The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol. I., Part C.
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Title: The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol. I., Part C.
Author: David Hume
Release date: September 8, 2006 [eBook #19213]
Most recently updated: September 1, 2016
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THREE VOLUMES, VOL. I., PART C. ***
Produced by David Widger and the Online Distributed
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THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
FROM THE INVASION OF JULIUS CÆSAR
TO THE END OF THE REIGN OF JAMES THE SECOND,
BY DAVID HUME, ESQ.
1688
London: James S. Virtue, City Road and Ivy Lane
New York: 26 John Street
1860
And
Philadelphia:
J. B. Lippincott & Co.
March 17, 1901
In Three Volumes:
VOLUME ONE: The History Of England From The Invasion Of Julius Cæsar To
The End Of The Reign Of James The Second............ By David Hume, Esq.
VOLUME TWO: Continued from the Reign of William and Mary to the Death of
George II........................................... by Tobias Smollett.
VOLUME THREE: From the Accession of George III. to the Twenty-Third Year
of the Reign of Queen Victoria............... by E. Farr and E.H. Nolan.
VOLUME ONE
Part C.
HENRY VII. TO MARY
CHAPTER XXIV.
[Illustration: 1-309-henry7.jpg HENRY VII.]
HENRY VII.
{1485.} THE victory which the earl of Richmond gained at Bosworth was
entirely decisive; being attended, as well with the total rout and
dispersion of the royal army, as with the death of the king himself. Joy
for this great success suddenly prompted the soldiers, in the field of
battle, to bestow on their victorious general the appellation of king,
which he had not hitherto assumed; and the acclamations of “Long live
Henry VII.,” by a natural and unpremeditated movement, resounded from
all quarters. To bestow some appearance of formality on this species
of military election, Sir William Stanley brought a crown of ornament,
which Richard wore in battle, and which had been found among the spoils;
and he put it on the head of the victor. Henry himself remained not
in suspense; but immediately, without hesitation, accepted of the
magnificent present which was tendered him. He was come to the crisis
of his fortune; and being obliged suddenly to determine himself, amidst
great difficulties which he must have frequently revolved in his mind,
he chose that part which his ambition suggested to him, and to which he
seemed to be invited by his present success.
There were many titles on which Henry could found his right to the
crown; but no one of them free from great objections, if considered with
respect either to justice or to policy.
During some years, Henry had been regarded as heir to the house of
Lancaster by the party attached to that family; but the title of the
house of Lancaster itself was generally thought to be very ill founded.
Henry IV., who had first raised it to royal dignity, had never clearly
defined the foundation of his claim; and while he plainly invaded the
order of succession, he had not acknowledged the election of the people.
The parliament, it is true, had often recognized the title of the
Lancastrian princes; but these votes had little authority, being
considered as instances of complaisance towards a family in possession
of present power; and they had accordingly been often reversed during
the late prevalence of the house of York. Prudent men also, who had been
willing for the sake of peace to submit to any established authority,
desired not to see the claims of that family revived; claims which must
produce many convulsions at present, and which disjointed for the future
the whole system of hereditary right. Besides, allowing the title of the
house of Lancaster to be legal, Henry himself was not the true heir of
that family; and nothing but the obstinacy natural to faction, which
never without reluctance will submit to an antagonist, could have
engaged the Lancastrians to adopt the earl of Richmond as their head.
His mother indeed, Margaret, countess of Richmond, was sole daughter
and heir of the duke of Somerset, sprung from John of Gaunt, duke of
Lancaster: but the descent of the Somerset line was itself illegitimate,
and even adulterous. And though the duke of Lancaster had obtained
the legitimation of his natural children by a patent from Richard II.,
confirmed in parliament, it might justly be doubted whether this deed
could bestow any title to the crown: since in the patent itself all the
privileges conferred by it are fully enumerated, and the succession to
the kingdom is expressly excluded.[*] In all settlements of the crown
made during the reigns of the Lancastrian princes, the line of Somerset
had been entirely overlooked; and it was not till the failure of the
legitimate branch, that men had paid any attention to their claim. And
to add to the general dissatisfaction against Henry’s title, his mother,
from whom he derived all his right was still alive; and evidently
preceded him in the order of succession.
* Rymer, tom. vii. p. 849. Coke’s Inst. iv. Inst. part i. p.
37.
His title of the house of York, both from the plain reason of the case,
and from the late popular government of Edward IV., had universally
obtained the preference in the sentiments of the people; and Henry might
ingraft his claim on the rights of that family, by his intended marriage
with the princess Elizabeth, the heir of it; a marriage which he had
solemnly promised to celebrate, and to the expectation of which he had
chiefly owed all his past successes. But many reasons dissuaded Henry
from adopting this expedient. Were he to receive the crown only in right
of his consort, his power, he knew, would be very limited; and he must
expect rather to enjoy the bare title of king by a sort of courtesy,
than possess the real authority which belongs to it. Should the princess
die before him without issue, he must descend from the throne, and give
place to the next in succession; and even if his bed should be blest
with offspring, it seemed dangerous to expect that filial piety in his
children would prevail over the ambition of obtaining present possession
of regal power. An act of parliament, indeed, might easily be procured
to settle the crown on him during life; but Henry knew how much superior
the claim of succession by blood was to the authority of an assembly,[*]
which had always been overborne by violence in the shock of contending
titles, and which had ever been more governed by the conjunctures of the
times, than by any consideration derived from reason or public interest.
There was yet a third foundation on which Henry might rest his claim,
the right of conquest, by his victory over Richard, the present
possessor of the crown. But besides that Richard himself was deemed
no better than a usurper, the army which fought against him consisted
chiefly of Englishmen; and a right of conquest over England could
never be established by such a victory. Nothing also would give greater
umbrage to the nation than a claim of this nature; which might be
construed as an abolition of all their rights and privileges, and the
establishment of absolute authority in the sovereign.[**]
*Bacon in Kennet’s Complete History, p. 579.
**Bacon, p. 579.
William himself, the Norman, though at the head of a powerful and
victorious army of foreigners, had at first declined the invidious
title of Conqueror; and it was not till the full establishment of his
authority, that he had ventured to advance so violent and destructive a
pretension.
But Henry was sensible that there remained another foundation of power,
somewhat resembling the right of conquest, namely, present possession;
and that this title, guarded by vigor and abilities, would be sufficient
to secure perpetual possession of the throne. He had before him the
example of Henry IV., who, supported by no better pretension, had
subdued many insurrections, and had been able to transmit the crown
peaceably to his posterity. He could perceive that this claim, which had
been perpetuated through three generations of the family of Lancaster,
might still have subsisted, notwithstanding the preferable title of the
house of York, had not the sceptre devolved into the hands of Henry
VI., which were too feeble to sustain it. Instructed by this recent
experience, Henry was determined to put himself in possession of regal
authority, and to show all opponents, that nothing but force of arms and
a successful war should be able to expel him. His claim as heir to the
house of Lancaster he was resolved to advance, and never allow it to
be discussed; and he hoped that this right, favored by the partisans of
that family, and seconded by present power, would secure him a perpetual
and an independent authority.
These views of Henry are not exposed to much blame; because founded on
good policy, and even on a species of necessity; but there entered into
all his measures and counsels another motive, which admits not of the
same apology. The violent contentions which, during so long a period,
had been maintained between the rival families, and the many sanguinary
revenges which they had alternately taken on each other, had inflamed
the opposite factions to a high pitch of animosity, Henry himself, who
had seen most of his near friends and relations perish in battle or
by the executioner, and who had been exposed in his own person to many
hardships and dangers, had imbibed a violent antipathy to the York
party, which no time or experience were ever able to efface. Instead
of embracing the present happy opportunity of abolishing these fatal
distinctions, of uniting his title with that of his consort, and of
bestowing favor indiscriminately on the friends of both families, he
carried to the throne all the partialities which belong to the head of
a faction, and even the passions which are carefully guarded against by
every true politician in that situation. To exalt the Lancastrian party,
to depress the adherents of the house of York, were still the favorite
objects of his pursuit; and through the whole course of his reign, he
never forgot these early prepossessions. Incapable from his natural
temper of a more enlarged and more benevolent system of policy, he
exposed himself to many present inconveniences, by too anxiously
guarding against that future possible event, which might disjoin his
title from that of the princess whom he espoused. And while he treated
the Yorkists as enemies, he soon rendered them such, and taught them to
discuss that right to the crown, which he so carefully kept separate,
and to perceive its weakness and invalidity.
To these passions of Henry, as well as to his suspicious politics, we
are to ascribe the measures which he embraced two days after the battle
of Bosworth. Edward Plantagenet, earl of Warwick, son of the duke of
Clarence, was detained in a kind of confinement at Sherif-Hutton, in
Yorkshire, by the jealousy of his uncle Richard, whose title to the
throne was inferior to that of the young prince. Warwick had now reason
to expect better treatment, as he was no obstacle to the succession
either of Henry or Elizabeth; and from a youth of such tender years no
danger could reasonably be apprehended. But Sir Robert Willoughby was
despatched by Henry with orders to take him from Sherif-Hutton, to
convey him to the Tower, and to detain him in close custody.[*] The same
messenger carried directions, that the princess Elizabeth, who had been
confined to the same place, should be conducted to London, in order to
meet Henry, and there celebrate her nuptials.
Henry himself set out for the capital, and advanced by slow journeys.
Not to rouse the jealousy of the people, he took care to avoid all
appearance of military triumph; and so to restrain the insolence
of victory, that every thing about him bore the appearance of an
established monarch, making a peaceable progress through his dominions,
rather than of a prince who had opened his way to the throne by force of
arms. The acclamations of the people were every where loud, and no less
sincere and hearty. Besides that a young and victorious prince, on his
accession, was naturally the object of popularity, the nation promised
themselves great felicity from the new scene which opened before them.
* Bacon, p. 579. Polyd. Virg. p. 565.
During the course of near a whole century, the kingdom had been laid
waste by domestic wars and convulsions; and if at any time the noise of
arms had ceased, the sound of faction and discontent still threatened
new disorders. Henry, by his marriage with Elizabeth, seemed to insure a
union of the contending titles of the two families; and having prevailed
over a hated tyrant, who had anew disjointed the succession even of the
house of York, and had filled his own family with blood and murder,
he was every where attended with the unfeigned favor of the people.
Numerous and splendid troops of gentry and nobility accompanied
his progress. The mayor and companies of London received him as he
approached the city; the crowds of people and citizens were zealous
in their expressions of satisfaction. But Henry, amidst this general
effusion of joy, discovered still the stateliness and reserve of his
temper, which made him scorn to court popularity: he entered London in
a close chariot, and would not gratify the people with a sight of their
new sovereign.
But the king did not so much neglect the favor of the people, as
to delay giving them assurances of his marriage with the princess
Elizabeth, which he knew to be so passionately desired by the nation.
On his leaving Brittany, he had artfully dropped some hints that, if he
should succeed in his enterprise, and obtain the crown of England,
he would espouse Anne, the heir of that duchy; and the report of this
engagement had already reached England, and had begotten anxiety in
the people, and even in Elizabeth herself. Henry took care to dissipate
these apprehensions, by solemnly renewing, before the council and
principal nobility, the promise which he had already given to celebrate
his nuptials with the English princess. But though bound by honor,
as well as by interest, to complete this alliance, he was resolved to
postpone it till the ceremony of his own coronation should be finished,
and till his title should be recognized by parliament. Still anxious to
support his personal and hereditary right to the throne, he dreaded lest
a preceding marriage with the princess should imply a participation of
sovereignty in her, and raise doubts of his own title by the house of
Lancaster.
There raged at that time in London, and other parts of the kingdom,
a species of malady unknown to any other age or nation, the sweating
sickness, which occasioned the sudden death of great multitudes; though
it seemed not to be propagated by any contagious infection, but arose
from the general disposition of the air and of the human body. In less
than twenty-four hours the patient commonly died or recovered, but when
the pestilence had exerted its fury for a few weeks, it was observed,
either from alterations in the air, or from a more proper regimen which
had been discovered, to be considerably abated.[*] Preparations were
then made for the ceremony of Henry’s coronation. In order to heighten
the splendor of that spectacle, he bestowed the rank of knight banneret
on twelve persons; and he conferred peerages on three. Jasper, earl of
Pembroke, his uncle, was created duke of Bedford; Thomas Lord Stanley,
his father-in-law, earl of Derby; and Edward Courtney, earl of
Devonshire. At the coronation, likewise, there appeared a new
institution, which the king had established for security as well as
pomp, a band of fifty archers, who were termed yeomen of the guard. But
lest the people should take umbrage at this unusual symptom of jealousy
in the prince, as if it implied a personal diffidence of his subjects,
he declared the institution to be perpetual. The ceremony of coronation
was performed by Cardinal Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury.
The parliament being assembled at Westminster, the majority immediately
appeared to be devoted partisans of Henry; all persons of another
disposition either declining to stand in those dangerous times, or being
obliged to dissemble their principles and inclinations. The Lancastrian
party had every where been successful in the elections; and even many
had been returned who, during the prevalence of the house of York, had
been exposed to the rigor of law, and had been condemned by sentence
of attainder and outlawry. Their right to take seats in the house being
questioned, the case was referred to all the judges, who assembled in
the exchequer chamber, in order to deliberate on so delicate a subject.
The opinion delivered was prudent, and contained a just temperament
between law and expediency.[**] The judges determined, that the members
attainted should forbear taking their seat till an act were passed for
the reversal of their attainder. There was no difficulty in obtaining
this act; and in it were comprehended a hundred and seven persons of the
king’s party.[***]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 567.
** Bacon, p. 661.
*** Rot. Parl. 1 Henry VII. n. 2, 3, 4-15, 17, 26-65.
But a scruple was started of a nature still more important. The king
himself had been attainted; and his right of succession to the crown
might thence be exposed to some doubt The judges extricated themselves
from this dangerous question by asserting it as a maxim, “That the crown
takes away all defects and stops in blood; and that from the time
the king assumed royal authority, the fountain was cleared, and all
attainders and corruptions of blood discharged.” [*] Besides that the
case, from its urgent necessity, admitted of no deliberation, the judges
probably thought that no sentence of a court of judicature had authority
sufficient to bar the right of succession; that the heir of the crown
was commonly exposed to such jealousy as might often occasion stretches
of law and justice against him; and that a prince might even be engaged
in unjustifiable measures during his predecessor’s reign, without
meriting on that account to be excluded from the throne, which was his
birthright.
With a parliament so obsequious, the king could not fail of obtaining
whatever act of settlement he was pleased to require. He seems only to
have entertained some doubt within himself on what claim he should found
his pretensions. In his speech to the parliament, he mentioned his just
title by hereditary right: but lest that title should not be esteemed
sufficient, he subjoined his claim by the judgment of God, who had given
him victory over his enemies. And again, lest this pretension should be
interpreted as assuming a right of conquest, he insured to his subjects
the full enjoyment of their former properties and possessions.
The entail of the crown was drawn according to the sense of the king,
and probably in words dictated by him. He made no mention in it of
the princess Elizabeth, nor of any branch of her family: but in other
respects the act was compiled with sufficient reserve and moderation.
He did not insist that it should contain a declaration or recognition of
his preceding right; as, on the other hand, he avoided the appearance of
a new law or ordinance. He chose a middle course which, as is generally
unavoidable in such cases, was not entirely free from uncertainty and
obscurity. It was voted, “That the inheritance of the crown should rest,
remain, and abide in the king:” [**] but whether as rightful heir, or
only as present possessor, was not determined.
* Bacon, p. 581.
** Bacon, p. 581.
In like manner, Henry was contented that the succession should be
secured to the heirs of his body; but he pretended not, in case of their
failure, to exclude the house of York or to give the preference to that
of Lancaster: he left that great point ambiguous for the present, and
trusted that, if it should ever become requisite to determine it, future
incidents would open the way for the decision.
But even after all these precautions, the king was so little satisfied
with his own title, that in the following year, he applied to papal
authority for a confirmation of it; and as the court of Rome gladly laid
hold of all opportunities which the imprudence, weakness, or necessities
of princes afforded it to extend its influence, Innocent VIII., the
reigning pope, readily granted a bull, in whatever terms the king
was pleased to desire. All Henry’s titles, by succession, marriage,
parliamentary choice, even conquest, are there enumerated; and to the
whole the sanction of religion is added; excommunication is denounced
against every one who should either disturb him in the present
possession, or the heirs of his body in the future succession of the
crown; and from this penalty no criminal, except in the article of
death, could be absolved but by the pope himself, or his special
commissioners. It is difficult to imagine that the security derived from
this bull could be a compensation for the defect which it betrayed in
Henry’s title, and for the danger of thus inviting the pope to interpose
in these concerns.
It was natural, and even laudable in Henry to reverse the attainders
which had passed against the partisans of the house of Lancaster:
but the revenges which he exercised against the adherents of the York
family, to which he was so soon to be allied, cannot be considered in
the same light. Yet the parliament, at his instigation, passed an act
of attainder against the late king himself, against the duke of Norfolk,
the earl of Surrey, Viscount Lovel, the lords Zouche and Ferrars of
Chartley, Sir Walter and Sir James Harrington, Sir William Berkeley,
Sir Humphrey Stafford, Catesby, and about twenty other gentlemen who
had fought on Richard’s side in the battle of Bosworth. How men could be
guilty of treason by supporting the king in possession against the
earl of Richmond, who assumed not the title of king, it is not easy to
conceive; and nothing but a servile complaisance in the parliament could
have engaged them to make this stretch of justice. Nor was it a small
mortification to the people in general, to find that the king, prompted
either by avarice or resentment could, in the very beginning of his
reign, so far violate the cordial union which had previously been
concerted between the parties, and to the expectation of which he had
plainly owed his succession to the throne.
The king, having gained so many points of consequence from the
parliament, thought it not expedient to demand any supply from them,
which the profound peace enjoyed by the nation, and the late forfeiture
of Richard’s adherents, seemed to render somewhat superfluous. The
parliament, however, conferred on him during life the duty of tonnage
and poundage, which had been enjoyed in the same manner by some of his
immediate predecessors; and they added, before they broke up, other
money bills of no great moment. The king, on his part, made returns
of grace and favor to his people. He published his royal proclamation,
offering pardon to all such as had taken arms, or formed any attempts
against him, provided they submitted themselves to mercy by a certain
day, and took the usual oath of fealty and allegiance. Upon this
proclamation many came out of their sanctuaries; and the minds of men
were every where much quieted. Henry chose to take wholly to himself
the merit of an act of grace so agreeable to the nation, rather than
communicate it with the parliament, (as was his first intention,) by
passing a bill to that purpose. The earl of Surrey, however, though he
had submitted, and delivered himself into the king’s hands, was sent
prisoner to the Tower.
During this parliament, the king also bestowed favors and honors on some
particular persons who were attached to him. Edward Stafford, eldest son
of the duke of Buckingham attainted in the late reign, was restored
to the honors of his family, as well as to his fortune, which was very
ample. This generosity, so unusual in Henry, was the effect of his
gratitude to the memory of Buckingham, who had first concerted the plan
of his elevation, and who by his own ruin had made way for that great
event. Chandos of Brittany was created earl of Bath, Sir Giles Daubeny,
Lord Daubeny, and Sir Robert Willoughby, Lord Broke. These were all
the titles of nobility conferred by the king during this session of
parliament.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 566
But the ministers whom Henry most trusted and favored were not chosen
from among the nobility, or even from among the laity. John Morton and
Richard Fox, two clergymen persons of industry, vigilance, and capacity,
were the men to whom he chiefly confided his affairs and secret
counsels. They had shared with him all his former dangers and
distresses; and he now took care to make them participate in his good
fortune. They were both called to the privy council; Morton was restored
to the bishopric of Ely, Fox was created bishop of Exeter. The former,
soon after, upon the death of Bourchier, was raised to the see of
Canterbury. The latter was made privy seal; and successively bishop
of Bath and Wells, Durham, and Winchester. For Henry, as Lord Bacon
observes, loved to employ and advance prelates; because, having rich
bishoprics to bestow, it was easy for him to reward their services: and
it was his maxim to raise them by slow steps, and make them first pass
through the interior sees.[*] He probably expected that, as they were
naturally more dependent on him than the nobility, who during that age
enjoyed possessions and jurisdictions dangerous to royal authority, so
the prospect of further elevation would render them still more active in
his service, and more obsequious to his commands.
