The history of England: under the House of Tudor. ... By David Hume, Esq; In two volumes. ... [pt.1]

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

- CONTENTS Of the FIRST VOLUME.

- THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR. HENRY VII.

- CHAP. I.

- CHAP. II.

- CHAP. III.

- THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR. HENRY VIII.

- CHAP. I.

- CHAP. II.

- CHAP. III.

- CHAP. IV.

- CHAP. V.

- CHAP. VI.

- CHAP. VII.

- THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR. EDWARD VI.

- CHAP. I.

- CHAP. II.

- THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR. MARY.

- CHAP. I.

- CHAP. II.

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR.

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR. Comprehending the REIGNS of

- K. HENRY VII.

- K. HENRY VIII.

- K. EDWARD VI.

- Q. MARY,and

- Q. ELIZABETH.

By DAVID HUME, Esq

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON: Printed for A. MILLAR, in the Strand. MDCCLIX.

CONTENTS Of the FIRST VOLUME.

HENRY VII.

- CHAP. I. Accession of Henry VII.—His title to the crown.—King's prejudice against the House of York.—His joyful reception in London.—His coronation.—Sweating sickness.—A Parliament.—Entail of the crown.—King's marriage.—An insurrection.—Discontents of the people.—Lambert Simnel.—Revolt of Ireland.—Intrigues of the Dutchess of Burgundy.—Lambert Simnel invades England.—Battle of Stoke. Page 1

- CHAP. II. State of foreign affairs.—State of Scotland—of Spain—of the Low Countries—of France—of Britanny.—French invasion of Britanny.—French embassy to England.—Dissimulation of the French Court.—An insurrection in the North—suppressed.—King sends forces into Britanny.—Annexation of Britanny to France.—A Parliament.—War with France.—Invasion of France. Peace with France.—Perkin Warbec.—His imposture.—He is avowed by the dutchess of Burgundy—and by many of the English nobility.—Trial and execution of Stanley.—A Parliament. 18

- CHAP. III. Perkin returns to Scotland—Insurrection in the West.—Battle of Blackheath.—Truce with Scotland.—Perkin taken prisoner.—Perkin executed.—The earl of Warwic executed.—Marriage of prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon.—His death.—Marriage of the princess Margaret with the King of Scotland.—Oppressions of the people.—A Parliament.—Arrival of the King of Castile.—Intrigues of the earl of Suffolk.—Sickness of the King—His death—and character.—His laws. 43

HENRY VIII.

- CHAP. I. Popularity of the new King.—His ministers.—Punishment of Empson and Dudley.—King's marriage.—Foreign affairs.—Julius the second.—League of Cambray.—War with France.—Expedition to Fontarabia.—Deceit of Ferdinand.—Return of the English.—Leo the tenth.—A Parliament.—War with Scotland.—Wolsey minister.—His character.—Invasion of France. Battle of Guinegate.—Battle of Flouden.—Peace with France. 69

- CHAP. II. Wolsey's administration.—Scotch affairs.—Progress of Francis the first.—Jealousy of Henry.—Tournay delivered to France.—Wolsey appointed legate.—His manner of exercising that office.—Death of the emperor Maximilian.—Charles, King of Spain, chosen emperor.—Interview between Henry and Francis at Calais.—The emperor Charles arrives in England.—Mediation of Henry.—Trial and condemnation of the duke of Buckingham. 96

- CHAP. III. Digression concerning the ecclesiastical state.—Origin of the reformation.—Martin Luther.—Henry receives the title of defender of the faith.—Causes of the progress of the reformation.—War with France.—Invasion of France.—War with Scotland.—A Parliament.—Invasion of France.—Italian wars.—The King of France invades Italy.—Battle of Pavia and captivity of Francis.—Francis recovers his liberty.—Sack of Rome.—League with France. 116

- CHAP. IV. Scruples concerning the King's marriage.—The King enters into these scruples.—Anne Boleyn.—Henry applies to the pope for a divorce.—The pope favourable.—The emperor threatens him.—The pope's ambiguous conduct.—The cause evoked to Rome. Wolsey's fall.—Commencement of the reformation in England.—Foreign affairs.—Wolsey's death.—A Parliament.—Progress of the reformation.—A Parliament.—King's final breach with Rome.—A Parliament. 149

- CHAP. V. Religious principles of the people—of the King—of the ministers.—Farther progress of the reformation.—Sir Thomas More.—The maid of Kent.—Trial and execution of Fisher bishop of Rochester—of Sir Thomas More.—King excommunicated.—Death of Queen Catherine.—Suppression of the lesser monasteries.—A Parliament.—A convocation.—Translation of the Bible. Disgrace of Queen Anne.—Her trial—and execution.—A Parliament.—A Convocation.—Discontents among the people.—Insurrection.—Birth of prince Edward and death of Queen Jane.—Suppression of the greater monasteries.—Cardinal Pole. 183

- CHAP. VI. Disputation with Lambert.—A Parliament.—Law of the six articles.—Proclamations made equal to laws.—Settlement of the succession.—King's projects of marriage.—He marries Anne of Cleves.—He dislikes her.—A Parliament.—Fall of Cromwel.—His execution.—King's divorce from Anne of Cleves.—His marriage with Catherine Howard.—State of affairs in Scotland.—Discovery of the Queen's crimes.—A Parliament.—Ecclesiastical affairs. 226

- CHAP. VII. War with Scotland.—Victory at Solway.—Death of James the fifth.—Treaty with Scotland.—New rupture.—Rupture with France.—A Parliament.—Affairs of Scotland.—A Parliament.—Campaign in France.—A Parliament.—Peace with France and Scotland.—Persecutions.—Execution of the earl of Surrey.—Attainder of the duke of Norfolk.—Death of the King.—His character.—His laws. 252

EDWARD VI.

- CHAP. I. State of the regency.—Innovations in the regency.—Somerset protector.—Reformation compleated.—Gardiner's opposition.—Foreign affairs.—Progress of the reformation in Scotland.—Assassination of cardinal Beaton.—Conduct of the war with Scotland.—Battle of Pluckey.—A Parliament.—Farther progress of the reformaiton.—Affairs of Scotland.—Young Queen of Scots sent into France.—Cabals of lord Seymour.—Dudley earl of Warwick.—A Parliament.—Attainder of lord Seymour.—His execution.—Ecclesiastical affairs. 287

- CHAP. II. Discontents of the people.—Insurrections.—Conduct of the war with Scotland—with France.—Factions in the council.—Cons•••acy against Somerset.—Somerset resigns the protectorship.—A Parliament.—Peace with France and Scotland.—Boulogne surrendered.—Persecution of Gardiner.—Warwic created duke of Northumberland.—His ambition.—Trial of Somerset.—His execution.—A Parliament.—A new Parliament.—Succession changed.—The King's sickness—and death. 319

MARY.

- CHAP. I. Lady Jane Gray proclaimed Queen.—Deserted by the people.—The Queen proclaimed and acknowledged.—Northumberland executed.—Catholic religion restored.—A Parliament.—Deliberations with regard to the Queen's marriage.—Queen's marriage with Philip.—Wyat's insurrection.—Suppressed.—Execution of lady Jane Gray.—A Parliament.—Philip's arrival in England. 347

- CHAP. II. Reasons for and against Toleration.—Persecutions.—A Parliament.—The Queen's extortions.—The Emperor resigns his crown.—Execution of Cranmer.—War with France.—Battle of St. Quintin.—Calais taken by the French.—Affairs of Scotland.—Marriage of the Dauphin and the Queen of Scots.—A Parliament.—Death of the Queen. 373

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR.
HENRY VII.

CHAP. I.

Accession of Henry VII.—His title to the crown.—King's prejudice against the House of York.—His joyful Reception in London.—His Coronation.—Sweating sickness.—A Parliament—Entail of the crown.—King's marriage.—An insurrection.—Discontents of the people.—Lambert Simnel.—Revolt of Ireland.—Intrigues of the Dutchess of Burgundy.—Lambert Simnel invades England.—Battle of Stoke.

August 22.

THE victory, which the earl of Richmond gained at Bosworth over Richard the third, 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.
Accession of Henry VII.

The joy of so 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 the seventh, by a natural and unpremeditated movement, resounded from all quarters. To bes•ow 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 conqueror. Henry himself remained not in suspense, but immediately, without hesitation, accepted of the magnificent present, which was tendered him. He was come to the great 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 party, which his ambition suggested to him, and to which he seemed to be conducted by his present prosperous success.

His title to the crown.

THERE were many titles, on which Henry could found his right to the throne; but no one of them free from great objections, if considered, either with respect 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 to the crown was generally esteemed to be very ill founded. Henry the fourth, who had first raised that family to royal dignity, had never clearly determined 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 had indeed often recognized the title of the Lancastrian princes; but these votes had little authority, being considered as instances of prudent 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 a family revived, 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 of faction, which never, without the utmost reluctance, will submit to their antagonists, could have engaged the partizans of that house to adopt the earl of Richmond as their head. His mother indeed, Margaret, countess of Richmond, was sole daughter and heiress of John duke of Somerset, grandson to John of Gaunt duke of Lancaster: But the birth of the first of the Somerset line was itself illegitimate and even adulterous. And tho' the duke of Lancaster had obtained the legitimation of his natural children by a patent of Richard the second, 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, by being omitted, is thereby tacitly excluded. In all the 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.

THE title of the house of York, both from the plain reason of the case, and from the late popular government of Edward the fourth, had obtained universally the preference in the sentiments of the people; and Henry might engraft his claim on the right of that family, by his intended marriage with the princess Elizabeth, the heiress 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 di••waded Henry from adopting this expedient. Were he to receive the crown only in right of his spouse, his power, he knew, would be very limited; and he must expect rather to enjoy the bare title of king by a species 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 be easily procured to settle the crown on him during his life, but Henry knew how much superior the claim of succession by blood was to the votes 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 considerations 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 an 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 despotic authority in the sovereign[†]. William himself, the Norman, tho' 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 knew, that there was another foundation of authority, somewhat resembling the right of conquest, to wit, present possession; and that this title, guarded by vigour and ability, would be sufficient to secure perpetual possession of the throne. He had before him the example of Henry the fourth; who, supported by no better pretension, had subdued many insurrections, and had at last been able to transmit the crown peaceably to his posterity. He was sensible, that this title, which had been perpetuated thro' three successions of the family of Lancaster, might still have subsisted, notwithstanding the preferable claim of the house of York; had not the scepter devolved into the hands of Henry the sixth, which were too feeble to sustain it. Instructed by these recent experiences, Henry was determined to put himself in present possession of regal authority; and to show all opposers, that nothing but force of arms and a successful war would 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 title, favoured by the partizans of that family, and seconded by present power, would secure him a perpetual and an independant 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 councils another motive, which admits not of the same apology.
King's prejudice against the house of York.

