THe saying is not so old as true, He that refuseth to buy counsell cheape, shall buy Repentance deare, neither let any mock a man in his mi­sery, but rather beware by him, how to avoid the like misfortune. If thou intend to doe any good, deferr it not till the next day; for thou knowest not what may happen over night to pre­vent thee: Behold thy selfe in a Looking-glasse, if thou appearest beautifull, doe such things as may [Page] become thy beauty; but if thou seem foule, or deformed, let the actions of thy life make good that splendor which thy face lacketh. Tell not thy minde to every man, make thy selfe indebted to no man; bee friend to few men, be courteous to all men: let thy Wit be thy friend, thy Minde thy companion, thy Tongue thy ser­vant: Let Uertue be thy Life, Valour thy Love, Honour thy Fame, and Heaven thy Felicity: These (Rea­der) be good decuments for thee to follow, and I am now to present thee with a worthy President to imi­tate: observe his beginning, forget not the middle passage of his life, and thou wilt, no question, crowne his end. Hee that made all things of no­thing, can of a little make much, and multiply a Mite unto a Magazin, as will easily appeare by the succeed

[Page] This Richard Whitington was so obscurely bred, that hee could scarcely give account of his Parents, or kindred; and being almost star­ved in the Countrey, necessity com­pelled him up to London, hoping to finde more charity in the City than Country: To begge he was ashamed, to steale he did abhorre: two dayes he spent in gaping upon the shops, and gazing upon the buildings; feeding his eyes, but starving his stomack. At length meere faintnesse compell'd him to rest himselfe upon a bench before a Merchants gate, where he not long sate, but the owner of the house having occasion of businesse into the Towne, finding him a poore simple fellow, and thinking that he had no more within than appeared without, he demanded of him why he loytred there, and being able to worke for his living, did not apply himselfe unto some lawfull cal­ling, [Page] threatning him at the first with the Stocks, and Whipping-post: but the poore man after the making of some plaine leggs, and courtesie, desi­red him to pardon him, and told him, that he was a dejected man, who desi­red any imployment, and that no paines, how meane or course soever, could seeme tedious or burthensome unto him, so he might but finde some good Master, by whose charity hee might releeve his present necessity: for his greatest ambition was, but to keepe his body from nakednesse, and his stomack from hunger; and told him withall how long it was since hee had tasted meate or drinke.

The worthy Merchant seeing him of a personable body, and an ingeni­ous aspect, howsoever both were clouded under a rustick habit, be­gan somewhat to commiserate his e­state, and knocking for a servant, bade [Page] him take in that fellow, and give him such victuals as the house for the pre­sent afforded, and at his returne hee would have further conference with him. The servant did as hee was commanded, and tooke him in.

The Merchant went to the Ex­change, which was then in Lumber­street, about his affaires: In which interim poore Whittington was had into the Kitchin to warme himselfe; for faintnesse, by reason of hunger and cold, (for it was then in the win­ter time) had quite rob'd him of his colour Meate was set before him in plenty, and being dred in the Coun­try, as the Proverbe goeth, hee fed like a Farmer; and having sated himselfe sufficiently, and warmed him to the ful, a teeth colour began to come into his cheekes: At which time the Merchants Daughter, (hearing of a new-come guest, came into the Kitchin, [Page] and began to question him of divers things concerning the Countrey, to all which hee gave her such modest and sensible answers, that she tooke a greatliking unto him, and so left him.

Dinner time came, and Master Fitz­warren (for so was the Merchant cal­led) came home with a good stomacke, and brought a friend or two with him from the Exchange; downe they sate to meate, and had speech of many things at the Table, meane time the servants were set also to Dinner, who would needs have whitting on, though hee had so lately broke his fast to keep them company; some of them delight­ing in his Countrey speech, others de­ciding his supposed simplicity.

But to come to the purpose, the Table being with-drawn in the Par­lour, and the guests departed, & Ma­ster Fitzwarren and his Daughter left alone, shee being of a good and [Page] gentle disposition, began to commend [...]is charity concerning the poore man whom he had relieved that morning; to whom he answered, Godamercy Daughter, thou hast done wellto re­member me; such an one I sent indeed but have my servants done as I com­manded them? and where is he now? who answered him, that she had given order he should stay Dinner, and not depart the house till he himselfe had further spoken w ^tith him. At which they both went into the Hall, and cal­led the Fellow before them; who ap­peared unto them with such a bash­full humility, that it seemed to them both to begge a charity: Some lan­guage past betwixt them concerning him which gave them content: at length they bid him retire himselfe.

When the Father & the Daughter­had some private conference concer­ning him, she urged him to entertaine [Page] him into his house, and that there would be some employment for him either to runne, or goe of Errands, or else to doe some drudgery in the Kitchin, as in making of fires, scou­ring ketles, turning the spit, and the like: To whom the Father replyed, that indeed his worke might be worth his meat, but hee had no lodging to spare: She againe answered, there were Garrets in the house, that were put to no use at all, and in one of them he might be conveniently lodged, and put the house to no trouble at all.

Well, at length he was admitted, and made a member of the Family, in which he demeaned himselfe so well by his willingnesse, to runne, or goe, or to doe any service, how meane so­ever, that hee had got the goodwill of all the whole houshold, onely the Kitchin-maide being a curst queane, and knowing him to be an under-ser­vant [Page] to her, domineered over him and used him very coursely and rough­ly, of which he would n [...]ver com­plain, though he had cause enough.