* Bacon, p. 582.
{1486.} In presenting the bill of tonnage and poundage, the parliament,
anxious to preserve the legal, undisputed succession to the crown, had
petitioned Henry, with demonstrations of the greatest zeal, to espouse
the princess Elizabeth; but they covered their true reason under the
dutiful pretence of their desire to have heirs of his body. He now
thought in earnest of satisfying the minds of his people in that
particular. His marriage was celebrated at London; and that with
greater appearance of universal joy than either his first entry or his
coronation. Henry remarked with much displeasure this general favor
borne to the house of York. The suspicions which arose from it not only
disturbed his tranquillity during his whole reign, but bred disgust
towards his consort herself, and poisoned all his domestic enjoyments.
Though virtuous, amiable, and obsequious to the last degree, she never
met with a proper return of affection, or even of complaisance, from her
husband; and the malignant ideas of faction still, in his sullen mind,
prevailed over all the sentiments of conjugal tenderness.
The king had been carried along with such a tide of success ever since
his arrival in England, that he thought nothing could withstand the
fortune and authority which attended him.
He now resolved to make a progress into the north, where the friends of
the house of York, and even the partisans of Richard, were numerous, in
hopes of curing, by his presence and conversation, the prejudices of
the malecontents. When he arrived at Nottingham, he heard that Viscount
Lovel, with Sir Humphrey Stafford, and Thomas his brother, had secretly
withdrawn themselves from their sanctuary at Colchester: but this news
appeared not to him of such importance as to stop his journey; and he
proceeded forward to York. He there heard that the Staffords had levied
an army, and were marching to besiege the city of Worcester; and that
Lovel, at the head of three or four thousand men, was approaching to
attack him in York. Henry was not dismayed with this intelligence. His
active courage, full of resources, immediately prompted him to find
the proper remedy. Though surrounded with enemies in these disaffected
counties, he assembled a small body of troops, in whom he could confide;
and he put them under the command of the duke of Bedford. He joined to
them all his own attendants; but he found that this hasty armament was
more formidable by their spirit and their zealous attachment to him,
than by the arms or military stores with which they were provided. He
therefore gave Bedford orders not to approach the enemy; but previously
to try every proper expedient to disperse them. Bedford published a
general promise of pardon to the rebels, which had a greater effect
on their leader than on his followers. Lovel, who had undertaken an
enterprise that exceeded his courage and capacity, was so terrified
with the fear of desertion among his troops, that he suddenly withdrew
himself; and after lurking some time in Lancashire, he made his escape
into Flanders, where he was protected by the duchess of Burgundy. His
army submitted to the king’s clemency; and the other rebels, hearing of
this success, raised the siege of Worcester, and dispersed themselves.
The Staffords took sanctuary in the church of Colnham, a village near
Abingdon; but as it was found that this church had not the privilege
of giving protection to rebels, they were taken thence; the elder was
executed at Tyburn; the younger, pleading that he had been misled by his
brother, obtained a pardon.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 569.
Henry’s joy for this success was followed, some time after, by the birth
of a prince, to whom he gave the name of Arthur in memory of the famous
British king of that name, from whom it was pretended the family of
Tudor derived its descent.
Though Henry had been able to defeat this hasty rebellion raised by
the relics of Richard’s partisans, his government was become in general
unpopular: the source of public discontent arose chiefly from his
prejudices against the house of York which was generally beloved by
the nation, and which, for that very reason, became every day more
the object of his hatred and jealousy. Not only a preference on all
occasions, it was observed, was given to the Lancastrians, but many
of the opposite party had been exposed to great severity, and had been
bereaved of their fortunes by acts of attainder. A general resumption
likewise had passed of all grants made by the princes of the house of
York; and though this rigor had been covered under the pretence that the
revenue was become insufficient to support the dignity of the crown, and
though the grants during the later years of Henry VI. were resumed by
the same law, yet the York party, as they were the principal sufferers
by the resumption, thought it chiefly levelled against them. The
severity exercised against the earl of Warwick begat compassion for
youth and innocence exposed to such oppression; and his confinement in
the Tower, the very place where Edward’s children had been murdered by
their uncle, made the public expect a like catastrophe for him, and led
them to make a comparison between Henry and that detested tyrant. And
when it was remarked that the queen herself met with harsh treatment,
and even after the birth of a son, was not admitted to the honor of
a public coronation, Henry’s prepossessions were then concluded to be
inveterate, and men became equally obstinate in their disgust to his
government. Nor was the manner and address of the king calculated to
cure these prejudices contracted against his administration; but had
in every thing a tendency to promote fear, or at best reverence, rather
than good will and affection.[*] While the high idea entertained of
his policy and vigor retained the nobility and men of character in
obedience, the effects of his unpopular government soon appeared, by
incidents of an extraordinary nature.
* Bacon, p. 583.
There lived in Oxford one Richard Simon, a priest, who possessed
some subtlety, and still more enterprise and temerity. This man had
entertained the design of disturbing Henry’s government, by raising a
pretender to his crown, and for that purpose he cast his eyes on Lambert
Simnel, a youth of fifteen years of age, who was son of a baker, and
who, being endowed with understanding above his years, and address
above his condition, seemed well fitted to personate a prince of royal
extraction. A report had been spread among the people, and received,
with great avidity, that Richard, duke of York, second son of Edward
IV., had, by a secret escape, saved himself from the cruelty of his
uncle, and lay somewhere concealed in England. Simon, taking advantage
of this rumor, had at first instructed his pupil to assume that name,
which he found to be so fondly cherished by the public: but hearing
afterwards a new report, that Warwick had made his escape from the
Tower, and observing that this news was attended with no less general
satisfaction, he changed the plan of his imposture, and made Simnel
personate that unfortunate prince.[*] Though the youth was qualified by
nature for the part which he was instructed to act, yet was it remarked,
that he was better informed in circumstances relating to the royal
family, particularly in the adventures of the earl of Warwick, than he
could be supposed to have learned from one of Simon’s condition: and it
was thence conjectured, that persons of higher rank, partisans of the
house of York, had laid the plan of this conspiracy, and had conveyed
proper instructions to the actors. The queen dowager herself was exposed
to suspicion; and it was indeed the general opinion, however unlikely
it might seem, that she had secretly given her consent to the imposture.
This woman was of a very restless disposition. Finding that, instead
of receiving the reward of her services in contributing to Henry’s
elevation, she herself was fallen into absolute insignificance, her
daughter treated with severity, and all her friends brought under
subjection, she had conceived the most violent animosity against him,
and had resolved to make him feel the effects of her resentment. She
knew that the impostor, however successful, might easily at last be
set aside; and if a way could be found at his risk to subvert the
government, she hoped that a scene might be opened, which, though
difficult at present exactly to foresee, would gratify her revenge, and
be on the whole less irksome to her than that slavery and contempt to
which she was now reduced.[**]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 569. 570.
** Polyd. Virg. p. 570.
But whatever care Simon might take to convey instruction to his pupil
Simnel, he was sensible that the imposture would not bear a close
inspection; and he was therefore determined to open the first public
scene of it in Ireland. That island, which was zealously attached to
the house of York, and bore an affectionate regard to the memory
of Clarence, Warwick’s father, who had been their lieutenant, was
improvidently allowed by Henry to remain in the same condition in
which he found it; and all the counsellors and officers, who had been
appointed by his predecessor, still retained their authority. No sooner
did Simnel present himself to Thomas Fitzgerald, earl of Kildare, the
deputy, and claim his protection as the unfortunate Warwick, than that
credulous nobleman, not suspecting so bold an imposture, gave attention
to him, and began to consult some persons of rank with regard to this
extraordinary incident. These he found even more sanguine in their zeal
and belief than himself: and in proportion as the story diffused itself
among those of lower condition, it became the object of still greater
passion and credulity, till the people in Dublin with one consent
tendered their allegiance to Simnel, as to the true Plantagenet. Fond of
a novelty which flattered their natural propension, they overlooked
the daughters of Edward IV., who stood before Warwick in the order
of succession; they paid the pretended prince attendance as their
sovereign, lodged him in the Castle of Dublin, crowned him with a diadem
taken from a statue of the Virgin, and publicly proclaimed him king, by
the appellation of Edward VI. The whole island followed the example of
the capital; and not a sword was any where drawn in Henry’s quarrel.
When this intelligence was conveyed to the king, it reduced him to some
perplexity. Determined always to face his enemies in person, he yet
scrupled at present to leave England, where he suspected the conspiracy
was first framed, and where he knew many persons of condition, and the
people in general, were much disposed to give it countenance. In order
to dis cover the secret source of the contrivance, and take measures
against this open revolt, he held frequent consultations with his
ministers and counsellors, and laid plans for a vigorous defence of his
authority, and the suppression of his enemies.
The first event which followed these deliberations gave surprise to the
public; it was the seizure of the queen dowager the forfeiture of all
her lands and revenue, and the close confinement of her person in the
nunnery of Bermondsey. The act of authority was covered with a very thin
pretence. It was alleged that, notwithstanding the secret agreement to
marry her daughter to Henry, she had yet yielded to the solicitations
and menaces of Richard, and had delivered that princess and her sisters
into the hands of the tyrant. This crime, which was now become obsolete,
and might admit of alleviations, was therefore suspected not to be the
real cause of the severity with which she was treated; and men believed
that the king, unwilling to accuse so near a relation of a conspiracy
against him, had cloaked his vengeance or precaution under color of
an offence known to the whole world.[*] They were afterwards the more
confirmed in this suspicion, when they found that the unfortunate queen,
though she survived this disgrace several years, was never treated with
any more lenity, but was allowed to end her life in poverty, solitude,
and confinement.
* Bacon, p. 583, Polyd. Virg. p. 571.
The next measure of the king’s was of a less exceptionable nature.
He ordered that Warwick should be taken from the Tower, be led in
procession through the streets of London, be conducted to St. Paul’s,
and there exposed to the view of the whole people. He even gave
directions, that some men of rank, attached to the house of York, and
best acquainted with the person of this prince, should approach him and
converse with him: and he trusted that these, being convinced of the
absurd imposture of Simnel, would put a stop to the credulity of the
populace. The expedient had its effect in England: but in Ireland the
people still persisted in their revolt, and zealously retorted on the
king the reproach of propagating an imposture, and of having shown a
counterfeit Warwick to the public.
Henry had soon reason to apprehend, that the design against him was
not laid on such slight foundations as the absurdity of the contrivance
seemed to indicate. John, earl of Lincoln, son of John de la Pole, duke
of Suffolk, and of Elizabeth, eldest sister to Edward IV., was engaged
to take part in the conspiracy. This nobleman, who possessed capacity
and courage, had entertained very aspiring views; and his ambition was
encouraged by the known intentions of his uncle Richard, who had formed
a design, in case he himself should die without issue, of declaring
Lincoln successor to the crown. The king’s jealousy against all eminent
persons of the York party, and his rigor towards Warwick, had further
struck Lincoln with apprehensions, and made him resolve to seek
for safety in the most dangerous counsels. Having fixed a secret
correspondence with Sir Thomas Broughton, a man of great interest in
Lancashire, he retired to Flanders, where Lovel had arrived a little
before him; and he lived during some time in the court of his aunt the
duchess of Burgundy, by whom he had been invited over.
Margaret, widow of Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy, not having any
children of her own, attached herself with an entire friendship to her
daughter-in-law, married to Maximilian, archduke of Austria; and after
the death of that princess, she persevered in her affection to Philip
and Margaret, her children, and occupied herself in the care of their
education and of their persons. By her virtuous conduct and demeanor
she had acquired great authority among the Flemings and lived with much
dignity, as well as economy, upon that ample dowry which she inherited
from her husband. The resentments of this princess were no less warm
than her friendships; and that spirit of faction, which it is so
difficult for a social and sanguine temper to guard against, had taken
strong possession of her heart, and intrenched somewhat on the probity
which shone forth in the other parts of her character. Hearing of the
malignant jealousy entertained by Henry against her family, and
his oppression of all its partisans, she was moved with the highest
indignation; and she determined to make him repent of that enmity to
which so many of her friends, without any reason or necessity, had
fallen victims.
{1487.} After consulting with Lincoln and Lovel she hired a body of two
thousand veteran Germans, under the command of Martin Swart, a brave
and experienced officer; [*] and sent them over, together with these two
noblemen, to join Simnel in Ireland. The countenance given by persons
of such high rank, and the accession of this military force, much raised
the courage of the Irish, and made them entertain the resolution of
invading England, where they believed the spirit of disaffection as
prevalent as it appeared to be in Ireland. The poverty also under which
they labored, made it impossible for them to support any longer their
new court and army, and inspired them with a strong desire of enriching
themselves by plunder and preferment in England.
* Polyd. Virg. p. 572, 573.
Henry was not ignorant of these intentions of his enemies, and he
prepared himself for defence. He ordered troops to be levied in
different parts of the kingdom, and put them under the command of the
duke of Bedford and earl of Oxford. He confined the marquis of Dorset,
who, he suspected, would resent the injuries suffered by his mother, the
queen dowager; and, to gratify the people by an appearance of devotion,
he made a pilgrimage to our lady of Walsingham, famous for miracles;
and there offered up prayers for success, and for deliverance from his
enemies.
Being informed that Simnel was landed at Foudrey in Lancashire, he drew
together his forces, and advanced towards the enemy as far as Coventry.
The rebels had entertained hopes that the disaffected counties in the
north would rise in their favor; but the people in general, averse to
join Irish and German invaders, convinced of Lambert’s imposture, and
kept in awe by the king’s reputation for success and conduct, either
remained in tranquillity, or gave assistance to the royal army. The earl
of Lincoln, therefore, who commanded the rebels, finding no hopes but
in victory, was determined to bring the matter to a speedy decision; and
the king, supported by the native courage of his temper, and emboldened
by a great accession of volunteers, who had joined him under the earl of
Shrewsbury and Lord Strange, declined not the combat. The hostile armies
met at Stoke, in the county of Nottingham, and fought a battle, which
was bloody, and more obstinately disputed than could have been expected
from the inequality of their force. All the leaders of the rebels were
resolved to conquer or to perish; and they inspired their troops
with like resolution. The Germans also, being veteran and experienced
soldiers, kept the event long doubtful; and even the Irish, though
ill-armed and almost defenceless, showed themselves not defective in
spirit and bravery. The king’s victory was purchased with loss, but was
entirely decisive. Lincoln, Broughton, and Swart perished in the field
of battle, with four thousand of their followers. As Lovel was never
more heard of, he was believed to have undergone the same fate; Simnel,
with his tutor, Simon, was taken prisoner. Simon, being a priest, was
not tried at law, and was only committed to close custody: Simnel was
too contemptible to be an object either of apprehension or resentment to
Henry. He was pardoned, and made a scullion in the king’s kitchen whence
he was afterwards advanced to the rank of a falconer.[*]
* Bacon, p. 586. Polyd. Virg. p; 574.
Henry had now leisure to revenge himself on his enemies. He made a
progress into the northern parts, where he gave many proofs of his
rigorous disposition. A strict inquiry was made after those who had
assisted or favored the rebels. The punishments were not all sanguinary:
the king made his revenge subservient to his avarice. Heavy fines were
levied upon the delinquents. The proceedings of the courts, and even the
courts themselves, were arbitrary. Either the criminals were tried by
commissioners appointed for the purpose, or they suffered punishment
by sentence of a court-martial. And as a rumor had prevailed before the
battle of Stoke, that the rebels had gained the victory, that the royal
army was cut in pieces, and that the king himself had escaped by flight,
Henry was resolved to interpret the belief or propagation of this report
as a mark of disaffection; and he punished many for that pretended
crime. But such in this age was the situation of the English government,
that the royal prerogative, which was but imperfectly restrained during
the most peaceable periods, was sure, in tumultuous or even suspicious
times, which frequently recurred, to break all bounds of law, and to
violate public liberty.
After the king had gratified his rigor by the punishment of his enemies,
he determined to give contentment to the people in a point which, though
a mere ceremony, was passionately desired by them. The queen had
been married near two years, but had not yet been crowned; and this
affectation of delay had given great discontent to the public, and had
been one principal source of the disaffection which prevailed. The king,
instructed by experience, now finished the ceremony of her coronation;
and to show a disposition still more gracious, he restored to liberty
the marquis of Dorset, who had been able to clear himself of all the
suspicions entertained against him.
* Bacon, p. 586. Polyd. Virg. p; 574.
CHAPTER XXV.
HENRY VII.
{1488.} The king acquired great reputation throughout Europe by the
vigorous and prosperous conduct of his domestic affairs; but as some
incidents about this time invited him to look abroad, and exert himself
in behalf of his allies, it will be necessary, in order to give a
just account of his foreign measures, to explain the situation of
the neighboring kingdoms, beginning with Scotland, which lies most
contiguous.
The kingdom of Scotland had not yet attained that state which
distinguishes a civilized monarchy, and which enables the government, by
the force of its laws and institutions alone, without any extraordinary
capacity in the sovereign, to maintain itself in order and tranquillity.
James III., who now filled the throne, was a prince of little industry
and of a narrow genius; and though it behoved him to yield the reins of
government to his ministers, he had never been able to make any choice
which could give contentment both to himself and to his people. When he
bestowed his confidence on any of the principal nobility, he found that
they exalted their own family to such a height as was dangerous to the
prince, and gave umbrage to the state: when he conferred favor on any
person of meaner birth, on whose submission he could more depend,
the barons of his kingdom, enraged at the power of an upstart minion,
proceeded to the utmost extremities against their sovereign. Had Henry
entertained the ambition of conquests, a tempting opportunity now
offered of reducing that kingdom to subjection; but as he was probably
sensible that a warlike people, though they might be overrun by reason
of their domestic divisions, could not be retained in obedience without
a regular military force, which was then unknown in England, he rather
intended the renewal of the peace with Scotland, and sent an embassy to
James for that purpose. But the Scots, who never desired a durable peace
with England, and who deemed their security to consist in constantly
preserving themselves in a warlike posture, would not agree to more than
a seven years’ truce, which was accordingly concluded.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 575.
The European states on the continent were then hastening fast to the
situation in which they have remained, without any material alteration,
for near three centuries; and began to unite themselves into one
extensive system of policy, which comprehended the chief powers of
Christendom. Spain, which had hitherto been almost entirely occupied
within herself, now became formidable by the union of Arragon and
Castile in the persons of Ferdinand and Isabella, who, being princes
of great capacity, employed their force in enterprises the most
advantageous to their combined monarchy. The conquest of Granada from
the Moors was then undertaken, and brought near to a happy conclusion.
And in that expedition the military genius of Spain was revived; honor
and security were attained; and her princes, no longer kept in awe by a
domestic enemy so dangerous, began to enter into all the transactions of
Europe, and make a great figure in every war and negotiation.
Maximilian, king of the Romans, son of the emperor Frederick, had, by
his marriage with the heiress of Burgundy, acquired an interest in
the Netherlands; and though the death of his consort had weakened his
connections with that country, he still pretended to the government
as tutor to his son Philip, and his authority had been acknowledged
by Brabant, Holland, and several of the provinces. But as Flanders and
Hainault still refused to submit to his regency, and even appointed
other tutors to Philip, he had been engaged in long wars against that
obstinate people, and never was able thoroughly to subdue their spirit.
