswade him to set both aside, and admit the Lady Jane; taking his first Argument from his Piety and Care of the Church, under the present establishment made by himself: shewing him what danger 'twas like to be in, if so obstinate a Papist as his Sister Mary succeeded, who having been convict before all the Lords of the Councel, had most passionately justified her Popish Principles, saying, She would never change her Faith, much less dissemble it: Urging thereupon that Gods Glory ought to be dearer to him then his own Flesh and Blood, that this was his last and greatest Act, of which he knew not how soon he might be call'd to give an Accompt to the King of Kings; and therefore desired him for Gods sake, as well as for the Kingdoms and his own sake, not to let her take place. Then for the Lady Elizabeth, whom he could not deny to be a Protestant, he said if she should be prefer'd before her elder Sister, it might possibly give an occasion to unconceivable Troubles, and [Page 303] revive the Disputes about their Legitimacy, which had cost too much blood already: besides the hazard that would be of the Churches, no less then their own Peace, and the possibility of bringing the whole Nation under the Yoke of some stranger Prince, to whose Tyranny the People would never submit; concluding, that as the three Daughters of the Duke of Suffolk were nearest in Blood, and being married, took off all fears of introducing Forreigners; so having with their Natural, suck'd in the Sincere Milk of the Word, they could not but maintain the Truth of the Reformed Religion, as well as the Dignity of the Succession, with universal good liking. And whereas the eldest of them (to wit, the Lady Jane before mention'd) was his own Sons Wife, he could be content they should both be bound by Oath to perform whatever his Majesty should Decree, for that he had no such regard to his own as to the general good. Which plausible pretences so prevai [...]'d over the weak King, whose Zeal had eaten up his Understanding, that he made his Will, and accordingly excluded both his own Sisters to let in the other. After doing of which weak act, having nothing more to do, but to dye, 'tis thought the Duke was so grateful, as to contribute much to the delivering him out of his pains, as soon as might be, and with as much ease: for he slept away with that meekness, that those that could not find in their hearts to pray for him living, perform'd that Charity to him when he was dead. However, some there were who sower'd with a Religious Leaven, took oc­casion to raise as great a scandal on the untimeliness of his death, as others had before upon that of his Birth, putting this remark upon it, to make it look like a Judgment, that it was in the same Moneth, and in the very same day of the same Moneth that Sir Tho Moor was put to death by his Father. Wherein whilst they maliciously reflected upon the Evil that was past, they consider'd not how (like another Josiah) he was taken from the Evil to come; departing with this Justification before Men and Angels, That he had done as much as could be reasonably expected from the tenderness of his Years or his Power.

MARY 1553.

TO take that advantage the Duke of Northumberland did of the im­becillity of the late King, and to over-reach him so in the making his Will, having instill'd into him as great a dislike of the Relation of his young­er, as of the Religion of his elder Sister, seems not so strange, as arrogant: but to get that conquest he did over the judgment of his grave Counsellors, and to impose so far upon their honour and honesty, as to have that Will after ratified, as it was, by a solemn Act of State, and so far to over-awe the Cautious, not to say Cautelous, representatives of the City of London (which was a kind of Common-wealth within it self) so far as to make them confirm again the said Act of Counsel by their submission to it, shews not only his Power but his Policy to have been such, that he had nothing further for him to hope or fear, since the vertue of his Daughter, the Lady Jane, could not but be as sufficient a Security for the Affections, as his Wisdom for the Obedience of the People; she being indeed so like the King who declar'd her his Heir, in all the extraordinary, not to say miraculous qua­lifications of his Mind, that being the true Inheritrix of his Graces, every one thought her fit to be so of his Kingdoms. But Heaven having fitted her to be a Saint, rather then a Queen, made use of her Exaltation, to hasten her ambitious Father in Laws Fall; and to punish his Treachery to a King that did not suspect him, by making him too late faithful to a Queen that could not trust him: which shews that his Courage held no proportion with his Wit, nor either with his Ambition. For no sooner heard he of the revolt of the Lord Hastings by Land, and only six great Officers by Sea, but he himself turn'd about, and was so forward in his Apostacy, that he basely quit his being General for Queen Jane, to make himself a Herauld to Queen Mary, proclaiming her Title at Cambridge, as soon almost as the other Lords had done it at London: so apprehensive are those (who have such an Enemy as Guilt within them) of the terror of those Enemies without them.

And now it appear'd how ominous it was for the Innocent Lady Jane to have been brought as she was in state to the Tower. But as she offer'd Violence to her own Inclinations, out of Obedience to those of her Father and Mother, so the assumption of that temporary was in order to the inti­tuling her to a more lasting Glory; being taught the vanity of all humane Greatness by the brevity of that of her own, which lasted not so long as 'tis reported a Dream of one did but a little before; (for there is a Story of one Foxley, a Pot-maker to the Mint in Henry the Eight's time, that slept fourteen dayes together, and no body could wake him, no not with pinch­ing or burning) whereas she came to her self in less then ten dayes, and then, poor Lady, found herself (where he was too) in the Tower ready to be translated (as after she was) from a Kingdom to a Scaffold, and from the Scaffold to a Kingdom again. Happy had it been for her if it had prov'd a Dream only: suffering not so much for any Crime of her own Ambition, as for not resisting that of others; having this aggravation of her affliction, to see her Husband and the Duke his Father executed before her, who both died for the same Fault, but not with the same Faith that she did: The Duke that had therefore importun'd King Edward to give her this fatal honour, to the intent Popery might be utterly abolish'd, declaring when he came to suffer, that he himself was a Roman Catholick, which most think he: had not done, had not some Promises of Life upon condition of turning, de­ceiv'd him at the very instant time of his Death; whereby Queen Mary was quit with him at the last, though she could not deal with him in the first place. For as he was reputed to have had no Faith whilst he lived, so by this abrupt Apostacy he was judg'd to have no Religion when he dyed. There is this further Remark upon him, That as he suffer'd under the same Fate, and upon the very same Block, the late Duke of Somerset did; so 'twas his hap to be laid under the same Stone, in the same Grave, where they now lye side by side as good Friends, that living were unreconcilable Ene­mies: Two headless Dukes, betwixt two headless Queens, The Lady Anna Buloigne, and the Lady Katherine Howard. either as far divided in Religion, as they were in their Affections.

Eight dayes and upwards past between the proclaiming of this Queen and the calling her first Parliament; during which time the two Religions were publickly permitted with equal Indulgence. The Divine Service being so blended with Superstition, that (as one observes) the State of England before her Persecution, was not much unlike that of the Jews af­ter theirs, who presently upon the Captivity, took a mid way between Hebrew and Ashdod: on the same day that Mass was sung in the Quire at Westminster, the English Service was sung in the Body of the Church. And the two Religions (if divided Opinions may deserve that Name) being thus brought to confront each other, no marvel if the Demagogues of each Perswasion, justled for Precedence; the Protestants being back'd by the present Laws, the Papists by the Prerogative: these incouraged by the Queens Opinion, those by her Promises. But as in the close of Day, light and darkness contesting for Superiority, seem equally match'd, till in the end the latter prevails: So happen'd it now upon the death of the late King, whose Religion being different to that of his Successor, the Question was which must take place, and become the Religion of the State: She her self being not so forward to declare after she came to be Queen, as she was before. But to palliate the matter in discharge of her Obligations to the Loyal Protestant Gentry of Suffolk and Norfolk, that were the first set her up, she seem'd content to call a Parliament, that might take off the Odium from her, making way to it by a general pardon, which had so many Excep­tions [Page 306] in it, as shew'd there would be more found at the Convention.