The Garret in which he lay, by reason it had been long unfrequented, was troubled with Rats and Mice, in so much that he could not sleep in the night, but they ran over his face, and much disturbed him in his rest: To prevent which, having got a pen­ny, either for going of an Errand, or for making clean boots, or shooes, or the likes with that he bought a yong Cat which he kept in his Garret; and whatsoever he had from the re­version of the servants Table, he would be sure to reserve part for her, because he had found by experience, that she had rid him of the former in­conveniences.

The History tells us, that his Merchant, Master Hugh Fitzwar­ren [Page] was so generous, that he never adventured any Ship to Sea, but he would have his Danghter, his Cashier, and every one of his ser­vants, what, or whosoever, to put in something, and to adveuture with him; and according to that pro­portion which they could spare, every one received to a token at the return of the Ship.

His Daughter, she began, the rest followed, and the servants borrowed out of their wages, every one to doe according to their abilities. And when they all had done, Whitting­ton was remembered, and called for: and his Master telling him the cu­stome of his house, asked him what he ha dto hazard in this adventure: who replyed again, he was a poor man, and had nothing in the world, saving the cloaths upon his back; but for mony, he had none at all: [Page] then his Daughter drew to her purse, and told her Father, that for her ser­vant

Whittington, the would lay down whatsoever he would desire: who answered again, shat what she had spoke was nothing to the purposez for whatsoever was ventured in that kinde, must be out of ones proper [Page] goods and chattells: and again de­manded of him, if he had any thing which he could call his own to put to hazard, and charged him deeply con­cerning that point; who making some unnecessary leggs, told him, that he had nothing which he could call his, saving a Cat, which he had bought with his penny, which he could not spare, because she had done him so many good offices, and told them every circumstance before rela­ted: Which when the Merchant heard, he told him, that he should venture that commodity, and none elsez and charged him to fetch her in­stantly: for the Ship (which was called the Unicorn) was fallen down as low as Blackwall, and all their lading was already had aboard. Whittington, although unwilling to part from so good a connpanion, yet being forced upon his Masters [Page]

command, by whom he had his sub­sistance, he brought her, and (not without tears) delivered her to his Factor, who wss partly glad of her, by reason they were troubled with Mice and Rats in the Ship, which [Page] not only spoyled their victualls, but dammaged their wares, and commo­dities.

I must leave the Cat upon her voyage at Sea, and honest Whit­tington a land, who by that curst quean, the Kitchin-maid, was so beaten and abused, that he was as weary of his life, as of his service: for she, (usurping upon his plainnesse and modesty) would be quarrelling with him upon every small, or no oc­casion at all: sometimes bearing him with the Broom sometimes laying him over the shoulders with the La­dle, the Spit, or what came next to her hands, being of so dogged a dis­position, that she still continued her cruelty towards him, and therefore he resolved with himselfe to run a­way; and for that purpose, he had bundell'd up those few clothes which he had, and before day broke, was [Page]

got as far as Bun-hill, and there he sat him down, to consider with him­selfe what course he were best to take; where, by chance (it being Alhallows day) a merry peal from Bow-Church began to ring, and as he apprehended [Page] they were tun'd to this Ditty.

This tooke such a great impressi­on in him, that finding how early it was, and that hee might yet come backe to his Masters house before any of the Family were stirring, hee resolved to goe back, and found every thing according to his owne wishes, and desires; insomuch, that when the houshold were up, none could challenge him to have beene missing. And thus hee continued as before in his first plainnesse and honesty, well beloved of all, save the Kitching­drudge: I come now now to tell you what became of his adventure.

[Page] It so hapned, that this good Ship the Unicorne, was by contrary gusts and bad weather driven upon the ut­most coast of Barbary, where never any English man, (or scarse any Christian) had ever traded before: Where they shewed some of their commodities, and offered them to be bended. The Moores came down in multitudes, much taken with the beauty of their ship for they had never seen any of that building, or burden before: But when they had taken a serious view of their commodities, as Hatchets, Knives, Looking-glas­ses, Fish-hooke, &c. but especially their Cloth and Kersies of severall sizes and colours, they brought them Gold in abundance; for it was more plentifull with them then Leade, or Copper is with us.

Presently newes was carried to the King, who sent some of his chiefe [Page] Nobility to bring him some sorts of every commodity that was aboard: vohch when he saw, they pleased him highly, sending for the Master, and Merchants Factor to Court: He at their own rate bargained with them for their whole lading, nor would he suffer them to depart, till he had feasted them royally.