That he might free himself from the opposition of France, he had
concluded a peace with Lewis XI., and had given his daughter Margaret,
then an infant, in marriage to the dauphin; together with Artois,
Franche Compte, and Charolois, as her dowry. But this alliance had
not produced the desired effect. The dauphin succeeded to the crown of
France by the appellation of Charles VIII.; but Maximilian still found
the mutinies of the Flemings fomented by the intrigues of the court of
France.
France, during the two preceding reigns, had made a mighty increase in
power and greatness; and had not other states of Europe at the same time
received an accession of force, it had been impossible to have retained
her within her ancient boundaries. Most of the great fiefs, Normandy,
Champagne, Anjou, Dauphny, Guienne, Provence, and Burgundy, had
been united to the crown; the English had been expelled from all their
conquests; the authority of the prince had been raised to such a height
as enabled him to maintain law and order; a considerable military force
was kept on foot, and the finances were able to support it. Lewis XI,
indeed, from whom many of these advantages were derived, was dead, and
had left his son, in early youth and ill educated, to sustain the weight
of the monarchy: but having intrusted the government to his daughter
Anne, lady of Beaujeu, a woman of spirit and capacity, the French power
suffered no check or decline. On the contrary, this princess formed the
great project, which at last she happily effected, of uniting to the
crown Brittany, the last and most independent fief of the monarchy.
Francis II., duke of Brittany, conscious of his own incapacity for
government, had resigned himself to the direction of Peter Landais,
a man of mean birth, more remarkable for abilities than for virtue or
integrity. The nobles of Brittany, displeased with the great advancement
of this favorite, had even proceeded to disaffection against their
sovereign; and after many tumults and disorders, they at last united
among themselves, and in a violent manner seized, tried, and put to
death the obnoxious minister. Dreading the resentment of the prince for
this invasion of his authority, many of them retired to France; others,
for protection and safety, maintained a secret correspondence with the
French ministry, who, observing the great dissensions among the Bretons,
thought the opportunity favorable for invading the duchy; and so
much the rather as they could cover their ambition under the specious
pretence of providing for domestic security.
Lewis, duke of Orleans, first prince of the blood, and presumptive
heir of the monarchy, had disputed the administration with the lady of
Beaujeu; and though his pretensions had been rejected by the states, he
still maintained cabals with many of the grandees, and laid schemes
for subverting the authority of that princess. Finding his conspiracies
detected, he took to arms, and fortified himself in Beaugeune;
but as his revolt was precipitate, before his confederates were ready to
join him, he had been obliged to submit, and to receive such conditions
as the French ministry were pleased to impose upon him. Actuated,
however, by his ambition, and even by his fears, he soon retired out of
France, and took shelter with the duke of Brittany, who was desirous of
strengthening himself against the designs of the lady of Beaujeu by the
friendship and credit of the duke of Orleans. This latter prince
also, perceiving the ascendant which he soon acquired over the duke of
Brittany, had engaged many of his partisans to join him at that court,
and had formed the design of aggrandizing himself by a marriage with
Anne, the heir of that opulent duchy.
The barons of Brittany, who saw all favor engrossed by the duke of
Orleans and his train, renewed a stricter correspondence with France,
and even invited the French king to make an invasion on their country.
Desirous, however, of preserving its independency, they had regulated
the number of succors which France was to send them, and had stipulated
that no fortified place in Brittany should remain in the possession of
that monarchy; a vain precaution, where revolted subjects treat with a
power so much superior! The French invaded Brittany with forces three
times more numerous than those which they had promised to the barons;
and advancing into the heart of the country, laid siege to Ploerrnel. To
oppose them, the duke raised a numerous but ill-disciplined army, which
he put under the command of the duke of Orleans, the count of Dunois,
and others of the French nobility. The army, discontented with this
choice, and jealous of their confederates, soon disbanded, and left
their prince with too small a force to keep the field against his
invaders. He retired to Vannes; but being hotly pursued by the French,
who had now made themselves masters of Ploermel, he escaped to Nantz;
and the enemy, having previously taken and garrisoned Vannes, Dinant,
and other places, laid close siege to that city. The barons of Brittany,
finding their country menaced with total subjection, began gradually to
withdraw from the French army, and to make peace with their sovereign.
This desertion, however, of the Bretons discouraged not the court
of France from pursuing her favorite project of reducing Brittany to
subjection The situation of Europe appeared favorable to the execution
of this design. Maximilian was indeed engaged in close alliance with the
duke of Brittany and had even opened a treaty for marrying his daughter;
but he was on all occasions so indigent, and at that time so disquieted
by the mutinies of the Flemings, that little effectual assistance could
be expected from him. Ferdinand was entirely occupied in the conquest of
Granada; and it was also known, that if France would resign to him
Roussillon and Cerdagne, to which he had pretensions, she could at any
time engage him to abandon the interests of Brittany. England, alone,
was both enabled by her power, and engaged by her interests, to support
the independency of that duchy; and the most dangerous opposition was
therefore, by Anne of Beaujeu, expected from that quarter. In order to
cover her real designs, no sooner was she informed of Henry’s success
against Simnel and his partisans, than she despatched ambassadors to the
court of London, and made professions of the greatest trust and
confidence in that monarch.
The ambassadors, after congratulating Henry on his late victory, and
communicating to him, in the most cordial manner, as to an intimate
friend, some successes of their master against Maximilian, came in
the progress of their discourse to mention the late transactions in
Brittany. They told him that the duke having given protection to French
fugitives and rebels, the king had been necessitated, contrary to his
intention and inclination, to carry war into that duchy; that the honor
of the crown was interested not to suffer a vassal so far to forget
his duty to his liege lord; nor was the security of the government less
concerned to prevent the consequences of this dangerous temerity: that
the fugitives were no mean or obscure persons; but among others,
the duke of Orleans, first prince of the blood, who, finding himself
obnoxious to justice for treasonable practices in France, had fled
into Brittany; where he still persevered in laying schemes of rebellion
against his sovereign: that the war being thus, on the part of the
French monarch, entirely defensive, it would immediately cease, when the
duke of Brittany, by returning to his duty, should remove the causes of
it: that their master was sensible of the obligations which the duke,
in very critical times, had conferred on Henry; but it was known also,
that, in times still more critical, he or his mercenary counsellors
had deserted him, and put his life in the utmost hazard: that his sole
refuge in these desperate extremities had been the court of France,
which not only protected his person, but supplied him with men and
money, with which, aided by his own valor and conduct, he had been
enabled to mount the throne of England; that France in this transaction
had, from friendship to Henry acted contrary to what, in a narrow view,
might be esteemed her own interest; since, instead of an odious tyrant,
she had contributed to establish on a rival throne a prince endowed with
such virtue and abilities; and that, as both the justice of the cause
and the obligations conferred on Henry thus preponderated on the side
of France, she reasonably expected that, if the situation of his affairs
did not permit him to give her assistance, he would at least preserve a
neutrality between the contending parties.[*]
* Bacon, p. 589.
This discourse of the French ambassadors was plausible; and to give
it greater weight, they communicated to Henry, as in confidence, their
master’s intention, after he should have settled the differences with
Brittany to lead an army into Italy, and make good his pretensions to
the kingdom of Naples; a project which, they knew, would give no umbrage
to the court of England. But all these artifices were in vain employed
against the penetration of the king. He clearly saw that France had
entertained the view of subduing Brittany; but he also perceived, that
she would meet with great, and, as he thought, insuperable difficulties
in the execution of her project. The native force of that duchy, he
knew, had always been considerable, and had often, without any foreign
assistance, resisted the power of France; the natural temper of
the French nation, he imagined, would make them easily abandon any
enterprise which required perseverance; and as the heir of the crown
was confederated with the duke of Brittany, the ministers would be
still more remiss in prosecuting a scheme which must draw on them his
resentment and displeasure. Should even these internal obstructions be
removed, Maximilian, whose enmity to France was well known, and who now
paid his addresses to the heiress of Brittany, would be able to make a
diversion on the side of Flanders; nor could it be expected that France,
if she prosecuted such ambitious projects, would be allowed to remain in
tranquillity by Ferdinand and Isabella. Above all, he thought the French
court could never expect that England, so deeply interested to preserve
the independency of Brittany, so able by her power and situation to give
effectual and prompt assistance, would permit such an accession of force
to her rival. He imagined, therefore, that the ministers of France,
convinced of the impracticability of their scheme, would at last embrace
pacific views, and would abandon an enterprise so obnoxious to all the
potentates of Europe.
This reasoning of Henry was solid, and might justly engage him in
dilatory and cautious measures: but there entered into his conduct
another motive, which was apt to draw him beyond the just bounds,
because founded on a ruling passion. His frugality, which by degrees
degenerated into avarice, made him averse to all warlike enterprises and
distant expeditions, and engaged him previously to try the expedient
of negotiation. He despatched Urswic, his almoner, a man of address and
abilities, to make offer of his mediation to the contending parties;
an offer which, he thought, if accepted by France, would soon lead to
a composure of all differences; if refused or eluded, would at least
discover the perseverance of that court in her ambitious projects.
Urswic found the lady of Beaujeu, now duchess of Bourbon, engaged in the
siege of Nantz, and had the satisfaction to find that his master’s
offer of mediation was readily embraced and with many expressions of
confidence and moderation. That able princess concluded, that the duke
of Orleans, who governed the court of Brittany, foreseeing that every
accommodation must be made at his expense, would use all his interest to
have Henry’s proposal rejected; and would by that means make an apology
for the French measures, and draw on the Bretons the reproach of
obstinacy and injustice. The event justified her prudence. When the
English ambassador made the same offer to the duke of Brittany, he
received for answer, in the name of that prince, that having so long
acted the part of protector and guardian to Henry during his youth and
adverse fortune, he had expected from a monarch of such virtue more
effectual assistance in his present distresses than a barren offer of
mediation, which suspended not the progress of the French arms: that if
Henry’s gratitude were not sufficient to engage him in such a measure,
his prudence, as king of England, should discover to him the pernicious
consequences attending the conquest of Brittany, and its annexation to
the crown of France: that that kingdom, already too powerful, would be
enabled, by so great an accession of force, to display, to the ruin of
England, that hostile disposition which had always subsisted between
those rival nations: that Brittany, so useful an ally, which, by its
situation, gave the English an entrance into the heart of France, being
annexed to that kingdom, would be equally enabled from its situation to
disturb, either by piracies or naval armaments, the commerce and
peace cf England: and that if the duke rejected Henry’s mediation, it
proceeded neither from an inclination to a war, which he experienced to
be ruinous to him, nor from a confidence in his own force, which he knew
to be much inferior to that of the enemy; but, on the contrary, from a
sense of his present necessities, which must engage the king to act the
part of his confederate, not that of a mediator.
When this answer was reported to the king, he abandoned not the plan
which he had formed; he only concluded that some more time was requisite
to quell the obstinacy of the Bretons, and make them submit to reason.
And when he learned that the people of Brittany, anxious for their
duke’s safety, had formed a tumultuary army of sixty thousand men, and
had obliged the French to raise the siege of Nantz, he fortified himself
the more in his opinion, that the court of France would at last be
reduced, by multiplied obstacles and difficulties, to abandon the
project of reducing Brittany to subjection. He continued, therefore, his
scheme of negotiation, and thereby exposed himself to be deceived by
the artifices of the French ministry; who, still pretending pacific
intentions, sent Lord Bernard Daubigni, a Scotchman of quality,
to London, and pressed Henry not to be discouraged in offering his
mediation to the court of Brittany. The king, on his part, despatched
another embassy, consisting of Urswic, the abbot of Abingdon, and Sir
Richard Tonstal, who carried new proposals for an amicable treaty. No
effectual succors, meanwhile, were provided for the distressed Bretons.
Lord Woodville, brother to the queen dowager, having asked leave
to raise underhand a body of volunteers, and to transport them into
Brittany, met with a refusal from the king, who was desirous of
preserving the appearance of a strict neutrality. That nobleman,
however, still persisted in his purpose. He went over to the Isle of
Wight, of which he was governor, levied a body of four hundred men; and
having at last obtained, as is supposed, the secret permission of
Henry, sailed with them to Brittany. This enterprise proved fatal to the
leader, and brought small relief to the unhappy duke. The Bretons rashly
engaged in a general action with the French at St. Aubin, and were
discomfited. Woodville and all the English were put to the sword,
together with a body of Bretons, who had been accoutred in the garb of
Englishmen in order to strike a greater terror into the French, to whom
the martial prowess of that nation was always formidable.[*] The duke of
Orleans the prince of Orange, and many other persons of rank were taken
prisoners; and the military force of Brittany was totally broken. The
death of the duke, which followed soon after, threw affairs into
still greater confusion, and seemed to threaten the state with a final
subjection.
Though the king did not prepare against these events, so hurtful to the
interests of England, with sufficient vigor and precaution, he had not
altogether overlooked them. Determined to maintain a pacific conduct,
as far as the situation of affairs would permit, he yet knew the warlike
temper of his subjects, and observed that their ancient and inveterate
animosity to France was now revived by the prospect of this great
accession to her power and grandeur. He resolved, therefore to make
advantage of this disposition, and draw some supplies from the people,
on pretence of giving assistance to the duke of Brittany. He had
summoned a parliament at Westminster;[**] and he soon persuaded them
to grant him a considerable subsidy.[***] But this supply, though
voted by parliament, involved the king in unexpected difficulties.
The counties of Durham and York, always discontented with Henry’s
government, and further provoked by the late oppressions under which
they had labored, after the suppression of Simnel’s rebellion, resisted
the commissioners who were appointed to levy the tax. The commissioners,
terrified with this appearance of sedition, made application to the
earl of Northumberland, and desired of him advice and assistance in
the execution of their office. That nobleman thought the matter of
importance enough to consult the king; who, unwilling to yield to
the humors of a discontented populace, and foreseeing the pernicious
consequence of such a precedent, renewed his orders for strictly levying
the imposition. Northumberland summoned together the justices and chief
freeholders, and delivered the king’s commands in the most imperious
terms which, he thought, would enforce obedience, but which tended only
to provoke the people, and make them believe him the adviser of those
orders which he delivered to them. [****]
* Argentré Hist, de Bretagne, liv. xii.
** 9th November, 1487.
*** Polyd. Virg. (p 579) says, that this imposition was a
capitation tax; the other historians say, it was a tax of
two shillings in the pound.
**** Bacon, p. 595.
They flew to arms, attacked Northumberland in his house, and put him to
death. Having incurred such deep guilt, their mutinous humor prompted
them to declare against the king himself; and being instigated by John
Achamber, a seditious fellow of low birth, they chose Sir John Egremond
their leader, and prepared themselves for a vigorous resistance. Henry
was not dismayed with an insurrection so precipitate and ill supported.
He immediately levied a force, which he put under the command of the
earl of Surrey, whom he had freed from confinement and received into
favor. His intention was to send down these troops, in order to check
the progress of the rebels; while he himself should follow with a
greater body, which would absolutely insure success. But Surrey thought
himself strong enough to encounter alone a raw and unarmed multitude;
and he succeeded in the attempt. The rebels were dissipated; John
Achamber was taken prisoner, and afterwards executed with some of his
accomplices; Sir John Egremond fled to the duchess of Burgundy, who gave
him protection; the greater number of the rebels received a pardon.
Henry had probably expected, when he obtained this grant from
parliament, that he should be able to terminate the affair of Brittany
by negotiation, and that he might thereby fill his coffers with the
money levied by the imposition. But as the distresses of the Bretons
still multiplied, and became every day more urgent, he found himself
under the necessity of taking more vigorous measures, in order to
support them. On the death of the duke, the French had revived some
antiquated claims to the dominion of the duchy; and as the duke of
Orleans was now captive in France, their former pretence for hostilities
could no longer serve as a cover to their ambition. The king resolved
therefore to engage as auxiliary to Brittany; and to consult the
interests, as well as desires of his people, by opposing himself to
the progress of the French power. Besides entering into a league with
Maximilian, and another with Ferdinand, which were distant resources,
he levied a body of troops, to the number of six thousand men, with an
intention of transporting them into Brittany.
{1489.} Still anxious, however, for the repayment of his expenses, he
concluded a treaty with the young duchess, by which she engaged to
deliver into his hands two seaport towns, there to remain till she
should entirely refund the charges of the armament.[*]
* Du Tillet, Recueil des Traités.
Though he engaged for the service of these troops during the space of
ten months only, yet was the duchess obliged, by the necessity of her
affairs, to submit to such rigid conditions, imposed by any ally so
much concerned in interest to protect her. The forces arrived under the
command of Lord Willoughby of Broke; and made the Bretons, during some
time, masters of the field. The French retired into their garrisons;
and expected by dilatory measures to waste the fire of the English, and
disgust them with the enterprise. The scheme was well laid, and met with
success. Lord Broke found such discord and confusion in the counsels of
Brittany, that no measures could be concerted for any undertaking; no
supply obtained; no provisions, carriages, artillery, or military stores
procured. The whole court was rent into factions: no one minister had
acquired the ascendant: and whatever project was formed by one, was
sure to be traversed by another. The English, disconcerted in every
enterprise by these animosities and uncertain counsels, returned home
as soon as the time of their service was elapsed, leaving only a small
garrison in those towns which had been consigned into their hands.
During their stay in Brittany, they had only contributed still further
to waste the country; and by their departure, they left it entirely at
the mercy of the enemy. So feeble was the succor which Henry in this
important conjuncture afforded his ally, whom the invasion of a foreign
enemy, concurring with domestic dissensions, had reduced to the utmost
distress.
The great object of the domestic dissensions in Brittany was the
disposal of the young duchess in marriage. The mareschal Rieux, favored
by Henry, seconded the suit of the lord D’Albret, who led some forces to
her assistance. The chancellor Montauban, observing the aversion of the
duchess to this suitor, insisted that a petty prince, such as
D’Albret, was unable to support Anne in her present extremities; and
he recommended some more powerful alliance, particularly that of
Maximilian, king of the Romans.
{1490.} This party at last prevailed; the marriage with Maximilian was
celebrated by proxy; and the duchess thenceforth assumed the title of
queen of the Romans. But this magnificent appellation was all she
gained by her marriage. Maximilian, destitute of troops and money, and
embarrassed with the continual revolts of the Flemings, could send
no succor to his distressed consort; while D’Albret, enraged at the
preference given to his rival, deserted her cause, and received the
French into Nantz, the most important place in the duchy both for
strength and riches.
The French court now began to change their scheme with regard to the
subjection of Brittany. Charles had formerly been affianced to Margaret,
daughter of Maximilian; who, though too young for the consummation of
her marriage, had been sent to Paris to be educated, and at this time
bore the title of queen of France. Besides the rich dowry which she
brought the king, she was, after her brother Philip, then in early
youth, heir to all the dominions of the house of Burgundy; and seemed in
many respects the most proper match that could be chosen for the young
monarch. These circumstances had so blinded both Maximilian and Henry,
that they never suspected any other intentions in the French court; nor
were they able to discover that engagements, seemingly so advantageous
and so solemnly entered into, could be infringed and set aside. But
Charles began to perceive that the conquest of Brittany, in opposition
to the natives, and to all the great powers of Christendom, would prove
a difficult enterprise; and that even if he should overrun the country
and make himself master of the fortresses, it would be impossible for
him long to retain possession of them. The marriage alone of the duchess
could fully reannex that fief to the crown; and the present and certain
enjoyment of so considerable a territory, seemed preferable to the
prospect of inheriting the dominions of the house of Burgundy; a
prospect which became every day more distant and precarious. Above all,
the marriage of Maximilian and Anne appeared destructive to the grandeur
and even security of the French monarchy; while that prince, possessing
Flanders on the one hand, and Brittany on the other, might thus, from
both quarters, make inroads into the heart of the country. The only
remedy for these evils was therefore concluded to be the dissolution of
the two marriages, which had been celebrated, but not consummated; and
the espousal of the duchess of Brittany by the king of France.