And now being fearless of any more danger by Rivals, happy in the sin­gle possession of her self and Throne, there wanted nothing to compleat her felicity, save that she knew it not. Whereby it fell out so unluckily, that she brought upon her self very great hatred and clamor, by that where­by most Princes secure the love of their People to them: whilst being whol­ly guided by those of her Councel, she submitted her Reason to their Pas­sions, who under the pretence of Religion, ingaged her in the greatest Per­sec [...]tion that ever was known under any Christian Government, causing her to shed more Blood, although she reign'd only five years, four months, and some odd dayes, then was spilt by those two great Tyrants, Richard the Third, and her own Father, putting both together, there dying for Reli­gion only (not to mention what suffer'd on Civil Accompts) no less then Three hundred; whereof there was one Arch-bishop, four Bishops, and twenty one Divines of note. But that which made it the more supporta­ble was, that however she was prodigal of her Subjects Lives, she was yet more sparing of their Livelyhoods: For she began with a rare Example in pardoning the very first Subsidy she had, and she never had but one more. So that putting that which was remitted, against that which was received, she had upon the matter none at all all her time. And yet we find she was in continual Action at home or abroad, having alwayes (as her Father be­fore her) occasion to make use of men at Arms, either to defend or inlarge her Dominions. For as she was obstinate in the Resolution she had taken of restoring the Popes Authority, contrary to the promise she made to those who first set her up; being perswaded by the Priests that rul'd there, that she had no such way to manifest her Faith as by the breach of it: So she cut out so much matter for Rebellion, by the Violence she offer'd both to Con­science and Interest, that she had little Rest, but no Peace all her dayes.

Now whether it were a natural Distrust of her weakness, as she was a Wo­man, or a Feminine Diffidence of her Wisdom, as she was a Maid, or that in truth she desir'd a help meet for satisfaction of her Affections, as well as for support of her Affairs, is not otherwise to be judg'd, then by the choice she made: But so it was, that finding she could not stand by her self with­out a Husband, no more then an Adjective without a Substantive, she pro­pos'd it as the first thing to her Councel, directing them to make choice of such an one for her, as might be as fit to give Laws to her, as she to them. Three there were in Proposal for her; Philip Infant of Spain, Son to the Emperour Charles the Fifth, the old Cardinal Pool, and the young Marquiss of Exeter: to each of which, as there were some Motives to draw her Affections, so there were many Arguments to disswade her from them. Those that had respect to the settlement of the Kingdom, thought Philip the fittest match, as being a Puissant King, strengthned with many great Allies, and who had as great an Enmity to the French (the only Ene­my England ought to fear) as they themselves. But against him the first Objection was, That he was a Stranger. The second, That being Native of Spain, he probably might by this Match bring England into some danger of Subjection to that Kingdom. And lastly, That there was somewhat of undecency, not to say inequality, in respect to his Person, for that it seem'd strange that she should be the Wife of the Son now, who thirty years be­fore should have been Wife to the Father. Those that stood for the Cardi­nal urg'd his Love to his Country, and the Love the Country had for him, in respect of his great Sanctimony and Wisdom, which rendred him parti­cularly acceptable to the Queen: then for his Dignity, he was not much in­feriour [Page 307] to Kings, and by his Mother descended from Kings; and for his Age, it was more agreeable to that of the Queens, then that of either of the other two. But the principal end of Marriage being Procreation, he fell under an exception not to be answer'd, as being a Batchelor of near Sixty four years old, and so needed a Nurse rather then a Wife. The Youth of the Lord Courtney, being a brisk Cavalier, and by Birth, as well as the best Blood of England and France could make him, gave him the prefer­rence above the Cardinal. But some of the Juncto objecting, That he lov'd Popularity more then ever he could be brought to love the Queen, and that he smell'd too ranck of Lutherism to be her Bed-fellow, they car­ried it by a general Vote against him, for King Philip: as well to take off all Exceptions by the Disparagement of marrying a Subject, as for those sea­sonable and most Incredible Advantages it brought to England, which were express'd in the Instrument of Marriage yet extant, whereof there needs no further mention then the addition of the Netherlands and Burgun­dy, to be for ever a Member of the Imperial Crown of this Realm, in case there had been any Issue betwixt them. All this notwithstanding, such was the unsettledness of the Times, or of mens Minds rather, whilst some were led by Conscience, others by their Temporal Concerns; some out of Love to Reformation, and others out of fear of Superstition; some again out of desire of Change, but most out of dread of Forreign Ser­vitude, that the Conclusion of this Match gave beginning to a desperate Rebellion, which, though at first it seem'd despicable enough, being headed by no better a man then Sir Thomas Wyat, a private Knight of Kent (the Duke of Suffolk, who was in the Conspiracy, being appre­hended almost as soon as he appear'd) yet before it could be supprest, the wise Match-makers found they had met with their Match in that Rebel, who was so fortunate as to rout the Queens General, and take all their Ordnance and Ammunition. Upon which he march'd up with full Assu­rance of taking the chief City; into which though he brought but sive Ensigns, 'tis probable he might have carried it, had not Heaven taken part against him (as usually it doth against Rebels, first arming them with Impudence, and then disarming them with Fear) making the Arch-Tray­tor a terrible Example of unparallel'd Insolence; who, whiles he was at large, continued bold as a Lion, but being once apprehended, prov'd so base a Coward, that brib'd with the hopes of Life, he made himself guilty of a greater Treachery then he was to dye for; accusing Edward Earl of Devon, and the Princess Elizabeth, the Queens Sister, to have been privy to his Conspiracy: which gain'd Credit not so much from the Suspect of any private Affection betwixt them two (although he alleadged they were to be married) as from the secret disaffection either of them had, he to the King that should be, as being his Rival; she to the Queen that was, as being her Disseisor (the two Sisters as little agreeing in point of Right of Succession, as their two Mothers in point of Right of Marriage) but fain he would have acquitted them, when he found he could not be acquitted himself by it; for having serv'd their turn of him, the Statesmen gave the fatal turn to him. However, the malitious Chancel­lor Gardner, resolving to take the Truth at the wrong end, and believe it as he pleas'd, secur'd them in several Prisons, till he were at leisure to examine the matter; being then deeply ingaged in providing Fire and Faggots for those Learned Hereticks, Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, &c. who were to make a Holocaust preparatory to the Queens Nuptials: which having been defer'd by this unexpected Rising, was now propos'd [Page 308] in Parliament. For the greater confirmation, the three States of the King­dom assenting thereto upon the Conditions following: First, That King Philip should admit no Stranger into any Office, but only Natives. Second­ly, That he should Innovate nothing in the Laws and Customes of the Realm. Thirdly, That he should not carry the Queen out of the Realm without her consent, nor any of her Children without consent of the Councel. Fourthly, That surviving the Queen, he should challenge no Right in the Kingdom, but suffer it to descend to the next Heir. Fifthly, That he should carry away none of the Crown Jewels, nor remove any Shipping or Ordnance. Sixth­ly and lastly, That he should neither directly nor indirectly intangle the Realm of England with the Wars betwixt Spain and France. Upon which Terms 'twas hop'd by those affected not the Match, that Philip would knock off, there being neither Youth or Beauty to tempt him. But as the House of Austria did ever prefer their Ambition before their Love, so designing the universal Monarchy, he thought he made a great step to it, by being put in possession of England, and so near intituled to France.

