An. Reg. 1.
1483.
(*) This that is here betwÉene this marke & this marke (*) was not written by maister More in this historie written by him in English, but is translated out of this historie which he wrote in Latine.
(*) The next daie the protector with a great traine went to Westminster hall, & there when he had placed himselfe in the court of the Kings bench, declared to the audience, that he would take vpon him the crowne in that place there, where the king himselfe sitteth and ministreth the law, bicause he considered that it was the chiefest dutie of a king to minister the lawes. Then with as pleasant an oration as he could, he went about to win vnto him the nobles, the merchants, the artificers, and in conclusion all kind of men, but especiallie the lawiers of this realme. And finallie to the intent that no man should hate him for feare, and that his deceitfull clemencie might get him the good will of the people, when he had declared the discommodities of discord, & the cōmodities of concord & vnitie, he made an open proclamation, that he did put out of his mind all enimities, and that he there did openlie pardon all offenses committed against him.
And to the intent that he might shew a proofe therof, he commanded that one Fog, whom he had long deadlie hated, should be brought then before him, who being brought out of the sanctuarie (for thither had he fled for feare of him) in the sight of the people he tooke him by the hand. Which thing the common people reioised at, and praised, but wise men tooke it for a vanitie. In his returne homeward, whome so euer he met, he saluted. For a mind that knoweth it selfe guiltie, is in a manner deiected to a seruile flatterie [which refuseth no dutifulnesse, tend the same to neuer so hie a degrÉe of indignitie; which one noteth, saieng:
----rides? maiore cachinno
Concutitur; flet, si lachrymas aspexit amici;
Frigescis? friget: si dixeris, Æstuo, sudat.]
From this marke (*) to this (*) is not found in sir Thomas More, but in maister Hall and Grafton.
When he had begun his reigne in the moneth of Iune, after this mockish election, then was he crowned king in the verie same moneth. And that solemnitie was furnished, for the most part, with the selfe same prouision that was appointed for the coronation of his nephue. (*) But here to shew the manner of his coronation, as the same is inserted in this pamphlet of sir Thomas More, by maister Edward Hall and Richard Grafton (although not found in the same pamphlet) thus we find it by them reported. (*) First, to be sure of all enimies (as he thought) he sent for fiue thousand men of the north against his coronation, which came vp euill apparelled, and worse harnessed, in rustie harnesse, neither defensible, nor scowred to the sale, which mustered in Finsburie field to the great disdaine of the lookers on. [By which beginning appÉered to the world that he had his state in suspicion, otherwise he would not haue procured such a power to be attendant at his commandment, and that at such time as (all weapons laid aside) peace and tranquillitie should haue bÉene sought after for the comforts of the peoples minds, & the safetie of his owne person; but being verie mistrustfull & fraught with carefull thoughts, he was in a maze betwÉene hope and feare, according to this verie true saieng:
SollicitÆ mentes spÉque metÚque pauent.]
The fourth daie of Iulie he came to the Tower by water with his wife, and the fift daie he created Thomas lord Howard duke of Norffolke, and sir Thomas Howard his sonne he created earle of Surrie, and William lord Berkeleie was then created erle of Nottingham, and Francis lord Louell was then made vicount Louell, and the king his chamberleine, and the lord Stanleie was deliuered out of ward, for feare of his sonne the lord Strange, which was then in Lancashire, gathering men (as men said) and the said lord was made steward of the king his houshold: likewise the archbishop of Yorke was deliuered, but Morton bishop of Elie was committed to the duke of Buckingham to kÉepe in ward, which sent him to his manour of Brecknocke in Wales, from whence he escaped to king Richard his confusion.
SeuentÉene knights of the Bath created by king Richard.
What pÉers &c. states were attendant on him going to his coronation.