It was necessary that this expedient, which had not been foreseen by any
court in Europe, and which they were all so much interested to oppose,
should be kept a profound secret, and should be discovered to the
world only by the full execution of it. The measures of the French
ministry in the conduct of this delicate enterprise were wise and
political. While they pressed Brittany with all the rigors of war, they
secretly gained the count of Dunois, who possessed great authority with
the Bretons; and having also engaged in their interests the prince of
Orange, cousin-german to the duchess, they gave him his liberty, and
sent him into Brittany. These partisans, supported by other emissaries
of France, prepared the minds of men for the great revolution projected,
and displayed, though still with many precautions, all the advantages
of a union with the French monarchy. They represented to the barons
of Brittany, that their country, harassed during so many years with
perpetual war, had need of some repose, and of a solid and lasting peace
with the only power that was formidable to them: that their alliance
with Maximilian was not able to afford them even present protection;
and, by closely uniting them to a power which was rival to the greatness
of France, fixed them in perpetual enmity with that potent monarchy:
that their vicinity exposed them first to the inroads of the enemy; and
the happiest event which, in such a situation, could befall them, would
be to attain a peace, though by a final subjection to France, and by the
loss of that liberty transmitted to them from their ancestors: and that
any other expedient, compatible with the honor of the state and their
duty to their sovereign, was preferable to a scene of such disorder and
devastation.
These suggestions had influence with the Bretons: but the chief
difficulty lay in surmounting the prejudices of the young duchess
herself. That princess had imbibed a strong prepossession against the
French nation, particularly against Charles, the author of all the
calamities which, from her earliest infancy, had befallen her family.
She had also fixed her affections on Maximilian; and as she now deemed
him her husband, she could not, she thought, without incurring the
greatest guilt, and violating the most solemn engagements, contract a
marriage with any other person.
{1491.} In order to overcome her obstinacy, Charles gave the duke of
Orleans his liberty; who, though formerly a suitor to the duchess, was
now contented to ingratiate himself with the king, by employing in his
favor all the interest which he still possessed in Brittany. Mareschal
Rieux and Chancellor Montauban were reconciled by his mediation; and
these rival ministers now concurred with the prince of Orange and the
count of Dunois, in pressing the conclusion of a marriage with Charles.
By their suggestion, Charles advanced with a powerful army, and invested
Rennes, at that time the residence of the duchess; who, assailed on all
hands, and finding none to support her in her inflexibility, at last
opened the gates of the city, and agreed to espouse the king of France,
She was married at Langey, in Touraine; conducted to St. Denis, where
she was crowned; thence made her entry into Paris, amidst the joyful
acclamations of the people, who regarded this marriage as the most
prosperous event that could have befallen the monarchy.
The triumph and success of Charles was the most sensible mortification
to the king of the Romans. He had lost a considerable territory, which
he thought he had acquired, and an accomplished princess, whom he had
espoused; he was affronted in the person of his daughter Margaret, who
was sent back to him, after she had been treated during some years as
queen of France; he had reason to reproach himself with his own supine
security, in neglecting the consummation of his marriage, which was
easily practicable for him, and which would have rendered the tie
indissoluble: these considerations threw him into the most violent rage,
which he vented in very indecent expressions; and he threatened France
with an invasion from the united arms of Austria, Spain, and England.
The king of England had also just reason to reproach himself with
misconduct in this important transaction; and though the affair had
terminated in a manner which he could not precisely foresee, his
negligence, in leaving his most useful ally so long exposed to the
invasion of superior power, could not but appear on reflection the
result of timid caution and narrow politics. As he valued himself on his
extensive foresight and profound judgment, the ascendant acquired over
him by a raw youth, such as Charles, could not but give him the highest
displeasure, and prompt him to seek vengeance, after all remedy for
his miscarriage was become absolutely impracticable. But he was further
actuated by avarice, a motive still more predominant with him
than either pride or revenge; and he sought, even from his present
disappointments, the gratification of this ruling passion. On pretence
of a French war, he issued a commission for levying a “benevolence”
on his people;[*] a species of taxation which had been abolished by a
recent law of Richard III.
* Rymer, vol. xii. p. 446. Bacon says that the benevolence
was levied with consent of parliament, which is a mistake.
This violence (for such it really was) fell chiefly on the commercial
part of the nation, who were possessed of the ready money. London
alone contributed to the amount of near ten thousand pounds. Archbishop
Morton, the chancellor, instructed the commissioners to employ a
dilemma, in which every one might be comprehended: if the persons
applied to lived frugally, they were told that their parsimony must
necessarily have enriched them; if their method of living were splendid
and hospitable, they were concluded to be opulent on account of their
expenses. This device was by some called Chancellor Morton’s fork, by
others his crutch.
So little apprehensive was the king of a parliament on account of his
levying this arbitrary imposition, that he soon after summoned that
assembly to meet at Westminster; and he even expected to enrich himself
further by working on their passions and prejudices. He knew the
displeasure which the English had conceived against France on account of
the acquisition of Brittany; and he took care to insist on that topic,
in the speech which he himself pronounced to the parliament. He told
them, that France, elated with her late successes, had even proceeded to
a contempt of England, and had refused to pay the tribute which Lewis XI
had stipulated to Edward IV.: that it became so warlike a nation as
the English to be roused by this indignity, and not to limit their
pretensions merely to repelling the present injury: that, for his part,
he was determined to lay claim to the crown itself of France, and to
maintain by force of arms so just a title, transmitted to him by his
gallant ancestors: that Crecy, Poictiers, and Azincour were sufficient
to instruct them in their superiority over the enemy; nor did he despair
of adding new names to the glorious catalogue; that a king of France
had been prisoner in London, and a king of England had been crowned at
Paris; events which should animate them to an emulation of like glory
with that which had been enjoyed by their forefathers: that the domestic
dissensions of England had been the sole cause of her losing these
foreign dominions; and her present internal union would be the effectual
means of recovering them: that where such lasting honor was in view, and
such an important acquisition, it became not brave men to repine at the
advance of a little treasure: and that, for his part, he was determined
to make the war maintain itself; and hoped by the invasion of so opulent
a kingdom as France, to increase rather than diminish the riches of the
nation.[*]
* Bacon, p. 601.
Notwithstanding these magnificent vaunts of the king, all men of
penetration concluded, from the personal character of the man, and still
more from the situation of affairs, that he had no serious intention of
pushing the war to such extremities as he pretended. France was not now
in the same condition as when such successful inroads had been made
upon her by former kings of England. The great fiefs were united to
the crown; the princes of the blood were desirous of tranquillity; the
nation abounded with able captains and veteran soldiers; and the general
aspect of her affairs seemed rather to threaten her neighbors, than to
promise them any considerable advantages against her. The levity and
vain-glory of Maximilian were supported by his pompous titles; but
were ill seconded by military power, and still less by any revenue
proportioned to them. The politic Ferdinand, while he made a show of
war, was actually negotiating for peace; and rather than expose himself
to any hazard, would accept of very moderate concessions from France.
Even England was not free from domestic discontents; and in Scotland,
the death of Henry’s friend and ally, James III., who had been murdered
by his rebellious subjects, had made way for the succession of his son,
James IV., who was devoted to the French interest, and would surely be
alarmed at any important progress of the English arms. But all these
obvious considerations had no influence on the parliament. Inflamed by
the ideas of subduing France, and of enriching themselves by the spoils
of that kingdom, they gave into the snare prepared for them, and voted
the supply which the king demanded. Two fifteenths were granted him; and
the better to enable his vassals and nobility to attend him, an act was
passed, empowering them to sell their estates, without paying any fines
for alienation.
{1492.} The nobility were universally seized with a desire of military
glory; and having credulously swallowed all the boasts of the king, they
dreamed of no less than carrying their triumphant banners to the
gates of Paris, and putting the crown of France on the head of their
sovereign. Many of them borrowed large sums, or sold off manors, that
they might appear in the field with greater splendor, and lead out their
followers in more complete order. The king crossed the sea, and arrived
at Calais on the sixth of October, with an army of twenty-five thousand
foot and sixteen hundred horse, which he put under the command of the
duke of Bedford and the earl of Oxford: but as some inferred, from
his opening the campaign in so late a season, that peace would soon be
concluded between the crowns, he was desirous of suggesting a contrary
inference. “He had come over,” he said, “to make an entire conquest of
France, which was not the work of one summer. It was therefore of no
consequence at what season he began the invasion; especially as he had
Calais ready for winter quarters.” As if he had seriously intended this
enterprise, he instantly marched into the enemy’s country, and laid
siege to Boulogne: but notwithstanding this appearance of hostility,
there had been secret advances made towards peace above three months
before; and commissioners had been appointed to treat of the terms. The
better to reconcile the minds of men to this unexpected measure, the
king’s ambassadors arrived in the camp from the Low Countries, and
informed him, that Maximilian was in no readiness to join him; nor was
any assistance to be expected from that quarter. Soon after, messengers
came from Spain, and brought news of a peace concluded between that
kingdom and France, in which Charles had made a cession of the counties
of Roussillon and Cerdagne to Ferdinand. Though these articles of
intelligence were carefully dispersed throughout the army, the king was
still apprehensive lest a sudden peace, after such magnificent promises
and high expectations, might expose him to reproach. In order the more
effectually to cover the intended measures, he secretly engaged the
marquis of Dorset, together with twenty-three persons of distinction,
to present him a petition for agreeing to a treaty with France. The
pretence was founded on the late season of the year, the difficulty of
supplying the army at Calais during winter, the obstacles which arose
in the siege of Boulogne, the desertion of those allies whose assistance
had been most relied on: events which might, all of them, have been
foreseen before the embarkation of the forces.
In consequence of these preparatory steps, the bishop of Exeter and Lord
Daubeney were sent to confer at Estaples with the mareschal de Cordes,
and to put the last hand to the treaty. A few days sufficed for that
purpose: the demands of Henry were wholly pecuniary; and the king of
Franco, who deemed the peaceable possession of Brittany an equivalent
for any sum, and who was all on fire for his projected expedition into
Italy, readily agreed to the proposals made him. He engaged to pay Henry
seven hundred and forty-five thousand crowns, near four hundred thousand
pounds sterling of our present money; partly as a reimbursement of
the sums advanced to Brittany, partly as arrears of the pension due to
Edward IV. And he stipulated a yearly pension to Henry and his heirs
of twenty-five thousand crowns. Thus the king, as remarked by his
historian, made profit upon his subjects for the war, and upon his
enemies for the peace.[*] And the people agreed that he had fulfilled
his promise, when he said to the parliament that he would make the war
maintain itself. Maximilian was, if he pleased, comprehended in Henry’s
treaty; but he disdained to be in any respect beholden to an ally, of
whom, he thought, he had reason to complain: he made a separate peace
with France, and obtained restitution of Artois, Franche Compte, and
Charolois, which had been ceded as the dowry of his daughter when she
was affianced to the king of France.
* Bacon, p. 605. Polyd Virg. p. 586.
The peace concluded between England and France was the more likely to
continue, because Charles, full of ambition and youthful hopes, bent
all his attention to the side of Italy, and soon after undertook the
conquest of Naples; an enterprise which Henry regarded with the greater
indifference, as Naples lay remote from him, and France had never, in
any age, been successful in that quarter. The king’s authority was
fully established at home; and every rebellion which had been attempted
against him, had hitherto tended only to confound his enemies, and
consolidate his power and influence. His reputation for policy and
conduct was daily augmenting; his treasures had increased even from the
most unfavorable events; the hopes of all pretenders to his throne were
cut off, as well by his marriage as by the issue which it had brought
him. In this prosperous situation, the king had reason to flatter
himself with the prospect of durable peace and tranquillity; but his
inveterate and indefatigable enemies, whom he had wantonly provoked,
raised him an adversary, who long kept him in inquietude, and sometimes
even brought him into danger.
The duchess of Burgundy, full of resentment for the depression of her
family and its partisans, rather irritated than discouraged by the ill
success of her past enterprises, was determined at least to disturb that
government which she found it so difficult to subvert. By means of
her emissaries, she propagated a report that her nephew, Richard
Plantagenet, duke of York, had escaped from the Tower when his elder
brother was murdered, and that he still lay somewhere concealed: and
finding this rumor, however improbable, to be greedily received by the
people, she had been looking out for some young man proper to personate
that unfortunate prince.
There was one Osbec, or Warbec, a renegade Jew of Tournay, who had been
carried by some business to London in the reign of Edward IV., and had
there a son born to him. Having had opportunities of being known to
the king, and obtaining his favor, he prevailed with that prince, whose
manners were very affable, to stand godfather to his son, to whom
he gave the name of Peter, corrupted, after the Flemish manner, into
Peterkin, or Perkin. It was by some believed that Edward, among his
amorous adventures, had a secret commerce with Warbec’s wife; and people
thence accounted for that resemblance which was afterwards remarked
between young Perkin and that monarch.[*]
* Bacon, p. 606.
Some years after the birth of this child, Warbec returned to Tournay;
where Perkin, his son, did not long remain, but by different accidents,
was carried from place to place, and his birth and fortunes became
thereby unknown, and difficult to be traced by the most diligent
inquiry. The variety of his adventures had happily favored the natural
versatility and sagacity of his genius; and he seemed to be a youth
perfectly fitted to act any part, or assume any character. In this light
he had been represented to the duchess of Burgundy, who, struck with the
concurrence of so many circumstances suited to her purpose, desired to
be made acquainted with the man, on whom she already began to ground
her hopes of success. She found him to exceed her most sanguine
expectations; so comely did he appear in his person, so graceful in his
air, so courtly in his address, so full of docility and good sense in
his behavior and conversation. The lessons necessary to be taught him,
in order to his personating the duke of York, were soon learned by a
youth of such quick apprehension; but as the season seemed not then
favorable for their enterprise, Margaret, in order the better to conceal
him, sent him, under the care of Lady Brampton into Portugal, where he
remained a year unknown to all the world.
The war, which was then ready to break out between France and England,
seemed to afford a proper opportunity for the discovery of this new
phenomenon; and Ireland, which still retained its attachments to
the house of York, was chosen as the proper place for his first
appearance.[*] He landed at Cork; and immediately assuming the name of
Richard Plantagenet, drew to him partisans among that credulous people.
He wrote letters to the earls of Desmond and Kildare, inviting them to
join his party: he dispersed every where the strange intelligence of
his escape from the cruelty of his uncle Richard: and men, fond of every
thing new and wonderful, began to make him the general subject of their
discourse, and even the object of their favor.
The news soon reached France; and Charles, prompted by the secret
solicitations of the duchess of Burgundy, and the intrigues of one
Frion, a secretary of Henry’s, who had deserted his service, sent Perkin
an invitation to repair to him at Paris. He received him with all the
marks of regard due to the duke of York; settled on him a handsome
pension, assigned him magnificent lodgings, and in order to provide at
once for his dignity and security, gave him a guard for his person,
of which Lord Congresal accepted the office of captain. The French
courtiers readily embraced a fiction which their sovereign thought
it his interest to adopt: Perkin, both by his deportment and personal
qualities, supported the prepossession which was spread abroad of his
royal pedigree: and the whole kingdom was full of the accomplishments,
as well as the singular adventures and misfortunes, of the young
Plantagenet. Wonders of this nature are commonly augmented at a
distance. From France the admiration and credulity diffused themselves
into England: Sir George Nevil,[*] Sir John Taylor, and above a hundred
gentlemen more, came to Paris, in order to offer their services to the
supposed duke of York, and to share his fortunes: and the impostor had
now the appearance of a court attending him, and began to entertain
hopes of final success in his undertakings.
* Polyd Virg. p. 589.
When peace was concluded between France and England at Estaples, Henry
applied to have Perkin put into his hands; but Charles, resolute not
to betray a young man, of whatever birth, whom he had invited into his
kingdom, would agree only to dismiss him. The pretended Richard retired
to the duchess of Burgundy, and craving her protection and assistance,
offered to lay before her all the proofs of that birth to which he laid
claim. The princess affected ignorance of his pretensions; even put
on the appearance of distrust: and having, as she said, been already
deceived by Simnel, she was determined never again to be seduced by
any impostor. She desired before all the world to be instructed in his
reasons for assuming the name which he bore; seemed to examine every
circumstance with the most scrupulous nicety; put many particular
questions to him; affected astonishment at his answers; and at last,
after long and severe scrutiny, burst out into joy and admiration at
his wonderful deliverance, embraced him as her nephew, the true image of
Edward, the sole heir of the Plantagenets, and the legitimate successor
to the English throne.
{1493.} She immediately assigned him an equipage suited to his pretended
birth; appointed him a guard of thirty halberdiers; engaged every one to
pay court to him; and on all occasions honored him with the appellation
of the White Rose of England. The Flemings, moved by the authority which
Margaret, both from her rank and personal character, enjoyed among them,
readily adopted the fiction of Perkin’s royal descent: no surmise of his
true birth was as yet heard of little contradiction was made to the
prevailing opinion: and the English, from their great communication with
the Low Countries, were every day more and more prepossessed in favor of
the impostor.
It was not the populace alone of England that gave credit to Perkin’s
pretensions. Men of the highest birth and quality, disgusted at Henry’s
government, by which they found the nobility depressed, began to turn
their eyes towards the new claimant; and some of them even entered into
a correspondence with him. Lord Fitzwater, Sir Simon Mountfort, Sir
Thomas Thwaites, betrayed their inclination towards him: Sir William
Stanley himself, lord chamberlain, who had been so active in raising
Henry to the throne, moved either by blind credulity or a restless
ambition, entertained the project of a revolt in favor of his enemy.[*]
* Bacon, p. 608.
Sir Robert Clifford and William Barley were still more open in their
measures: they went over to Flanders, were introduced by the duchess of
Burgundy to the acquaintance of Perkin, and made him a tender of their
services. Clifford wrote back to England, that he knew perfectly the
person of Richard, duke of York, that this young man was undoubtedly
that prince himself, and that no circumstance of his story was exposed
to the least difficulty. Such positive intelligence, conveyed by a
person of rank and character, was sufficient with many to put the matter
beyond question, and excited the attention and wonder even of the most
indifferent. The whole nation was held in suspense; a regular conspiracy
was formed against the king’s authority, and a correspondence settled
between the malecontents in Flanders and those in England.
The king was informed of all these particulars; but agreeably to
his character, which was both cautious and resolute, he proceeded
deliberately, though steadily, in counterworking the projects of his
enemies. His first object was to ascertain the death of the real duke of
York, and to confirm the opinion that had always prevailed with regard
to that event. Five persons had been employed by Richard in the murder
of his nephews, or could give evidence with regard to it; Sir James
Tyrrel, to whom he had committed the government of the Tower for that
purpose, and who had seen the dead princes; Forrest, Dighton, and
Slater, who perpetrated the crime; and the priest who buried the bodies.
Tyrrel and Dighton alone were alive, and they agreed in the same story;
but as the priest was dead, and as the bodies were supposed to have
been removed by Richard’s orders from the place where they were first
interred, and could not now be found, it was not in Henry’s power to put
the fact, so much as he wished, beyond all doubt and controversy.