Now the fashion of the Moores, is not to sit at the Table, as the cu­stom is amongst us, but to have a rich Carpet spred upon the ground, and when the meat or banquet is served in, as well the King himselfe, as the rest, sit round about crosse legg'd, as Taylers commonly use to doe upon their Shop-boords, and in that manner our English were set at the Kings banquet: but the meat was no sooner served in, but swarms of Rats and Mite seized upon the dishes, and snatched away the meat even from the King and [Page] Qeens trenchers: At which the Factor being amazed, asked one of the Nobiti y ^e (by an Interpreter) if they preserved those verm ne for their sport, or if they were noy ome and troublesome unto them? who answered him again, that they were the greatest vexation unto them that could be profitable, and by reason of their multiudes they could not be destroyed: but the King would willingly give half the revenew of his Crown, if he could but onely clear the Court of them; for not only his Table, but his very Chamber swarmed with them, in so much, that he durst not lay him downe to rest withont a watch about him, to keepe them off from his pillow: To whom the Factor re­plyed, that they had a strange beast aboord, which he made no doubt, would rid them of those ver­mine: Which being oold the King, [Page] he tose from his place, and imbrating the Factor, told him, if be could shem him such a creature, he would ballest his vessell with Silver, and lade her with Gold and Pearl. Who ap­prehending the occaston, made very coy of the businesse, telling him, it was & creature of great value, and not common: besides, they could not spare her from their Sip, in regard, that when they were asleep, yet she was still waking in the night, not only to preserve their Merchandise but their Diet from the like spoyle. The more dainty that he made of the matter, the more earnest was the King for this Beast; in so much, that shee was presently sent for.

And a second Feast being pre­pared, and the Rats and Mice ap­pearing as they did before, the young Merchant having the Cat under his cloake, the King desired [Page] to see the thing which he had before so much commended: when presently

he discovered her, and cast her among them; she no sooner sam these ver­mine, but tell upon them with such a fury, that here lay one panting, [Page] there another [...]uite dead; nor left them till she had frighted and dis­perst the whole number; but such as [...]e, seized, their carkastes lay there as witnesses of their unexpected slaughter.

Great pleasure took the King and the Nobility in the sport, vowing that the hunting of the Lyon (of which there are plenty in that Country) was not answerable unto it, In the Interim one began to praise her for her colour, another com­mended her for her valour; one said she had the countenance of Ly­on, and every one gave his sentence. When the poor Cat finding no more work for her to do went round to the King and Queen, purling and curling, (as their manner is) which they apprehended to be, as if she inquired of them what shee had deserved for that la [...]e ser­vice.

[Page] To cut off circumstance, no price could part them, and the rather, when the Factor had told the King that she was with kittens, and that her brood would in some few years, being carefully lookt unto, furnish the whole Kingdome: so that Whittingtons Cats adventure only surmounted all the Ships lading be­sides; with which fortunate and unexpected gain we bring them safe into England: the Sip lying at An­chop neere Blackwall, and the Pilot and Cape-merchant, with some other Officers in the Ship, at Master Fitzwarrens house, which was by Leaden Hall, to give ac­compt of their voyage. But these Caskets of Iewells and Pearls, with other unvalued Riches which were given for the Cat, they caused to be brought along, not daring by reason of their inestimable value, to trust them in the Sip. The Bills of [Page] lading, and the benefit of the return of the commodities being viewed, and considered of by the owner, he [...] praised God for so prosperous a voyage and called al [...] his servants, and gave order that according to their adventures, every one should receive his portion.

At length casting his eye upon those rich Caskets and Cabinets, asked to whose share they belonged? who whispered him in the ear, and told him, to his poor Whitington, relating every particular as is before discoursed. To whom Master Fitz­warren replyed, If they then be his, God forbid I should keep from him the least farthing that is his right, and presently commanded Whittington to be sent for by the name of Mr. Whittington.

The servants not knowing any thing of the bussnesse, went unto him into the kitchen, where he was then [Page] rubbing the spits, scouring the kettles and making clean the dressers, and told him, he must come to his Master presently into the Parlour: The poor man excused himself, that his shooes were durty, and the room was rubb'd, and if he should but touch any thing there, he should spoyle and deface those things in the room: But still the Master of the house called for Master Whittington, sending one servant after another, till he was brought before him; and having scraped some few legges, instantly his Master took him by the hand, and called for a chair for Master Whittington: his Daughter, the Pilot, and the Factor, every one of them saluted him by the name of Mr. Whittington, and forced him to sit down: He wondring what this should mean, desired them not to mock a poor simple man, who meant [Page] none any harm, &c. and wept (the tears dropping from his eyes) desi­ring them not to deride his poverty; for his ambition was never to come so high, as from the Kitchen to the Hall, much more from the Hall into the Parlour.

Then came his Master to him se­riously, and said, Indeed Mr. Whit­tington we are all in good earnest, for you are at this tune a better man than my self in estate; and then she w­ed him all those Cabinets and Cask­ets, and how richly they were lined. When hee perceived by all their ear­nest asseverations that all was true, he first fell down upon his knees, and gave God most hearty thanks, who out of his great bounty would vouchsafe to cast an eye upon so poor and wretched a creature as himself: Then turning to his Master, he presented all his Riches before [Page] him, and told him, that all he had was at his disposing and service: who answered him again, that for his own part, God had lent him sufficient of his own; neither would he take from him the value of one Barbary Ducket. He came next, and with a low legge saluted his Mistriss, and told her, that when shee pleased to make choice of an hus­band, he would make her the richest Marriage in; London, because she was so willing, out of her own purse, when he was altogether pen­nilesse) to lay out for his adventure. To the Pilot, and Master, and every officer or common Sayler, he gave liberally according to their degrees e­ven to the ship-boy; and then to e­very servant of the house, nay, to the very kitchen wenth, who was so churlish unto him, and had so often basted him in the stead of her roast [Page] meat, haviug caused her to be called unto him, he gave her an hundred pound towards her marriage.