The violent contentions, which, during so long a period, had been maintained between the rival families of York and Lancaster, and the many sanguinary revenges which they had mutually exercised on each other, had inflamed the opposite factions into a high pitch of animosity. Henry himself, who had seen most of his near friends and relations perish in the field or on the scaffold, 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 nor 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 spouse, and of bestowing favour indifferently on the friends of both families; he carried into 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 retainers of the house of York, were still the favourite objects of his pursuit; and thro' 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 inconveniencies, 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 measure, which he embraced two days after the battle of Bosworth. Edward Plantagenet, earl of Warwic, son to the unfortunate duke of Clarence, was detained in a species of consinement 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. Warwic had now reason to expect better treatment, as he was no obstacle to the succession either of Henry or Elizabeth; and from a boy of such tender years no danger could reasonably be apprehended. But Sir Robert Willoughby was dispatched by Henry with orders to take him from Sherif-Hutton, to convey him to the Tower, and to retain 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 espousals.

HENRY himself set out for the capital, and advanced by slow journies. 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 thro' his dominions, rather than of a prince who had opened a way to the throne by force of arms.
His joyful reception in London.

The acclamations of the people were every whereloud, and no less sincere and hearty. Besides the favour, naturally attending a young and victorious prince on his accession, the nation promised themselves great felicity from the new scene, which opened before them. 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 ensure an union of the contending titles of their families; and having prevailed over a hated tyrant, who had anew disjointed the succession even of the house of York, and filled his own family with blood, an unfeigned favour was observed every where to attend him. 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 crouds of people and citizens were zealous in their expressions of satisfaction. But Henry, amidst these general effusions 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 gratified not the people with the sight of their new monarch. He went first to St. Paul's church, where he offered up the standards, taken in the field of battle; and sung orisons for the victory, which he had there obtained. He departed thence to the bishop of London's palace, where lodgings were prepared for him.

BUT Henry did not so much neglect the favour of the people, as to delay giving them assurance of his marriage with the princess Elizabeth, which he knew to be so passionately desired by the whole nation. On his leaving Britanny, he had artificially dropt some hopes, that, if he should succeed in his enterprize, and obtain the crown of England, he would espouse Anne, the heiress of that dutchy; and the report of this engagement had already reached England, and had begot anxiety in the people, and even in the princess 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 marriage with Elizabeth.
His coronation.

But tho' bound by honour, as well as interest, to compleat 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 the Parliament. Anxious still 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.

Sweating sickness.

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 a sudden death to great multitudes; tho' it was not 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 committed ravages for a few weeks, it was observed, either from alterations in the air, or from a more proper regimen, which was discovered, to be considerably abated[*]. Preparations were then made for the ceremony of Henry's coronation. In order to heighten the splendor of that appearance, he bestowed the rank of knights banneret on twelve persons; and he conferred peerages on three. Jasper earl of Pembroke, his uncle, he created duke of Bedford; Thomas lord Stanley, his father-in-law, earl of Darby; and Edward Courteney, earl of Devonshire.
30th of October.

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 denominated 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 perpe•ual. The ceremony of coronation was performed by cardinal Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury.

7th of November.

A Parliament.

THE Parliament being assembled at Westminster, the majority immediately appeared to be devoted partizans of Henry; all persons of another disposition, either declining to stand in these 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 of them had been returned knights and burge••es, who, during the prevalence of the house of York, had been exposed to the rigour of the law, and been condemned by sentence of attainder or 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 sentence pronounced was very prudent, and contained a just temperament between law and expediency[*]. They determined, that the members attainted should forbear taking their seats till an act were passed for the reverfal of their attainder. There was no difficulty of obtaining this act; and in it were comprehended an hundred and seven persons of the King's party[†]!

BUT a difficulty 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 a singular position, which they established;
"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 the urgent necessity of the case, which admitted of no deliberation; the judges probably thought, that no sentence of a court of judicature ought to bar the right of succession; that the jealousy of a King towards his heir might readily 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 birth-right.

WITH a Parliament so obsequious as the present, the King could not fail to obtain whatever act of settlement he was pleased to require. He seems only to have entertained some doubts within himself on what title he should found his pretensions. In his first address •o 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 in the field of battle. And again, lest this pretension should be interpreted as assuming a right of conquest, he ensured his subjects in the entire enjoyment of their former properties and possessions.

Entail of the crown.

THE entail of the crown was drawn, according to the sense of the King, and probably in the words, dictated by himself. He made no mention in it of the princess Elizabeth, nor any branch of the family of York; but in other respects the act was composed 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 commonly 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. In like manner, the King 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 give the preference to that of Lancaster: He left that great point ambiguous for the present; and trusted, that, if ever its determination should become requisite, future incidents would open the way for the decision.

BUT after all these precautions, the King was so little satisfied with his own title to the crown, that, in the following year, he applied to Rome for a confirmation of it; and as that court gladly laid hold of all opportunities, which the imprudence, weakness, or necessities of princes afford it to extend its authority, Innocent the eighth, 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 their future succession to the crown; and from this penalty, no criminal, except in the article of death, can 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 to 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 partizans of the house of Lancaster: But the revenges, which he exercised against the retainers 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 Fe•rars 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 B sworth. 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 was not easy to determine, 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 been previously concerted between the parties, and to the expectation of which he had plainly owed his accession to the throne.

THE King, having gained so many points of consequence from his Parliament, thought it not expedient to demand any supply from them, which the profound peace enjoyed by the nation, and the late forfeitures of Richard's adherents, seemed to render somewhat superfluous.
10th of December.

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 predec•ssors; and they added, before they broke up, other lucrative bills of no great moment. The King, on his part, made some returns of grace and favour 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, tho' he had submitted, and delivered himself into the King's hands, was sent prisoner to the tower.

DURING this parliament, the King also bestowed favours and honours on some particular persons, who were attached to him. Edward Stafford, eldest son to the duke of Buckingham, forfeited in the late reign, was restored to all the honours of his family, as well as to all its 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 succession to the crown, and who by his own ruin had made way for that great event. Chandos of Britanny 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[*].

BUT the ministers, whom the King most trusted and favoured, 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 most confided his affairs and secret councils. They had shared with him all his former dangers and distresses; and he now forgot not to make them participate in his good fortune. They were both called to the privy council; and Morton was created bishop of Ely, Fox of Exeter. The former soon after, upon the death of Bourchier, was raised to the see of Canterbury. The latter was made lord 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 thro' the inferior bishoprics[*]. He probably expected, that as they were naturally more dependant on him than the nobility, who, during that age, enjoyed possessions and jurisdictions dangerous to royal authority; so the prospect of some farther elevation would render them still more active in his service, and more obsequious to his commands.

18th of January.

IN presenting the bill of tonnage and poundage, the Parliament, anxious topreserve the true and undisputed succession to the crown, had petitioned Henry, with demonstrations of the greatest earnestness, to espouse the princess Elizabeth; but they covered their real 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.
King's marriage.

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 favour which was borne the house of York. The suspicions, which arose from it, not only disturbed his tranquillity during his whole reign; but bred disgust towards his spouse herself, and poysoned all his domestic enjoyments. Tho' 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 partizans of Richard were most 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 Humphry Stafford and Thomas, his brother, had withdrawn themselves secretly 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.
An insurrection.

He there heard, that the Staffords had levied an army in the county of Worcester, and were approaching to besiege that city: And that Lovel, at the head of an army of three or four thousand men, was marching 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. Tho' he knew himself to be 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 of which they were provided. He therefore gave Bedford orders not to approach the enemy; but previously to try every proper expedient to dissipate 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 enterprize, that exceeded his courage and capacity, was so terrified with the fears 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 dutchess of Burgundy. His army submitted to the King's clemency; and the other insurgents, 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 that church had not the privilege of giving protection to rebels, they were taken thence: The eldest Stafford was executed at Tyburn; the younger, pleading that he was misled by his brother, obtained his pardon[*].

20th of September.

HENRY'S joy for this success was followed, some time after, with 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 their descent.

Discontents of the people.

THO' Henry had been able to dissipate that hasty rebellion, which was raised by the relicts of Richard's parrizans, his government was become in general very unpopular: The source of the public discontent arose chiefly from his prejudice against the house of York, which was universally 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 tho' this rigour had been covered under the pretence, that the revenue was become insufficient to support the crown, and tho' the liberalities, during the latter years of Henry the sixth, were resumed by the same law, yet the Yorkparty, as they were the principal sufferers by the resumption, thought it chiefly levelled against them. The severity, exercised against the earl of Warwic, begot compassion towards 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 honour of a public coronation, Henry's prepossessions were then concluded to be absolutely incurable, and men became equally obstinate in their disgust against 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[*]. And while the high idea, entertained of his policy and vigour, retained the nobility and men of character in obedience; the effects of his unpopular government soon appeared in the public, by incidents of a very extraordinary nature.

THERE lived in Oxford, one Richard Simon, a priest, who possessed some subtlety, and still more boldness and temerity. This man had entertained the design of disturbing Henry's government, by raising up a pretender to his crown;
Lambert Simnel.

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 to Edward the fourth, had, by a secret escape, saved himself from his uncle's cruelty, and lay somewhere concealed in England. Simon, taking advantage of this rumour, 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 Warwic 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[†]. Tho' 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, and particularly in the adventures of the earl of Warwic, than he could be supposed to have learned from one of Simon's condition: And it was thence conjectured, that persons of higher rank, partizans 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 great suspicion; and it was indeed the general opinion, however unlikely it might seem, that she had secretly given her consent to this imposture. This woman was of a very restless disposition. That character of ambition and intrigue, which she had betrayed during the reign of her husband, had not abandoned her during the usurpation of Richard; and in her closet was first laid the plan of that great confederacy, which overturned the throne of the tyrant, and raised the earl of Richmond to royal dignity. Finding, that, instead of receiving the reward of these services, she herself was fallen to absolute insignificance, her daughter treated with severity, and all her friends brought under subjection, she had conceived the most violent animosity against Henry, and had resolved to make him feel the effects of her resentment. The impostor, she knew, however succes•ful, it would be easy at last to set aside; and if a way could be found at his risque to subvert the King's government, she hoped that a scene would be opened, which, tho' 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 reduced[*].

BUT whatever care Simon might take to convey instruction to his pupil, Simnel, he knew, that the imposture would not bear a cl•se 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 councellors 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 Warwic, than that credulous nobleman, not suspecting so bold a fiction, lent 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 a• the story diffused itself among those of lower condition, it became the object of still higher passion and credulity; till the people in Dublin with one consent tendered their allegiance to Simnel as to the true Plantagenet.
Revolt of Ireland.