The same night, the king made seuentÉene knights of the Bath, whose names insue: Sir Edmund the duke of Suffolks sonne, sir George Greie, the earle of Kents sonne, sir William, the lord Zouches sonne, sir Henrie Aburgauennie, sir Christopher Willoughbie, sir William Berkeleie, sir Henrie Babington, sir Thomas Arundell, sir Thomas Bologne, sir Gerueis of Clifton, sir William Saie, sir Edmund Bedingfield, sir William Enderbie, sir Thomas Lekenor, sir Thomas of Vrinon, sir Iohn Browne, sir William Berkeleie. The next daie, being the first daie of Iulie, the king rode through the citie of London toward Westminster with great pompe, being accompanied with these dukes, earles, lords, and knights, whose names follow. Edward prince of Wales, the kings onelie sonne. Dukes: the duke of Norffolke, the duke of Buckingham, the duke of Suffolke. Earles: the earle of Northumberland, the earle of Arundell, the earle of Kent, the earle of Surrie, the earle of Wilshire, the earle of Huntington, the earle of Nottingham, the earle of Warwike, the earle of Lincolne. Lords: the lord Lisle vicount, the lord Louell vicount, the lord Stanleie, the lord Audleie, the lord Dacres, the lord Ferrers of Chertleie, the lord Powes, the lord Scroope of Vpsall, the lord Scroope of Bolton, the lord Greie Codner, the lord Greie of Wilton, the lord Sturton, the lord Cobham, the lord Morleie, the lord Aburgauennie, the lord Zouch, the lord Ferrers of Grobie, the lord Welles, the lord Lomleie, the lord Matreuers, the lord Herbert, the lord Becham. Knights: sir Iames Tirell, sir William Kneuet, sir Thomas Aborow, sir William Stanleie, sir William Aparre, sir George Browne, sir Robert Middleton, sir Iohn Henningham, sir Nicholas Latimer, sir Thomas Montgomerie, sir Thomas Delamer, sir Gilbert Debnam, sir Terrie Robsart, sir William Brandon, sir Iohn Sauell, sir Henrie Wentford, sir Edward Stanleie, sir Henrie Sentmount, sir William Yoong, sir Thomas Bowser, sir Henrie Winkefield, sir Thomas Wortleie, sir Iohn Sentlow, sir Charles of Pilkington, sir Iames Harrington, sir Iohn Ashleie, sir Thomas Berkeleie, sir Richard Becham, sir William Hopton, sir Thomas Persie, sir Robert Dimmocke, sir Iohn Cheinie, sir Richard Ludlow, sir Iohn Eldrington, sir William Sands, sir Richard Dudleie, sir William Sentlow, sir Tho. Twaights, sir Edmund of Dudleie, sir Rafe Ashton, sir Richard Charlington, sir Thomas Greie, sir Philip Berkeleie, sir Robert Harington, sir Thomas Greffleie, sir Richard Harecourt, sir William Noris, sir Thomas Selenger, sir Richard Hodlesten, sir Iohn Conias, sir William Stoner, sir Philip Courtneie, sir William Gascoigne, sir Richard Amedilton, sir Roger Fines, sir George VÉere, sir Henrie Persie, sir Iohn Wood, sir Iohn Aparre, sir Iohn Greie, sir Iohn Danbie, sir Richard Tailebush, sir Iohn Rudet, sir Iohn Herring, sir Richard Enderbie, sir Iohn Berkeleie, sir Iames Stranguish, sir Rafe Carnbrecke, sir Iohn Constable, sir Robert Eliard, sir Richard Derell, sir Iohn Gilford, sir Iohn Lekenor, sir Iohn Morleie, sir Iohn Hues, sir Iohn Bologne, sir Edmund Shaw alderman.
The solemne ceremonies vsed at king Richards coronation.
On the morow, being the sixt daie of Iulie, the king with quÉene Anne his wife, came downe out of the White hall into the great hall at Westminster, and went directlie into the kings Bench. And from thense, the king and the quÉene going vpon raie cloth barefooted, went vnto saint Edwards shrine, and all his nobilitie going with him, euerie lord in his degrÉe. And first went the trumpets, and then the heralds of armes in their rich coats, & next followed the crosse with a solemne procession, the priests hauing fine surplisses and graie amisses vpon them. The abbats and bishops mitred and in rich copes, & euerie of them caried their crosiers in their hands. The bishop of Rochester bare the crosse before the cardinall. Then followed the earle of Huntington bearing a paire of gilt spurres, signifieng knighthood. Then followed the earle of Bedford bearing saint Edwards staffe for a relike.
After them came the earle of Northumberland bareheaded, with the pointlesse sword naked in his hand, which signified mercie. The lord Stanleie bare the mace of the constableship. The earle of Kent bare the second sword on the right hand of the king naked, with a point, which signified iustice vnto the temporaltie. The lord Louell bare the third sword on the left hand with a point, which signified iustice to the cleargie. The duke of Suffolke followed with the scepter in his hand, which signified peace. The earle of Lincolne bare the ball and crosse, which signified monarchie. The erle of Surrie bare the fourth sword before the king in a rich scabberd, and that is called the sword of estate. Then went thrÉe togither, in the middest went Garter king at armes in his rich cote: and on his left hand went the maior of London, bearing a mace: and on his right hand went the gentleman vsher of the priuie chamber. Then followed the duke of Norffolke, bearing the kings crowne betwÉene his hands.
QuÉene Anne wife to king Richard and daughter to Richard earle of Warwike and his traine.