And now the most Catholick King being joyn'd with the Faith defending Queen, it cannot be imagin'd, but that they must begin with Religion: In order to the Regulation whereof, Cardinal Pool (being first restored a­gain in blood and reputation) was sent for over; who arm'd with his Le­gatine Power, and a natural Force of Eloquence, press'd hard upon the Par­liament, and shewed them the danger they were in, by their late Schism; being become (as he said) Exiles from Heaven, and in no capacity to have been ever readmitted, had he not brought from Rome the Keys, that open­ed the gates of Life: and thereupon he advised them to abrogate those Laws, which lay, as blocks, in their way, urging them thereto from the Example of their good King and Queen; who (he said) had resigned their Title of Supream Head, to shew themselves true Members of the Mystical Body, and had made Restitution of those Lands, which had been sacrile­giously taken from the Church by their Predecessor. Which Speech of his being very Methodically digested, and delivered with great gravity, start­led many of the Lords, who reflected upon their Fore-fathers Devotion to the holy See: but those of the lower House, having it seems lower thoughts, and deeming it a rare Felicity, to have shaken off that heavy Yoke, that had so long gall'd their Fore-fathers necks, did not so readily assent to re­ceive his profer'd Fenediction, at so dear a rate, as to part with their Lands, which having been divided by the Queens father amongst them, were by several Settlements and Alienations, so translated from one Family to ano­ther, that, without great Inconvenience, they could not be sever'd from their Temporal Proprieties. However, they so far complyed, as to agree. That the first Fruits and Tenths granted, by the Clergy, to King Henry, An­no 1534, should be remitted. But after they came to consider the Poverty of the Treasure, the reason of the several Pensions, that had been granted in Lieu thereof, by the said King to divers Religious Persons, that were still living, they revok'd their Decree again. Upon which the Legate (not skilful enough to deal with a Multitude, as appear'd afterward by his loo­sing the papal dignity) desisted; content it seems with the honour of having prevail'd over the more devout Queen, the heat of whose Zeal, had so soft­ned her heart, that it was fit for any Impression. Now as he had a better Faculty in Canvassing of the Feminine Sex (which Cardinal Carraffa after­ward Pope Paul IV▪ upbraided him withal in the open Conclave) so he pre­vail'd with her, to give up all that she had in her own possession; who to move others to imitate her piety did it, with that detestation of the Sacri­ledg [Page 309] of her Predecessors, that when one of her wise Counsellors (yet of the same Religion) told her it would be a great Diminution to the Revenues of her Crown, she answered piously, and, as she thought prudently, that she had another Crown to look after, that she valued a thousand times more then that.

But while she is thus careful for the eternal, King Philip, her Husband, was no less busie to secure his Temporal Crown. In order to which, he went over to receive the Blessing of the Emperour, his Father, then in Flan­ders; who upon his Arrival delivered up to him the possession of the Low Countries, having given him the Kingdoms of Naples and Jerusalem before; of the first of which the Pope (either envying or fearing the Emperour's Greatness) had made the French King some Assurance, purposely to ingage him thereby in a War, that might weaken them both. Great Preparations were made by either Party, to secure themselves both with Arms and Alliances; the Emperor leaving all his Dominions on this side to his Son, whilst himself retires into Spain, to alarm the French on the other side; and by his Vicinity to Italy, whose petty Princes he suspected not to be firm to his Interest, makes himself as terrible to his Neighbours as his Enemies. But whilst this great design was in Prospect only, King Philip was suddenly called home by a Brute, that his Queen was with Child; the Joy whereof was so uni­versal, that it is strange to tell how much it transported the whole King­dom; raising them by the hopes of a young Prince to a degree of seeming Infatuation: for they, not only, mock'd God Almighty in the Church, with causeless Thanksgivings, but troubled the King and Queen every hour in Court, with [...]s groundless Petitions for Places of Attendance on the un­born Child; and so far did the Delirium prevail to delude even the Parlia­ment themselves with extravagant apprehensions of their future happiness by the enjoyment of such a Prince, who however he were like to be Lord of the greatest part of Christendom, would yet, in all probability, make England the Seat of his Empire, that they humbly besought the King, in case the Queen should dye in Travel, that he would be pleas'd to take up­on him the rule and government of the Child and Kingdome▪ such ado have great Princes to be born as well as to dye in quiet. But this mistaken Em­bryo proving at length to be nothing else but a Mis-conception, whereof she could not be delivered so, as to make way for any better Conception, turning to such a fleshy inform Substance as Physitians call a Mole, and we vulgarly English a Moon-Calf, it put King Philip so ou [...] of Countenance, that he tarried not a Month here after her time of Reckoning was our, but passing into Flanders, put it out of his head (since he could not put it out of her belly) by beginning a War with France: whereto he had a good ground upon the account of the Five years Truce being broken, that had been made but a little before. The Queen (to requite him for her late Miscarriage) broke with her People, and resolving not to stand Neuter whilst her Husband was ingaged, found occasion to make the French Ag­gressors upon the Crown of England. Whereupon the Earl of Pembroke was sent over with Ten thousand Horse, and Four thousand Foot, who joyning with the Kings Forces (which were Thirty five thousand Foot, and Twelve thousand Horse before they came) they all of them sate down be­fore St Quintins, a Town of great importance, which the French in vain indeavouring to succour, lost Twenty five thousand upon the place: Amongst whom were divers of the greatest Quality, as John of Bourbon Duke of An­guin, the Dukes of Monpensier and Longevile, the Viscount Turein, &c. the Lord Chadenier, the Mareschal St. Andrew, the Rhinegrave, the Con­stable [Page 310] Mount Morency and his Son, Brother to Count Lodowick Gonzaga, Brother to the Duke of Mantova, the Admiral Coligny and his Brother, with divers other Lords of no less eminence, who being all taken with the Town, made it look like the beginning of a War, which every Body judged could not end till the Rupture reach'd to the middle of France. The report of this Victory gave great matter of rejoycing to every Body, but most e­specially to the Queen her self: yet could it not divert that Melancholy occasioned by the conceit of her Misconception, which brought her into a Distemper that not long after kill'd her, by her Physicians mistaking her Malady: who giving her improper Medicines, without regard to the over­cooling of her Liver (which it seems is the mischief attends those Moles) found not their error till she was so far gone into that desperate kind of Dropsie which they call Ascites, that there was no help for her now. That which added to her Distemper was, an over-nice resentment of the Popes displeasure, who offended at her breach with the French, punish'd her (as Princes use to be by whipping their Favourites) with taking away the Le­gatine Power from her beloved Minister Cardinal Pool; to whom, as she had ever a great regard, so she opin'd that the disgrace put upon a Man of so great Authority and Credit, who had been so active in the Conversi­on of the Nation, would (as indeed it did) not only reflect something on her honour, but hazard much the reputation of the Catholick Cause, whiles the Roman Religion was not so fully establish'd as she design'd it should, and the Enemies of the Church no less dangerous to that of her State. This gave her great trouble of Mind; and that trouble being heightened by the ab­sence of her beloved Husband, brought her into a burning Feaver, that fore­told a death that might have proved a living one, had it not been hastned by the news of the revolt of Calais, which being lost in less then six dayes time, after it had continued English above Two hundred years, came so near her heart, that drying up all her Blood, brought her under such a fix'd sadness, as left her not till she left the World. Now to say truth, she had great reason to resent the loss, for as it was the only Key left to let her into France, so it was no small over-sight to hang it by her side with so slender a String, as she did, there being not above Five hundred Souldiers in it when it was attach'd, which were much too few to defend a place of that Importance, where there was a kind of necessity to keep the Gates alwayes open.