He met at first with more difficulty, but was in the end more
successful, in detecting who this wonderful person was that thus boldly
advanced pretensions to his crown. He dispersed his spies all over
Flanders and England; he engaged many to pretend that they had embraced
Perkin’s party; he directed them to insinuate themselves into the
confidence of the young man’s friends; in proportion as they conveyed
intelligence of any conspirator, he bribed his retainers, his domestic
servants, nay, sometimes his confessor, and by these means traced up
some other confederate; Clifford himself he engaged, by the hope of
rewards and pardon, to betray the secrets committed to him; the more
trust he gave to any of his spies, the higher resentment did he feign
against them, some of them he even caused to be publicly anathematized,
in order the better to procure them the confidence of his enemies: and
in the issue, the whole plan of the conspiracy was clearly laid before
him; and the pedigree, adventures, life, and conversation of the
pretended duke of York. This latter part of the story was immediately
published for the satisfaction of the nation: the conspirators he
reserved for a slower and surer vengeance.
{1494.} Meanwhile he remonstrated with the archduke Philip, on account
of the countenance and protection which was afforded in his dominions
to so infamous an impostor; contrary to treaties subsisting between the
sovereigns, and to the mutual amity which had so long been maintained
by the subjects of both states. Margaret had interest enough to get his
application rejected; on pretence that Philip had no authority over the
demesnes of the duchess dowager. And the king, in resentment of this
injury, cut off all commerce with the Low Countries, banished the
Flemings, and recalled his own subjects from these provinces. Philip
retaliated by like edicts; but Henry knew, that so mutinous a people as
the Flemings would not long bear, in compliance with the humors of their
prince, to be deprived of the beneficial branch of commerce which they
carried on with England.
He had it in his power to inflict more effectual punishment on his
domestic enemies; and when his projects were sufficiently matured, he
failed not to make them feel the effects of his resentment. Almost
in the same instant he arrested Fitzwater, Mountfort, and Thwaites,
together with William Daubeney, Robert Rateliff, Thomas Cressenor, and
Thomas Astwood. All these were arraigned, convicted, and condemned
for high treason, in adhering and promising aid to Perkin. Mountfort,
Ratcliff, and Daubeney were immediately executed: Fitzwater was
sent over to Calais, and detained in custody; but being detected in
practising on his keeper for an escape, he soon after underwent the same
fate. The rest were pardoned, together with William Worseley, dean of
St. Paul’s, and some others, who had been accused and examined, but not
brought to public trial.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 592.
Greater and more solemn preparations were deemed requisite for the
trial of Stanley, lord chamberlain, whose authority in the nation, whose
domestic connections with the king, as well as his former services,
seemed to secure him against any accusation or punishment. Clifford was
directed to come over privately to England, and to throw himself at the
king’s feet while he sat in council; craving pardon for past offences
and offering to atone for them by any services which should be required
of him. Henry then told him, that the best proof he could give of
penitence, and the only service he could now render him, was the full
confession of his guilt, and the discovery of all his accomplices,
however distinguished by rank or character. Encouraged by this
exhortation, Clifford accused Stanley, then present, as his chief
abettor; and offered to lay before the council the full proof of
his guilt. Stanley himself could not discover more surprise than was
affected by Henry on the occasion. He received the intelligence as
absolutely false and incredible; that a man, to whom he was in a great
measure beholden for his crown, and even for his life; a man, to, whom,
by every honor and favor, he had endeavored to express his gratitude;
whose brother, the earl of Derby, was his own father-in-law; to whom
he had even committed the trust of his person, by creating him lord
chamberlain: that this man, enjoying his full confidence and affection,
not actuated by any motive of discontent or apprehension, should engage
in a conspiracy against him. Clifford was therefore exhorted to weigh
well the consequences of his accusation; but as he persisted in the same
positive asseverations, Stanley was committed to custody, and was soon
after examined before the council.[*] He denied not the guilt imputed to
him by Clifford; he did not even endeavor much to extenuate it; whether
he thought that a frank and open confession would serve as an atonement,
or trusted to his present connections and his former services for pardon
and security. But princes are often apt to regard great services as
a ground of jealousy, especially if accompanied with a craving and
restless disposition in the person who has performed them. The general
discontent also, and mutinous humor of the people, seemed to require
some great example of severity. And as Stanley was one of the most
opulent subjects in the kingdom, being possessed of above three thousand
pounds a year in land, and forty thousand marks in plate and money,
besides other property of great value, the prospect of so rich a
forfeiture was deemed no small motive for Henry’s proceeding to
extremities against him.
* Bacon, p. 611 Polyd. Virg. p. 593.
{1495.} After six weeks’ delay, which was interposed in order to show
that the king was restrained by doubts and scruples, the prisoner
was brought to his trial, condemned, and presently after beheaded.
Historians are not agreed with regard to the crime which was proved
against him. The general report is, that he should have said in
confidence to Clifford, that if he were sure the young man who appeared
in Flanders was really son to King Edward, he never would bear arms
against him. The sentiment might disgust Henry, as implying a preference
of the house of York to that of Lancaster; but could scarcely be the
ground, even in those arbitrary times, of a sentence of high treason
against Stanley. It is more probable, therefore, as is asserted by some
historians, that he had expressly engaged to assist Perkin, and had
actually sent him some supply of money.
The fate of Stanley made great impression on the kingdom, and struck
all the partisans of Perkin with the deepest dismay. From Clifford’s
desertion, they found that all their secrets were betrayed; and as
it appeared that Stanley, while he seemed to live in the greatest
confidence with the king, had been continually surrounded by spies, who
reported and registered every action in which he was engaged, nay, every
word which fell from him, a general distrust took place, and all mutual
confidence was destroyed, even among intimate friends and acquaintance.
The jealous and severe temper of the king, together with his great
reputation for sagacity and penetration, kept men in awe, and quelled
not only the movements of sedition, but the very murmurs of faction.
Libels, however, crept out against Henry’s person and administration;
and being greedily propagated by every secret art, showed that there
still remained among the people a considerable root of discontent, which
wanted only a proper opportunity to discover itself.
But Henry continued more intent on increasing the terrors of his people,
than on gaining their affections. Trusting to the great success which
attended him in all his enterprises, he gave every day more and more a
loose to his rapacious temper, and employed the arts of perverted law
and justice, in order to exact fines and compositions from his people.
Sir William Capel, alderman of London, was condemned on some penal
statutes to pay the sum of two thousand seven hundred and forty-three
pounds, and was obliged to compound for sixteen hundred and fifteen.
This was the first noted case of the kind; but it became a precedent,
which prepared the may for many others. The management, indeed, of these
arts of chicanery, was the great secret of the king’s administration.
While he depressed the nobility, he exalted, and honored, and caressed
the lawyers; and by that means both bestowed authority on the laws, and
was enabled, whenever he pleased, to pervert them to his own advantage.
His government was oppressive; but it was so much the less burdensome,
as, by his extending royal authority, and curbing the nobles, he became
in reality the sole oppressor in his kingdom.
As Perkin found that the king’s authority daily gained ground among the
people, and that his own pretensions were becoming obsolete, he resolved
to attempt something which might revive the hopes and expectations of
his partisans. Having collected a band of outlaws, pirates, robbers, and
necessitous persons of all nations, to the number of six hundred men,
he put to sea, with a resolution of making a descent in England, and of
exciting the common people to arms, since all his correspondence with
the nobility was cut off by Henry vigilance and severity. Information
being brought him that the king had made a progress to the north, he
cast anchor on the coast of Kent, and sent some of his retainers ashore,
who invited the country to join him. The gentlemen of Kent assembled
some troops to oppose him; but they purposed to do more essential
service than by repelling the invasion: they carried the semblance of
friendship to Perkin, and invited him to come himself ashore, in order
to take the command over them. But the wary youth, observing that they
had more order and regularity in their movements than could be supposed
in new levied forces who had taken arms against established authority,
refused to intrust himself into their hands; and the Kentish troops,
despairing of success in their stratagem, fell upon such of his
retainers as were already landed; and besides some whom they slew, they
took a hundred and fifty prisoners. These were tried and condemned and
all of them executed, by orders from the king, who was resolved to use
no lenity towards men of such desperate fortunes.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 595.
This year a parliament was summoned in England, and another in Ireland;
and some remarkable laws were passed in both countries. The English
parliament enacted, that no person who should by arms, or otherwise
assist the king for the time being, should ever afterwards, either by
course of law or act of parliament, be attainted for such an instance of
obedience. This statute might be exposed to some censure, as favorable
to usurpers; were there any precise rule, which always, even during
the most factious times, could determine the true successor, and render
every one inexcusable who did not submit to him. But as the titles of
princes are then the great subject of dispute, and each party pleads
topics in its own favor, it seems but equitable to secure those who act
in support of public tranquillity, an object at all times of undoubted
benefit and importance. Henry, conscious of his disputed title, promoted
this law, in order to secure his partisans against all events; but as
he had himself observed a contrary practice with regard to Richard’s
adherents, he had reason to apprehend that, during the violence which
usually ensues on public convulsions, his example, rather than his law,
would, in case of a new revolution, be followed by his enemies. And the
attempt to bind the legislature itself, by prescribing rules to future
parliaments, was contradictory to the plainest principles of political
government.
This parliament also passed an act, empowering the king to levy, by
course of law, all the sums which any person had agreed to pay by way
of benevolence; a statute by which that arbitrary method of taxation was
indirectly authorized and justified.
The king’s authority appeared equally prevalent and uncontrolled in
Ireland. Sir Edward Poynings had been sent over to that country, with
an intention of quelling the partisans of the house of York, and of
reducing the natives to subjection. He was not supported by forces
sufficient for that enterprise: the Irish, by flying into their woods,
and morasses, and mountains, for some time eluded his efforts; but
Poynings summoned a parliament at Dublin, where he was more successful.
He passed that memorable statute, which still bears his name, and which
establishes the authority of the English government in Ireland. By this
statute, all the former laws of England were made to be of force in
Ireland; and no bill can be introduced into the Irish parliament, unless
it previously receive the sanction of the council of England. This
latter clause seems calculated for insuring the dominion of the English;
but was really granted at the desire of the Irish commons who intended,
by that means, to secure themselves from the tyranny of their lords,
particularly of such lieutenants or deputies as were of Irish birth.[*]
* Sir John Davis, p. 236.
While Henry’s authority was thus established throughout his dominions,
and general tranquillity prevailed, the whole continent was thrown into
combustion by the French invasion of Italy, and by the rapid success
which attended Charles in that rash and ill-concerted enterprise. The
Italians, who had entirely lost the use of arms, and who, in the midst
of continual wars, had become every day more unwarlike, were astonished
to meet an enemy that made the field of battle, not a pompous
tournament, but a scene of blood, and sought, at the hazard of their own
lives, the death of their enemy. Their effeminate troops were dispersed
every where on the approach of the French army: their best fortified
cities opened their gates: kingdoms and states were in an instant
overturned; and through the whole length of Italy, which the French
penetrated without resistance, they seemed rather to be taking quarters
in their own country, than making conquests over an enemy. The maxims
which the Italians during that age followed in negotiations, were as
ill calculated to support their states, as the habits to which they were
addicted in war: a treacherous, deceitful, and inconsistent system of
politics prevailed; and even those small remains of fidelity and honor,
which were preserved in the councils of the other European princes, were
ridiculed in Italy, as proofs of ignorance and rusticity. Ludovico, duke
of Milan, who invited the French to invade Naples, had never desired
or expected their success; and was the first that felt terror from the
prosperous issue of those projects which he himself had concerted. By
his intrigues, a league was formed among several potentates, to oppose
the progress of Charles’s conquests, and secure their own independency.
This league was composed of Ludovico himself, the pope, Maximilian, king
of the Romans, Ferdinand of Spain, and the republic of Venice. Henry too
entered into the confederacy; but was not put to any expense or trouble
in consequence of his engagements. The king of France, terrified by so
powerful a combination, retired from Naples with the greater part of
his army, and returned to France. The forces which he left in his new
conquest were, partly by the revolt of the inhabitants, partly by the
invasion of the Spaniards, soon after subdued; and the whole kingdom
of Naples suddenly returned to its allegiance under Ferdinand, son to
Alphonso, who had been suddenly expelled by the irruption of the
French. Ferdinand died soon after, and left his uncle Frederick in full
possession of the throne.
CHAPTER XXVI.
HENRY VII.
{1495.} After Perkin was repulsed from the coast of Kent, he retired
into Flanders; but as he found it impossible to procure subsistence for
himself and his followers while he remained in tranquillity, he soon
after made an attempt upon Ireland, which had always appeared forward
to join every invader of Henry’s authority. But Poynings had now put the
affairs of that island in so good a posture, that Perkin met with little
success; and being tired of the savage life which he was obliged to
lead, while skulking among the wild Irish, he bent his course towards
Scotland, and presented himself to James IV., who then governed that
kingdom. He had been previously recommended to this prince by the king
of France, who was disgusted at Henry for entering into the general
league against him; and this recommendation was even seconded by
Maximilian, who, though one of the confederates, was also displeased
with the king, on account of his prohibiting in England all commerce
with the Low Countries. The countenance given to Perkin by these princes
procured him a favorable reception with the king of Scotland, who
assured him, that, whatever he were, he never should repent putting
himself in his hands:[*] the insinuating address and plausible behavior
of the youth himself, seem to have gained him credit and authority.
James, whom years had not yet taught distrust or caution, was seduced to
believe the story of Perkin’s birth and adventures; and he carried his
confidence so far as to give him in marriage the lady Catharine Gordon,
daughter of the earl of Huntley, and related to himself; a young lady
too, eminent for virtue as well as beauty.
* Bacon, p. 615. Polyd. Virg. p. 596, 597.
{1496.} There subsisted at that time a great jealousy between the courts
of England and Scotland; and James was probably the more forward on that
account to adopt any fiction which he thought might reduce his enemy
to distress or difficulty. He suddenly resolved to make an inroad into
England, attended by some of the borderers; and he carried Perkin along
with him, in hopes that the appearance of the pretended prince might
raise an insurrection in the northern counties. Perkin himself dispersed
a manifesto, in which he set forth his own story, and craved the
assistance of all his subjects in expelling the usurper, whose tyranny
and maladministration, whose depression of the nobility by the
elevation of mean persons, whose oppression of the people by multiplied
impositions and vexations, had justly, he said, rendered him odious
to all men. But Perkin’s pretensions, attended with repeated
disappointments, were now become stale in the eyes even of the populace;
and the hostile dispositions which subsisted between the kingdoms,
rendered a prince supported by the Scots but an unwelcome present to the
English nation. The ravages also committed by the borderers, accustomed
to license and disorder, struck a terror into all men, and made the
people prepare rather for repelling the invaders than for joining them.
Perkin, that he might support his pretensions to royal birth, feigned
great compassion for the misery of his plundered subjects, and publicly
remonstrated with his ally against the depredations exercised by the
Scottish army;[*] but James told him, that he doubted his concern was
employed only in behalf of an enemy, and that he was anxious to preserve
what never should belong to him. That prince now began to perceive that
his attempt would be fruitless; and hearing of an army which was on its
march to attack him, he thought proper to retreat into his own country.
* Polyd. Virg. p. 598.
The king discovered little anxiety to procure either reparation or
vengeance for this insult committed on him by the Scottish nation: his
chief concern was to draw advantage from it, by the pretence which it
might afford him to levy impositions on his own subjects. He summoned a
parliament, to whom he made bitter complaints against the irruption of
the Scots, the absurd imposture countenanced by that nation, the cruel
devastations committed in the northern counties, and the multiplied
insults thus offered both to the king and kingdom of England. The
parliament made the expected return to this discourse, by granting
a subsidy to the amount of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds,
together with two fifteenths. After making this grant, they were
dismissed.
{1497.} The vote of parliament for imposing the tax was without much
difficulty procured by the authority of Henry but he found it not
so easy to levy the money upon his subjects. The people, who were
acquainted with the immense treasures which he had amassed, could ill
brook the new impositions raised on every slight occasion; and it is
probable that the flaw which was universally known to be in his title,
made his reign the more subject to insurrections and rebellions. When
the subsidy began to be levied in Cornwall, the inhabitants, numerous
and poor, robust and courageous, murmured against a tax occasioned by a
sudden inroad of the Scots, from which they esteemed themselves entirely
secure, and which had usually been repelled by the force of the northern
counties. Their ill humor was further incited by one Michael Joseph, a
farrier of Bodmin, a notable prating fellow, who, by thrusting himself
forward on every occasion, and being loudest in every complaint against
the government, had acquired an authority among those rude people.
Thomas Flammoc, too, a lawyer, who had become the oracle of the
neighborhood, encouraged the sedition, by informing them that the tax,
though imposed by parliament, was entirely illegal; that the northern
nobility were bound by their tenures to defend the nation against the
Scots; and that if these new impositions were tamely submitted to,
the avarice of Henry and of his ministers would soon render the burden
intolerable to the nation. The Cornish, he said, must deliver to the
king a petition, seconded by such a force as would give it authority;
and in order to procure the concurrence of the rest of the kingdom,
care must be taken, by their orderly deportment, to show that they
had nothing in view but the public good, and the redress of all those
grievances under which the people had so long labored.
Encouraged by these speeches, the multitude flocked together, and armed
themselves with axes, bills, bows, and such weapons as country people
are usually possessed of. Flammoc and Joseph were chosen their leaders.
They soon conducted the Cornish through the county of Devon, and reached
that of Somerset. At Taunton, the rebels killed, in their fury, an
officious and eager commissioner of the subsidy, whom they called the
provost of Perin. When they reached Wells, they were joined by Lord
Audley, a nobleman of an ancient family, popular in his deportment, but
vain, ambitious and restless in his temper. He had from the beginning
maintained a secret correspondence with the first movers of the
insurrection, and was now joyfully received by them as their leader.
Proud of the countenance given them by so considerable a nobleman, they
continued their march, breathing destruction to the king’s ministers
and favorites, particularly to Morton, now a cardinal, and Sir
Reginald Bray, who were deemed the most active instruments in all his
oppressions. Notwithstanding their rage against the administration, they
carefully followed the directions given them by their leaders; and as
they met with no resistance, they committed, during their march, no
violence or disorder.
The rebels had been told by Flammoc that the inhabitants of Kent,
as they had ever, during all ages, remained unsubdued, and had even
maintained their independence during the Norman conquest, would surely
embrace their party, and declare themselves for a cause which was no
other than that of public good and general liberty. But the Kentish
people had very lately distinguished themselves by repelling Perkin’s
invasion; and as they had received from the king many gracious
acknowledgments for this service, their affections were by that means
much conciliated to his government. It was easy, therefore, for the
earl of Kent, Lord Abergavenny, and Lord Cobham, who possessed great
authority in those parts, to retain the people in obedience; and the
Cornish rebels, though they pitched their camp near Eltham, at the
very gates of London, and invited all the people to join them, got
reënforcement from no quarter. There wanted not discontents every where,
but no one would take part in so rash and ill-concerted an enterprise;
and besides, the situation in which the king’s affairs then stood
discouraged even the boldest and most daring.
Henry, in order to oppose the Scots, had already levied an army, which
he put under the command of Lord Daubeney, the chamberlain; and as
soon as he heard of the Cornish insurrection, he ordered it to march
southwards and suppress the rebels. Not to leave the northern frontier
defenceless, he despatched thither the earl of Surrey, who assembled the
forces on the borders, and made head against the enemy. Henry found
here the concurrence of the three most fatal incidents that can befall a
monarchy; a foreign enemy, a domestic rebellion, and a pretender to
his crown; but he enjoyed great resources in his army and treasure, and
still more in the intrepidity and courage of his own temper. He did not,
however, immediately give full scope to his military spirit. On other
occasions, he had always hastened to a decision; and it was a usual
saying with him, “that he desired but to see his rebels:” but as the
Cornish mutineers behaved in an inoffensive manner, and committed no
spoil on the country; as they received no accession of force on their
march or in their encampment, and as such hasty and popular tumults
might be expected to diminish every moment by delay; he took post in
London, and assiduously prepared the means of insuring victory.