Then followed king Richard in his robes of purple veluet, and ouer his head a canopie, borne by foure barons of the cinque ports. And on euerie side of the king there went one bishop, that is to saie, the bishop of Bath, and the bishop of Durham. Then followed the duke of Buckingham bearing the kings traine, with a white staffe in his hand, signifieng the office of the high steward of England. Then there followed a great number of earles and barons before the quÉene. And then came the earle of Huntington, who bare the quÉenes scepter, and the vicount Lisle bearing the rod with the doue. And the earle of Wilshire bare the quÉenes crowne. Then followed quÉene Anne daughter to Richard earle of Warwike in robes like to the king, betwÉene two bishops, and a canopie ouer hir head borne by the barons of the ports. On hir head a rich coronet set with stones and pearle.
The king & quÉene crowned.
After hir followed the countesse of Richmond heire to the duke of Summerset, which bare vp the quÉenes traine. After followed the duchesse of Suffolke and Norffolke, with countesses, baronesses, ladies, and manie faire gentlewomen. In this order they passed through the palace, and entered the abbeie at the west end; and so came to their seats of estate. And after diuerse songs solemnelie soong, they both ascended to the high altar, and were shifted from their robes, and had diuerse places open from the middle vpward, in which places they were annointed. Then both the king and the quÉene changed them into cloth of gold, and ascended to their seats, where the cardinall of Canturburie, & other bishops them crowned according to the custome of the realme, giuing him the scepter in the left hand, & the ball with the crosse in the right hand; and the quÉene had the scepter in hir right hand, and the rod with the doue in her left hand.
On euerie side of the king stood a duke, and before him stood the earle of Surrie with the sword in his hands. And on euerie side of the quÉene standing a bishop, & a ladie knÉeling. The cardinal soong masse, and after pax, the king and the quÉene descended, and before the high altar they were both houseled, with one host diuided betwÉene them. After masse finished, they both offered at saint Edward his shrine, and there the king left the crowne of saint Edward, and put on his owne crowne. And so in order as they came, they departed to Westminster hall; and so to their chambers for a season: during which time the duke of Norffolke came into the hall, his horsse trapped to the ground in cloth of gold, as high marshall, and voided the hall. About foure of the clocke, the king and quÉene entered the hall, and the king sate in the middle, and the quÉene on the left hand of the table, and on euerie side of hir stood a countesse, holding a cloth of pleasance, when she list to drinke.
And on the right hand of the king sat the bishop of Canturburie. The ladies sat all on one side, in the middle of the hall. And at the table against them sat the chancellor and all the lords. At the table next the cupboord, sat the maior of London; and at the table behind the lords, sat the barons of the ports: and at the other tables sat noble and worshipfull personages. When all persons were set, the duke of Norffolke earle marshall, the earle of Surrie, constable for that daie, the lord Stanlie lord steward, sir William Hopton treasurer, & sir Thomas Persie controller, came in and serued the king solemnelie, with one dish of gold, and an other of siluer, and the quÉene all in gilt vessell, and the bishop all in siluer.
Sir Robert Dimmocke the kings champion his challenge in the behalfe of king Richard.
At the second course came into the hall sir Robert Dimmocke the kings champion, making proclamation, that whosoeuer would saie, that king Richard was not lawfull king, he would fight with him at the vtterance, and threw downe his gantlet, and then all the hall cried; king Richard. And so he did in thrÉe parts of the hall, and then one brought him a cup of wine couered, and when he had drunke, he cast out the drinke, and departed with the cup. After that, the heralds cried a largesse thrise in the hall, and so went vp to their stage. At the end of dinner, the maior of London serued the king & quÉene with swÉete wine, and had of each of them a cup of gold, with a couer of gold. And by that time that all was doone, it was darke night. And so the king returned to his chamber, and euerie man to his lodging.
A gaie pretense of iustice and equitie.
When this feast was thus finished, the king sent home all the lords into their countries that would depart, except the lord Stanleie, whom he reteined, till he heard what his sonne the lord Strange went about. And to such as went home, he gaue streight charge and commandement, to sÉe their countries well ordered, and that no wrong nor extortion should be doone to his subiects. And thus he taught other to execute iustice and equitie, the contrarie whereof he dailie exercised. He also with great rewards giuen to the Northernemen, which he sent for to his coronation, sent them home to their countrie with great thanks: whereof diuerse of them (as they be all of nature verie grÉedie of authoritie, & speciallie when they thinke to haue anie comfort or fauour) tooke on them so highlie, and wrought such maisteries, that the king was faine to ride thither in his first yeare, and to put some in execution, and staie the countrie, or else no small mischÉefe had insued.
Sir Thomas More againe.
Perkin Werbecke.