ELIZAB. date of accession 1558

KING Philip and Queen Mary being both departed, he out of the Kingdom, she out of the World; this Lady, the only surviving Child of Henry the Eight, took possession as the next Heir: Providence having made way to her Exaltation thorow many troubles, as the Law had to her Title thorow many Disputes. And happy it was for her that she was so unhappy; for by being a Subject, she had learn'd to Rule, and from the sence of her own Sufferings, was much inclin'd to compassionate others. All that were Sword-men admir'd her Courage, as having a Spi­rit too great for any Woman, but such as was born to rule over Men: All that were Gown-men, as much magnified her Understanding, as having by her Wisdom, made her way thorow all the Snares made by her Sisters Ministers to intangle her. So that they could not hold her in that com­mon Drag-net which had taken most of the great Fisher-men of the Church before: For when they put her to that puzling Question of the Real Pre­sence, she avoided it by an Answer every whit as doubtful, yet seemingly very plain, and comprehensive of the Words, Hoc est Corpus meum.

Which, however it seem'd an obscure and uncertain Solution, so baffled all her Adversaries, that the Priests themselves, who hop'd with like Suc­cess to have soil'd her, as the First Temptor did the First Woman, upon the First great Question of Take and Eat, found themselves left in the dark, to grope after her meaning as well as they could, whilst she shut her self up from further Pressures, within the Closet of her own private Sense. But as Wisdom is perhaps the only Vertue that is distrustful of it self, so to [Page 312] shew how little Confidence she had in the strength of her own Abilities, she made it her first business to fortifie her self with able Counsellors. In the choice of whom, her Affections gave place to her Judgment, as her Fears to her Foresight: admitting divers of her Sisters great Ministers, who, having been privy to all the Secrets of State, were like sharp Tools, that are as dangerous as useful, if not skilfully handled: Whom therefore she counterpoiz'd with as many of her own Religion, to the end, that holding the Ballance in her own hand, she might turn the Scale as she saw cause.

Neither was it a thing of small Moment that came first to be weigh'd by her, to wit, the great Business of Religion: The Materials whereof being prepared to her hand by her Brother, as the Foundation was laid to his by her Father, she resolv'd to proceed in Edification of the Church, as Solo­mon did in building of the Temple, with as little noise as might be. And accordingly, as she conform'd to take her Assumption from the hand of a Popish Bishop, who performed all the Ceremonies of her Inaugura­tion More Romano; so being crown'd, she made choice (as I said) of such a mix'd Councel, as might put her out of all doubt of over-setting the Vessel, by loading too much upon any one side, and out of all danger of Foundring, by steering their Course in too streight a Line cross the Sur­ges of the swelling Tide; and because she designed to shew her Moderati­on, as well as her Wisdom, she did not put out the Candle-light of Pope­ry all at once, but let in the Sun-shine of the Gospel by such degrees, that the People might neither be left altogether in the Dark to grope after new Laws, nor yet expos'd to be dazled with the two sudden approach of the greater Light; refining the Mass with such a temperate heat of Zeal, as first took off the Scum only, that is, the foulest and grossest part of Super­stition; then proceeded to purge out the thinner Dross of scandalous Mat­ter; and in the last place, she took away what appear'd superfluous and unnecessary, retaining only the sounder part▪ out of which she made up that Form of Service, which hath ever since continued to be used in the Church of England: Whose ground work she laid upon the Holy Scrip­tures, making up the Superstructure of the Doctrine of the Nicen. A­thanasian, and Apostles Creed. Three Creeds approv'd and confirm'd by those great Masters of Assemblies in the Four first General Councels, worthily esteem'd to be stiled Synodi Firmissimi, and explain'd by several of the Orthodox Fathers in the several Ages fol­lowing, to the intent that co [...]aining Ecclesiar [...]m [...]m [...]ium Fidem, they might be a Rule without all Exception. But whiles she proceeded with this great tendernes [...], in hopes to have pleas'd both Parties, she displeas'd ei­ther: The first being no less griev'd by her Reforming so much, then the last by her Reforming no more. One would have thought that her Clemen­cy would have silenced the Papish, for that she might have purg'd with Fire and Faggot, as her Sister did: And that her Honesty would have sub­dued the Protestants, who they found he [...] to continue to be Semper Eadem, notwithstanding the warm Temp [...]tions wherewith the Pope plyed her for a long time; offering 1. To take away the Sin of her Father, notwithstanding the many injuries don [...] to the Church, and confirming all his Alienations. 2. To take away the reproach of her Mother, by making Null the Sen­tence of Divorce, notwithstanding she never reconciled to the Church. 3. To honour the Memory of her Brother so far, as to allow the use of the Common-Prayer Book in English, recording to his establishment. And lastly, to indulge this to the hono [...] of her own Memory, that her Realm should for her sake only (which never was offer'd before) have the Privi­ledge [Page 313] to receive the Sacrament in both kinds. A well compounded Bait, and such as if it had been large enough to have cover'd the Hook, might probably have taken any other Woman: but as her Conscience forbid her to close with the one, so Reason of State permitted not that she should come nearer the other then she did. For there was newly started up a Ge­neration of Inlightned men, who took upon them to reform her Reformati­on, and make it more Suitable (they would not say Conformable) to Christs Scepter and Kingdom, by rooting out those Representatives of Antichrist, the Bishops, who they thought to differ no otherwise from the Popish Prelates, then Rooks do from Ravens; desiring instead of the Hierarchy, to set up a Gospel Ministry (so they phras'd it) that was cer­tain Evangelicks, after the example of those Congregational Pastors of Geneva, who despising all Order, Habit, or Title, were underpropt or assisted by two Lay-Elders chosen out of the gravest, though not the wi­sest of the People, whose Office (as one observes) like that of the Ears, is only to bear themselves upright and hear what the Praetor says, without any other Ecclesiastical priviledge, pretence, or power. This projection was under-hand carried on by some squint-eyed Lawyers, who having one eye upon the Jurisdiction of the Bishop, t'other upon her Prerogative, took all occasions to detect the nakedness of her Government, and to be­spatter it with scurrilous Libels: Amongst which there could be nothing more bold and Seditious then those two notorious Books, the one intituled The Admonition to the Parliament; the other, The Defence of that Admoni­tion: Not to mention those lewd Pamphlets, call'd by the Names of Mar­tyn Marr Prelate; Christs Scepter and Kingdome; Englands Gulph, &c. by the Oath Ex Officio was rendred Antichristian; and the Oath of Supre­macy not lawful, but in a qualified sense. This giving her sufficient warn­ing to secure the State by fortifying the Church, she caused the Arch-bishop Whitguift to cast three Cannons, which were so plac'd, that Innovation could no way make its approaches to let in any of their Factious Teach­ers: For no man was to be admitted to the Cure of Souls that did not first recognize the Queens Supremacy: Secondly, submit to the use of the Book of Common-Prayer and Ordination of Bishops: and Thirdly, to the Ar­ticles pass'd at the last Synod at London, 1562. and Lastly, Declare that they believ'd either of them consonant and agreeable to the word of God. However it was no small Interruption that these brain-sick men gave to her intended Reformation: and the Mischiefs that attended it were so much more insupportable, by how much they proceeded from a Religious Mad­ness, that reign'd at that time over all Christendome; most of the Neigh­bour Nations, even as far as Italy it self (not excepting the very Domi­nions of the Pope) labouring under the same Distemper, which was a kind of Spiritual Feaver, that caus'd such an Inflammation in their Consciences, as could be cured no other wayes but by Blood-letting, the very worst of Remedies, whereof the King of France made the first experience, and no where so much; by whose Example the King of Spain afterwards did the like; and other Princes imitating them, it is since become a common pra­ctise. This troubled her the more, in respect of the advantages taken by the adverse Party, the Papists; who being more strictly united by these Divisions amongst the Protestants, and deluded by the belief of certain groundless Predictions, that her Reign should be but short, were easily drawn into many desperate Conspiracies, which ending with the Forfei­ture of their own, brought her Life and Government into continual Jeo­pardy.