This being done, Taylers were sent for, Sempsters and the like, to put him into Clothes, and linnen of the best; who were to accommodate him with all speed possible: and his lodging in the Garret was chang'd into the best Chamber of the house. And when the Barber had been with him, and the rest, to make him com­pleat in his habite, there was a strange and suddain Metamorphosis; for out of a smoaky and dirty Kitch­in-drudge, there appeared a proper and well proportioned man, and a gentile Merchant: in so much, that his young Mistrisse began to cast a more amorous eye upon him than before, which not a little pleased Master Fitzwarren, her Father, who intended a match betwixt them.

[Page] The brute of this great adventure was presently noysed through the whole City, in so much that his Master intreated his late servant to walk with him into the Exchange, to see the fashion of the Merchants, which he did; where all of them came about him, and saluted him; some bid God give him joy of his fortune, others desired of him better and fur­ther acquaintance, and every one as his severall fancy led him: Some commended him for his person, o­thers for his modest answers, and discreet carriage: Indeed, Wealth is able to make all these good where they are most wanting, which was not in him, as appeares by the se­quell.

Within few weekes the match was propounded betwixt Master Whittington and Mistrisse Alice, [Page] and willingly entertained on both parties, and not without great cost; with the invitation of the Lord

Maior, and the Aldermen, very no­bly celebrated, and the Bridegroome [Page] by this means had got acquaintance with the best.

After this, the Father in law de manded of his Son what course hee purposed to take? (his freedom being offered him, and accepted of) who made answer again, that suice God had so blest him in his small adven­ture, he would not leave it off so, but prove his goodnesse in a greater, and that his purpose was to turne Merchant: which reply gave him no small content, in regard he knew the best amongst them would be glad to have the society of so hopefull a Citi­zen: which he continued, adventuring in divers bottoms with his Father, and had very happy and prosperous, returnes,

The time when he was prickt for Sheriffe, which he modestly refused, as unable to undertake so great a charge, and would willingly have [Page] pay'd his Fine, which his Father in law would not suffer: at whose per­swasion hee took the place upon him, in which he so welll behaved himselfe in the management of all affairs be­longing to his Office, that hee not only left it without the least taxation, but with a generall love and appro­vation, in so much that the univer­sall eye of the whole City was fixt on him, in an hopefull expectation what a profitable member of that united body he might futurely prove. And this happened in the year of our Lord 1393. Sir Iohn Hardley Gro­cer being Maior, and Drewry Ba­rentine his fellow Sherffe; of the truth of which, Master Fabian in his Chronicle, and Master Iohn Stow in his Survey of London can fully sarisfie you.

An the year 1397, and the one and twentieth of the same Kings reigne, [Page] Sir Richard Whittington was Lord Maior of London, Iohn

Woodcock and William Askam be­ing Sheriffes; and hee held the place with great reputation and honour. In which time of his Majoralty [Page] there was much discontent in the Kingdom, by reason of many diffe­rences betwixt the King and the Commons; the circumstances where­of were here too long to relate; onely one thing is worthy of observation, that whether by his adventures, or no, may it be questioned, bringing in yearly such store of Gold, Sikes, Sattens, Velvets, Damasks, Stones, and Iewells, &c. into the Kingdom, might be the cause of that great pride and rioting in apparell which was used in those daies? But as Harding Fabian, and others have left to memory, in that year of his Majorality, and after, there resorted to the Kings Court at their pleasures dayly, at the least ten thousand per­sons: In his Kitchin were three hundred servitors, and in every of­fice according to that rate. Moreover, of Ladies Chambers and Lawn­dresse [Page] above three hundred, and they all exceeded in gorgeous and costly apparell farre above their degrees: for even the Yeomen and Grooms were clothed in Silks and Velvets, Damasks and the like; with Imbroydery, rich Furrs, and Gold­smiths work, devising every day strange and new fashions.

And in this year also, about the Feast of St. Bartholmew, grew a great discord betwixt the Duke of Hereford, and Mowbrey Duke of Norfolk, the beginning thereof be­ing as followeth. The two Dukes riding from the Parliament towards their lodgings, the Duke of Norfolk said to the other, Sir, you see how variable the King is in his words, and (reflecting upon what had past) how without mercy he putteth his Lords and Kinsfolks to death, im­prisoning some, and exiling others: [Page] There it hehooveth us not too much to trust to his fair and smooth lan­guage, for doubtlesse in time he will bring even to us the like death and destruction. Of which words he ac­cused him to the King, which the o­ther denying, it was to be tryed by combate: the Lists were appoin­ted, and the day of meeting, the eleventh day of September; to which place, and on the day assign­ed came hoth the Dukes, and bravely accoutred, appeared before the King, ready to enter into battail; where the King threw down his Warder, and staying the combate, banished the Duke of Hereford for ten years, but the Duke of Norfolk for ever; who travelling many Countries, at the last came to Venice, and there en­ded his life.