Now fell there mischÉefs thicke. And as the thing euill gotten is neuer well kept, thorough all the time of his reigne neuer ceassed there cruell death and slaughter, till his owne destruction ended it. But as he finished his time with the best death and the most righteous, that is to wit, his owne; so began he with the most pitious and wicked, I meane the lamentable murther of his innocent nephues, the yoong king and his tender brother: whose death and finall infortune hath naitheless comen so farre in question, that some remaine yet in doubt, whether they were in his daies destroied or no. Not for that onelie that Perkin Werbecke by manie folks malice, and mo folks follie, so long space abusing the world, was as well with princes as the poorer people reputed and taken for the yoonger of these two; but for that also that all things were in late daies so couertlie demeaned, one thing pretended, and an other meant.
Close dealing is euer suspected.
Insomuch that there was nothing so plaine and openlie prooued, but that yet for the common custome of close and couert dealing, men had it euer inwardlie suspect; as manie well counterfaited iewels make the true mistrusted. Howbeit, concerning the opinion, with the occasions moouing either partie, we shall haue place more at large to intreat, if we hereafter happen to write the time of the late noble prince of famous memorie king Henrie the seauenth, or percase that historie of Perkin in anie compendious processe by it selfe. But in the meane time, for this present matter, I shall rehearse you the dolorous end of those babes, not after euerie waie that I haue heard, but after that waie, that I haue so heard by such men and by such meanes, as me thinketh it were hard but it should be true.
Iohn GrÉene.
Robert Brakenberie constable of the Tower.
King Richard after his coronation, taking his waie to Glocester to visit (in his new honour) the towne of which he bare the name of his old, deuised (as he rode) to fulfill the thing which he before had intended. And forsomuch as his mind gaue him, that his nephues liuing, men would not reckon that he could haue right to the realme: he thought therefore without delaie to rid them, as though the killing of his kinsmen could amend his cause, and make him a kindlie king. Whervpon he sent one Iohn GrÉene, (whom he speciallie trusted) vnto sir Robert Brakenberie, constable of the Tower, with a letter and credence also, that the same sir Robert should in anie wise put the two children to death.
The murther of the two young princes set abroch.
Sir Iames Tirrell described.
This Iohn GrÉene did his errand vnto Brakenberie, knÉeling before our ladie in the Tower. Who plainelie answered, that he would neuer put them to death to die therefore. With which answer Iohn GrÉene returning, recounted the same to king Richard at Warwike yet in his waie. Wherewith he tooke such displeasure & thought, that the same night he said vnto a secret page of his: "Ah! whom shall a man trust? Those that I haue brought vp my selfe, those that I had wÉent would most suerlie serue me, euen those faile me, and at my commandement will doo nothing for me." "Sir (quoth his page) there lieth one on your pallet without, that I dare well saie, to doo your grace pleasure, the thing were right hard that he would refuse." Meaning this by sir Iames Tirrell, which was a man of right goodlie personage, and for natures gifts worthie to haue serued a much better prince, if he had well serued God, and by grace obteined as much truth and good will as he had strength and wit.
Authoritie loueth no partners.
The man had an high heart, & sore longed vpward, not rising yet so fast as he had hoped, being hindered & kept vnder by the meanes of sir Richard Ratcliffe, and sir William Catesbie, which longing for no mo parteners of the princes fauour; and namelie, not for him, whose pride they wist would beare no pÉere, kept him by secret drifts out of all secret trust, which thing this page well had marked and knowne. Wherefore this occasion offered, of verie speciall friendship he tooke his time to put him forward, and by such wise doo him good, that all the enimies he had (except the deuill) could neuer haue doone him so much hurt. For vpon this pages words king Richard arose (for this communication had he sitting at the draught, a conuenient carpet for such a councell) and came out into the pallet chamber, on which he found in bed sir Iames and sir Thomas Tirrels, of person like, and brethren of bloud, but nothing of kin in conditions.
The constable of the Tower deliuereth the keies to sir Iames Tirrell vpon the kings commandement.
Then said the king merilie to them; What sirs, be ye in bed so soone? And calling vp sir Iames, brake to him secretlie his mind in this mischÉeuous matter. In which he found him nothing strange. Wherefore on the morow he sent him to Brakenberie with a letter, by which he was commanded to deliuer sir Iames all the keies of the Tower for one night, to the end he might there accomplish the kings pleasure, in such things as he had giuen him commandement. After which letter deliuered, & the keies receiued, sir Iames appointed the night next insuing to destroie them, deuising before and preparing the meanes. The prince (as soone as the protector left that name, and tooke himselfe as king) had it shewed vnto him, that he should not reigne, but his vncle shuld haue the crowne. At which word the prince sore abashed, began to sigh, and said: Alas, I would my vncle would let me haue my life yet, though I lÉese my kingdome.
The two princes shut vp in close hold.
The two murtherers of the two princes appointed.