After all his forces were collected, he divided them into three bodies,
and marched out to assail the enemy. The first body, commanded by the
earl of Oxford, and under him by the earls of Essex and Suffolk, were
appointed to place themselves behind the hill on which the rebels were
encamped: the second, and most considerable, Henry put under the command
of Lord Daubeney, and ordered him to attack the enemy in front, and
bring on the action. The third he kept as a body of reserve about his
own person, and took post in St. George’s Fields; where he secured the
city, and could easily, as occasion served, either restore the fight or
finish the victory. To put the enemy off their guard, he had spread
a report that he was not to attack them till some days after; and the
better to confirm them in this opinion, he began not the action till
near the evening. Daubeney beat a detachment of the rebels from Deptford
bridge; and before their main body could be in order to receive him, he
had gained the ascent of the hill, and placed himself in array before
them. They were formidable from their numbers, being sixteen thousand
strong, and were not defective in valor; but being tumultuary troops,
ill armed, and not provided with cavalry or artillery, they were but
an unequal match for the king’s forces. Daubeney began the attack with
courage, and even with a contempt of the enemy which had almost proved
fatal to him. He rushed into the midst of them, and was taken prisoner;
but soon after was released by his own troops. After some resistance,
the rebels were broken and put to flight.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 601.
Lord Audley, Flammoc, and Joseph, their leaders, were taken, and all
three executed. The latter seemed even to exult in his end, and boasted,
with a preposterous ambition, that he should make a figure in his tory.
The rebels, being surrounded on every side by the king’s troops, were
almost all made prisoners; and immediately dismissed without further
punishment: whether, that Henry was satisfied with the victims who had
fallen in the field, and who amounted to near two thousand, or that he
pitied the ignorance and simplicity of the multitude, or favored them
on account of their inoffensive behavior; or was pleased that they had
never, during their insurrection, disputed his title, and had shown
no attachment to the house of York, the highest crime of which, in his
eyes, they could have been guilty.
The Scottish king was not idle during these commotions in England. He
levied a considerable army, and sat down before the Castle of Norham, in
Northumberland; but found that place, by the precaution of Fox, bishop
of Durham, so well provided both with men and ammunition, that he made
little or no progress in the siege. Hearing that the earl of Surrey had
collected some forces, and was advancing upon him, he retreated into
his own country, and left the frontiers exposed to the inroads of the
English general, who besieged and took Aiton, a small castle lying a few
miles beyond Berwick. These unsuccessful or frivolous attempts on both
sides prognosticated a speedy end to the war; and Henry, notwithstanding
his superior force, was no less desirous than James of terminating
the differences between the nations. Not to depart, however, from his
dignity, by making the first advances, he employed in this friendly
office Peter Hialas, a man of address and learning, who had come to him
as ambassador from Ferdinand and Isabella, and who was charged with a
commission of negotiating the marriage of the Infanta Catharine, their
daughter, with Arthur, prince of Wales.[*]
* Polyd. Virg. p. 603.
Hialas took a journey northwards, and offered his mediation between
James and Henry, as minister of a prince who was in alliance with both
potentates. Commissioners were soon appointed to meet and confer on
terms of accommodation. The first demand of the English was, that Perkin
should be put into their hands: James replied, that he himself was
no judge of the young man’s pretensions; but having received him as a
supplicant, and promised him protection, he was determined not to betray
a man who had trusted to his good faith and his generosity. The next
demand of the English met with no better reception: they required
reparation for the ravages committed by the late inroads into England:
the Scottish commissioners replied, that the spoils were like water
spilt upon the ground, which could never be recovered; and that Henry’s
subjects were better able to bear the loss, than their master to repair
it. Henry’s commissioners next proposed, that the two kings should have
an interview at Newcastle, in order to adjust all differences; but James
said, that he meant to treat of a peace, not to go a begging for it.
Lest the conferences should break off altogether without effect, a truce
was concluded for some months; and James, perceiving that while Perkin
remained in Scotland he himself never should enjoy a solid peace with
Henry, privately desired him to depart the kingdom.
Access was now barred Perkin into the Low Countries, his usual retreat
in all his disappointments. The Flemish merchants, who severely felt the
loss resulting from the interruption of commerce with England, had made
such interest in the archduke’s council, that commissioners were sent to
London, in order to treat of an accommodation. The Flemish court agreed,
that all English rebels should be excluded the Low Countries; and in
this prohibition the demesnes of the duchess dowager were expressly
comprehended. When this principal article was agreed to, all the other
terms were easily adjusted. A treaty of commerce was finished, which was
favorable to the Flemings, and to which they long gave the appellation
of “intercursus magnus,” the great treaty. And when the English
merchants returned to their usual abode at Antwerp, they were publicly
received, as in procession, with joy and festivity.
Perkin was a Fleming by descent, though born in England; and it might
therefore be doubted whether he were included in the treaty between the
two nations: but as he must dismiss all his English retainers if he took
shelter in the Low Countries, and as he was sure of a cold reception,
if not bad usage, among people who were determined to keep on terms
of friendship with the court of England, he thought fit rather to
hide himself during some time in the wilds and fastnesses of Ireland.
Impatient, however, of a retreat which was both disagreeable and
dangerous, he held consultations with his followers, Herne, Skelton, and
Astley, three broken tradesmen: by their advice he resolved to try the
affections of the Cornish, whose mutinous disposition, notwithstanding
the king’s lenity, still subsisted after the suppression of their
rebellion. No sooner did he appear at Bodmin, in Cornwall, than the
populace, to the number of three thousand, flocked to his standard, and
Perkin, elated with this appearance of success, took on him, for the
first time, the appellation of Richard IV., king of England. Not to
suffer the expectations of his followers to languish, he presented
himself before Exeter; and by many fair promises invited that city to
join him. Finding that the inhabitants shut their gates against him,
he laid siege to the place; but being unprovided with artillery,
ammunition, and every thing requisite for the attempt, he made no
progress in his undertaking. Messengers were sent to the king, informing
him of this insurrection: the citizens of Exeter meanwhile were
determined to hold out to the last extremity, in expectation of
receiving succor from the well-known vigilance of that monarch.
When Henry was informed that Perkin was landed in England, he expressed
great joy, and prepared himself with alacrity to attack him, in hopes of
being able, at length, to put a period to pretensions which had so long
given him vexation and inquietude. All the courtiers, sensible that
their activity on this occasion would be the most acceptable service
which they could render the king, displayed their zeal for the
enterprise, and forwarded his preparations. The lords Daubeney and
Broke, with Sir Rice ap Thomas, hastened forward with a small body of
troops to the relief of Exeter. The earl of Devonshire, and the most
considerable gentlemen in the county of that name, took arms of their
own accord, and marched to join the king’s generals. The duke of
Buckingham put himself at the head of a troop, consisting of young
nobility and gentry, who served as volunteers, and who longed for an
opportunity of displaying their courage and their loyalty. The king
himself prepared to follow with a considerable army; and thus all
England seemed united against a pretender who had at first engaged their
attention and divided their affections.
Perkin, informed of these great preparations, immediately raised the
siege of Exeter, and retired to Taunton. Though his followers now
amounted to the number of near seven thousand, and seemed still resolute
to maintain his cause, he himself despaired of success, and secretly
withdrew to the sanctuary of Beaulieu, in the new forest. The Cornish
rebels submitted to the king’s mercy, and found that it was not yet
exhausted in their behalf. Except a few persons of desperate fortunes,
who were executed, and some others who were severely fined, all the rest
were dismissed with impunity Lady Catharine Gordon, wife to Perkin fell
into the hands of the victor, and was treated with a generosity which
does him honor. He soothed her mind with many marks of regard, placed
her in a reputable station about the queen and assigned her a pension,
which she enjoyed even under his successor.
{1498.} Henry deliberated what course to take with Perkin himself. Some
counselled him to make the privileges of the church yield to reasons of
state, to take him by violence from the sanctuary, to inflict on him
the punishment due to his temerity, and thus at once to put an end to
an imposture which had long disturbed the government, and which the
credulity of the people and the artifices of malcontents were still
capable of reviving. But the king deemed not the matter of such
importance as to merit so violent a remedy, He employed some persons to
deal with Perkin, and persuade him, under promise of pardon, to deliver
himself into the king’s hands.[*] The king conducted him in a species of
mock triumph to London. As Perkin passed along the road and through
the streets of the city, men of all ranks flocked about him, and the
populace treated with the highest derision his fallen fortunes. They
seemed desirous of revenging themselves, by their insults, for the shame
which their former belief of his impostures had thrown upon them. Though
the eyes of the nation were generally opened with regard to Perkin’s
real parentage, Henry required of him a confession of his life and
adventures; and he ordered the account of the whole to be dispersed soon
after, for the satisfaction of the public. But as his regard to decency
made him entirely suppress the share which the duchess of Burgundy had
had in contriving and conducting the imposture, the people, who knew
that she had been the chief instrument in the whole affair, were
inclined, on account of the silence on that head, to pay the less credit
to the authenticity of the narrative.
* Polyd. Virg. p. 606.
{1499.} But Perkin, though his life was granted him, was still detained
in custody; and keepers were appointed to guard him. Impatient of
confinement, he broke from his keepers, and flying to the sanctuary of
Shyne, put himself into the hands of the prior of that monastery. The
prior had obtained great credit by his character of sanctity; and he
prevailed on the king again to grant a pardon to Perkin. But in order
to reduce him to still greater contempt, he was set in the stocks at
Westminster and Cheapside, and obliged in both places to read aloud to
the people the confession which had formerly been published in his name.
He was then confined to the Tower, where his habits of restless intrigue
and enterprise followed him. He insinuated himself into the intimacy of
four servants of Sir John Digby, lieutenant of the Tower; and by their
means opened a correspondence with the earl of Warwick, who was confined
in the same prison. This unfortunate prince, who had from his earliest
youth been shut up from the commerce of men, and who was ignorant even
of the most common Affairs of life, had fallen into a simplicity which
made him susceptible of any impression. The continued dread also of the
more violent effects of Henry’s tyranny, joined to the natural love of
liberty, engaged him to embrace a project for his escape, by the murder
of the lieutenant; and Perkin offered to conduct the whole enterprise.
The conspiracy escaped not the king’s vigilance: it was even very
generally believed, that the scheme had been laid by himself, in order
to draw Warwick and Perkin into the snare; but the subsequent execution
of two of Digby’s servants for the contrivance seems to clear the king
of that imputation, which was indeed founded more on the general idea
entertained of his character than on any positive evidence.
Perkin, by this new attempt, after so many enormities, had rendered
himself totally unworthy of mercy; and he was accordingly arraigned,
condemned, and soon after hanged at Tyburn, persisting still in the
confession of his imposture.[*] [1] It happened about that very time
that one Wilford, a cordwainer’s son, encouraged by the surprising
credit given to other impostures, had undertaken to personate the earl
of Warwick; and a priest had even ventured from the pulpit to recommend
his cause to the people, who seemed still to retain a propensity to
adopt it. This incident served Henry as a pretence for his severity
towards that prince. He was brought to trial, and accused, not of
contriving his escape, (for as he was committed for no crime, the desire
of liberty must have been regarded as natural and innocent,) but of
forming designs to disturb the government, and raise an insurrection
among the people. Warwick confessed the indictment was condemned, and
the sentence was executed upon him.
* See note A, at the end of the volume.
This violent act of tyranny, the great blemish of Henry’s reign, by
which he destroyed the last remaining male of the line of Plantagenet,
begat great discontent among the people, who saw an unhappy prince, that
had long been denied all the privileges of his high birth, even been
cut off from the common benefits of nature, now at last deprived of life
itself, merely for attempting to shake off that oppression under which
he labored. In vain did Henry endeavor to alleviate the odium of this
guilt, by sharing it with his ally, Ferdinand of Arragon, who, he said,
had scrupled to give his daughter Catharine in marriage to Arthur while
any male descendant of the house of York remained. Men, on the contrary,
felt higher indignation at seeing a young prince sacrificed, not to
law and justice, but to the jealous politics of two subtle and crafty
tyrants.
But though these discontents festered in the minds of men, they were so
checked by Henry’s watchful policy and steady severity, that they seemed
not to weaken his government; and foreign princes, deeming his
throne now entirely secure, paid him rather the greater deference and
attention. The archduke Philip, in particular, desired an interview with
him; and Henry, who had passed over to Calais, agreed to meet him in
St. Peter’s church, near that city. The archduke, on his approaching the
king, made haste to alight, and offered to hold Henry’s stirrup; a mark
of condescension which that prince would not admit of. He called
the king “father,” “patron,” “protector;” and by his whole behavior
expressed a strong desire of conciliating the friendship of England. The
duke of Orleans had succeeded to the crown of France by the appellation
of Lewis XII.; and having carried his arms into Italy, and subdued the
duchy of Milan, his progress begat jealousy in Maximilian, Philip’s
father, as well as in Ferdinand, his father-in-law. By the counsel,
therefore, of these monarchs, the young prince endeavored by every
art to acquire the amity of Henry, whom they regarded as the chief
counterpoise to the greatness of France. No particular plan, however, of
alliance seems to have been concerted between these two princes in their
interview: all passed in general professions of affection and regard;
at least, in remote projects of a closer union, by the future
intermarriages of their children, who were then in a state of infancy.
{1500.} The Pope, too, Alexander VI., neglected not the friendship of a
monarch whose reputation was spread over Europe. He sent a nuncio
into England, who exhorted the king to take part in the great alliance
projected for the recovery of the Holy Land, and to lead in person his
forces against the infidels. The general frenzy for crusades was now
entirely exhausted in Europe; but it was still thought a necessary piece
of decency to pretend zeal for those pious enterprises. Henry regretted
to the nuncio the distance of his situation, which rendered it
inconvenient for him to expose his person in defence of the Christian
cause. He promised, however, his utmost assistance by aids and
contributions; and rather than the pope should go alone to the holy
wars, unaccompanied by any monarch, he even promised to overlook all
other considerations, and to attend him in person. He only required,
as a necessary condition, that all differences should previously be
adjusted among Christian princes, and that some seaport towns in Italy
should be consigned to him for his retreat and security. It was easy to
conclude that Henry had determined not to intermeddle in any war against
the Turk; but as a great name, without any real assistance, is sometimes
of service, the knights of Rhodes, who were at that time esteemed the
bulwark of Christendom, chose the king protector of their order.
But the prince whose alliance Henry valued the most was Ferdinand of
Arragon, whose vigorous and steady policy, always attended with success,
had rendered him in many respects the most considerable monarch in
Europe. There was also a remarkable similarity of character between
these two princes; both were full of craft, intrigue, and design:
and though a resemblance of this nature be a slender foundation for
confidence and amity, where the interests of the parties in the least
interfere, such was the situation of Henry and Ferdinand, that no
jealousy ever on any occasion arose between them. The king had now the
satisfaction of completing a marriage, which had been projected and
negotiated during the course of seven years, between Arthur, prince
of Wales, and the infanta Catharine, fourth daughter of Ferdinand and
Isabella; he near sixteen years of age, she eighteen. But this marriage
proved in the issue unprosperous. The young prince, a few months after,
sickened and died, much regretted by the nation.
{1502.} Henry, desirous to continue his alliance with Spain, and also
unwilling to restore Catharine’s dowry, which was two hundred thousand
ducats, obliged his second son, Henry, whom he created prince of Wales,
to be contracted to the infanta. The prince made all the opposition
of which a youth of twelve years of age was capable; but as the king
persisted in his resolution, the espousals were at length, by means of
the pope’s dispensation, contracted between the parties; an event which
was afterwards attended with the most important consequences.
The same year another marriage was celebrated, which was also, in the
next age, productive of great events; the marriage of Margaret, the
king’s eldest daughter, with James, king of Scotland. This alliance
had been negotiated during three years, though interrupted by several
broils; and Henry hoped, from the completion of it, to remove all source
of discord with that neighboring kingdom, by whose animosity England
had so often been infested. When this marriage was deliberated on in
the English council, some objected, that England might, by means of
that alliance, fall under the dominion of Scotland. “No,” replied Henry,
“Scotland, in that event, will only become an accession to England.”
{1503.} Amidst these prosperous incidents, the king met with a domestic
calamity, which made not such impression on him as it merited: his queen
died in childbed; and the infant did not long survive her. This princess
was deservedly a favorite of the nation; and the general affection for
her increased, on account of the harsh treatment which it was thought
she met with from her consort.
The situation of the king’s affairs, both at home and abroad, was now in
every respect very fortunate. All the efforts of the European princes,
both in war and negotiation, were turned to the side of Italy; and the
various events which there arose, made Henry’s alliance be courted by
every party, yet interested him so little as never to touch him with
concern or anxiety. His close connections with-Spain and Scotland
insured his tranquillity; and his continued successes over domestic
enemies, owing to the prudence and vigor of his conduct, had reduced the
people to entire submission and obedience. Uncontrolled, therefore,
by apprehension or opposition of any kind, he gave full scope to his
natural propensity; and avarice, which had ever been his ruling passion
being increased by age and encouraged by absolute authority broke all
restraints of shame or justice. He had found two ministers Empson and
Dudley, perfectly qualified to second his rapacious and tyrannical
inclinations, and to prey upon his defenceless people. These instruments
of oppression were both lawyers; the first of mean birth, of brutal
manners, of an unrelenting temper; the second better born, better
educated, and better bred, but equally unjust, severe, and inflexible.
By their knowledge in law, these men were qualified to pervert the
forms of justice to the oppression of the innocent; and the formidable
authority of the king supported them in all their iniquities.
It was their usual practice, at first, to observe so far the appearance
of law as to give indictments to those whom they intended to oppress;
upon which the persons were committed to prison, but never brought to
trial; and were at length obliged, in order to recover their liberty,
to pay heavy fines and ransoms, which were called mitigations and
compositions. By degrees, the very appearance of law was neglected: the
two ministers sent forth their precepts to attach men, and summon them
before themselves and some others, at their private houses, in a court
of commission, where, in a summary manner, without trial or jury,
arbitrary decrees were issued, both in pleas of the crown and
controversies between private parties. Juries themselves, when summoned,
proved but small security to the subject; being browbeaten by these
oppressors; nay, fined, imprisoned, and punished, if they gave sentence
against the inclination of the ministers The whole system of the feudal
law, which still prevailed, was turned into a scheme of oppression. Even
the king’s wards, after they came of age, were not suffered to enter
into possession of their lands without paying exorbitant fines. Men
were also harassed with informations of intrusion upon scarce colorable
titles. When an outlawry in a personal action was issued against any
man, he was not allowed to purchase his charter of pardon, except on the
payment of a great sum; and if he refused the composition required of
him, the strict law, which in such cases allows forfeiture of goods, was
rigorously insisted on. Nay, without any color of law, the half of men’s
lands and rents were seized during two years, as a penalty in case of
outlawry. But the chief means of oppression employed by these ministers
were the penal statutes, which, without consideration of rank, quality,
or services, were rigidly put in execution against all men: spies,
informers, and inquisitors were rewarded and encouraged in every quarter
of the kingdom: and no difference was made, whether the statute were
beneficial or hurtful, recent or obsolete, possible or impossible to be
executed. The sole end of the king and his ministers was to amass money,
and bring every one under the lash of their authority.[*]
Through the prevalence of such an arbitrary and iniquitous
administration, the English, it may safely be affirmed, were
considerable losers by their ancient privileges, which secured them
from all taxations, except such as were imposed by their own consent
in parliament. Had the king been empowered to levy general taxes at
pleasure, he would naturally have abstained from these oppressive
expedients, which destroyed all security in private property, and begat
a universal diffidence throughout the nation. In vain did the people
look for protection from the parliament, which was pretty frequently
summoned during this reign.