The next great thing that fe [...]l under her Consideration, was the point of Marriage and Singularity: For it being doubtful in what state the King­dom would be left, if the Queen of Scots Title should ever take place (who besides that she was an avow'd Papist, had married the French Kings Son, who in her Right bore the Arms and Title of England as well as of Scotland) it was told her she would not shew her self a true Mother of her Country, without she consented to make her self a Mother of Children. Whereunto King Philip of Spain (as soon as he heard of Queen Mary his Wives death) gave her a fair Invitation by his Ambassador, the Conde Fe­ria, whom he sent over publickly [...]o Congratulate her as a Queen, but pri­vately to Court her as a Mistress; assuring her that he much rather desired to have her to be his Wife, then his Sister: and as the Report of her being Successor to his Queen, had much allay'd the grief he conceiv'd for her death, so he said 'twas his desire she should take place in his Bed, as well as in his Throne, that so by giving her self to him, she might requite the kindness shew'd by him when he gave her to her self, after her Sister left her exposed to the malice and power of her Enemies. In fine, he omitted no Arguments to gain his end that might be rais'd from the Consideration of her Gratitude, or his own Greatness. But she being naturally Inflexi­ble (not to say as some have said) Impenetrable, lest it to her Councel to return this grave Answer for her, That she could not consent to have him of all men for a Husband, without as great reflection on her Mother as her self, since it could not be more lawful for two Sisters to marry the same Husband, then for two Brothers to marry the same Wife. Secondly, That she could not consent to a Match that was like to prove so unfortunate as this would be, if without Issue; and yet so much more unfortunate with it, in respect her Kingdom of England must by the same Obligation become subject to Spain, as she to him. Thirdly, That nothing could more con­duce to the Establishing that Authority which had been so industriously a­bolish'd by her Father and Brother of blessed Memory, and conscientiously rejected by her self. Fourthly, That it could neither be satisfactory to her self or Subjects, to have such a King to her Husband, whose greatest Concerns being necessarily abroad, could neither regard her nor them, as he ought, much less as they desired. This Denial, though it seem'd rea­sonable enough, yet King Philip inferring that she dislik'd his Person ra­ther then his Proposal, very temperately recommended his Suit to his more youthful Kinsman, Charles Duke of Austria, second Son to the Emperour Ferdinand, who was Rival'd by Eric, eldest Son of Gustavus King of Swe­den, as he by Adolph Duke of Holst, Uncle to Frederick III. King of Den­mark: But neither of these being more successful then his most Catholick Majesty, the whole Parliament became Suiters to her to think of Posteri­ty, and to eternize her Memory not so much by a Successor, like her self, as by one descended from her self. Which serious address she answer'd with a Jest, telling them she was married already: And shewing them a Ring on her Finger, the same she had received at her Coronation, told them it was the Pledge of Love and Faith given her by her dear Spouse the Kingdom of England: which words she delivered with such an odd kind of Pleasant­ness, that all the Wise men amongst them thought she made Fools of them, and the Fools thought themselves made so much wiser by it, as to under­stand her meaning to be that she would not look abroad for a Husband, but take one of her own Subjects. Amongst the rest thus mistaken, was Leicester himself; who having the vanity to believe he might be the man, obstructed his own preferment, when he was propos'd as a fitting Husband for the Queen of Scots.

The Catholick King however he had been rejected, hoping that the Ca­tholick Religion might find better acceptation, continued his Fr [...]endship a long time after his Courtship was ended, being so respectful to the Nati­on (not to say to the Queen her self) that he would make no accord with the French at the Treaty of Cambray, without the restoration of Calais to the English: But when he understood how far the Queen had proceeded in point of Reformation, how she had as resolutely refus'd to be the Popes Daughter, as to be his Wife, how she had disallow'd the Councel of Trent, and set up a Synod of her own at London, he not only left her as slightly as she left him, but made such a Conclusion with the French, as gave her more cause of Jealousie, being not his Wife, then she could possibly have had if he had been her Husband. For marrying the Lady Isabella, eldest Daugh­ter to that King, it was suspected that the two Crowns might thereupon unite against England, upon the account of the Queen of Scots her Claim; who being the Daulphins Wife, and the next in Succession after Queen E­lizabeth, or (as some will have it) in Right before her, as being the un­doubted Heir of the Lady Margaret, eldest Daughter of Henry the Se­venth, was therefore the only Person in the World to whom she could ne­ver be reconciled: holding her self oblig'd by the Impulse of Nature, Honour, and Religion, to oppose her (as after she did) to the death, where­in perhaps there was no less of Envy then Reason of State, being as much offended with her Perfections, as her Pretensions: For that t'other was a Lady that equall'd her in all, surmounted her in some, and was inferiour to her in no respects but Fortune only. This as it prov'd a Feud that puzled that Age to unriddle the meaning of it, charging all the Misunder­standing betwixt them, upon the despite of Fate only (which to speak Im­partially, was never more unkind, not to say unjust, all Circumstances of the Story considered, to any Soveraign Princess in the World, then to that poor Queen) so it was the wonder of this, till we saw by the no less fa­tal Example of that Queens Grandson, our late Soveraign, how the best of Princes may fall under the power of the worst of men: For it was Flat­tery and Feminine Disdain questionless that first divided them beyond what the difference of Nation, Interest, or Religion could have done, which heightning their mutual Jealousies insensibly, ingag'd them before they were aware, in such a Game of Wit and Faction, as brought all that either had at last to stake, and made them so wary in their Play on both sides, that the Set ended not as long as the one liv'd, or the other reign'd.