Then he that told him the tale, vsed him with good words, and put him in the best comfort he could. But foorthwith was the prince and his brother both shut vp, & all other remooued from them, onelie one (called Blacke Will, or William Slaughter) excepted, set to serue them and sÉe them sure. After which time the prince neuer tied his points, nor ought rought of himselfe; but with that yoong babe his brother, lingered with thought and heauinesse, vntill this traitorous death deliuered them of that wretchednesse. For sir Iames Tirrell deuised, that they should be murthered in their beds. To the execution whereof, he appointed Miles Forrest, one of the foure that kept them, a fellow fleshed in murther before time. To him he ioined one Iohn Dighton his owne horssekÉeper, a big, broad, square, and strong knaue.
The yoong K. and his brother murthered in their beds at midnight in the Tower.
Then all the other being remooued from them, this Miles Forrest, and Iohn Dighton, about midnight (the sÉelie children lieng in their beds) came into the chamber, & suddenlie lapping them vp among the clothes, so to bewrapped them and intangled them, kÉeping downe by force the fether-bed and pillowes hard vnto their mouths, that within a while, smoothered and stifled, their breath failing, they gaue vp to God their innocent soules into the ioies of heauen, leauing to the tormentors their bodies dead in the bed. Which after that the wretches perceiued, first by the strugling with the paines of death, and after long lieng still, to be thoroughlie dead, they laid their bodies naked out vpon the bed, and fetched sir Iames to sÉe them; which vpon the sight of them, caused those murtherers to burie them at the staire foot, mÉetlie dÉepe in the ground, vnder a great heape of stones.
The murther confessed.
Then rode sir Iames in great hast to king Richard, and shewed him all the maner of the murther; who gaue him great thanks, and (as some saie) there made him knight. But he allowed not (as I haue heard) the burieng in so vile a corner, saieng, that he would haue them buried in a better place, bicause they were a kings sonnes. Lo the honourable courage of a king. Whervpon they saie, that a priest of sir Robert Brakenberies tooke vp the bodies againe, and secretlie interred them in such place, as by the occasion of his death, which onelie knew it, could neuer since come to light. Verie truth is it, and well knowne, that at such time as sir Iames Tirrell was in the Tower, for treason committed against the most famous prince king Henrie the seauenth, both Dighton and he were examined, and confessed the murther in maner aboue written: but whither the bodies were remooued, they could nothing tell.
And thus (as I haue learned of them that much knew, and little cause had to lie) were these two noble princes, these innocent tender children, borne of most roiall bloud, brought vp in great wealth, likelie long to liue, reigne, and rule in the realme, by traitorous tyrannie taken, depriued of their estate, shortlie shut vp in prison, and priuilie slaine and murthered, their bodies cast God wot where, by the cruell ambition of their vnnaturall vncle and his despiteous tormentors. Which things on euerie part well pondered, God neuer gaue this world a more notable example, neither in what vnsuertie standeth this worldlie weale; or what mischÉefe worketh the proud enterprise of an high heart; or finallie, what wretched end insueth such despiteous crueltie.
The iust judgement of God seuerelie reuenging the murther of the innocent princes vpon the malefactors.
For first, to begin with the ministers, Miles Forrest, at S. Martins pÉecemeale rotted awaie. Dighton in dÉed yet walketh on aliue in good possibilitie to be hanged yer he die. But sir Iames Tirrell died at the Tower hill beheaded for treason. King Richard himselfe, as ye shall hereafter heare, slaine in the field, hacked and hewed of his enimies hands, haried on horsse-backe dead, his haire in despite torne and tugged like a curre dog; and the mischÉefe that he tooke, within lesse than thrÉe yeares of the mischÉefe that he did: and yet all (in the meane time) spent in much paine & trouble outward, much feare, anguish and sorow within. For I haue heard by credible report of such as were secret with his chamberleine, that after this abominable dÉed doone, he neuer had a quiet mind. Than the which there can be no greater torment. For a giltie conscience inwardlie accusing and bearing witnesse against an offender, is such a plague and punishment, as hell itselfe (with all the fÉends therein) can not affoord one of greater horror & affliction; the poet implieng no lesse in this tristichon:
Pers. sat. 3.
Poena autem vehemens, ac multo sÆuior illis,
Quas & CÆditius grauis inuenit & Radamanthus,
Nocte diÉque suum gestare in pectore testem.
The outward and inward troubles of tyrants by meanes of a grudging conscience.
He neuer thought himselfe sure. Where he went abroad, his eies whirled about, his bodie priuilie fensed, his hand euer vpon his dagger, his countenance and maner like one alwaies readie to strike againe, he tooke ill rest a nights, laie long waking and musing, sore wearied with care and watch, rather slumbered than slept, troubled with fearefull dreames, suddenlie sometime start vp, lept out of his bed, and ran about the chamber; so was his restlesse heart continuallie tossed and tumbled with the tedious impression and stormie remembrance of his abhominable dÉed. Now had he outward no long time in rest. For herevpon, soone after began the conspiracie, or rather good confederation, betwÉene the duke of Buckingham and manie other gentlemen against him. The occasion wherevpon the king and the duke fell out, is of diuerse folke in diuerse wise pretended.