Fond of a novelty, which flattered their natural propension, they overlooked the daughters of Edward the fourth, who stood before Warwic in the order of Succession; they payed 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, under the appellation of Edward the sixth. 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 Henry, 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 lend it countenance. In order to discover 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 great surprize 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 to the nunnery of Bermondesey. So arbitrary and violent an act of authority was covered with a very thin pretence. It was alledged, that, notwithstanding the secret agreement to marry her daughter to Henry, she had yet yielded to the sollicitations and menaces of Richard, and delivered that princess and her sisters into the hands of the tyrant. This crime, which was now become obsolete, and might admit of many 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 the pretext of an offence, known to the whole world[*]. They were afterwards the more confirmed in this suspicion, when they found, that the unfortunate queen, tho' 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. This woman had been raised to the throne from a very private station; possessed great authority during her husband's life-time; fell afterwards into the deepest distress; saw the murder of all her male children; had again the satisfaction of contributing to the exaltation of her daughter; an event which immediately involved her in vexation, and soon after in misery: And on the whole, she furnishes ample materials for reflections on the instability of fortune; reflections, which history, as it relates the adventures of the great, does more frequently suggest than even the incidents of common life.

THE next measure of the King was of a less exceptionable nature. He ordered that Warwic 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 eyes of the whole people. He even gave directions, that some persons of condition, who were attached to the house of York, and were 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 people. 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 Warwic to the people.

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 promise. John earl of Lincoln, son of John de la Pole, duke of Suffolk, and of Elizabeth, eldest sister to Edward the fourth, was engaged to take part in the conspiracy. This nobleman, who possest 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 cafe 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 rigour towards Warwic, had farther struck Lincoln with apprehensions, and made him resolve to seek for safety in the most dangerous councils. Having fixed a secret correspondence with sir Thomas Broughton, a man of great interest in Lancashire, he set out for Flanders, where Lovel had arrived a little before him; and he joined the court of his aunt, the dutchess of Burgundy, by whom he had been invited over.

Intrigues of the dutchess of Burgundy.

MARGARET, widow of Charles the bold, duke of Burgundy, having born no children to her husband, 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 their education and in the care of their persons. By her virtuous conduct and demeanour, she had acquired great authority among the Flemings; and lived with much dignity, as well as oeconomy, 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 entrenched somewhat on the probity, which shone forth in other parts of her character. Hearing of the malignant jealousy, entertained by Henry against her family, and his oppression of all its partizans; she was moved with the highest indignation, and determined to make him repent of that enmity, which he seemed so wantonly to court. 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 condition, and the accession of this military force, raised extremely the courage of the Irish, and made them entertain the resolution of invading England, where they believed the spirit of disaffection to prevail as much as it had appeared to do in Ireland.
Lambert Simnel invades England.

The poverty also, under which they laboured, made it impossible for them to maintain any longer their new court and army, and inspired them with a strong desire of enriching themselves by plunder and preferment in England.

HENRY was not ignorant of these intentions of his enemies; and he prepared himself for resistance. He ordered troops to be mustered in different parts of the kingdom, and put them under the command of the duke of Bedford, and the earl of Oxford. He confined from jealousy the marquis of Dorset, who was brother to the queen regent; and who, he suspected, would revenge the injuries suffered by his sister. And to allure 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 and his forces were landed at Foudrey in Lancashire, he drew together his own troops, and advanced towards them as far as Coventry. The rebels had entertained hopes, that the disaffected counties in the North would rise in their favour: But the people, 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 all assistance to the royal army. The earl of Lincoln, therefore, who commanded the rebels, finding no hopes but in speedy victory, was determined to bring the matter to a decision; and the King, supported by the native courage of his temper, and emboldened by a great accession of volunteers, which had joined him, under the earl of Shrewsbury and lord Strange, declined not the combat.
6th of June.

Battle of Stoke.

The opposite armies met at Stoke in the county of Nottingham, and fought a battle, which was more 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 die, and they inspired their troops with a like resolution. The Germans also, being veteran and experienced soldiers, kept the victory long doubtful; and even the Irish, tho' 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 troops. Lovel, never having been heard of more, 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 either to excite apprehension or resentment in Henry. He was pardoned, and made a scullion in the King's kitchen; whence he was afterwards advanced to the rank of a falconer[*].

HENRY had now leisure to revenge himself of his enemies. He took a progress into the northern parts, where he made the people fully sensible of the rigours of his justice. A strict inquiry was made after those who had assisted or favoured the rebels. The punishments were not all sanguinary. The King made his revenge subservient to his avarice. Heavy fines were levied from the delinquents. In giving sentence, the proceedings of the courts, and even the courts themselves, were entirely arbitrary. Either the criminals were tried by commissioners appointed for that purpose, or they suffered punishment by sentence of a court martial. And as a rumour had prevailed before the battle of Stoke, that the rebels had gained the victory, that the King's 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 little restrained during the most peaceable periods, was sure, in tumultuous, or even suspicious times, which frequently occurred, to break all bounds of law and order.

AFTER the King had satisfied his rigour by the punishment of his enemies, he resolved to give contentment to the people, in a point, which, tho' a mere ceremony, was very 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.
25th of November.

The King, instructed by experience, now finished the ceremony of her coronation; and to shew a still more gracious disposition, he gave liberty to her uncle, the marquiss of Dorset, who had been able to clear himself of all the crimes of which he was accused.

CHAP. II.

State of foreign affairs.—State of Scotland—of Spain—of the Low Countries—of France—of Britanny.—French invasion of Britanny.—French embassy to England.—Dissimulation of the French Court.—An insurrection in the North—suppressed.—King sends forces into Britanny.—Annexation of Britanny to France.—A Parliament.—War with France.—Invasion of France.—Peace with France.—Perkin Warbec.—His imposture.—He is avowed by the dutchess of Burgundy—and by many of the English nobility.—Trial and execution of Stanley.—A Parliament.

State of foreign affairs.

THE King acquired great reputation throughout all Europe by the prosperous and vigorous conduct of his domestic affairs; and 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 condition of the neighbouring kingdoms; beginning with Scotland, which lies most contiguous.

State of Scotland.

THE kingdom of Scotland had not as 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 the third, who now filled the throne, was a man of little industry and of a narrow genius; and tho' 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 favour 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, tho' they might be over-run 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 proposed the renewal of the peace with Scotland, and sent an embassy to James for that purpose. But the Scotch, who never desired a long peace with England, and who thought that their security consisted in preserving themselves constantly in a warlike posture, would not agree to more than a seven years truce, which was accordingly concluded[*].

THE European states on the continent were then hastening fast to that situation, in which they have remained, without any material alterations, for near three centuries; and began to unite themselves into one extensive system of policy, which comprehended the chief powers of Christendom.
State of Spain.

Spain, which had hithertobeen 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 enterprizes the most advantageous to their combined monarchy. The conquest of Granada over the Moors was then undertaken, and brought near to a happy conclusion. And in that expedition the military genius of Spain was revived; honour and security were attained; and her princes, no longer held in fear 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.

Of the Low Countries.

MAXIMILIAN, King of the Romans, son to the emperor Frederic, had, by his marriage with the heiress of the house of Burgundy, acquired an interest in the low country provinces; and tho' the death of his spouse had weakened his connexion with that territory, 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 those 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 the eleventh, and had given his daughter, Margaret, then an infant, in marriage to the Dauphin; together with Artois, Franchecomté, and Charolois as her dowry. But this alliance had not produced the desired effect. The dauphin succeeded to the crown of France under the appellation of Charles the eighth; but Maximilian still found the mutinies of the Flemings fomented by the intrigues of the Court of France.

State of France.

FRANCE, during the two preceding reigns, had made a mighty encrease 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 antient boundaries. Most of the great fiefs, Normandy, Champagne, Anjou, Dauphiny, 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 condition as enabled him to maintain law and order; a considerable military force was kept on foot, and the finances were able to support them. Lewis the eleventh indeed, from whom many of these advantages were derived, was dead, and had left his son, in very early youth and ill educated, to sustain the weight of the monarchy: But having entrusted 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 Britanny, the last and most independent fief of the monarchy.

Of Britanny.

FRANCIS the second, duke of Britanny, was a good, but a weak prince, who, conscious of his own unfitness for government, had resigned himself entirely to the direction of Peter Landais, a man of very mean birth, more remarkable for his ability than for his virtue or integrity. The nobles of Britanny, displeased with the great advancement of this favourite, had even proceeded to disaffection against their sovereign; and after many tumults and conspiracies, they at last united among themselves, and in a violent manner, seized, tried, and put to death the obnoxious minister. Fearing the resentment of the prince for this invasion of his authority, many of them retired to France; and others, for their protection and safety, maintained a correspondence with that court. The French ministry, observing the great dissentions among the Bretons, thought the opportunity favourable for invading that dutchy; and so much the more, that 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 tho' 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 schemes detected, he took arms, and fortified himself in Beaugenci; but as his revolt was precipitate, before his confederates were ready to rise with him, he had been obliged to submit, and to receive whatever conditions 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 dexcl=Yke of Britanny, 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 prince also, observing the ascendant which he soon acquired over the duke of Britanny, had engaged many of his partizans to join him at that court, and had formed the design of aggrandizing himself by a marriage with Anne, the heiress of that opulent dutchy.

THE barons of Britanny, who saw all favour 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 to preserve its independancy, they had regulated the number of succours, which France was to send, and had stipulated that no fortified place in Britanny should remain in the possession of that monarchy. A vain precaution, where revolted subjects treat with a power so much superior!
French invasion of Britanny.

The French invaded Britanny 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 Ploermel. 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 made themselves masters of Ploermel, he escaped to Nantz; and the enemy, having taken and garrifoned Vannes, Dinant, and other places, laid close siege to that city. The barons of Britanny, finding their country menaced with total subjection, began gradually to withdraw from the French army, and make peace with their sovereign.

THIS desertion, however, of the Bretons discouraged not the court of France from pursuing their favourite project of reducing Britanny to subjection. The situation of Europe appeared very favourable to the execution of this design. Maximilian was engaged in close alliance with the duke of Britanny, and was even in treaty for marrying his daughter; but he was on all occasions so necessitous of money, 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 Franexcl=Ye resigned to him Rousillon and Cerdagne, to which he had pretensions, she would at any time engage him to abandon the interests of Britanny. England alone was both enabled by her power, and engaged by her interests, to support the independency of that dutchy; and the most dangerous opposition was therefore, by the French, expected from that quarter. In order to cover their real designs, no sooner were they informed of Henry's success against Simnel and his partizans, than they dispatched ambassadors to the court of London, and made professions of the utmost trust and confidence in that monarch.

French embassy to England.

THE ambassadors, after congratulating Henry on the 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 Britanny. They told him that the duke of Britanny having given protection to French fugitives and rebels, the King had been necessitated, contrary to his intention and inclination, to carry war into that dutchy: That the honour 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 of France less concerned to prevent the consequences of this dangerous temerity: That the fugitives were no mean nor 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 Bexcl=Yitanny; where he still persevered in laying schemes of rebellion against his sovereign: That the war being thus, on the part of the French moexcl=Yarch, entirely defensive, it would immediately cease, when the duke of Britanny, by returning to his duty, should remove the causes of it: That their master was sensible of the obligations which that 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 such 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 valour 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 ability: And that as both the justice of the cause and the obligations conferred on Henry thus preponderated on the side of France, their master expected, that, if the situation of Henry's affairs allowed him not to give assistaexcl=Yce to that kingdom, he would at least preserve a neutrality between the contending parties[*].