Again, in the year 14 [...]6. and in the eighth of Henry the fourth, Sir [Page] Richard Whittington was the se­cond time Lord Maior, Nicholas Worton and Geffrey Brook being Sheriffs. Again, in the year 1409. being the seven [...]h year of Henry 5. he supplyed the Pretorship, Robert Whittington (his neere Kinsman) Iohn Butler being Sheriffs: and which is more remarkable of him than of any other, that either prec­ded him in that place of Honour, he was once Sheriffe, and three times Lord Maior of this famous and honourable City in three seve­rall Kngs reigns.

Now, to cut off all circumstances, and come close to the matter, we may easily find what this man was, by the pious and religious acts done in his life to the Cities present grace, use, and benefit, and to his own blessed memory for ever.

[Page] In the Vintry Ward he built a Church, and dedicated it to Saint Michael, calling it Pater noster in the

Royal, and added to it a Colledge, founded to Saint Mary; and placed [Page] herein a Prestdent and four Fellows which ought to he Masters of Arts; besides other yearly allowance to Clerks and young Shollers: neare which he everted an Hospitall, which he called Gods House, for thirteene poor men; and these, according to the devout superstition of those daies, were to pray for the soules of his Father in law Hugh Fitzwarren, and Dame Molde his wife, for whom he erected a fair Tombe in the Church he before built, leaving also a place for himself, and Dame Alice his Lady, when it should please God to call them: In which place they were afterwards both of them, according to their de­gree very honourably interred, great mourning and much lamentation be­ing made for him by the commons of the City, in regard he was a man so remarkable for his charity.

[Page] He builded another brave structur [...] which he called after his own name

Whittington Colledge, with a per­petuall allowance for Divinity Lectures to be made there for ever; [Page] leaving good land for the mainte­nance thereof.

And on the west side of the City he built that famous gate and prison, to this day call'd Newgate, and there­upon caused the Merchants arms to be graven in stone. He added to St. Bartholmews Hospitall in Smith­field, and was at the charge of repai­ring thereof.

Further, at the Gray-Fryars in Lon­don he erected a Library, as a testi­mony of the great love he had to learning, which he began in the year of our Lord 1421. and finished it in the year following. Moreover, that place which is call'd the Stocks to this day, betwixt Cheapside and Cornhill, a gooly house of stone, which serveth for a flesh-market, and a fi [...]h-market, greatly beneficiall to the City.

Besides, he enlarged Guildhall, [Page] and glazed most, or all of the windows at his own cost and charges, paving the Hall, and contributing largely to the Library, adding to the se Basses Conduit, which yeeldeth store of sweet and wholsom water, to the generall good and benefi of the City.

In the year 1397. when Sir Richard Whittington was first e­lected Lord Maior, that Rebell Sir John Oldcastle was taken, in the Territories of the Lord Powesse, not without danger and hurt of some that took him: At which time all the States of the Realm were assembled in Parliament at London, therein to provide the King of a Subsidy, and other aid of money and munition, who took great pains beyond the Seas, in France: these Lords and others, when they heard that the publick enemy was taken, they a­greed [Page] all not to dissolve the Parlia­ment, untill he were examined, and heard to answer in the same: where­upon the Lord Powesse was sent for, to fetch him up with power and great aid, who brought him to Lon­don in a Litter, wounded very much, having received seventeen wounds; and also a Clerk which he called his Secretary, with him, tha twas of of his counsell in all his secrets. As soon as the aforesain Sir John Oldcastle was brought into the Parliament before the Earl of Bedford, who then was left Regent, and governour of the Realm in the time of the Kings absence, being in France, and other Lords and States: His Indite­ment was read before him, of his forcible insurrection against the King and State in Saint Gyles Fields, and other treasons and outrages by him committed, the question was [Page] asked, how he would excuse himself, and shew why he should not be judg­ed to dye according to the Law: But he seeking other talk, began to talk & discourse of the mercies of God, & that all mortall men, that would be follow­ers of God, ought to preferre mercy a­bove Judgement, and that venge­ance pertained only to the Lord, and ought not to be practised by them that worship, but to be left to God a­lone: with many other words to de­tract the time, untill the Lord chief Justice admonished the Regent, not to suffer him to spend the time so vainly, in molesting of the Nobles of the Realm: whereupon the Duke of Bedford, Regent, commanded him to answer formally and punctually to the matter laid to his charge.

The said Sr. Iohn being thus urged, at last after deliberation taken, hee said, it is the le ast thing that I ac­count [Page] of, to he iudged by you, as of mans judgement; and again, he be­gan to talk, but nothing to the pur­pose, untill the chiefe Justice com­manded him again to answer finally and to answer them if he could, why he should not suffer death according to his desert: To which he stoutly answered, that he had no Judge a­mongst them, so long as his Leige, Lord King Richard was alive, and in his Realm of Scotland; which an­swer when he had made, because there needed no further witnesse, hee he was there presently censured to be drawn, and hanged upon a Gallows, and there to be burnt hanging upon the same: Which Judgement was executed upon him the thirteenth day of December in Saint Gyles fields, where many honourable persons were present; and the last words that he spake, was to Sir Thomas Eu­pingham, [Page] adjuring him, that if hee saw him rise from death to life again the third day, he would procure that his Sect which he had raised, might be in peace and quiet. Hee was hang­ed by the neck in a chain of Iron, and after consumed by fire.