This duke (as I haue for certeine bÉene informed) as soone as the duke of Glocester, vpon the death of king Edward, came to Yorke, and there had solemne funerall seruice for king Edward, sent thither in the most secret wise he could, one [1]Persall his trustie seruant, who came to Iohn Ward a chamberer of like secret trust with the duke of Glocester, desiring that in the most close and couert maner, he might be admitted to the presence and spÉech of his maister. And the duke of Glocester aduertised of his desire, caused him in the dead of the night (after all other folke auoided) to be brought vnto him in his secret chamber, where Persall (after his maisters recommendations) shewed him that he had secret sent him to shew him, that in this new world he would take such part as he would, & wait vpon him with a thousand good fellowes, if nÉed were.
The messenger sent backe with thanks, & some secret instruction of the protectors mind, yet met him againe with further message from the duke his master within few daies after at Notingham: whither the protector from Yorke with manie gentlemen of the north countrie, to the number of six hundred horsses, was come on his waie to London-ward, & after secret mÉeting and communication had, eftsoones departed. Wherevpon at Northampton, the duke met with the protector himselfe with thrÉe hundred horsses, and from thence still continued with him partner of all his deuises; till that after his coronation, they departed (as it sÉemed) verie great frÉends at Glocester. From whense as soone as the duke came home, he so lightlie turned from him, and so highlie conspired against him, that a man would maruell whereof the change grew. And suerlie, the occasion of their variance is of diuerse men diuerselie reported.
Causes of the duke of Buckingham and K. Richards falling out.
Some haue I heard say, that the duke a little before his coronation, among other things, required of the protector the duke of Herefords lands, to the which he pretended himselfe iust inheritor. And forsomuch as the title, which he claimed by inheritance, was somwhat interlaced with the title to the crowne by the line of king Henrie before depriued, the protector conceiued such indignation, that he reiected the dukes request with manie spitefull and minatorie words. Which so wounded his heart with hatred and mistrust, that he neuer after could indure to looke aright on king Richard, but euer feared his owne life; so far foorth, that when the protector rode through London toward his coronation, he feined himselfe sicke, bicause he would not ride with him. And the other also taking it in euill part, sent him word to rise, and come ride, or he would make him be caried. Wherevpon he rode on with euill will, and that notwithstanding on the morow, rose from the feast, feining himselfe sicke, and king Richard said it was doone in hatred and despite of him.
The duke of Buckingham and king Richard mistrust each other.
And they said, that euer after continuallie, each of them liued in such hatred and distrust of other, that the duke verelie looked to haue bÉene murthered at Glocester: from which nathelesse, he in faire maner departed. But suerlie some right secret at that daie denie this: and manie right wise men thinke it vnlikelie (the dÉepe dissembling nature of both those men considered, and what nÉed in that grÉene world the protector had of the duke, and in what perill the duke stood, if he fell once in suspicion of the tyrant) that either the protector would giue the duke occasion of displeasure, or the duke the protector occasion of mistrust. And verelie, men thinke, that if king Richard had anie such opinion conceiued, he would neuer haue suffered him to escape his hands. Verie truth it is, the duke was an high minded man, and euill could beare the glorie of another; so that I haue heard of some that say they saw it, that the duke, at such time as the crowne was first set vpon the protectors head, his eie could not abide the sight thereof, but wried his head another way.
Doctor Morton bishop of Elie, & what pageants he plaied.
But men say, that he was of truth not well at ease, and that both to king Richard well knowne, and not euill taken; nor anie demand of the dukes vncourteouslie reiected; but he both with great gifts, and high behests, in most louing and trustie maner departed at Glocester. But soone after his comming home to Brecknocke, hauing there in his custodie by the commandement of king Richard doctor Morton bishop of Elie, who (as ye before heard) was taken in the councell at the Tower, waxed with him familiar, whose wisedome abused his pride to his owne deliuerance, and the dukes destruction. The bishop was a man of great naturall wit, verie well learned, and honorable in behauior, lacking no wise waies to win fauour. He had bÉene fast vpon the part of king Henrie, while that part was in wealth; and nathelesse left it not, nor forsooke it in wo, but fled the realme with the quÉene & the prince, while king Edward had the king in prison, neuer came home, but to the field.
The high honour of doctor Morton.