THIS discourse of the French ambassadors was plausible; and to give it greater weight, they communicated to Henry, as in confidence, their master's intentexcl=Yon, after he should have composed the differences with Britanny, 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 Britanny; 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 dutchy, 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 every enterprize, which required perseverance; and as the heir of the crown was confederated with the duke of Britanny, the courtiers 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 Britanny, 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 independancy of Britanny, so able by her power and situation to give effectual and prompt assistance, would permit such an accession of force to be made to her rival. He imagined, therefore, that the ministers of France, convinced of the impracticability of their schemes, would at last embrace pacific views, and would abandon an enterprize, so obnoxious to all the potentates of Europe.

THIS reasoning of Henry was solid, and might very 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 enterprizes and distant expeditions; and engaged him previously to try the expedient of negotiation. He dispatched Urswic, his almoner, a man of address and ability, 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 their ambitious projects. Urswic found the lady of Beaujeu, now dutchess of Bourbon, engaged in the siege of Nantz, and had the satisfaction to find that his master's mediation was very readily embraced, and with many expressions of confidence and moderation.
Dissimulation of the French Court.

That able princess concluded, that the duke of Orleans, who governed the court of Britanny, forseeing that every accommodation must be made at his expence, would use all his interest to have Henry's proposal rejected; and would by that means make an effectual 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 applications to the duke of Britanny, he received for answer, in name of that Prince, that having so long acted the part of protector and guardian to Henry, during his youth and adversity, 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 was 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 Britanny, and its annexation to the crown of France: That that kingdom, already become 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 Britanny, 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 pyracies or naval armaments, the commerce and peace of England: And that if the duke refused Henry's mediation, it proceeded neither from an inclination to a war, which he experienced to be so ruinous to him, nor from a confidence in his own force, which he knew to be so much inferior to that of the enemy; but merely from a sense of his present necessity, which must engage the King to act the part of his confederate, not of a mediator.

WHEN this answer was reported to the King, he abandoned not the system of conduct 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 Britanny, anxious for their duke's safety, had formed a tumultuary army of 60,000 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 Britanny to subjection. He continued therefore the 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 Scotch man of quality, to London, and pressed Henry not to be discouraged in offering his mediation to the court of Britanny. The King on his part dispatched another embassy composed of Urswic, the abbot of Abingdon and Sir Richard Tonstal, who carried new proposals for an amicable accommodation. No effectual succours, mean while, were provided for the distressed Bretons. The lord Woodville, brother to the queen dowager, a man of courage and enterprize, having asked leave to raise underhand a body of volunteers and transport them into Britanny, 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 intentions. He went over to the Isle of Wight, of which he was governor; levied a body of 400 men; and having at last obtained, as is supposed, the secret permission of Henry, sailed with them to Britanny. This enterprize proved fatal to the leader, and brought small relief to the unhappy Duke.
28th of July.

The Bretons rashly engaged in a general action with the French at St. Aubin, and were totally discomfited. Woodville and all the English were put to the sword; together with a body of Bretons, who had been accouttered 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 Britanny was totally dissipated.
9th September.

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.

THO' the King prepared not against these events, so hurtful to the interest of England, with sufficient vigour and precaution, he had not altogether overlooked them. Determined to observe a pacific conduct, as far as the situation of affairs would permit, he yet knew the warlike disposition of his subjects, and observed, that their antient and inveterate animosity to France was now revived by the prospect of this great accession to its power and grandeur. He resolved therefore to make advantage of those humours, and to draw some supplies of money from the people, under pretext of giving assistance to the Duke of Britanny. He had summoned a Parliament to meet at Westminster[†]; and he soon perswaded them to grant him a considerable subsidy[‡]. But this supply, tho' voted by Parliament, involved the King in unexpected difficulties.
An insurrection in the North.

The counties of Durham and York, always discontented with Henry's government, and farther provoked by the late oppressions, under which they had laboured, after the suppression of Simnel's rebellion, resisted the commissioners who were appointed to levy the new 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 humours of a discontented populace, and foreseeing the pernicious consequences of such a precedent, renewed his orders for a strict levy of 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 inforce obedience, but which tended only to provoke the people, and make them believe him the adviser of those orders which he delivered to them[†]. They flew to arms, and attacked Northumberland's house, whom they put to death. Having incurred such deep guilt, their mutinous humour prompted them to declare against the King himself; and being instigated by one John Achamber, a seditious fellow of mean birth, they chose Sir John Egremond their leader, and prepared themselves for a vigorous resistance. Henry was not dismayed with an insurrection so precipitant and ill supported. He immediately levied a force which he put under the command of the earl of Surrey, whom he had delivered from confinement, and restored to his favour. 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 a raw and unarmed multitude; and he succeeded in the attempt.
Suppressed.

The rebels were dissipated; John Achamber taken prisoner, and afterwards executed with some of his accomplices; Sir John Egremond fled to the dutchess of Burgundy, who gave him protection; the greater number of the rebels received their pardon.

HENRY had probably expected, when he obtained this grant from the Parliament, that he would be able to terminate the affair of Britanny 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 some measures, in order to support them. On the death of the duke, the French had revived some antiquated claims to the dominion of the dutchy; and as the duke of Orleans was now captive in France, their former pretext for hostilities could no longer serve as a cover to their ambition. The King resolved therefore to engage as auxiliary to Britanny; and to consult the interest, 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 6000 men, with an intention of transporting them into Britanny. Still anxious, however, for the payment of his expences, he concluded a treaty with the young dutch•ss, by which she was engaged to deliver into his hands two sea-port towns, there to remain till she should entirely refund the charges of the armament[*]. Tho' he engaged for the service of these troops during the space of eight months only, yet was the dutches• obliged, by the necessity of her affairs, to submit to such rigid conditions, imposed by an ally, s• much concerned in interest to protect her.
King send
•

forces into Britanny. 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 proposed by dilatory measures to waste the fire of the English, and disgust them with their enterprize. The scheme was well laid, and met with success. Lord Broke found such discord and confusion in the councils of Britanny, that no measures could be concerted for any undertaking; no supply obtained; no provisions, carriages, ar•illery, 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 enterprize, by these animosities and uncertain councils, returned home as soon as the time of their service was elapsed; leaving only a small garrison in those towns which had been put into their hands. During their stay in Britanny, they had done nothing but contributed still farther to waste the country; and by their departure, they left it entirely at the mercy of the enemy. So feeble was the succour, 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 dissension among the Bretons was the disposal of the young dutchess in marriage. The mareschal Rieux seconded the suit of the lord Albert, who led some forces to her assistance. The chancellor Montauban, observing the aversion of the dutchess to this suitor, insisted, that a petty prince, such as Albert, was unable to support Anne in her present extremities; and he recommended some more powerful alliance, particularly that of Maximilian, King of the Romans. This party at last prevailed; the marriage with Maximilian was celebrated by proxy; and the dutchess thenceforth assumed the title of queen of the Romans. But this magnificent appellation was all she gained by her marriage. Maximili•n, destitute of troops and money, and embarrassed with the continual revolts of the Flemings, could give no assistance to his distressed consort: While Albert, enraged at the preference given his rival, deserted her cause, and received the French into Nantz, the most important place in the dutchy, both for strength and riches.

THE French court began now to change their scheme with regard to the subject on of Britanny. Charles had formerly been assianced to Margaret daughter of Maximilian; who, tho' too young to consummate her marriage, had been sent to Paris to be educated, and bore at this time 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, heiress to the whole dominions of the house of Burgundy; and seemed in many respects the most proper match, which could be chosen for the young monarch. These circumstances had so blinded the councils both of Maximilian and Henry, that they never suspected any other intentions in the French court; nor were able to discover, that engagements, so advantageous and so solemnly entered into, could be infringed and set aside. But Charles began to perceive, that the conquest of Britanny, in opposition to the natives, and to all the great powers in Christendom, would prove a very difficult enterprize; and that even, if he should over-run 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 dutchess could fully re-annex 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 should possess Flanders on the one hand, and Britanny on the other, and 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 espousals of the dutchess of Britanny, and the King of France.

THIS expedient, which had not been foreseen by any court of Europe, and which they were, all of them, so much engaged in point of interest to oppose, it was requisite to keep a profound secret, and only to discover to the world by the full execution of it. The measures of the French ministry were in the conduct of this delicate enterprize very wise and political. While they pressed Britanny with all the rigours 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 dutchess, they gave him his liberty, and sent him into Britanny. These persons, supported by other emissaries of France, prepared the minds of men for the great revolution projected, and displayed, tho' still with many precautions, all the advantages of an union with the French monarchy. They represented to the British barons, that their country, harrassed 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 uniting them closely with a power, which was rival to the greatness of France, fixed them in perpetual enmity with that powerful monarchy: That their near neighbourhood exposed them first to the inroads of the enemy; and the happiest event, which in such a situation could befal them, would be to attain peace, tho' by a final subjection to France, and by the loss of that liberty, transmitted them from their ancestors: And that any other expedient, compatible with the honour of the state, and their duty to their sovereign, was preferable to a scene of such disorder and devastation.

THESE suggestions had influence on the Bretons: But the chief difficulty lay in surmounting the prejudices of the young dutchess herself. That princess had imbibed in her education a strong prejudice against the French nation, and particularly against Charles, who had been 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 another person. In order to overcome her obstinacy, Charles gave the duke of Orleans his liberty, who, tho' formerly a suitor of the dutchess, was now contented to ingratiate himself with the King, by employing in his favour all the interest which he still possessed in Britanny. The mareschal Rieux and chancellor Montauban were reconciled by his negotiations; 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. From their suggestion, Charles advanced with a powerful army and invested Rennes, at that time the residence of the dutchess; 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.
Annexation of Britanny to France.

She was married at Langey in Touraine; conducted to St. Denis, where she was crowned; and 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 their 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 being 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 tye 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 tho' the affair had terminated in a manner which he could not precisely foresee, his negligence, in leaving so long his most useful▪ ally 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 very much 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 farther 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.
7th July.

Under pretext of a French war, he issued a commission for levying a Benevolence on his people[*]; an arbitrary taxation, which had been abolished by a recent law of Richard the third, and which was the more provoking, that, tho' really raised by menaces and extortion, it was nevertheless pretended to be given by the voluntary consent of the people. This violence fell chiefly on the commercial part of the nation, who were possessed of the ready money. London alone contributed to the amount of near 10,000 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 was splendid and hospitable, they were concluded opulent on account of their expences. This device was by some called chancellor Morton's fork, and by others his crutch.

27th October.

A Parliament.