{1504.} That assembly was so overawed, that at this very time, during
the greatest rage of Henry’s oppressions, the commons chose Dudley their
speaker, the very man who was the chief instrument of his iniquities.
And though the king was known to be immensely opulent, and had no
pretence of wars or expensive enterprises of any kind, they granted him
the subsidy which he demanded. But so insatiable was his avarice, that
next year he levied a new benevolence, and renewed that arbitrary and
oppressive method of taxation.
{1505.} By all these arts of accumulation, joined to a rigid frugality
in his expense, he so filled his coffers, that he is said to have
possessed in ready money the sum of one million eight hundred thousand
pounds; a treasure almost incredible, if we consider the scarcity of
money in those times.[**]
* Bacon, p. 629, 630. Holingshed, p. 504. Polyd. Virg. p.
613, 615.
** Silver was during this reign at thirty-seven shillings
and six pence a pound, which makes Henry’s treasure near
three millions of our present money. Besides, many
commodities have become above thrice as dear by the increase
of gold and silver in Europe. And what is a circumstance of
still greater weight, all other states were then very poor,
in comparison of what they are at present. These
circumstances make Henry’s treasure appear very great, and
may lead us to conceive the oppressions of his government.
But while Henry was enriching himself by the spoils of his oppressed
people, there happened an event abroad which engaged his attention,
and was even the object of his anxiety and concern: Isabella, queen of
Castile, died about this time and it was foreseen that by this incident
the fortunes of Ferdinand, her husband, would be much affected. The king
was not only attentive to the fate of his ally, and watchful lest the
general system of Europe should be affected by so important an event;
he also considered the similarity of his own situation with that of
Ferdinand, and regarded the issue of these transactions as a precedent
for himself. Joan, the daughter of Ferdinand by Isabella, was married to
the archduke Philip, and being, in right of her mother, heir of Castile,
seemed entitled to dispute with Ferdinand the present possession of that
kingdom. Henry knew that, notwithstanding his own pretensions by the
house of Lancaster, the greater part of the nation was convinced of
the superiority of his wife’s title; and he dreaded lest the prince
of Wales, who was daily advancing towards manhood, might be tempted by
ambition to lay immediate claim to the crown. By his perpetual attention
to depress the partisans of the York family, he had more closely united
them into one party, and increased their desire of shaking off that
yoke under which they had so long labored, and of taking every advantage
which his oppressive government should give his enemies against him.
And as he possessed no independent force like Ferdinand, and governed
a kingdom more turbulent and unruly, which he himself by his narrow
politics had confirmed in factious prejudices, he apprehended that his
situation would prove in the issue still more precarious.
Nothing at first could turn out more contrary to the king’s wishes than
the transactions in Spain. Ferdinand, as well as Henry, had become very
unpopular, and from a like cause, his former exactions and impositions;
and the states of Castile discovered an evident resolution of preferring
the title of Philip and Joan.
{1506.} In order, to take advantage of these favorable dispositions, the
archduke, now king of Castile, attended by his consort, embarked for
Spain during the winter season; but meeting with a violent tempest in
the Channel, was obliged to take shelter in the harbor of Weymouth. Sir
John Trenchard, a gentleman of authority in the county of Dorset,
hearing of a fleet upon the coast, had assembled some forces; and being
joined by Sir John Cary, who was also at the head of an armed body, he
came to that town. Finding that Philip, in order to relieve his sickness
and fatigue, was already come ashore, he invited him to his house; and
immediately despatched a messenger to inform the court of this important
incident. The king sent in all haste the earl of Arundel to compliment
Philip on his arrival in England, and to inform him that he intended to
pay him a visit in person, and to give him a suitable reception in his
dominions. Philip knew that he could not now depart without the king’s
consent; and therefore, for the sake of despatch, he resolved to
anticipate his visit, and to have an interview with him at Windsor.
Henry received him with all the magnificence possible, and with all the
seeming cordiality; but he resolved, notwithstanding, to draw some
advantage from this involuntary visit paid him by his royal guest.
Edmond de la Pole, earl of Suffolk, nephew to Edward IV. and brother to
the earl of Lincoln, slain in the battle of Stoke, had some years before
killed a man in a sudden fit of passion, and had been obliged to apply
to the king for a remission of the crime. The king had granted his
request; but, being little indulgent to all persons connected with the
house of York, he obliged him to appear openly in court and plead his
pardon. Suffolk, more resenting the affront than grateful for the favor,
had fled into Flanders, and taken shelter with his aunt, the duchess
of Burgundy; but being promised forgiveness by the king, he returned to
England, and obtained a new pardon. Actuated, however, by the natural
inquietude of his temper and uneasy from debts which he had contracted
by his great expense at Prince Arthur’s wedding, he again made an
elopement into Flanders. The king, well acquainted with the general
discontent which prevailed against his administration neglected not this
incident, which might become of importance, and he employed his usual
artifices to elude the efforts of his enemies. He directed Sir Robert
Curson, governor of the castle of Hammes, to desert his charge, and to
insinuate himself into the confidence of Suffolk, by making him a tender
of his services. Upon information secretly conveyed by Curson, the
king seized William Courtney, eldest son to the earl of Devonshire, and
married to the lady Catharine, sister of the queen; William de la Pole,
brother to the earl of Suffolk; Sir James Tyrrel, and Sir James Windham,
with some persons of inferior quality; and he committed them to custody.
Lord Abergavenny and Sir Thomas Green were also apprehended; but were
soon after released from their confinement. William de la Pole was long
detained in prison: Courtney was attainted, and, though not executed, he
recovered not his liberty during the king’s lifetime. But Henry’s chief
severity fell upon Sir James Windham and Sir James Tyrrel, who were
brought to their trial, condemned, and executed: the fate of the latter
gave general satisfaction, on account of his participation in the murder
of the young princes, sons of Edward IV. Notwithstanding these
discoveries and executions, Curson was still able to maintain his credit
with the earl of Suffolk: Henry, in order to remove all suspicion, had
ordered him to be excommunicated, together with Suffolk himself, for his
pretended rebellion. But after that traitor had performed all the
services expected from him, he suddenly deserted the earl, and came over
to England, where the king received him with unusual marks of favor and
confidence. Suffolk, astonished at this instance of perfidy, finding
that even the duchess of Burgundy, tired with so many fruitless
attempts, had become indifferent to his cause, fled secretly into
France, thence into Germany, and returned at last into the Low
Countries; where he was protected, though not countenanced, by Philip,
then in close alliance with the king.
Henry neglected not the present opportunity of complaining to his guest
of the reception which Suffolk had met with in his dominions. “I really
thought,” replied the king of Castile, “that your greatness and felicity
had set you far above apprehensions from any person of so little
consequence: but, to give you satisfaction, I shall banish him my
state.” “I expect that you will carry your complaisance further,” said
the king; “I desire to have Suffolk put into my hands, where alone I can
depend upon his submission and obedience.” “That measure,” said Philip,
“will reflect dishonor upon you as well as myself. You will be thought
to have treated me as a prisoner.” “Then the matter is at an end,”
replied the king; “for I will take that dishonor upon me; and so your
honor is saved.”[*] The king of Castile found himself under a necessity
of complying; but he first exacted Henry’s promise that he would spare
Suffolk’s life. That nobleman was invited over to England by Philip; as
if the king would grant him a pardon, on the intercession of his friend
and ally. Upon his appearance, he was committed to the Tower; and
the king of Castile, having fully satisfied Henry, as well by this
concession as by signing a treaty of commerce between England and
Castile, which was advantageous to the former kingdom,[*] was at last
allowed to depart, after a stay of three months.
* Bacon, p. 633.
** Rymer, vol. xiii. p. 142.
He landed in Spain, was joyfully received by the Castilians, and pit in
possession of the throne.
{1507.} He died soon after; and Joan, his widow, falling into deep
melancholy Ferdinand was again enabled to reinstate himself in
authority, and to govern, till the day of his death, the whole Spanish
monarchy.
The king survived these transactions two years; but nothing memorable
occurs in the remaining part of his reign, except his affiancing his
second daughter, Mary, to the young archduke Charles, son of Philip of
Castile.
{1508.} He entertained also some intentions of marriage for himself,
first with the queen dowager of Naples, relict of Ferdinand; afterwards
with the duchess dowager of Savoy, daughter of Maximilian, and sister of
Philip. But the decline of his health put an end to all such thoughts;
and he began to cast his eye towards that future existence which the
iniquities and severities of his reign rendered a very dismal prospect
to him. To allay the terrors under which he labored, he endeavored, by
distributing alms and founding religious houses, to make atonement for
his crimes, and to purchase, by the sacrifice of part of his ill-gotten
treasures, a reconciliation with his offended Maker. Remorse even seized
him at intervals for the abuse of his authority by Empson and Dudley;
but not sufficient to make him stop the rapacious hand of those
oppressors. Sir William Capel was again fined two thousand pounds under
some frivolous pretence, and was committed to the Tower for daring
to murmur against the iniquity. Harris, an alderman of London, was
indicted, and died of vexation before his trial came to an issue.
Sir Laurence Ailmer, who had been mayor, and his two sheriffs, were
condemned in heavy fines, and sent to prison till they made payment.
The king gave countenance to all these oppressions; till death, by its
nearer approaches, impressed new terrors upon him; and he then ordered,
by a general clause in his will, that restitution should be made to
all those whom he had injured.
{1509.} He died of a consumption at his favorite palace of Richmond,
after a reign of twenty-three years and eight months, and in the
fifty-second year of his age.[*]
* Dagd. Baronage, ii. p. 237.
The reign of Henry VII. was, in the main, fortunate for his people at
home, and honorable abroad. He put an end to the civil wars with which
the nation had long been harassed, he maintained peace and order in the
state, he depressed the former exorbitant power of the nobility, and,
together with the friendship of some foreign princes, he acquired the
consideration and regard of all. He loved peace without fearing war
though agitated with continual suspicions of his servants and ministers,
he discovered no timidity, either in the conduct of his affairs, or in
the day of battle; and though often severe in his punishments, he was
commonly less actuated by revenge than by maxims of policy. The services
which he rendered the people were derived from his views of private
advantage, rather than the motives of public spirit; and where he
deviated from interested regards, it was unknown to himself, and ever
from the malignant prejudices of faction, or the mean projects of
avarice; not from the sallies of passion, or allurements of pleasure;
still less from the benign motives of friendship and generosity. His
capacity was excellent, but somewhat contracted by the narrowness of his
heart; he possessed insinuation and address, but never employed these
talents, except where some great point of interest was to be gained; and
while he neglected to conciliate the affections of his people, he often
felt the danger of resting his authority on their fear and reverence
alone. He was always extremely attentive to his affairs; but possessed
not the faculty of seeing far into futurity; and was more expert at
providing a remedy for his mistakes than judicious in avoiding them.
Avarice was, on the whole, his ruling passion;[*] and he remains an
instance, almost singular, of a man placed hi a high station,
and possessed of talents for great affairs, in whom that passion
pre-dominated above ambition. Even among private persons, avarice is
commonly nothing but a species of ambition, and is chiefly incited
by the prospect of that regard, distinction, and consideration, which
attend on riches.
* As a proof of Henry’s attention to the smallest profits,
Bacon tells us, that he had seen a book of accounts kept by
Empson, and subscribed in almost every leaf by the king’s
own hand. Among other articles was the following: “Item.
Received of such a one five marks for a pardon, which if it
do not pass, the money to be repaid, or the party otherwise
satisfied.” Opposite to the memorandum, the king had writ
with his own hand, “Otherwise satisfied.” Bacon, p. 630.
The power of the kings of England had always been somewhat irregular
or discretionary; but was scarcely ever so absolute during any former
reign, at least after the establishment of the Great Charter, as during
that of Henry Besides the advantages derived from the personal character
of the man, full of vigor, industry, and severity, deliberate in all
projects, steady in every purpose, and attended with caution as well as
good fortune in every enterprise; he came to the throne after long and
bloody civil wars, which had destroyed all the great nobility, who alone
could resist the encroachments of his authority; the people were
tired with discord and intestine convulsions, and willing to submit to
usurpations, and even to injuries, rather than plunge themselves anew
into like miseries: the fruitless efforts made against him served
always, as is usual, to confirm his authority: as he ruled by a faction,
and the lesser faction, all those on whom he conferred offices, sensible
that they owed every thing to his protection, were willing to support
his power, though at the expense of justice and national privileges.
These seem the chief causes which at this time bestowed on the crown so
considerable an addition of prerogative, and rendered the present reign
a kind of epoch in the English constitution.
This prince, though he exalted his prerogative above law is celebrated
by his historian for many good laws, which he made be enacted for the
government of his subjects. Several considerable regulations, indeed,
are found among the statutes of this reign, both with regard to the
police of the kingdom, and its commerce: but the former are generally
contrived with much better judgment than the latter. The more simple
ideas of order and equity are sufficient to guide a legislator in every
thing that regards the internal administration of justice: but the
principles of commerce are much more complicated, and require long
experience and deep reflection to be well understood in any state. The
real consequence of a law or practice is there often contrary to first
appearances. No wonder that during the reign of Henry VII.[*,] these
matters were frequently mistaken; and it may safely be affirmed, that
even in the age of Lord Bacon, very imperfect and erroneous ideas were
formed on that subject.
Early in Henry’s reign, the authority of the star chamber, which was
before founded on common law and ancient practice, was in some cases
confirmed by act of parliament: [*] [2] Lord Bacon extols the utility of
this court; but men began even during the age of that historian, to feel
that so arbitrary a jurisdiction was incompatible with liberty; and
in proportion as the spirit of independence still rose higher in the
nation, the aversion to it increased, till it was entirely abolished
by act of parliament in the reign of Charles I., a little before the
commencement of the civil wars.
* See note B, at the end of the volume.
Laws were passed in this reign, ordaining the king’s suit for murder to
be carried on within a year and a day.[*] Formerly it did not usually
commence till after; and as the friends of the person murdered often in
the interval compounded matters with the criminal, the crime frequently
passed unpunished. Suits were given to the poor “in forma pauperis,” as
it is called; that is, without paying dues for the writs, or any fees to
the council:[**] a good law at all times, especially in that age,
when the people labored under the oppression of the great; but a law
difficult to be carried into execution. A law was made against carrying
off any woman by force.[***] The benefit of clergy was abridged;[****]
and the criminal, on the first offence, was ordered to be burned in
the hand with a letter denoting his crime; after which he was punished
capitally for any new offence. Sheriffs were no longer allowed to fine
any person, without previously summoning him before their court.[v] It
is strange that such a practice should ever have prevailed. Attaint of
juries was granted in cases which exceeded forty pounds’ value; [v*] a
law which has an appearance of equity, but which was afterwards found
inconvenient. Actions popular were not allowed to be eluded by fraud or
covin. If any servant of the king’s conspired against the life of the
steward, treasurer, or comptroller of the king’s household, this design,
though not followed by any overt act, was made liable to the punishment
of felony.[v**] This statute was enacted for the security of Archbishop
Morton, who found himself exposed to the enmity of great numbers.
There scarcely passed any session during this reign without some statute
against engaging retainers, and giving them badges or liveries; [v***]
a practice by which they were in a manner enlisted under some great lord
and were kept in readiness to assist him in all wars, insurrections,
riots, violences, and even in bearing evidence for him in courts of
justice.[v****]
* 3 Henry VII. cap. 1.
** 11 Henry VII. cap. 12.
*** 3 Henry VII. cap. 2.
**** 4 Henry VII. cap. 13.
v 11 Henry VII. cap. 15.
v* 11 Henry VII. cap. 24.
v** 19 Henry VII. cap. 3.
v*** 3 Henry VII. cap 13.
v**** 3 Henry VII. cap 1 and 12.
This disorder, which had prevailed during many reigns, when the law
could give little protection to the subject, was then deeply rooted
in England; and it required all the vigilance and rigor of Henry to
extirpate it. There is a story of his severity against this abuse; and
it seems to merit praise, though it is commonly cited as an instance of
his avarice and rapacity. The earl of Oxford, his favorite general, in
whom he always placed great and deserved confidence, having splendidly
entertained him at his castle of Heningham, was desirous of making a
parade of his magnificence at the departure of his royal guest, and
ordered all his retainers, with their liveries and badges, to be drawn
up in two lines, that their appearance might be the more gallant
and splendid. “My lord,” said the king, “I have heard much of your
hospitality, but the truth far exceeds the report. These handsome
gentlemen and yeomen, whom I see on both sides of me, are no doubt your
menial servants.” The earl smiled, and confessed that his fortune was
too narrow for such magnificence. “They are most of them,” subjoined
he, “my retainers, who are come to do me service at this time, when
they know I am honored with your majesty’s presence.” The king started
a little, and said, “By my faith, my lord, I thank you for your good
cheer, but I must not allow my laws to be broken in my sight. My
attorney must speak with you.” Oxford is said to have paid no less than
fifteen thousand marks, as a composition for his offence.
The increase of the arts, more effectually than all the severities of
law, put an end to this pernicious practice. The nobility, instead of
vying with each other in the number and boldness of their retainers,
acquired by degrees a more civilized species of emulation, and
endeavored to excel in the splendor and elegance of their equipage,
houses, and tables. The common people, no longer maintained in vicious
idleness by their superiors, were obliged to learn some calling or
industry, and became useful both to themselves and to others. And it
must be acknowledged, in spite of those who declaim so violently against
refinement in the arts, or what they are pleased to call luxury, that,
as much as an industrious tradesman is both a better man and a better
citizen than one of those idle retainers who formerly depended on the
great families, so much is the life of a modern nobleman more laudable
than that of an ancient baron.[*]
But the most important law, in its consequences, which was enacted
during the reign of Henry, was that by which the nobility and gentry
acquired a power of breaking the ancient entails, and of alienating
their estates.[*] By means of this law, joined to the beginning luxury
and refinements of the age, the great fortunes of the barons were
gradually dissipated, and the property of the commons increased
in England. It is probable that Henry foresaw and intended this
consequence; because the constant scheme of his policy consisted in
depressing the great, and exalting churchmen, lawyers, and men of new
families, who were more dependent on him.
This king’s love of money naturally led him to encourage commerce, which
increased his customs; but, if we may judge by most of the laws enacted
during his reign, trade and industry were rather hurt than promoted
by the care and attention given to them. Severe laws were made against
taking interest for money, which was then denominated usury.[*] [3] Even
the profits of exchange were prohibited, as savoring of usury,[**] which
the superstition of the age zealously proscribed. All evasive contracts,
by which profits could be made from the loan of money, were also
carefully guarded against.[***] It is needless to observe how
unreasonable and iniquitous these laws, how impossible to be executed,
and how hurtful to trade, if they could take place. We may observe,
however, to the praise of this king, that sometimes, in order to promote
commerce, he lent to merchants sums of money without interest, when he
knew that their stock was not sufficient for those enterprises which
they had in view.[****]
Laws were made against the exportation of money, plate, or bullion:
[v] a precaution which serves to no other purpose than to make more be
exported.
* See note C, at the end of the volume.
** 4 Henry VII. cap. 24. The practice of breaking entails by
means of a fine and recovery was introduced in the reign of
Edward IV.: but it was not, properly speaking, law, till the
statute of Henry VII.; which, by correcting some abuses that
attended that practice, gave indirectly a sanction to it.
*** 3 Henry VII. cap. 5.
**** 3 Henry VII. cap. 6.
v 7 Henry VII. cap. 8.