After which lost, and that part vtterlie subdued, the other (for his fast faith and wisedome) not onelie was content to receiue him, but also wooed him to come, and had him from thencefoorth both in secret trust, and verie speciall fauour, which he nothing deceiued. For he being (as yÉe haue heard) after king Edwards death, first taken by the tyrant for his truth to the king, found the meane to set this duke in his top, ioined gentlemen togither in the aid of king Henrie, deuising first the mariage betwÉene him & king Edwards daughter: by which his faith he declared the good seruice to both his masters at once, with infinit benefit to the realme by the coniunction of those two blouds in one, whose seuerall titles had long disquieted the land, he fled the realme, went to Rome, neuer minding more to meddle with the world; till the noble prince king Henrie the seuenth gat him home againe, made him archbishop of Canturburie, and chancellor of England, wherevnto the pope ioined the honour of cardinall. Thus liuing manie daies in as much honor as one man might well wish, ended them so godlie, that his death with Gods mercie well changed his life.
Bishop Mortons subtill vndermining of the duke.
This man therefore (as I was about to tell you) by the long & often alternate proofe, as well of prosperitie as aduerse fortune, had gotten by great experience (the verie mother and mistresse of wisedome) a dÉepe insight in politike worldlie drifts. Whereby perceiuing now this duke glad to commune with him, fed him with faire words, and manie pleasant praises. And perceiuing by the processe of their communications, the dukes pride now and then belking out a little breath of enuie toward the glorie of the king, and thereby fÉeling him easie to fall out if the matter were well handled: he craftilie sought the waies to pricke him forward, taking alwaies the occasion of his comming, and so kÉeping himselfe so close within his bounds, that he rather sÉemed to follow him, than to lead him. For when the duke first began to praise and boast the king, and shew how much profit the realme should take by his reigne: my lord Morton answered thus.
Suerlie, my lord, follie were it for me to lie, for if I would sweare the contrarie, your lordship would not (I wÉene) belÉeue; but that if the world would haue gone as I would haue wished, king Henries sonne had had the crowne, and not king Edward. But after that God had ordered him to lÉese it, and king Edward to reigne, I was neuer so mad that I would with a dead man striue against the quicke. So was I to king Edward a faithfull chapleine, & glad would haue bÉene that his child had succÉeded him. Howbeit, if the secret iudgment of God haue otherwise prouided, I purpose not to spurne against a pricke, nor labour to set vp that God pulleth downe. And as for the late protector and now king. And euen there he left, saieng that he had alreadie medled too much with the world, and would from that daie meddle with his booke and his beads, and no further.
Princes matters perillous to meddle in.
Then longed the duke sore to heare what he would haue said, bicause he ended with the king, and there so suddenlie stopped, and exhorted him so familiarlie betwÉene them twaine to be bold to saie whatsoeuer he thought; whereof he faithfullie promised there should neuer come hurt, and peraduenture more good than he would wÉene; and that himselfe intended to vse his faithfull secret aduise & counsell, which (he said) was the onelie cause for which he procured of the king to haue him in his custodie, where he might reckon himselfe at home, and else had he bÉene put in the hands of them with whome he should not haue found the like fauour. The bishop right humblie thanked him, and said: In good faith my lord, I loue not to talke much of princes, as a thing not all out of perill, though the word be without fault: forsomuch as it shall not be taken as the partie ment it, but as it pleaseth the prince to construe it.
And euer I thinke on Aesops tale, that when the lion had proclaimed that (on paine of death) there should no horned beast abide in that wood: one that had in his forehed a bunce of flesh, fled awaie a great pace. The fox that saw him run so fast, asked him whither he made all that hast? And he answered, In faith I neither wote, nor recke, so I were once hence, bicause of this proclamation made of horned beasts. What foole (quoth the fox) thou maiest abide well inough: the lion ment not by thÉe, for it is no horne that is in thine head. No marie (quoth he) that wote I well inough. But what and he call it an horne, where am I then? The duke laughed merilie at the tale, and said; My lord, I warrant you, neither the lion nor the bore shall pike anie matter at anie thing hÉere spoken: for it shall neuer come nÉere their eare.
In good faith sir (said the bishop) if it did, the thing that I was about to say, taken as well as (afore God) I ment it, could deserue but thanke: and yet taken as I wÉene it would, might happen to turne me to little good, and you to lesser. Then longed the duke yet much more to wit what it was. Wherevpon the bishop said; In good faith (my lord) as for the late protector, sith he is now king in possession, I purpose not to dispute his title; but for the weale of this realme, whereof his grace hath now the gouernance, and whereof I am my selfe one poore member, I was about to wish, that to those good habilities whereof he hath alreadie right manie, little nÉeding my praise, it might yet haue pleased God, for the better store, to haue giuen him some of such other excellent vertues, mÉet for the rule of a realme, as our Lord hath planted in the person of your grace: and there left againe.
Here endeth sir Thomas More, & this that followeth is taken out of master Hall.