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 farther by working on their passions and prejudices. He knew the resentment, which the English had conceived against France, by reason of the conquest of Britanny; and he took care to insist on that topic, in the speech, which he himself pronounced to the Parliament. He told them, that France, elevated with her late successes, had even proceeded to a cont mpt of England, and had refused to pay that tribute, which Lewis the eleventh had stipulated to Edward the fourth: That it became so warlike a nation as the English to be rouzed with this indignity, and not to limit their pretensions merely to repressing the present injury: That for his part, he was determined to lay claim to the crown of France itself, and to maintain by force of arms so just a title transmitted to him by his gallant ancestors: That Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt 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 at London, and a King of England had been crowned at Paris; events which should animate them to an emulation of like glory with that enjoyed by their forefathers: That the domestic dissensions of England had been the ••le cause of her losing these foreign dominions; and her present union and harmony would be the effectual means of recovering them: That where such lasting honour 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 encrease, rather than diminish, the riches of the nation[*]

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 his affairs, that he had no serious intention of pushing the war to such extremity as he pretended. France was not now in the same condition as when such successful inroads had been made into her by the former Kings of England. The great fiefs were united to the crown; the princes of the blood were desirous of peace and tranquility; the kingdom abounded with able captains and veteran soldiers; and the general aspect of its affairs seemed more to threaten its neighbours, than to subject it to any insults from them. 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 the third, who had been murdered by his rebellious subjects, had made way for the succession of his son, James the fourth, who was devoted to the French interest, and would surely be alarmed with any progress of the English arms. But all these obvious considerations had no influence with the Parliament. Inflamed by the ideas of subduing France, and of inriching themselves with 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.

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 arms to the gates of Paris, and putting the crown of France on Henry's head. Many of them borrowed large sums or sold off manors, that they might appear in the field with greater splendour, and lead out their followers in more compleat order.
War with France.

The king crossed the seas, 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 enterprize, he instantly marched with his army into the enemy's country, and laid siege to Bulloigne:
Invasion of France.

But notwithstanding this appearance of a hostile disposition, there had been secret advances made towards a 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 hoped for 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. Tho' these articles of intelligence were carefully dispersed thro' the army, the King was still apprehensive, lest a sudden peace, after such magnificent promises and high expectations, would expose him to great reproach. That he might more effectually cover the intended measures, he secretly engaged the marquiss of Dorset, together with twenty three persons of condition, to present him a petition for his 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 Bulloigne, 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 the lord Daubeney were sent to confer at Estaples with the mareschal of Cordes, and to put the last hand to the treaty. A few days sufficed for this purpose: The demands of Henry were wholly pecuniary; and the King of France, who esteemed the peaceable possession of Britanny an equivalent for any money, and who was all on fire for his projected expedition into Italy, readily agreed to the proposals made him.
3d of November.

Peace with France.

He engaged to pay Henry seven hundred and forty-five thousand crowns, about one hundred and eighty-six thousand two hundred and fifty pounds sterling; partly as a reimbursement of the sums advanced for Britanny, partly as arrears of the pension due to Edward the fourth. 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 comprehended in Henry's treaty, if he pleased to accept of it; 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, Franchecomte and Charolois, which had been given as the dowry of his daughter, when she was affianced to the King of France.

THE peace, concluded between England and France, was the more likely to continue, that 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 enterprize, which Henry regarded with the greater indifference, that Naples lay remote from him, and France had never, in any age, been successful on 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 every day augmenting; his treasures had encreased even from the most unprosperous 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 promising situation, the King had reason to flatter himself with the prospect of a durable peace and tranquillity: But his inveterate and indefatigable enemies, whom he had wantonly provoked, raised up to him an adversary, who kept him long in inquietude, and sometimes even brought him into danger.

THE dutchess of Burgundy, full of resentment for the depression of her family and its partizans, rather irritated than discouraged with the bad success of her past enterprizes, was determined at least to disturb that government, which she found it so difficult to subvert. By means of her emissaries, she propagated the report, that her nephew, Richard Plantagenet, duke of York, had escaped▪ from the Tower when his elder brother was murdered, and that he lay still somewhere concealed: And finding this rumour, however improbable, to be greedily received by the people, she had been looking out for some young man, proper to personate that unfortunate prince.

Perkin Warbec.

THERE was one Osbec or Warbec, a renegado Jew of Tournay, who had been carried by some business to London in the reign of Edward the fourth, and had there a son born to him. Having had opportunities of being known to the King, and obtaining his favour, 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 Peter-kin, or Perkin. It was by some believed, that Edward, among his other amorous adventures, had had a secret correspondence with Warbec's wife; and from this incident people accounted for that resemblance, which was afterwards remarked between young Perkin and that monarch[*]. Some years after the birth of this child, Warbec returned to Tournay; where Perkin his son remained not long, 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 careful enquiry. The variety of his adventures had happily favoured 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 dutchess of Burgundy, who, struck with the concurrence of so many circumstances suited to her purpose, desired to be made acquainted with the person, on whom she began already to ground her hopes of success.
His imposture.

She found him to exceed her most sanguine expectations; so beautiful 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 behaviour and conversation. The lessons, which were necessary to be taught him, in order to his personating the duke of York, were soon learned by a youth of such quick comprehension; but as the season seemed not then favourable for his enterprize, 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 phaenomenon; and Ireland, which still retained its attachments to the house of York, was pitched on as the proper place for his first appearance[†]. He landed at Corke; and immediately assuming the name of Richard Plantagenet, drew to him partizans among that ignorant and 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 his uncle Richard's cruelty; 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 favour.

THE news soon reached France; and Charles, prompted by the private sollicitations of the dutchess of Burgundy, and the intrigues of one Frion, a secretary of Henry, 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 Congresall 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 person, supported the prepossession, which was spread abroad of his royal pedigree: And the whole kingdom was full of the accomplishments, as well as 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 Neville, Sir John Taylor, and a hundred gentlemen more came to Paris, in order to offer their service 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.

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 Plantagenet retired to the dutchess of Burgundy in Flanders, and craving her protection and assistance, offered to lay before her all the proofs of that birth, to which he laid claim.
He is
•••

wed by the dutchess of B•rgundy, The princess affected ignorance of his pretensions; even put on the appearance of distrust; and having, as she said, been already deceived by Simnel's claim, 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 delivery, embraced him as her nephew, the true image of Edward, the sole heir of the Plantagenets, and the legitimate successor of the English throne. 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 honoured 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 surmize 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 natives of the Low Countries, were every day more and more prepossessed in favour 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 with Henry's government, by which they found the nobility depressed, began to turn their eyes towards this new claimant, and some of them even entered into a correspondence with him.
and by many of the English nobility.

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 favour of his enemy[*]. Sir Robert Clifford and William Barley were still more open in their measures: They went over to Flanders, offered their service to Perkin, and were introduced by the dutchess of Burgundy to his acquaintance. 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 such high rank and character, was sufficient with many to put the matter beyond all question, and excited the wonder and attention even of the most indifferent. The whole nation were 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 well informed of all these particulars; but agreeable to his character, which was both cautious and resolute, he proceeded very deliberately, but steadily, in counter-working the projects of his enemies. His first object was to ascertain the death of the real duke of York, and to confirm the opinion, which had always prevailed with regard to that event. Four persons had been employed by Richard in the murder of his nephews; Sir James Tirrel, to whom he had committed the government of the Tower for that purpose, and who had seen the dead princes; Miles Forrest and John Dighton, who perpetrated the action; and the priest who buried the bodies. Tirrel and Dighton alone were alive, and they agreed in the same story; but as the priest was dead, and as the bodies had 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 considence of his 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 hopes of reward and pardon, to betray the secrets committed to him; the more trust he gave any of his spies, the higher resentment did he feign against them; some of them he even caused to be excommunicated and 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 laid clearly before him; and the whole pedigree, adventures, life and conversation of the pretended duke of York. This latter story was immediately published for the satisfaction of the nation: The conspirators he reserved for a flower and more secure vengeance.

MEANWHILE, he remonstrated with the archduke Philip, on account of the countenance and protection, which was afforded in his dominions to so infamous an imposture; 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 applications rejected; under pretence that Philip had no authority over the demesnes of the dutchess dowager. And the King, in resentment of this injury, cut off all commerce with the Low Countries, banished the Flemings from England, 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 humours of their prince, to be deprived of so beneficial a branch of commerce as that 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 Ratcliff, 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 retained in custody; but having practised 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[*].

GREATER and more solemn preparations were esteemed requisite for the trial of Stanley, lord chamberlain, whose authority in the nation, whose domestic connexions with the King, as well as his former great 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 placed at the council table; craving pardon for his past offences, and offering to attone for them by any services, which should be required of him. Henry 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 whole proofs of his guilt. Stanley himself could not discover more surprize than was affected by Henry on this 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 honour and favour, he had endeavoured to express his gratitude; whose brother, the earl of Derby, was the King's 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 this accusation; but as he persisted in the same positive asseverations, Stanley was committed to custody, and soon after examined before the council[†]. He denied not the guilt imputed to him by Clifford; he did not even endeavour much to extenuate it; whether he thought that a frank and open confession would serve for an atonement, or trusted to his present connexions, and his former services, for pardon and security.
Trial and execution of Stanley.

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 humour 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 merks in plate and money, besides other property of great value, the prospect of so rich a forfeiture was deemed no small motive in Henry for proceeding to extremity against him.
15th of February.

After six weeks delay, which was interposed in order to shew that the King was restrained by doubts and scruples; he was brought to his trial, condemned, and presently after beheaded. Historians are not well 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 was sure the young man, who appeared in Flanders, was really son to King Edward, he never would bear arms against him. This 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, what 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 whole kingdom, and struck all Perkin's retainers with the deepest dismay. From Clifford's desertion, they found that all their secrets were discovered; and as it appeared, that Stanley, even while he seemed to live in the greatest confidence with the King, had been continually surrounded by spies, who reported and registered every action which he committed, nay, every word which fell from him, a general distrust took place, and all mutual confidence was destroyed, even among the most 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 enterprizes, 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 2743 pounds, and was obliged to compound for sixteen hundred and fifteen. This was the first noted case of that nature; but it became a precedent, which prepared the way for many others. The management, indeed, of these oppressive arts was the great secret of the King's administration. While he depressed the nobility, he exalted, and honoured 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 burthensome, that, by extending his own authority, and curbing the nobles, he became in reality the sole oppressor in his kingdom.

AS Perkin found, that the King's authority gained ground daily 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 partizans. Having gathered together a band of outlaws, pirates, robbers, and necessitous persons of all nations, to the number of 600 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's 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 gathered together some troops to oppose him; but they proposed 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 commit himself into their hands; and the Kentish troops despairing of success in their stratagem, set upon such of his retainers, as were already landed; and besides some who were slain and some who escaped, they took an hundred and fifty prisoners. These were tried and condemned; and all of them executed, by order from the King, who was resolved to use no mixture of lenity towards men of such desperate fortunes[*].

A Parliament.

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 assist in arms or otherwise 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 blame, as favourable to usurpers; were there any precise rules, 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 their own favour, it seems but equitable to secure those who act in support of established 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 partizans against all events; but as he had himself observed a different 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 plainly contradictory to the fundamental principles of political government.