The Queen of Scots had the advantage of Queen Elizabeth by the Kings in her Stock, the Kings of France and Spain being her secret Friends and Well-wishers; not to mention the nearer Obligations of her own Son, be­ing then but young; and the Pope ever ready to pack the Cards for her as occasion served. The advantage Queen Elizabeth had, was by the Knaves in her hand, all the factious Demagogues of Scotland being at her Devotion, and so dependant on her Power, that their disloyalty stood her in better stead than the Loyalty of her own Subjects, whereof she made so good use, that her over-match't Rival being never able to fix their Obedi­ence, much less recover their Affections, was fain to seek for help abroad. And after she became a Prisoner, finding none she could trust, was forc'd to attempt her Freedom singly, proceeding therein, for want of due intel­ligence, by such indirect wayes and means, as prov'd very unprosperous; for the more she stirr'd the more she intangled herself, fastning the Bonds beyond all possibility of being shaken off again, which (had she sate still) might possibly have loosed of themselves. Neither could it prove [Page 316] otherwise, whiles she was neither able to take right measures of her Adver­saries strength, nor of her own weakness; Queen Elizabeth having more Subjects then she knew of, for she had got the Ascendant of her Neighbours so far, that like her Father Henry, where she made not Kings, she gave them Laws. The Protestants, 'tis true, the only useful Party to her, were few in comparison of the Papists, who were all inc ined to the other side. But the Security of Princes rests not so much in the number, as in the affecti­ons of their People of whom, whilst by extraordinary methods of Love, she testified her self to have so great a care, they made to her as extraordinary Returns of Loyalty: witness that voluntary Association (as 'twas call'd) which the Protestants so solemnly enter'd into, as soon as they found her imbarrased by the Queen of Scots Faction, binding themselves with mu­tual Oaths and Subscriptions to each other, to prosecute all those to death, who should attempt any thing against the Queens life. This was it gave her that high repute, without which she could not have given that protecti­on she did to those of other Countries, who afterward applyed themselves to her as the only Defender of the Faith: for though it were no more then what they were before bound to do by their Oath of Allegiance, yet being a voluntary Recognition resulting out of the Sense they had of their own in her danger, it made such a noise in all Christendom, that all those who chose rather to change their Country then their Religion, cast themselves at her feet, and where they could not come to her, she sent to them: wit­ness the aid she gave to the persecuted Protestants of France, when they were overwhelmed by the unholy Confederates of the Holy League (that had set up a Priest to make way for a Cardinal, by the Murther of a King, and by the Murther of many Thousands more, afterward made may to set up themselves) to whom, as she sent no ordinary supply of Men, so she gave so extraordinary a supply of Money, that Henry the Fourth himself was pleas'd to acknowledge, he never saw so much Gold together at any one time in his whole life before. More notable yet was that aid given to the distrested Protestants of the Netherlands, when Duke D'Alva falling on them with like Fury as Vespatian upon the Jews, put them in as great a fear of being drown'd in a deluge of Blood, as they were but a little be­fore of being overwhelm'd by that of Water; who, when their Courage was sunk as low as their hopes, and that lay as low as their Country, for she put them into a Condition not only to defend their own Liberty, but to assert her Soveraignty, their gratitude prompting them to swear Alle­giance to her, for that she had (as they said) an indubitable Title to those Provinces by Philippa, Wife of Edward the Third, who was one of the Daughters and Coheirs of Earl William the Third of Holland, a right pre­cedent (as they alledged) to that of the King of Spain: But whether it were so that she rather approved the change of their Principles then of their Prince, or would have the World believe she rather favour'd their Re­ligion then their Rebellion; or judg'd it would be hard to make good what was so ill got, or was unwilling to do any thing that might give King Philip cause to question her Gratitude, no less then her Justice, or what other mo­tives moderated her Ambition is not known: but so it was, that she laid aside for the present the consideration of her own Right, and to shew she sincerely intended that Self-denyal, she assisted the Spaniard with men at the same time she supplyed the Dutch with Money, thereby giving those cause to extoll her Generosity, whiles these magnified her Bounty; both alike desiring her Friendship, and admiring her Wisdom, whiles the one could not tell how she affected Peace, nor t'other how far she inclined to War.

Thus she preserv'd her self by Arts as well as by Arms, which was the less easie for her to do, in respect of the many cross Designs that were then on foot in France, Spain, Germany, and Italy, in each of which she was deeply concern'd; not to say in Scotland, which being on the same Conti­nent, was under her Eye, as their Queen under her keeping. But the King of Spain finding that whatever was pretended overtly, she did under­hand abet the Rebels of the Netherlands, he set his thoughts upon support­ing the Rebels of Ireland; which how much she dreaded, appears by her ready acceptance of that seign'd Submission of the Earl of Tyrone, the first that gave her trouble, and the last that repented him of it: But before he made any Rupture upon her, there happen'd a lucky hit, which contri­buted much to defraying the Charge she foresaw she must be at, whenever he broke the Peace made with her. A mighty Mass of Money, which King Philip had taken up from the Genoveses, and other Italian Merchants, to be sent by Sea to the Duke D'Alva, for carrying on that War of the Low-Countries, was drove into one of her Ports by a French Man of War, which she seizing to her own use, and justifying her self by necessity of State (the only reason for all unreasonable actions) thought it enough to give the Proprietors Security for the Principal, without any consideration of Interest. This so incens'd D'Alva, that he forthwith laid an Imbargo upon all the English Merchants in the Low-Countries: She to requite that, did the like upon the Dutch Merchants here, upon which Letters of Mart were granted on both sides, and so that War began which she liv'd not to see and end of: For the King of Spain (as is said before) knowing the Irish to be naturally inclined to break out with the Itch of Rebellion, resolv'd to inflame their Blood with the hopes of a new Change, combining with Gregory the Thirteenth to reassume the Country into his hands, as one of the Kingdoms reputed parcel of St. Peter's Patrimony, and held of the Church (as he alledged) by the Kings of England, upon no other Conditi­on but that of Fealty to the See of Rome, and therefore Forfeited by the Heresie of the Queen. His Holiness, who has been ever very captious of all Advantages of this kind, was easily prevail'd with to bestow it upon his Natural Son the Marquiss of Vincula; to whom one Stukely an English­man, being therefore dignified with the Title of Marquiss of Lempster, and Earl of Wexford, was appointed General, having Eight hundred Italians under his Command: Before whom was sent as a Vant-Currier, one Fitz-Morris, with a Consecrated Banner, two Priests, and three Ships. These dull Rebels were to joyn with those more active ones, the Earl of Desmond and his Brothers, and were to take Livery and Seisin till the rest could come upon the Place. But as was the Cause so was the Success: and sitter it was that he should meet with a Cross then a Crown, that being but Christs Vicar, should be so ambitious of having a Kingdom in this World, when his Lord had none for himself. Stukely ended his life before he be­gan his Rebellion; Fitz-Morris was betray'd by his Fellow-Traytors be­fore his own Treachery could take any effect: San Joseph that succeeded him (one that was half Jew and half Italian) was glad to secure his own with the loss of all their Lives that were under him, whiles Desmond the Great Rebel was forc'd to yield to lower Conditions then any of them; and the two Priests that attended the holy Banner were starved upon the Moun­tains.