The duke somewhat maruelling at his sudden pauses, as though they were but parentheses, with a high countenance said: My lord, I euidentlie perceiue, and no lesse note your often breathing, and sudden stopping in your communication; so that to my intelligence, your words neither come to anie direct or perfect sentence in conclusion, whereby either I might perceiue and haue knowledge, what your inward intent is now toward the king, or what affection you beare toward me. For the comparison of good qualities ascribed to vs both (for the which I my selfe acknowledge and recognise to haue none, nor looke for no praise of anie creature for the same) maketh me not a little to muse, thinking that you haue some other priuie imagination, by loue or by grudge, ingrauen and imprinted in your heart, which for feare you dare not, or for childish shamefastnesse you be abashed to disclose and reueale; and speciallie to mÉe being your frÉend, which on my honor doo assure you, to be as secret in this case, as the deafe and dumbe person is to the singer, or the trÉe to the hunter.
Bishop Morton buildeth vpō the dukes ambition.
The bishop being somewhat bolder, considering the dukes promise, but most of all animated and incouraged bicause he knew the duke desirous to bÉe exalted and magnified; and also he perceiued the inward hatred and priuie rancor which he bare toward king Richard: was now boldened to open his stomach euen to the verie bottome, intending thereby to compasse how to destroie, and vtterlie confound king Richard, and to depriue him of his dignitie roiall; else to set the duke so on fire with the desire of ambition, that he himselfe might be safe and escape out of all danger and perill. Which thing he brought shortlie to conclusion, both to the kings destruction, and the dukes confusion, and to his owne safegard, and finallie to his high promotion.
And so (as I said before) vpon trust and confidence of the dukes promise, the bishop said: My singular good lord, since the time of my captiuitie, which being in your graces custodie, I may rather call it a liberall libertie, more than a streict imprisonment, in auoiding idlenesse, mother and nourisher of all vices, in reading bookes and ancient pamphlets I haue found this sentence written, that no man is borne frÉe, and in libertie of himselfe onelie: for one part of dutie he oweth or should owe to his parents for his procreation, by a verie naturall instinct and filiall courtesie: another part to his frÉends and kinsfolke; for proximitie of bloud and naturall amitie dooth euerie dutie chalenge and demand: but the natiue countrie, in the which he tasted first the swÉet aires of this pleasant and flattering world after his natiuitie, demandeth as a debt by a naturall bond, neither to be forgotten, nor yet to be put in obliuion.
The duke of Buckingham highlie commended.
Which saieng causeth me to consider in what case this realme my natiue countrie now standeth, and in what estate and assurance (before this time) it hath continued: what gouernour we now haue, and what ruler we might haue. For I plainelie perceiue the realme being in this case, must nÉeds decaie, and be brought to vtter confusion, and finall extermination. But one hope I haue incorporat in my brest, that is, when I consider, and in my mind doo diligentlie remember, and dailie behold your noble personage, your iustice, and indifferencie, your feruent zeale, and ardent loue toward your naturall countrie, and in like manner, the loue of your countrie toward you, the great learning, pregnant wit, and goodlie eloquence, which so much dooth abound in the person of your grace, I must nÉeds thinke this realme fortunate, yea twise more than fortunate, which hath such a prince in store, mÉet and apt to be a gouernour, in whose person (being indued with so manie princelie qualities) consisteth and resteth the verie vndoubted similitude and image of true honour.
Dispraise of the lord protector or king in esse.
But on the other side, when I call to memorie the good qualities of the late protector and now called king, so violated and subuerted by tyrannie, so changed and altered by vsurped authoritie, so clouded and shadowed by blind and insatiable ambition: yea, and so suddenlie (in manner by a metamorphosis) transformed from politike ciuilitie, to detestable tyrannie: I must nÉeds saie, & iustlie affirme, that he is neither mÉet to be a king of so noble a realme, nor so famous a realme mÉet to be gouerned by such a tyrant whose kingdome (if it were of more amplenesse than it is) could not long continue; neither would the Lord suffer him in his bloudthirstines to abuse the holie and diuine estate of a prince by the cruell title of tyrannie. For such he will ouerthrow, yea he will bring most horrible slaughter vpō them, as it is prophesied:
Impius ad summos quamuis ascendat honores
Aspice quas clades tempora sÆua vehent.
Was not his first enterprise to obteine the crowne begun and incepted by the murther of diuerse noble, valiant true, and vertuous, personages? O holie beginning to come to a mischÉeuous ending! Did he not secondarilie procÉed (contrarie to all lawes of honestie) shamefullie against his owne naturall mother, being a woman of much honour and more vertue, declaring hir openlie to be a woman giuen to carnall affection, and dissolute liuing? Which thing if it had bÉene true, as it was not indÉed, euerie good & naturall child would haue rather mummed at it, than haue blasted it abroad, and especiallie she being aliue. Declaring furthermore his two brethren, and his two nephues to be bastards, and to be borne in adulterie: yet was he not with all this content.