THIS Parliament also passed an act, impowering 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 directly authorized and justified.

THE King's authority appeared equally prevalent and uncontrolable in Ireland. Sir Edward Poynings had been sent over with some troops into that country, with an intention of quelling the partizans of the house of York, and of reducing the natives to subjection. He was not supported with forces sufficient for that important enterprize: The Irish, by flying into their woods, and morasses, and mountains, in some measure, 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, the Parliament of England were empowered to make laws for Ireland; and no bill can be introduced into the Irish parliament, unless it previously receive the sanction of the council of England.

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 enterprize. 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 with 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 e••eminate troops were dissipated 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 thro' 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 inconstant system of politics prevailed; and even those small remains of fidelity and honour, 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 nor expected their success; and was the first alarmed at 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 expence or trouble in consequence of his engagements. The King of France, terrified by so powerful a combination, retired from Naples with the greatest part of his army, and returned to France. The forces, which he left in his new conquests, partly by the revolt of the inhabitants, partly by the invasion of the Spaniards, were 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, Frederic, in peaceable possession of the throne.

CHAP. III.

Perkin returns to Scotland.—Insurrection in the West.—Battle of Blackheath.—Truce with Scotland.—Perkin taken prisoner.—Perkin executed.—The earl of Warwic executed—Marriage of prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon.—His death.—Marriage of the princess Margaret with the King of Scotland.—Oppressions of the People.—A Parliament.—Arrival of the King of Castile.—Intrigues of the Earl of Suffolk.—Sickness of the King—his death—and character.—His laws.

AFTER Perkin was repulsed from the coast of Kent, he retired into Flanders; but as he found it impossible to subsist 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 Poinings 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 the fourth, who then governed that kingdom. He had been previously recommended to that prince by the King of France, who was disgusted that Henry had entered into the league against him; and this recommendation was even seconded by Maximilian, who, tho' one of the confederates, stood on ill terms with the King, on account of his prohibition of commerce with the Low Countries.
Perkin
〈◊〉

to Scotland. The countenance given Perkin by these princes procured him a favourable reception with the King of Scotland, who assured him, that, whatever he were, he never should repent the putting himself into his hands[*]: The insinuating address and plausible behaviour of the youth himself seem even to have gained him credit and authority. James, whom years had not yet taught distrust and 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 Catherine Gordon, daughter of the Farl of Huntley, and a near kinswoman of his own; a young woman too, eminent for virtue as well as beauty.

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 with 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 disperst a manifesto, where he set forth his own story, and craved the assistance of all his subjects in expelling the usurper, whose tyranny and mal-administration, 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 by 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 Scotch, but an unwelcome present to the English nation. The ravages also, committed by the borderers, accustomed to licence 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 publickly remonstrated with his ally against the depredations exercised by the Scotch army[*]: But James told him, that he doubted his concern was employed only in behalf of his enemy, and that he was anxious to preserve what never would 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.

THE King discovered little anxiety to procure either reparation or vengeance for this insult committed on him by the Scotch nation: His chief concern was to draw advantage from it, by the pretence which it would afford him to levy impositions on his own subjects. He summoned a Parliament, to whom he made bitter complaints against the irruption of the Scotch, the absurd imposture which was countenanced by that nation, the cruel devastation which they had spread over the northern counties, and the complicated affront which had thus been offered both to the King and kingdom of England. The Parliament made the expected return to this discourse of the King, by granting him a subsidy to the amount of 120,000 pounds, together with two fifteenths. After making this grant, they were dismissed.

THE vote of parliament for imposing the tax was easily 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 amassed by the King, could ill brook the new impositions raised on every slight occasion; and it is probable, that the flaw, which was universally known to lie in his title, made his reign the more subject to insurrections and rebellions.
Insurrection in the West.

When the subsidy began to be levied in Cornwal, the inhabitants, numerous and poor, robust and courageous, murmured against a tax, occasioned by a sudden inroad of the Scotch, from which they esteemed themselves entirely secure, and which had commonly been repelled by the force of the northern counties. Their ill humour was farther incited by one Michael Joseph, a farrier of Bodmin, a notable, talking fellow, who, by thrusting himself forward on every occasion, and being loudest in every complaint against the government, had acquired an authority among these rude people. Thomas Flammoc too, a lawyer, who had become the oracle of the neighbourhood, encouraged the sedition, by informing them, that the tax, tho' imposed by Parliament, was entirely illegal; that the northern nobility, by their tenures, were obliged to defend the nation against the Scotch; and that if these new impositions were tamely submitted to, the avarice of Henry and of his courtiers would soon render the burthen intolerable upon the nation. A petition, he said, must be delivered to the King, seconded by such 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 shew that they had nothing in view but the public good, and the redress of all those grievances, under which the people had so long laboured.

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 insurgents killed in their fury an officious and eager commissioner for the subsidy, whom they called the provost of Perin. When they reached Wells, they were joined by lord Audley, a nobleman of an antient family, popular in his deportment, but vain, ambitious, and restless in his temper. He had from the beginning entertained 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 pushed on their march; breathing destruction to the King's ministers and favourites, particularly Morton, now a cardinal, and Sir Reginald Bray, who were deemed his most active instruments in all his oppressions. Amidst 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 insurgents had been told by Flammoc, that the inhabitants of Kent, as they had ever, during all ages, remained unsubdued, and had even maintained their independancy 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 having 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 reinforcement from no quarter. There wanted not discontent every where, but no one would take part in so rash and ill-concerted an enterprize; and the situation in which the King's affairs then stood, discouraged even the boldest and most daring.

HENRY, in order to oppose the Scotch, had already levied an army, which he put under the command of lord Daubeney, the chamberlain; and so 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 dispatched thither the earl of Surry, who summoned out the forces on the borders, and made head against the enemy. Henry found here the concurrence of the three most fatal incidents, which can befal a monarchy; a foreign enemy, a domestic rebellion, and a pretender to his throne; but he enjoyed great resources in his army and treasure, and still more, in the intrepidity and courage of his own temper. He gave not, however, immediately full scope to his military spirit. On other occasions, he had always hastened to a decision, and it was an usual saying with him, that he desired but to see his rebels: But as the Cornish insurgents 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 carefully prepared the means of ensuring the victory.

Battle of Blackheath.

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 field; where he secured the city, and could easily, as occasion served, either restore the fight or finish the victory.
22d of June.

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 the 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 very formidable for their numbers, being sixteen thousand strong, and were not defective in valour; but being tumultuary troops, ill armed, and unprovided of 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 relieved by his own troops. After some resistance, the rebels were broke, and put to flight[*]. 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 would make a figure in history. The rebels, being surrounded on every side by the King's troops, were almost all made prisoners; and immediately dismissed without farther 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 favoured them on account of their inoffensive behaviour, or was pleased that they had never, during their insurrection, disputed his title, and had shewn no attachment to the house of York, the most capital 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 in men and ammunition, that he made little or no progress in the siege. Hearing that Surrey had collected some forces and was advancing upon him, he retreated backwards into his own country, and left the frontiers exposed to the inroads of the English general, who besieged and took Aiton, a small castle that lies a few miles beyond Berwic. 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 towards peace, 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 Catherine, their daughter, with Arthur prince of Wales[*].

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 of the terms of accommodation. The first demand of the English was, that Perkin should be put into their hands; but James replied, that he himself was no judge of Perkin's pretensions, but having received him as a supplicant, and promised him protection, he was determined not to betray a man, whatever he was, 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 Scotch commissioners replied, that the spoils were like water spilt upon the ground, which never could be recovered, and that Henry's subjects were better able to bear the loss than their master's 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.
Truce with Scotland.

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 never would 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 felt severely the loss resulting from their want of commerce with England, had made such interest in the arch-duke'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 dutchess 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 favourable to the Flemings, and to which they gave long the appellation of Intercursus magnus, the great treaty. And when the Engli•h merchants returned to their usual mansion at Antwerp, they were publicly received, as in procession, with great joy and •estivity.

PERKIN was a Fleming by descent, tho' born in England; and it might therefore be doubted, whether he was comprehended 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 a 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; and by their advice, 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 Cornwal, than the populace, to the number of three thousand men, flocked to his standard; and Perkin, elated with this appearance of success, took on him, for the first time, the appellation of Richard the fourth, 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 his cause. Finding that the inhabitants shut their gates against him, he laid siege to the place; but being unprovided of artillery, ammunition, and of every thing requisite for that attempt, he made no progress in his undertaking. Messengers were sent to the King, informing him of this insurrection; and the citizens meanwhile were determined to hold out to the last extremity, in expectation of receiving succour from the 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 last, to put a period to a pretension, 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, prepared themselves for the enterprize, 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 country of that name, took arms of themselves, and marched to join the King's generals. The duke of Buckingham put himself at the head of a troop of young nobility and gentry, who served as voluntiers, 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 broke up the siege of Exeter, and retired to Taunton. Tho' his followers now amounted to the number of near seven thousand men, and seemed still resolute to defend his cause, he himself despaired of success, and secretly withdrew to the sanctuary of Beuley in the new forest. The Cornish rebels submitted themselves 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 dismist with impunity. The Lady Catherine Gordon, wife to Perkin, fell into the conqueror's hands, and was treated with a generosity, which does him honour. He soothed her mind with many tokens of regard, placed her in a reputable station about the queen, and assigned her a pension, which she enjoyed even under his successor.

HENRY next 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 male-contents were still capable of reviving. But the King deemed not the matter of such importance as to merit so violent a remedy.
Perkin taken prisoner.

He employed some persons to deal with Perkin, and perswade 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 that 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. Tho' the eyes of the nation were generally opened with regard to Perkin's real parentage and station, Henry thought proper to require of him a confession of his life and adventures; and he ordered the account of the whole to be published soon after for the satisfaction of the public. But as his regard to decency made him suppress entirely the share which the dutchess 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 less credit to the authenticity of the narrative.

BUT Perkin, tho' his life was granted him, was still retained in custody; and keepers were appointed to guard him. Impatient of confinement, he broke loose 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 with 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 Westminster and at Cheapside, and obliged in both places to read aloud to the people the confession which had been formerly published in his name. He was thrown into the Tower, where his habits of restless intrigue and enterprize still 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 Warwic, who was confined to the same prison. That unfortunate prince, who had from his earliest infancy 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 impressions. 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 enterprize. The conspiracy escaped not the King's vigilance: It was even very generally believed, that the scheme was laid by himself, in order to draw Perkin and Warwic 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 executed.

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[*]. It happened about that very time, that one Wilford, a cordwainer's son▪ encouraged by the surprizing credit which had been given to other impostures, had undertaken to personate the earl of Warwic; 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 an apology for his severity towards that unfortunate 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.
The earl of Warwic executed.

21st of November.

Warwic confessed the indictment, was condemned, and the sentence was executed upon him.