But so far was the anxiety on this head carried, that merchants alien,
who imported commodities into the kingdom, were obliged to invest in
English commodities all the money acquired by their sales, in order to
prevent their conveying it away in a clandestine manner.[*]
It was prohibited to export horses; as if that exportation did not
encourage the breed, and render them more plentiful in the kingdom.[**]
In order to promote archery, no bows were to be sold at a higher
price than six shillings and fourpence,[***] reducing money to the
denomination of our time. The only effect of this regulation must be,
either that the people would be supplied with bad bows, or none at all.
Prices were also affixed to woollen cloth,[****] to caps and hats:[v]
and the wages of laborers were regulated by law.[v*] It is evident,
that these matters ought always to be left free, and be intrusted to
the common course of business and commerce. To some it may appear
surprising, that the price of a yard of scarlet cloth should be limited
to six and twenty shillings, money of our age; that of a yard of colored
cloth to eighteen; higher prices than these commodities bear at present;
and that the wages of a tradesman, such as a mason, bricklayer, tiler,
etc., should be regulated at near tenpence a day; which is not much
inferior to the present wages given in some parts of England. Labor and
commodities have certainly risen since the discovery of the West Indies;
but not so much in every particular as is generally imagined. The
greater industry of the present times has increased the number of
tradesmen and laborers, so as to keep wages nearer a par than could be
expected from the great increase of gold and silver. And the additional
art employed in the finer manufactures has even made some of these
commodities fall below their former value. Not to mention, that
merchants and dealers, being contented with less profit than formerly,
afford the goods cheaper to their customers. It appears by a statute of
this reign,[v**] that goods bought for sixteenpence would sometimes be
sold by the merchants for three shillings.
* 3 Henry VII cap. 8.
** 11 Henry VII. cap. 13.
*** 3 Henry VII. cap. 12.
**** 4 Henry VII. cap. 8.
v 4 Henry VII. cap. 9.
v* 11 Henry VII. cap. 22.
v** 4 Henry VII. cap. 9.
The commodities whose price has chiefly risen, are butcher’s meat, fowl,
and fish, (especially the latter,) which cannot be much augmented in
quantity by the increase of art and industry. The profession which then
abounded most, and was sometimes embraced by persons of the lowest rank,
was the church: by a clause of a statute, all clerks or students of
the university were forbidden to beg, without a permission from the
vice-chancellor.[*]
One great cause of the low state of industry during this period, was the
restraints put upon it; and the parliament, or rather the king, (for
he was the prime mover in every thing,) enlarged a little some of these
limitations; but not to the degree that was requisite. A law had been
enacted during the reign of Henry IV.,[**] that no man could bind his
son or daughter to an apprenticeship, unless he were possessed of
twenty shillings a year in land; and Henry VII., because the decay
of manufactures was complained of in Norwich from the want of hands,
exempted that city from the penalties of the law.[***] Afterwards the
whole county of Norfolk obtained a like exemption with regard to some
branches of the woollen manufacture.[****] These absurd limitations
proceeded from a desire of promoting husbandry, which, however, is never
more effectually encouraged than by the increase of manufactures. For a
like reason, the law enacted against enclosures, and for the keeping up
of farm houses,[v] scarcely deserves the high praises bestowed on it by
Lord Bacon. If husbandmen understand agriculture, and have a ready vent
for their commodities, we need not dread a diminution of the people
employed in the country. All methods of supporting populousness, except
by the interest of the proprietors, are violent and ineffectual. During
a century and a half after this period, there was a frequent renewal of
laws and edicts against depopulation; whence we may infer, that none
of them were ever executed. The natural course of improvement at last
provided a remedy.
* 11 Henry VII. cap. 22.
** 11 Henry VII. cap. 11.
*** 4 Henry VII. cap. 19.
**** 4 Henry VII. cap. 17.
v 12 Henry VII. cap. 1.
One check to industry in England was the erecting of corporations;
an abuse which is not yet entirely corrected. A law was enacted, that
corporations should not pass any by-laws without the consent of three of
the chief officers of state.[*] They were prohibited from imposing tolls
at their [**] The cities of Glocester and Worcester had even imposed
tolls on the Severn, which were abolished.[***]
There is a law of this reign,[****] containing a preamble, by which
it appears, that the company of merchant adventurers in London had, by
their own authority, debarred all the other merchants of the kingdom
from trading to the great marts in the Low Countries, unless each trader
previously paid them the sum of near seventy pounds. It is surprising
that such a by-law (if it deserve the name) could ever be carried into
execution, and that the authority of parliament should be requisite to
abrogate it.
It was during this reign, on the second of August, 1492, a little before
sunset, that Christopher Columbus, a Genoese, set out from Spain on his
memorable voyage for the discovery of the western world; and a few years
after, Vasquez de Gama, a Portuguese, passed the Cape of Good Hope,
and opened a new passage to the East Indies. These great events were
attended with important consequences to all the nations of Europe, even
to such as were not immediately concerned in those naval enterprises.
The enlargement of commerce and navigation increased industry and the
arts every where; the nobles dissipated their fortunes in expensive
pleasures: men of an inferior rank both acquired a share in the landed
property, and created to themselves a considerable property of a new
kind, in stock, commodities, art, credit, and correspondence. In some
nations, the privileges of the commons increased by this increase of
property: in most nations, the kings, finding arms to be dropped by the
barons, who could no longer endure their former rude manner of life,
established standing armies, and subdued the liberties of their
kingdoms: but in all places, the condition of the people, from the
depression of the petty tyrants by whom they had formerly been oppressed
rather than governed, received great improvement, and they acquired, if
not entire liberty, at least the most considerable advantages of it. And
as the general course of events thus tended to depress the nobles and
exalt the people, Henry VII., who also embraced that system of policy,
has acquired more praise than his institutions, strictly speaking, seem
of themselves to deserve on account of any profound wisdom attending
them.
* 19 Henry VII. cap. 7 gates.
** 19 Henry VII. cap. 8.
*** 10 Henry VII. cap. 18.
**** 12 Henry VII. cap. 6.
It was by accident only that the king had not a considerable share in
those great naval discoveries, by which the present age was so much
distinguished. Columbus, after meeting with many repulses from the
courts of Portugal and Spain sent his brother Bartholomew to London, in
order to explain his projects to Henry, and crave his protection for
the execution of them. The king invited him over to England; but
his brother, being taken by pirates, was detained in his voyage; and
Columbus, meanwhile, having obtained the countenance of Isabella, was
supplied with a small fleet, and happily executed his enterprise. Henry
was not discouraged by this disappointment: he fitted out Sebastian
Cabot, a Venetian, settled in Bristol, and sent him westwards in 1498,
in search of new countries. Cabot discovered the main land of America
towards the sixtieth degree of northern latitude: he sailed southwards
along the coast, and discovered Newfoundland and other countries; but
returned to England without making any conquest or settlement. Elliot
and other merchants in Bristol made a like attempt in 1502.[*] The king
expended fourteen thousand pounds in building one ship, called the Great
Harry.[**] She was, properly speaking, the first ship in the English
navy. Before this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no
other expedient than hiring or pressing ships from the merchants.
* Rymer, vol. xiii. p. 37.
** Stowe, p. 484.
But though this improvement of navigation, and the discovery of both the
Indies, was the most memorable incident that happened during this or
any other period, it was not the only great event by which the age was
distinguished. In 1453, Constantinople was taken by the Turks; and the
Greeks, among whom some remains of learning were still preserved, being
scattered by these barbarians, took shelter in Italy, and imported,
together with their admirable language, a tincture of their science, and
of their refined taste in poetry and eloquence About the same time, the
purity of the Latin tongue was revived, the study of antiquity became
fashionable, and the esteem for literature gradually propagated itself
throughout every nation in Europe. The art of printing, invented about
that time, extremely facilitated the progress of all these improvements:
the invention of gunpowder changed me whole art of war: mighty
innovations were soon after made in religion, such as not only affected
those states that embraced them, but even those that adhered to the
ancient faith and worship; and thus a general revolution was made in
human affairs throughout this part of the world; and men gradually
attained that situation, with regard to commerce, arts, science,
government, police, and cultivation, in which they have ever since
persevered. Here, therefore, commences the useful, as well as the
more agreeable part of modern annals; certainty has place in all the
considerable, and even most of the minute parts of historical narration;
a great variety of events, preserved by printing, give the author the
power of selecting, as well as adorning, the facts which he relates; and
as each incident has a reference to our present manners and situation,
instructive lessons occur every moment during the course of the
narration. Whoever carries his anxious researches into preceding
periods, is moved by a curiosity, liberal indeed and commendable; not by
any necessity for acquiring knowledge of public affairs, or the arts of
civil government.
CHAPTER XXVII.
HENRY VIII.
{1509.} THE death of Henry VII. had been attended with as open and
visible a joy among the people as decency would permit; and the
accession and coronation of his son, Henry VIII., spread universally
a declared and unfeigned satisfaction. Instead of a monarch jealous,
severe, and avaricious, who, in proportion as he advanced in years,
was sinking still deeper in those unpopular vices, a young prince of
eighteen had succeeded to the throne, who, even in the eyes of men of
sense, gave promising hopes of his future conduct, much more in those of
the people, always enchanted with novelty, youth, and royal dignity.
The beauty and vigor of his person, accompanied with dexterity in
every manly exercise, was further adorned with a blooming and ruddy
countenance, with a lively air, with the appearance of spirit and
activity in all his demeanor.[*] His father, in order to remove him from
the knowledge of public business, had hitherto occupied him entirely in
the pursuits of literature; and the proficiency which he made gave
no bad prognostic of his parts and capacity.[**] Even the vices of
vehemence, ardor, and impatience, to which he was subject, and which
afterwards degenerated into tyranny, were considered only as faults
incident to unguarded youth, which would be corrected when time had
brought him to greater moderation and maturity. And as the contending
titles of York and Lancaster were now at last fully united in his
person, men justly expected, from a prince obnoxious to no party, that
impartiality of administration which had long been unknown in England.
* T. Mori. Lucubr. p. 182.
** Father Paul, lib. i.
These favorable prepossessions of the public were encouraged by the
measures which Henry embraced in the commencement of his reign. His
grandmother, the countess of Richmond and Derby, was still alive; and
as she was a woman much celebrated for prudence and virtue, he wisely
showed great deference to her opinion in the establishment of his
new council. The members were, Warham, archbishop of Canterbury and
chancellor; the earl of Shrewsbury, steward; Lord Herbert, chamberlain;
Sir Thomas Lovel, master of the wards and constable of the Tower; Sir
Edward Poynings, comptroller; Sir Henry Marney, afterwards Lord Marney;
Sir Thomas Darcy, afterwards Lord Darcy; Thomas Ruthal, doctor of laws;
and Sir Henry Wyat.[*] These men had long been accustomed to business
under the late king, and were the least unpopular of all the ministers
employed by that monarch. But the chief competitors for favor and
authority, under the new king, were the earl of Surrey, treasurer, and
Fox, bishop of Winchester, secretary and privy seal. This prelate, who
enjoyed great credit during all the former reign, had acquired such
habits of caution and frugality as he could not easily lay aside; and
he still opposed, by his remonstrances, those schemes of dissipation
and expense, which the youth and passions of Henry rendered agreeable to
him. But Surrey was a more dexterous courtier; and though few had borne
a greater share in the frugal politics of the late king, he knew how
to conform himself to the humor of his new master; and no one was so
forward in promoting that liberality, pleasure, and magnificence,
which began to prevail under the young monarch.[**] By this policy, he
ingratiated himself with Henry; he made advantage, as well as the other
courtiers, of the lavish disposition of his master; and he engaged
him in such a course of play and idleness as rendered him negligent of
affairs, and willing to intrust the government of the state entirely
into the hands of his ministers. The great treasures amassed by the late
king were gradually dissipated in the giddy expenses of Henry. One party
of pleasure succeeded to another: tilts, tournaments, and carousals
were exhibited with all the magnificence of the age; and as the present
tranquillity of the public permitted the court to indulge itself in
every amusement, serious business was but little attended to. Or, if
the king intermitted the course of his festivity, he chiefly employed
himself in an application to music and literature, which were his
favorite pursuits, and which were well adapted to his genius.
* Herbert, Stowe, p. 486. Holingshed, p. 799.
** Lord Herbert.
He had made such proficiency in the former art, as even to compose
some pieces of church music, which were sung in his chapel.[*] He was
initiated in the elegant learning of the ancients. And though he was so
unfortunate as to be seduced into a study of the barren controversies of
the schools, which were then fashionable, and had chosen Thomas Aquinas
for his favorite author, he still discovered a capacity fitted for more
useful and entertaining knowledge.
The frank and careless humor of the king, as it led him to dissipate the
treasures amassed by his father, rendered him negligent in protecting
the instruments whom that prince had employed in his extortions. A
proclamation being issued to encourage complaints, the rage of the
people was let loose on all informers, who had so long exercised an
unbounded tyranny over the nation: [**] they were thrown into prison,
condemned to the pillory, and most of them lost their lives by the
violence of the populace. Empson and Dudley, who were most exposed to
public hatred, were immediately summoned before the council, in order to
answer for their conduct, which had rendered them so obnoxious.
* Lord Herbert.
** Herbert, Stowe, p. 486. Holingshed, p. 799. Polyd. Virg.
lib, xxvii.
Empson made a shrewd apology for himself, as well as for his associate.
He told the council, that so far from his being justly exposed to
censure for his past conduct, his enemies themselves grounded their
clamor on actions which seemed rather to merit reward and approbation:
that a strict execution of law was the crime of which he and Dudley were
accused; though that law had been established by general consent,
and though they had acted in obedience to the king, to whom the
administration of justice was intrusted by the constitution: that it
belonged not to them, who were instruments in the hands of supreme
power, to determine what laws were recent or obsolete, expedient or
hurtful; since they were all alike valid, so long as they remained
unrepealed by the legislature: that it was natural for a licentious
populace to murmur against the restraints of authority; but all wise
states had ever made their glory consist in the just distribution of
rewards and punishments, and had annexed the former to the observance
and enforcement of the laws, the latter to their violation and
infraction; and that a sudden overthrow of all government might be
expected where the judges were committed to the mercy of the criminals,
the rulers to that of the subjects.[*]
Notwithstanding this defence, Empson and Dudley were sent to the Tower,
and soon after brought to their trial. The strict execution of laws,
however obsolete, could never be imputed to them as a crime in a court
of judicature; and it is likely that, even where they had exercised
arbitrary power, the king, as they had acted by the secret commands of
his father, was not willing that their conduct should undergo too
severe a scrutiny. In order, therefore, to gratify the people with
the punishment of these obnoxious ministers crimes very improbable,
or indeed absolutely impossible, were charged upon them: that they had
entered into a conspiracy against the sovereign, and had intended, on
the death of the late king, to have seized by force the administration
of government. The jury were so far moved by popular prejudices,
joined to court influence, as to give a verdict against them; which was
afterwards confirmed by a bill of attainder in parliament,[**] and, at
the earnest desire of the people, was executed by warrant from the king,
Thus, in those arbitrary times, justice was equally violated, whether
the king sought power and riches, or courted popularity.
* Herbert, Holingshed, p. 804.
** This parliament met on the 21st January, 1510. A law was
there enacted, in order to prevent some abuses which had
prevailed during the late reign. The forfeiture upon the
penal statutes was reduced to the term of three years. Costs
and damages were given against informers upon acquittal of
the accused: more severe punishments were enacted against
perjury: the false inquisitions procured by Empson and
Dudley were declared null and invalid. Traverses were
allowed; and the time of tendering them enlarged. 1 Henry
VIII. c. 8, 10, 11, 12.
Henry, while he punished the instruments of past tyranny, had yet such a
deference to former engagements as to deliberate, immediately after his
accession, concerning the celebration of his marriage with the infanta
Catharine, to whom he had been affianced during his father’s lifetime.
Her former marriage with his brother, and the inequality of their years
were the chief objections urged; against his espousing her but, on the
other hand, the advantages of her known virtue, modesty, and sweetness
of disposition were insisted on; the affection which she bore to the
king; the large dowry to which she was entitled as princess of Wales;
the interest of cementing a close alliance with Spain; the necessity
of finding some confederate to counterbalance the power of France; the
expediency of fulfilling the engagements of the late king When these
considerations were weighed, they determined the council, though
contrary to the opinion of the primate, to give Henry their advice for
celebrating the marriage. The countess of Richmond, who had concurred
in the same sentiments with the council, died soon after the marriage of
her grandson.
The popularity of Henry’s government, his undisputed title, his
extensive authority, his large treasures, the tranquillity of his
subjects, were circumstances which rendered his domestic administration
easy and prosperous: the situation of foreign affairs was no less happy
and desirable. Italy continued still, as during the late reign, to be
the centre of all the wars and negotiations of the European princes; and
Henry’s alliance was courted by all parties; at the same time that he
was not engaged by any immediate interest or necessity to take part with
any. Lewis XII. of France, after his conquest of Milan, was the only
great prince that possessed any territory in Italy; and could he have
remained in tranquillity, he was enabled by his situation to prescribe
laws to all the Italian princes and republics, and to hold the balance
among them. But the desire of making a conquest of Naples, to which he
had the same title or pretensions with his predecessor, still engaged
him in new enterprises: and· as he foresaw opposition from Ferdinand,
who was connected both by treaties and affinity with Frederick of
Naples, he endeavored by the offers of interest, to which the ears of
that monarch were ever open, to engage him in an opposite confederacy.
He settled with him a plan for the partition of the kingdom of Naples,
and the expulsion of Frederick; a plan which the politicians of that,
age regarded as the most egregious imprudence in the French monarch,
and the greatest perfidy in the Spanish. Frederick, supported only by
subjects who were either discontented with his government or indifferent
about his fortunes, was unable to resist so powerful a confederacy, and
was deprived of his dominions: but he had the satisfaction to see Naples
immediately prove the source of contention among his enemies. Ferdinand
gave secret orders to his general, Gonsalvo, whom the Spaniards honor
with the appellation of the “great captain,” to attack the armies of
France, and make himself master of all the dominions of Naples. Gonsalvo
prevailed in every enterprise, defeated the French in two pitched
battles, and insured to his prince the entire possession of that
kingdom. Lewis, unable to procure redress by force of arms, was obliged
to enter into a fruitless negotiation with Ferdinand for the recovery of
his share of the partition; and all Italy, during some time, was held in
suspense between these two powerful monarchs.
There has scarcely been any period when the balance of power was better
secured in Europe, and seemed more able to maintain itself without any
anxious concern or attention of the princes. Several great monarchies
were established; and no one so far surpassed the rest as to give any
foundation or even pretence for jealousy. England was united in domestic
peace, and by its situation happily secured from the invasion of
foreigners. The coalition of the several kingdoms of Spain had
formed one powerful monarchy, which Ferdinand administered with arts,
fraudulent indeed and deceitful, but full of vigor and ability. Lewis
XII., a gallant and generous prince, had, by espousing Anne of Brittany,
widow to his predecessor, preserved the union with that principality,
on which the safety of his kingdom so much depended. Maximilian, the
emperor, besides the hereditary dominions of the Austrian family,
maintained authority in the empire, and, notwithstanding the levity of
his character, was able to unite the German princes in any great plan of
interest, at least of defence. Charles, prince of Castile, grandson to
Maximilian and Ferdinand, had already succeeded to the rich dominions of
the house of Burgundy; and being as yet in early youth, the government
was intrusted to Margaret of Savoy, his aunt, a princess endowed with
signal prudence and virtue. The internal force of these several powerful
states, by balancing each other, might long have maintained general
tranquillity, had not the active and enterprising genius of Julius II.,
an ambitious pontiff, first excited the flames of war and discord among
them. By his intrigues, a league had been formed at Cambray,[*] between
himself, Maximilian, Lewis, and Ferdinand; and the object of this great
confederacy w
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