Moreover it is recorded, that in time of this worthy Pretor Sir Richard Whittington, the glorious City of Constantinople was taken by Mahomet, the second Prince of the Turkes, whose Souldiers sacked it with all extremity, and omitted no manner of cruelty or violence either to virgins, aged women, nor sucking babes. This Sir Richard Whit­tington had traffick from thence by his Factors which there abode, and were then taken prisoners; so that he lost neare upon fifteen thousand pounds: which when he heard of, never was so much as cast down, or [Page] dismayed, but said, God will send more: yea, such was the incessant practice of the Turkish tyranny upon this imperiall City, as it exceeded the damage, rapes, and spoyles of other Cities. They also beheaded at the same time Constantine the Christian Emperour thereof, and put his head upon the top of a Launce, and with derision caused it to be carryed thorow the Turkish Campe.

In the space of a week after, there hapned a horrible tempest of Thun­der and Lightning, which burned almost eight hundred houses, and spoiled three thousand people at the sacking of the aforesaid City by the said Mahomet. The Turkes found therein so much treasure, that they wondred that the Citizens would not spend it upon souldiers for their owe defence, but so dotingly to spare the true spending thereof, to become an [Page] enticing prey for their unreconcilea­ble enemies: for indeed it was thought, that if the State would have hired souldiers, and given them good pay, they might have raised the siege of the Turkes. It is an old and a true saying, Covetousnesse is the mother of ruine and mischief.

This strange thing hapned in the second time that he was elected Lord Maior, and that was upon the twen­ty seventh of Aprill, being Tuesday in Easter-week: William Foxley, Pot-maker for the Mint in the Tow­er of London, fell asleep, and so con­tinued sleeping and snoring, and could not be wakened with oricking, cramping, or otherwise burning whatsoever, till the first day of the Terme, which was full 14. daies, and 15. nights: The cause of this his sleeping could not be known, [Page] though the same were diligently searched for by the Kings command of his Physitians, and other learned men; yea, the King himself examined the said William Foxley, who was in all points found at his waking, to be as if he had slept but one night, and yet lived 41 years after: But in length of time he did call to minde, how he did wish to God that he might sleep a Fortnight together, if it was not so and so; concerning a bargain between a neighbour of his and him­self

On thursday in Whisun week fol­lowing, the Duke of Somerset, with Anthony Rivers, and four other, kept Justs and Turnaments before the King and Queen, and other of the Nobility in the Tower of Lon­don, against three Esquires of the Queens Bed-chamber, which were performed before some of the French [Page] Nobility, that then were prisoners to the King, which he took in France; to the great admiration of those strangers who never saw the like action before, being so earnestly per­formed. There was also Sir Ri­chard Whittington, and the two Sheriffes, and that night the King and Queen did suppe with the Lord Maior.

Those strangers which beheld the Justs, were prisoners in the Tower at that time; namely, the Duke of Orleance and Burbon, brother to the Duke of Brittain; the Earls of Van­dosme, of Ewe, and Richmond, and the High Marshall of France, and many other Knights and Esquires. to the number of seven hundred; all all which were at one time prisoners to the King, but nobly used and at­tended, every one according to their rank and quality: who, when they [Page] were ransomed, made it known to their King, how honourably they were attended in England, and what re [...]pect the King and our English Nation shewed them being priso­ners, who might have taken their lives away, as well as their persons prisoners.

The second thing that was re­markable in Sir Richard Whit­tingtons yeare, was that the King kept his Christmas at Lambeth; and at the feast of Purification, seven Dolphins of the Sea came up to the River of Thames, and played there up and down, while four of them were kill'd.

On Saturday, the Eve of Saint Michael the Arch-angell the yeare following, in the morning before day, betwixt the hour of one and two of the clock, began a terrible Earthquake, with Lightning and [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] Thunder, which continued the space of six hours, and that universally through the whole World; so that menhad thought the world as then should have ended. The unreasonable beasts roared, and drew to the Tow n with ahideous noise: also the Fowles of the Air cryed out; such was the work of God at that time, to call his people to repentance.

The four and twentieth day of January following, a battail, or com­bate was fought in Smithfield with­in the lists, before the King, between two men of Feversham in Kent, Iohn Upton Notary, Appellant; and Iohn Downe, Gentleman, Defendant: John Upton accused John Downe, that hee and his Compiers should imagine the Kings death on the day of his Coronation following. When they had fought some what long, and [Page] had received each of them some wounds, and still persisting in their violent action, and no hopes to finde out the truth, the King took up the matter, and forgave both parties.

On Candlemas Eve following, in divers places of England was great weathering of wind, hail, snow rain, with thunder and lightning, whereby the Church of Baldock in Hertford­shire, and the Church and part of the Town of Walden in Essex, with o­ther neigbouring Villages, were sore shaken; and the Steeple of Saint Pauls in London, about two of the clock, in the afternoon, was set on fire in the midst of the shaft, first on the West side, and then on the South; and divers people espying the fire, came to quench it in the steeple, which they did with Vinegar, so far as they could find; so that when the Lord Maior with much [Page] people came to Pauls to have holpen if need had been, returned again eve­ry man to his own home, trusting to God all had been well: But anon af­ter, between eight and nine of the clock, the fire burst out again atresh out of the steeple by reason of the wind, more hot and fervent than be­fore, and did much hurt to the Lead and Timber thereof. Then the Lord Maior and many people came thi­ther again: and with vinegar quench­ed the fire which was so violent, so that no man received any hurt.