But after these there started up yet several others; as the Mac Williams, since call'd the Burks, the Mac Connels in Connaught, the Mac Mahons and O Rorks in Monagan, the O Connors and O Mulloys in Ophaly, and some [Page 318] of the O Brians and Cavenaghs in Lempster, who did what they could to raise Tumults, but so faintly, that we may rather call them Riots, then Re­bellions, signifying no more to her, than the bitings of Fleas to a Lion. However, doubting how she might be pestred with more such Vermine in the heat of the Summer following, she took timely care to prevent the worst: and having Intelligence given her that they intended to dispute her Soveraignty at Sea, as they had done her Right by Land, she muster'd up all her Naval Forces, determining to carry the War as far from home as possibly she could. These were commanded by the famous Drake, who re­solving to fight them in the other World, as well as in this, advanced to the place where 'twas said the Golden Apples grew, where finding no Dra­gon to keep them, so fierce as himself, he made himself Master of as much Treasure as might have been a sufficient Found for a greater Empire then that he fought for, had either his Covetousness held any proportion with his Courage, or his Ambition with his Activity; for he brought home, be­sides what was imbezled and conceal'd, above two thousand pound weight of uncoyn'd Silver, and twelve Chests of ready coyn'd, and no less then five hundred pound weight of Gold, besides Jewels of an inestimable va­lue, having several Carcanets of Diamonds, Rubies, Topazes, Saphires, and Emeralds of an incredible Magnitude, issued Silks, and other rich Com­modities of the growth and manufacture of the Country, being thought not worth the Portage. This added no less to the Fame, then to the Wealth of this great Queen, who being before compar'd to Solomon for her Wisdom, seem'd now not unlike him for her Opulence. But not content with this single income of Glory, she commanded her Fortunate Admiral back again the second time, to brave them at Land as before at Sea; where, after ha­ving taken St. Jago, St. Domingo, and Cartagena, three of the most conside­rable Towns they had, he return'd even surfeited with Victory, his Head being as giddy with new Contrivances, as his mens were with the Calen­ture, who, in the midst of all their Abundance, wanting health only, were forc'd to take leave of the place, being troubled that they could bring home no greater a booty, then what was esteem'd at One hundred thousand pounds Sterling, and Two hundred and forty pieces of brass Cannon to report their Victory.

But because this look'd like wounding that King in the hinder parts only, she was not satisfied till she gave him one blow in the Face: and accordingly sent to defie him before his own Doors, entring his chief Port of Cales, in which they took and fired no less then One hundred Ships; and furnishing themselves with great store of Ammunition and Victuals, made for the Cape of St. Vincent, where having demolish'd the Forts, they pass'd on to the Assores, under the great Meridian, where they took a great Carack return­ing from the East-Indies, which having the name of St. Philip, it was by the Superstitious Seamen, look'd on as an ominous Presage of the Future ill For­tune of their King Philip by Sea. Whilst Drake was thus active to the South­ward, Candish was no less busie to the Westward, who having destroy'd se­veral Colonies in Chily, Peru, and Nova Hispania, return'd home Laden with the Spoils of Nineteen rich Ships taken in his way.

And now King Philip provok'd no less by the shame, then the continued loss he had sustain'd for above two years together, with redoubled diligence and charge got ready a mighty Fleet, hoping to perform some wonders sui­table to the Expectation of the Time, as well as of the Importance of the Affair, it being by Astronomers call'd The wonderful Year, and being the great Clymacterich of the World, they concluded it must produce some [Page 319] extraordinary Effects. Neither indeed was there any thing then in the World so extraordinary and amazing as the sight of that moving Wood of his, con­sisting of no less then One hundred and fifty tall Ships, which carri'd in them besides all Habiliments of War, Twenty thousand men, and expected Fifty thousand more to be joyn'd with them, that the Duke of Parma was to bring out of Flanders: all which were to be Landed in the Thames mouth, that so by seizing on the Head, they might the more easily command every Member of the whole Body of the Kingdom.

Well may we imagine that the report of such a Preparation as this (the work of no less then three years time) was heard further then the noise of their Cannon could (though 'tis incredible how far they were heard;) and one would have thought the Sound of that terrible Name they gave their Fleet, El Invincible Armado, might have been sufficient to have made an uni­versal Earth-quake throughout Christendom: But it seems the Adamantine hearts of the Neighbour Princes were so impenetrable, that it did not much move them; for being satisfied in the Counterpoise of the Queens Power, they stood at Gaze seemingly unconcern'd. The Queen had prepar'd a double Guard, one for the Land, t'other for the Sea: that by Land was di­vided into two Armies, the one consisting of Two and twenty thousand Foot, and One thousand Horse, commanded by the Earl of Leicester, whose Post was at Tilbury: The other consisting of Four and twenty thousand Foot, and Two thousand Horse, which were the Guard of her Person, were Com­manded by the Lord Hunsden; the Sea-ports being Garrison'd with Twen­ty thousand old Souldiers, who were seconded by the Train'd Bands in the respective Counties where they lay. The Guard by Sea consisted of One hundred and forty Ships, divided into three Squadrons: The two first con­sisting of Fifty, each under the Lord Howard the Admiral, and Sir Francis Drake the Vice-Admiral, waited the coming of the Enemy in Plymouth Road: The last Squadron of Forty, Commanded by the Rere-Admiral the Lord Henry Seymour, second Son to the Duke of Somerset, rode between Dunkirk and Callais, to prevent any Conjunction with the Prince of Parma. With this great Body she design'd to shew the World her Grandeur, but when she meant to shew her Power, she made use but of Fifteen of them.

Now as it happens oftentimes, that great Calmes precede great Storms, so the Catholick King hoping to out-wit the Heretick Queen, a little before his great Fleet was ready to come forth, dissembling a passionate desire of Peace, press'd hard for a Treaty; but whilst he thought to deceive her, he was deceiv'd by her: For she, to return the trick upon him, consented to the Proposal, and by the sending her Commissioners to Ostend, so possess'd him of the suppos'd Advantage he had gotten by it, that it's thought it made him appear a little sooner then he would; for before they could enter into the business, he was entred into the British Seas, and was no less shock'd when he found her in readiness, then he expected she should have been if he had taken her unawares. This made them resolve rather to make a Chase fight, then lye by't, though they had the advantage of the Wind, their ho­nour being preserv'd till they came to Callais, for that it was suppos'd all the haste they made away, tended only to the Conjunction with the Prince of Parma; but after they cut their Cables (having not the Courage to stay to weigh Anchor) and made all the Sail they could to fly from only eight Fire-ships, it then plainly appear'd they neither understood their own Strength nor hers. But these Ships being the first of that kind that ever were seen, we may allow them to be The Wonder that gave Name to that wonderful Year.