THIS violent tyranny, the great stain of Henry's reign, by which he destroyed the last remaining male of the line of Plantagenet, begot great discontent among the people, who saw an unhappy prince, that had long been deprived of all the privileges of his high birth, even cut off from the common benefits of nature, now at last deprived of life itself, merely for resisting that oppression under which he laboured. In vain did Henry endeavour 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 Catherine in marriage to Arthur, while any prince of the house of York remained alive. 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 tho' these discontents festered in the minds of men, they were so checked by Henry's watchful policy and steady severity, that they appeared not to weaken his government; and foreign princes, deeming his throne now entirely secure, payed him rather the greater courtship and attention. The arch-duke Philip, in particular, desired an interview with the King; and this monarch, who had passed over to Calais, agreed to meet him at St. Peter's church near that city. The arch-duke, 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 behaviour expressed a strong desire of conciliating the friendship of England. The duke of Orleans had succeeded to the kingdom of France under the appellation of Lewis the twelfth; and having carried his arms into Italy, and subdued the dutchy of Milan, his progress begot jealousy in Maximilian, Philip's father, as well as in Ferdinand, his father-in-law. By the council, therefore, of these monarchs, the young prince endeavoured by every art to acquire the amity of Henry, whom they regarded as the chief counterpoize 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.

THE pope too, Alexander the sixth, neglected not the friendship of a monarch, whose reputation was spread all over Europe. He sent a nuntio to 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 Turk. The general frenzy for croisadoes was now entirely exhausted in Europe; but it was still thought a necessary piece of decency to pretend zeal for those pious enterprizes. Henry regreted 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 be previously composed among christian princes, and that some sea-port towns in Italy should be put into his hands for his retreat and security. It was easy to conclude from this answer, that Henry had determined with himself not to intermeddle in any wars 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 that of Ferdinand of Arragon, whose vigorous and steddy 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 tho' a resemblance of this nature be a slender foundation of confidence and friendship, where the interests of the parties in the least interfere; yet such was the situation of Henry and Ferdinand, that no jealousy ever on any occasion arose between them.
Marriage of prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon.

12th of November.

The King had now the satisfaction of compleating a marriage, which had been projected and negotiated during the course of seven years, between Arthur prince of Wales and the infanta Catherine, fourth daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella; he near sixteen years of age, she eighteen. But this marriage proved in the issue unprosperous.
2d of April.

His death.

The young prince, a few months after, sickened and died, very much regreted by the whole nation. Henry, desirous to continue his alliance with Spain, and also unwilling to restore Catherine's dowry, which was two hundred thousand ducats, obliged his second son, Henry, whom he created prince of Wales, to be contracted to the princess. The prince made all the opposition which a youth of twelve years of age was capable of; but as the King persisted in his resolution, the espousals were at last, by means of the pope's dispensation, concluded between the parties: An event, which was afterwards attended with the most important consequences.

Marriage of the princess Margaret with the King of Scotland.

THE same year, another marriage was concluded, 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, tho' interrupted by several broils; and Henry hoped, from the completion of it, to remove all source of discord with that neighbouring kingdom, by whose animosity England had been so often 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, would only become an accession to England."
11th of February.

Amidst these prosperous events, the King met with a domestic calamity, which made not such impression on him as it merited. His queen died in child-bed; and the infant lived not long after. This princess was deservedly a great favourite of the nation; and the general affection for her encreased, 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 desirable. 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, and yet interested him so little as never to touch him with concern or anxiety. His close connexions with Spain and Scotland ensured his tranquillity; and his continued successes over domestic enemies, owing to the prudence and vigour of his conduct, had reduced the people to entire submission and obedience.
Oppressions of the people.

Henry therefore, uncontrouled by apprehension or opposition of any kind, gave full scope to his natural propensity; and avarice, which had ever been his predominant passion, being encr•ased 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 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 the 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 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 last obliged to recover their liberty, by paying heavy fines and ransoms, which were called mitigations and compositions. By degrees, the very appearance of law was neglected: They 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 brow-beat 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 then prevailed, was turned into a scheme of oppression. Even the King's wards, after they came to full age, were not suffered to enter in possession of their lands without paying exorbitant fines. Men were also harassed with informations of intrusion upon scarce colourable 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 colour 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 instrument of oppression, employed by these ministers, were the penal Statutes, which, without consideration of rank, quality, or services, were strictly put in execution against all men: Spies, informers, and inquisitors were rewarded and encouraged in every corner of the kingdom: And no difference was made whether the statute was 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[*].

BY the prevalence of such an arbitrary and iniquitous administration, the English, it may safely be affirmed, were considerable losers by the ancient privilege, which secured them from all taxations and impositions, except such as were levied by their own consent. Had the King been empowered to lay on general taxes at his pleasure, he would naturally have abstained from these oppressive expedients, which destroyed all security in private property, and begot an universal diffidence thro' the nation. In vain did the people look for protection from the Parliament, which was pretty frequently summoned during this reign.
25th January.

A Parliament.

That assembly was so overawed, that, at this very time, during the greatest rage of Henry's oppression, the commons chose Dudley their speaker, the very man who was the chief instrument of his oppressions. And tho' the King was known to be immensely opulent, and had no pretence of wars or expensive enterprizes of any kind, they granted him the subsidy, which he demanded. But so insatiable was his avarice, that the next year he levied a new benevolence, and renewed that arbitrary and oppressive method of taxation. By all these arts of accumulation, joined to a rigid frugality in his expence, he so filled his coffers, that he is said to have possessed in ready money the sum of 1,800,000 pounds: An incredible treasure, if we consider the scarcity of money in those days[*].

BUT while Henry was enriching himself with 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, d•ed about this time; and it was foreseen, that by this incident the fortunes of Ferdidand, her husband, would be much affected. The King was not only attentive to the sate 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, heiress of Castile, seemed entitled to dispute with Ferdinand the present administration of that kingdom. Henry knew, that, notwithstanding his own pretensions by the house of Lancaster, the greatest part of the nation were convinced of the superiority of his wife's title; and he dreaded lest the prince, who was daily advancing towards manhood, might be tempted by ambi ion to lay immediate claim to the throne. By his perpetual attention to depress the partizans of the York family, he had more closely united them into one party, and encreased their desire of shaking off that yoke, under which they had so long laboured, and of taking every advantage, which his oppressive government would 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 could turn out more contrary to the King's inclination than the transactions in Spain. Ferdinand had become very unpopular in Castile, chiefly by reason of his former exactions and impositions; and the states of the kingdom discovered an evident resolution of preferring the title of Philip and Joan. In order to take advantage of these favourable dispositions, the archduke, now King of Castile, attended with his consort, embarked for Spain during the winter season; and meeting with a violent tempest in the channel, was obliged to take shelter in the harbour of Weymouth.
A rival of the King of Castile.

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 dispatched an express to inform the court of this important incident. The King sent in all haste the earl of Arundel to congratulate the archduke on his arrival in England, and to inform him, that he intended to pay him a visit in person, and give him a suitable reception in his kingdom. Philip knew, that he could not now depart without the King's consent; and therefore, for the sake of dispatch, 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 extract some advantage from this involuntary visit, payed him by his royal guest.

Intrigues of the Earl of Suffolk.

EDMOND de la Pole, earl of Suffolk, nephew to Edward the fourth, and brother to the earl of Lincoln, slain at the battle of Stoke, had some years before killed for a man in a sudden fit of passion, and had been obliged to apply to the King for a remission of his 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 favour, had fled into Flanders, and taken shelter with his aunt, the dutchess of Burgundy: But being promised forgiveness by the King, he returned into 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 expences at prince Arthur's marriage, 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 fly from 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, earl of Devonshire, his brother in law, married to the lady Catherine, daughter of Edward the fourth; William de la Pole, brother to the earl of Suffolk; Sir James Tirrel, and Sir James Windham, with some persons of inferior quality; and he committed them all to custody. The lord Abergavenny and Sir Thomas Green were also apprehended; but were soon after freed from their confinement. William de la Pole was retained in prison during a long time: And the earl of Devonshire recovered not his freedom during the King's life. But Henry's chief severity fell upon Sir James Windham, and Sir James Tirrel, who were both brought to their trial, condemned, and executed: The fate of the latter gave universal satisfaction, on account of his participation in the murther of the young princes, sons to Edward the fourth. Notwithstanding these discoveries and executions, Curson was still able to maintain his credit with the earl of Suffolk; and Henry, in order to remove all suspicions, 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 favour and confidence. Suffolk, astonished at this instance of perfidy, finding even that the dutchess 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, tho' not countenanced, by the archduke Philip, then in close alliance with the king.

HENRY neglected not the present opportunity of compliaining to Philip 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 farther," 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 Phillip, "will reflect dishonour upon you as well as myself. You will be thought to have used me as a prisoner."
"Then the matter is at an end," replied the King, "for I will take that dishonour upon me; and so your honour 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, by 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. He landed in Spain, was joyfully received by the Castilians, and put in possession of the throne. He died soon after; and Joan, his widow, falling into deep melancholy, Ferdinand was again enabled to re-instate himself in his authority, and to govern, till the day of his death, the whole Spanish monarchy.

THE King survived these transactions two years; but little memorable occurs in the remaining part of his reign, except his affiancing his second daughter Mary with the young archduke Charles, son of Philip of Castile. He entertained also some intention of marriage for himself; first with the queen dowager of Naples, relict of Ferdinand; afterwards with the dutchess dowager of Savoy, daughter of Maximilian, and sister of Philip.
Sickness of the King.

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 laboured, he endeavoured, by distributing of alms and founding of religious houses, to make attonement for his crimes, and to purchase, with the sacrifice of part of his ill-gotten treasures, a reconcilement to his offended Maker. Remorse even seized him by intervals for the abuses of his authority by Empson and Dudley; but not sufficient to make him stop the repacious hand of those oppressors. Sir William Capel was again fined two thousand pounds under some frivolous pretences, and was committed to the Tower for daring to murmur against that iniquity. Harris, an alderman of London, was indicted, and died of vexation before his trial came to an issue. Sir Lawrence 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 terror 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.
His death. 22d April.

He died of a consumption at his favourite palace of Richmond, after a reign of twenty-three years and eight months, and in the fifty-second year of his age[‡].

And character

THE reign of Henry the seventh was, in the main, fortunate for his people at home, and honourable abroad. He put an end to the civil wars with which the nation had been long harrassed, 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; tho' 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 tho' often severe in his punishments, he was commonly less actuated by revenge than by the maxims of policy. The services, which he rendered the people, were derived from his views of private interest, rather than the motives of public spirit; and where he deviated from selfish 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 in a high station, and possessed of talents for great affairs, in whom that passion predominated 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 are derived from riches.

THE power of the Kings of England had always been somewhat irregular or discretionary; but was scarce ever so absolute during any reign as during that of Henry. Besides the personal character of the man, full of vigour, industry, and severity, deliberate in all projects, steady in every purpose, and attended with caution, as well as good fortune, in each enterprize; became 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 nation was tired with discord and intestine convulsions, and willing to submit to usurpations, and even 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 content to support his power, tho' at the expence 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, tho' he exalted his own prerogative above law, is celebrated by his historian for many good laws, which he caused to 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 commonly contrived with much better judgement than the latter.
His laws.