Moreover, in Sir Richard Whit­tingtons time lived one Richard Fleming, Bishop of Lincoln in the year 1430, Who founded Lincoln Colledge in Oxford, which was af­terwards in Richard the thirds time, in the year of our Lord 1479. by Tho. [Page] Rotheram Bishop of the same Sea, much augmented and enlarged, with great revenews. Likewise Magdalen College in Oxford was built; and also a great part of Eaton Colledge in Oxford was built, and also a great part of Eaton Colledge by William Wainfleet, Bishop of Winchester, who was a loving and a constant friend to Sir Richard Whitting­ton, and did much good in many parts of this Kingdom; and the said Sir Richard did largely contribute to these and the like pious uses by the intreaty of this Bishop.

In the yeare of our Lord 1419. in which Sir Richard Whittington was the third time inaugurated into the Majorality, as is before mentio­ned, King Henry the fift, who having conquered the greatest part of France, and espoused Katherine sole Daughter to ehe King, and Heir to the [Page] Crown, taking leave of his Father in law, embarked with his royall Bride,

and landed at Dover upon Candle­mas day, leaving in France for his [Page] Deputy his brother, the Duke of Clarence: from thence arrived at London the fourteenth day of Febru­ary, and the Queen came thither the one and twentieth day of the same month, being met upon Black-heath by the Lord Mayor, and three hun­dred Alvermen, and prime Citizens, in Gold chains, and rich and costly habits, with other sumptuous and brave devices, as Pageanes, Spee­ches, and shows, to the great de­light and content of both their Majesties.

The four and twentieth day of February following, being Saint Matthews day, her Coronation was solemnized in Saint Peters Church in Westminster: which being en­ded, she was ateerwards royally conveyed in the great Hall, and there under a rich Canopy of State sate to Dinner: upon whose right [Page] hand sate at the end of the same Ta­ble, the Lord Archbishops Grace of of Canterbury, and Henry called the rich Cardinall, Bishop of Win­chester: upon the left hand of the Queen sate the King of Scots, in a chair of estate, and was served with covered Dishes as the Bishops were. But after them, and upon the same side next to the boords end were seated the Dutchesse of York, and Countesse of Huntington: the Earl of March holding a Scepter in his hand, kneeled upon the right side, the Earl Marshal in the like manner kneeled upon the left hand of the Queen: The Countesse of Kent sate under the Table at the right foot, and the Countesse Marshall at the left foot of her Majesty.

Humphrey Duke of Glocester, was that day Dverseer, and stood before the Queen baresheaded: Sir Rich­ard [Page] Newell was Carver, and the Earles brother of Suffolk Cup-bea­rer; Sir Iohn Steward Sewer the Lord Clifford (instead of the Earle of Warwick) Pantler, the Lord Wllowby (instead of the Earle of Arundell) chief Butler, the Lord Gray Kater, Naperer, the Lord Aud­ley (in the stead of the Earle of Cam­bridge) Almner: the Earle of Wor­cester was Lord High Marshall, who rode about the Hall on a great Courser with many tip-stave about him, to make room in the Hall. In the which Hall next after the Queen, the Barons of the Cinque­ports began the Table; upon the right hand towards Saint Ste­vens Chappell; and beneath them at the tables are the Vouchers of the Chancery, and upon the left hand next to the Cupboord sate Sir Richard Whittington (now the third time [Page] Lord Maior) and his brethren, the Aldermen of London. The rest of the Bishops began the table over against the Barons of the Cinqueports, & the Ladies and chief noble women the table against the Lord Maior and the Aldermen: At which two tables of the Bishops, the Bishop of Lon­don, and the Bishop of Durham sate highest at the one, and the Countesse of Stafford, and the Countesse of March on the other. And for ordering of the service, divers chiefe Lords were appointed Officers; as Stew­ard, Controwler, Surveyer, and the like; which places were supplyed by the Earles of Northumberland, Westmerland, the Lord Fizhue, the Lord Furnevall, the Lord Gray of Wilton, the Lord Feres of Groby, the Lord Poynings, the Lord Ha­rington, the Lord Darcy, the Lord Daker, the Lord Delaware, &c.

[Page] I have shewed you only the orde­ring of this rich Feast, but the cost and sumptuousnesse of the fare, would ask too large and long a circum­stance to discourse: what I have hi­therto done, was onely to shew to the World, that at those high Solem­nities, Inaugurations and Corona­tions, the Lord Maior of the City of London, and the Aldermen have place, and their presence is still requi­red: the City being the Kings Chamber, and in an Interregnum hee the first and prime Officer in the Kingdom. But I fear I have dwelt too long upon the premises, which I hope, none will hold for an unne­cessary deviation: I come now to de­liver unto you of Sir Richard Whittingtons invitation of the King and Queen into the City, where he bounteoussy feasted them in his own house, and at his own proper charge.