In this great Conflict were lost more then half of the Spanish Fleet, of the English only one Ship, and that of no great Consideration: so that 'twas believ'd, having sounded the danger of our Dark Seas, passing round by the North, they had taken their final Leave of England. However, the Queen was resolv'd not to leave them so, but after much mischief done them by several Privateers, whom she permitted to go forth upon their own Charge, she resolv'd to become her self the Aggressor, and repay to him the great dishonour of his Invasion; it being an Indignity not to be forgi­ven by Princes, because it cannot be forgotten by their People, who can never be discharg'd from the Fears they have of him who has once set upon them, till there be some Confront given, that may assure them their own Prince is not so weak, as the Enemy, by seeking him out, would have the World believe.

The Fleet she set forth consisted of One hundred and fifty Sail, yet was not call'd the Invincible, though it prov'd so, being commanded by the Earl of Essex, as General at Land, and the Lord Howard, as General at Sea, who setting upon Cales the second time, took it, and in it, all the Wealth that may be imagin'd to be lodg'd in such a Store-house as that is; and after having burn'd all the Ships they found there (for which they were offer'd Two Millions of Ducats if they would spare them) they spoil'd the whole Island, and demolish'd all the Forts, and did, as 'tis thought, as much Damage as a­mounted to Twenty Millions of Ducats more: To requite which, the King of Spain rigg'd up another Navy, and mann'd it with Irish Runnagado's, but either their Skill or their Courage failed them, at least the Winds did not so favour them, but that the Expedition came to nought.

And now when all the Storms at Sea seem'd to have been blown over and past, there rose a Cloud at Land which gave the Queen greater apprehen­sions of danger then ever she had before. The French King, who was joyn'd with her in a League Offensive and Defensive against Spain, and had reap'd this good Effect by it, to recover Amiens, which the Spaniard had sur­priz'd by the help of the English only, yeilding to the Importunities of the Pope and his own People, made his Peace without her, who quitting his Re­ligion at the same time he quit her Friendship, 'twas believ'd they would all joyn to set upon her at once. Hereupon there were great Debates in Councel upon the point of her closing with the Spaniard, who seem'd much to desire a Peace. Essex, the great Idol of the Sword-men, was for continuing the War; Burleigh, who was the great Patron of the Pen-men, was for the Peace. And it seems they argued the matter so warmly, that being scarce able to keep Peace amongst themselves, 'twas not likely they should obtain it a­broad: For Essex could not forbear unseemly Reflections upon the old man, nor he from retorting them back as sharply, who 'tis said (being more witty in his Anger) call'd for a Bible at the Table, and shewing him that Verse in the Psalms, where 'tis said The bloody minded man shall not live out half his dayes, gave him grave warning by an ominous Presage of that which follow'd (for we know how shortly after he swell'd and burst.) However the Queen mov'd with like Zeal to Religion, as Essex was with hatred to the Spaniard, inclin'd to his Opinion; whereupon Cecil submitted to her Judgment, but pray'd to have the Question put first to the States of Hol­land her Confederates, Whether they would agree to her making Peace: and knowing it to be against their Interest so to do, he took the Advantage of their Refusal to demand an aid towards the carrying on of the War; out of whom, by that trick of State, he did her this good Service against her will, to screw Eight hundred thousand pounds, which being to be paid [Page 321] by Thirty thousand pounds yearly, for which the Queen had Cautionary Towns given as a Security, it look'd so like a Tribute, that after their having offer'd her the Soveraignty (as they did) 'tis hard to prove it was not so.

And now casting up the Accompt betwixt her and the Spaniard, who was her greatest, and not to say her only Enemy (for the Pope, however he bore no less hatred to her, yet being at that distance as he was, he could not come to close grapple with her, and as his quarrel was chiefly Spiritual, so his Machinations were for the most part invisible, proceeding by secret under-hand Instigations of such Persons, as having not credit enough for raising War, had recourse only to such Clancular Contrivances and darker Treasons, which she easily enervated by the Spell of that Politick Motto of hers, VIDEO & TACEO, which she took up by the Example of her sage Grandfather Henry the Seventh, who though he was very wise, affected to seem wiser than he was, by pretending to more intelligence then really he had, whereby as he, so she left that impression upon their Guilt who hated her, that many of them durst not attempt the betraying her, for fear of being be­tray'd themselves, and perhaps by themselves; as was that unfortunate Vil­lain Squire, one of the Grooms of her Stable, who being tempted by an English Jesuite in Spain, to poyson the Pommel of her Saddle, was by the Tempter himself, when he found it took not effect, discover'd and accus'd, and confessing the Fact, executed for it) casting up the Accompt betwixt her and the Spaniard, it doth appear at the lowest rate set upon his Dama­ges in contesting with her, that she consum'd him no less then Five hundred Millions of Ducats, besides what he suffer'd by the Revolt of the United Provinces, which he had unquestionably reduc'd, had not she interpos'd with her Power to protect them, for which they paid her well at last. The only Requital he made her was by upholding the Irish Rebellion, which cost her not half the money she had of their Hogen-mogen-ships: for how­ever she was induc'd to send over a greater Army then ever Ireland had seen before, when Oneil seiz'd the Fort of Blackwater, and took his first and last Revenge upon the English there, to wit, Twenty thousand Foot, and One thousand three hundred Horse to reinforce the Governours there, after the Landing of the Spaniards under Don Aquila, yet she had a suitable Re­turn in opening several Passages, till then altogether unknown to the Eng­lish, whereby she found out convenient Scituations for several Colonies, that have since Cultivated many thousands of (before unprofitable) Acres, and made Seats fit for men to dwell in, which till then were the Receptacles of Beasts only, or Men more Savage then they. So that what her great Enemy took from her Peace, he added to her Glory, who in despight of the Love and Hate of all those great Princes that courted or contemn'd her, dyed a Virgin and Unconquer'd; having this happiness by coming to the Crown so close after the Reign of her busling Father, to be serv'd by a race of choice Men, that having given him sufficient proof of their Loyalty, made them­selves yet more valuable to her by their Experience, having by the Gravity and Grandeur of some of them, and by the Courage and Conduct of others, so well setled the Foundations of Government, that notwithstanding five se­veral Changes in Religion, and the Interposition of a Woman, a Stranger, and a Child, they deliver'd up the Scepter to her in Peace, and standing round the Throne, with like Constancy defended her, as she defended their Faith, which as it was not without great difficulty, so perhaps it had not been without an impossibility of Success, had she not strengthen'd the Re­putation of their Authority by the Authority of her own Example.