[Page] How great and magnificent the Londoners feasts be even amongst themselves, especially at that high and pompuous festivall at Guild-Hall the day after Simon and Iude, at the solemn Inaugutation of his Lordship, who but knowes; as also the ordinary Tables of the Lord Maior and the Sheriffes, where there is free and generous en­tertainment for all men of fashion, and quality; the like both for plenty of dishes, and order of service it is not else where to be seen, or found through Europe. If then their dayly provision be so curious and costly, what may we think their variety and rarity was at the invitation and en­tertainment of two such great Ma­jesties? I must therefore leave it to the Readers imagination, being so far transcending my expression: Let it therefore give satisfaction to any one [Page] that shall doubt thereof, that it was performed to the everlasting reputation of the Inviter, the honour of the City, and great content of these Royall Personages invited: The bounty of his Table not to be question'd, I come to the fire that hee made in the Presence-chamber, where the King and Queen then Dined, which was only of sweet and odori­terous Wood, far exceeding the smell of Iuniper; for it was mixed with Mace, Cinamon, and other rare and costly svices, which did cast such a pleasant and delightfull labour through the room, that it pleased his Maiesty to call him unto him, and say, my good Lord Maior, though your fare be both choice, costly, and abundant, yet above all things I have observed in your noble enter­tainment, this Fire, which you have provided for me, gives me most con­tent: [Page] To whom Sir Richard Whit­tington making a low obeysance, made answer, it much rejoyceth me Dread Soveraign, that any thing which remaineth in my power, can give your Highnesse the least cause to be pleased: but since you praise this fiire already made, I purpose ere yonr sacred Majesty depart the house, to entertain you with one (I hope) that shall content you much better: the King not thing it could be possible, desired him to make a proof thereof: when he (having before provided himself for the purpose) brought a great bundle of Bonds, Indentures, and Covenants under his arm, said said thus to the King; Royall Sove­raign, to whom I owe both my for­tunes, and my life, I have here a fag­got of purpose left for this Fire, which I hope, will smell much more sweetly than the rest in your nostrills; [Page] for saith he, here is first your High­nesse security for tenne thousand Markes, lent you for the maintenance of your Royall Warrs in France, by the Right Worshipfull Company of the Mercers, which I here cancel, and cast into the Fire: Fifteen hun­dred lent by the City to your Ma­jesty, I send after the former; two thousand Markes borrowed of the Grocers Company, three thousand of the Merchant taylers, one thou­sand of the Drapers, one thousand of the Skinners, one thousand of the Skinners, one thousand of the I­ronmongers, five thousand of the Merchant-Staplers; of the Gold­smiths three thousand, of the Haber­dashers as much; of the Vintners, Brewers, and Brownbakers three thousand Markes: All these you see are cancell'd, and burnt saith he; with divers other Bonds sor money lent [Page] by my: father in law, Alderman Fitzwarren, for the payment of your Souldiers in France, which coming unto me by Exetutorship, I have taken in, and diseharged.

Others there are likewise due to me of no small summes; by divers of your Nobility here present, all which with the former I have sacrificed, to the love and honour of my Dread Soveraign, amounting to the sum of threescore thousand pounds ster­ling, and can your Majesty (saith he) desire to sit by a fire of a more sweet sent aud sovour? At this the King was much extasi'd, and the ra­ther, because it came so unexpectedly, and from so free a spirit, and imbra­cing him in his Arms, said unto him, That he thonght never King had such a subject: and at his departure, did him all the grace and honour that could descend from a King to a [Page] Subject, promising him moreover, that he should ever stand in the first rank of those whom he favoured. And so the Lord Maior bearing the sword before their two most sacred Majesties as far as Temple-bar, the King for his former service, and his most kind and loving entertainment at that time, and the Noble men, for that extraordinary courtesie offered them, all unitedly and unanimously commended his goodnesse, applauded his bounty, and wished that he might live to perpetuall memory, and so bid both him and the City for that time adteu.

To omit all other circumstances, having acquainted you with the poore and mean estate of this Sir Richard Whittington when hee came first into the City of London, and by what me [...]ns he was relieved in his miserable poverty; as also the [Page] fortunate successa of his small adven­venture, whereby he was, raised unto so great honour, that he became the

Cities Governour, and how discreet­ly and wisely he behaved himself in his Authority and Office, gaining [Page] thereby the love and approbation of all men: And further, having plainly she wed you what goodly buildings have been raised by his great cost and charge, as one Church, two Colledg­es: and certain Almshouses, with year­ly means left for the maintenance of all such as shall be admitted into them; and many other charitable acts performed by him, which are before related, to the great good and benefit of the City; and what things of note hapned in his time, I will now con­clude with Master Stow, O that London had a park near adjoyning uuto it, stored with such Deere, (as doubtlesse it hath, though not easily known) for some build Almshouses, Freeschools, Cawlies, and Bridges in needfull and necessary plates; o­thers repair ruioated and decayed Churches, relieving Hospitalls in a bountifull manner, and are weekly [Page] Benefactors to Prisons, and those performed by such agent faithfully that the true bestowers are not pub­lickly noted, howsoever they may be easily suspected: But the glory they seek to evade here, will (no doubt) for ever shine on them else­where And that great God who hath created us, and plentifully distribu­ted al his great bounty all things to men, and yet not given all things to any one man, lest it might take away that necessary commerse, and mutu­all consoci [...]ty which ought to be a­mongst [...] [...] up the minds of more of them, to imitate at least, though not to exceed them in their bounty and liberality.