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 the seventh, these matters were often misunderstood; 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 very ancient practice, was in some cases confirmed by act of Parliament[*]: Lord Bacon extols the use of this court; but men began, during the age of that historian, to feel that so arbitrary a jurisdiction was totally incompatible with liberty; and in proportion as the spirit of independance rose still higher in the nation, the aversion against it increased, till it was entirely abolished by act of Parliament in the reign of Charles the first, a little before the commencement of the civil wars.

LAWS were passed in this reign, ordering the King's suit for murder to be carried on within a year and day[†]. Formerly, it did not usually commence till after that term; and as the friends of the person murdered, in the interval, often compounded matters with the criminal, that crime was apt to pass 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 laboured under the oppression of the great; but a law very difficult to be reduced to 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 marking his crime; after which, he was punished capitally for every new offence. This law was much too indulgent, yet was in those days regarded as a violation of the rights of the church. Sheriffs were no longer allowed to fine any person, without previously summoning him before their court‖. It is strange, that such a practice should ever have prevailed. Attaint of juries was granted in cases which exceeded forty pounds value[**]. 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 conspired against the life of the steward, treasurer, or comptroller of the King's house, this design, tho' not followed by any execution, was made liable to the punishment of felony[††]. This statute was procured by the jealousy of archbishop Morton, who found himself exposed to the enmity of great numbers.

THERE scarce passed any session during this reign without some statute against engaging retainers, and giving them badges or liveries[‡‡]; a practice, by which they were, in a manner, inlisted 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[§§]. This disorder, which had arisen during turbulent times, when the law could give little protection to the subject, was then deeply rooted in England; and it required all the vigilance and rigour of Henry to extirpate it. There is a story of his severity against that abuse; which seems to merit praise, tho' it is commonly cited as an instance of his avarice and rapacity. The earl of Oxford, his favourite general, to whom he always gave great and deserved trust, having splendidly entertained him at his castle of Heningham, was desirous of making a show 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 more ga lant 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 surely 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 such a time, when they knew I was honoured with your majesty's presence." The King started a little, and said, "By my faith, my lord, I thank you for my 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 payed no less than fifteen thousand marks, as a composition for his offence.

THE encrease of the arts, more effectually than all the severities of laws, put an end to this pernicious practice. The nobility, instead of vying with each other, in the number and boldness of their retainers, acquired a more civilized species of emulation, and endeavoured to excell in the splendour and elegance of their equipage, houses, and tables. The common people, no longer maintained in a vicious idleness by their superiors, were obliged to learn some calling or industry, and became useful both to themselves and others. And it must be acknowledged, in spite of those who declaim so violently against the refinement of the art, or what they are pleased to call luxury, that, as much as an industrious tradesman is both a better man and a better citizen that one of those idle retainers, who fo merly depended on the great families; as much is the life of a modern nobleman more laudable than that of an antient 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 antient 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 encreased 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 dependant on him.

THIS King's love of money naturally led him to encourage commerce, which encreased 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 which were given to them. Severe laws were made against taking interest for money, which was then denominated usury[‡]. Even the profits of exchange were prohibited, as savouring of usury[§], which the superstition of that 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 enterprizes, which they proposed to undertake[*].

LAWS were made against the exportation of money, plate, or bullion[†]: A precaution, which serves no other purpose than to make more be exported. But so far was the anxiety on this head carried, that merchant aliens, 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 away the money in a clandestine manner[‡].

HORSES were forbid to be exported; as if that exportation did not encourage the breed, and render them more plentiful[§]. To promote archery, no bows were to be sold at a higher price that six shillings and four pence‖, 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 cloath[**], to caps and hats[††]: And labourers wages were regulated by law[‡‡]. It is evident, that these circumstances ought always to be left free, and must be trusted to the common course of business and commerce. To some it may appear surprizing, that the price of a yard of scarlet cloth should be limited to six and twenty shillings, that of a yard of coloured cloth to eighteen; higher prices than these commodities bear at present: And that the wages of a tradesman, such as a mason, bricklayer, tyler, &c. should be regulated at near ten pence a day; which is not much inferior to the present wages given in some places of England. There is a vulgar error in imagining, that the price of labour and commodities has in general risen extremely since the discovery of the West-Indies. The greater industry of the present times has encreased the number of tradesmen and labourers, so as to keep wages nearer a par than could be expected from the great encrease 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[§§]. that goods bought for sixteen pence would sometimes be sold by the merchants for three shillings. The commodities, whose price has chiefly risen, are butcher-meat, fowl, and fish, (especially the latter) which cannot be much augmented in quantity by the encrease of art and industry. The profession which then abounded most, and was embraced by persons of the lowest rank, was the church: By a clause of a statute, all clerks or students of the university were forbid to beg, without a permission from the vice-chancellor‖‖.

ONE great cause of the low state of industry during this period, was the ridiculous 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 ridiculous law had been enacted during the reign of Henry the fourth[*], that no man could bind his son or daughter to an apprenticeship, unless he was possessed of twenty shillings a year in land; and Henry the seventh, because the decay of manufactures was complained of in Norwich from the want of hands, exempted that city from the penalties of this 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 encrease of manufactures. For a like reason, the law enacted against inclosures, and for the keeping up farm houses[§], scarce deserves the high praises bestowed on it by lord Bacon. If husbandmen understand agriculture, and have a ready vent for their commodities, we need never 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 continual 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.

ONE great check to industry in England was the erecting 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 to impose tolls at their gates[**]. The cities of Glocester and Worcester had even imposed tolls on the Severne, which were abolished[††].

THERE is a law of this reign[‡‡], containing a preamble, from which it appears, that the company of merchant adventurers in London, had, by their own proper authority, debarred all the other merchants of the kingdom, from trading to the great marts in the low countries, unless each trader previously payed them the sum of near seventy pounds. It is surprising that such a by-law (if it deserves that 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 sun set, that Christopher Columbus, a Florentine, set out from Cadiz 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 the most important consequences to all the nations of Europe, even to such as were not immediately concerned in those naval enterprizes. The enlargement of commerce and navigation encr•ased 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 encreased, by this encrease of property: In most nations, the Kings, finding arms to be dropt by the barons, who could no longer endure their former rude manner of life, established standing armies, and subdued the liberties of the kingdom: 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 the seventh, 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.

IT was by accident only, that the King had not a considerable hand in those great naval discoveries, by which the present age was so much distinguished. Columbus, after meeting many repulses from the courts of Portugal and Spain, sent his brother Bartholomew into England, in order to explain his projects to Henry, and crave his protection for the execution of them. Henry invited him to England; but his brother, in returning to Spain, being taken by pyrates, was detained in his voyage; and Columbus, mean-while, having obtained the countenance of Isabella, was equipped with a small fleet, and happily executed his enterprize. Henry was not discouraged with this disappointment: He fitted out Sebastian Cabot, a Venetian, dwelling 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 [†]. This was properly speaking the first ship in the English navy. Before this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no other expedient but the hiring ships from the merchants.

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 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 through every nation of Europe. The art of printing, invented about that time, facilitated extremely the progress of all these improvements: The invention of gunpowder changed the 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 antient faith and worship: And thus a general revolution was made in human affairs throughout this part of the world; and men attained that situation with regard to commerce, arts, sciences, government, police, and cultivation, in which they have ever since persevered. Here therefore commences the useful, as well as 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 a knowledge of public affairs, or the arts of civil government.

Notes

*
Bacon in Kennet's compleat History, p. 579.
↵

†
Bacon, p. 579.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 579. Polydore Virgil, p. 565.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 567.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 581.
↵

†
Rot. Parl. 1 Hen. VII. n. 2, 3, 4.—15, 17, 26-65.
↵

‡
Bacon, p 581.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 581.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 566.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 582. Bacon adds, that the King's reason for these gradual promotions, was in order to enjoy the more first fruits; not reflecting that these belonged not to the crown, till after the reformation.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 569.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 583.
↵

†
Polydore Virgil, p. 569, 570.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 570.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 583. Polydore Virgil, p. 571.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 572, 573.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 586. Pol. Virg. p. 574.
↵

*
Polyd. Virg. p. 575.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 589.
↵

*
Argentré Hist. de Bretagne, Liv. 12.
↵

†
9th November, 1487.
↵

‡
Polydore Virgil, p. 579, says that this imposition was a capitation tax; the other historians say it was a tax of two shillings on the pound.
↵

†
Bacon, p. 595.
↵

*
Du Tillet, Recueil des Traitez.
↵

*
Rymer, Vol. XII. p. 446. Bacon says that the benevolence was levied with consent of Parliament, which is a mistake.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 601.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 605. Pol. Virg. p. 586.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 606.
↵

†
Polyd. Virg. p. 589.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 608.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 592.
↵

†
Bacon, p. 611. Polyd. Virg. p. 593.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 595.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 6. 5. Pol. Vi
•
g. p. 596, 5

•

7.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 598.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 601.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 603.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, p. 606.
↵

*
Stow, Baker, Speed, Biondi, Holingshed, Bacon▪ Some late writers have been so whimsical as to doubt, whether Perkin was an impostor, and even to assert him to be the real Richard Plantagenet, duke of York. But to refute this fancy, we need but reflect on the few following particulars. 1. Had not the queen mother, and the other heads of the York party, been fully assured of the death of both the young princes, would they have agreed to call over the earl of Richmond, the head of the Lancastrian party, and marry him to the princess Flizabeth? 2. The story told constantly by Perkin of his escape is utterly incredible, that those who were sent to murder his brother took pity on him, and granted him his liberty. 3. What became of him during the course of seven years, from his supposed death till his appearance in Ireland in 1491? Why was not the queen mother, the dutchess of Burgundy, and the other friends of the family applied to, during that time, for his support and education? 4. Tho' the dutchess of Burgundy at last acknowledged him for her nephew, she had lost all pretence to authority by her former acknowledgment and support of Lambert Simnel, an avowed impostor. It is remarkable, that Mr. Carte, in order to preserve the weight of the dutchess's testimony, in favour of Perkin, suppresses entirely this material fact. A remarkable effect of party prejudices, and the author's desire of blackening Henry the seventh, whose hereditary title to the crown was defective. 5. Perkin himself confessed his imposture more than once, and read his confession before the whole people. It is pretended that this confession was drawn from him by torture; but no antient historian gives any ground for this surmise. 6. He renewed his confession at the foot of the gibbet on which he was executed. 7. After Henry the eighth's accession, the titles of the house of York and Lancaster were fully confounded, and there was no longer any necessity for defending Henry the seventh and his title; yet all the historians of that time, when the events were recent, some of these historians too, such as Sir Thomas More, of the highest authority, agree in treating Perkin as an impostor.
↵

*
Bacon, 629, 30. Hollingshed, p. 504. Polyd. Virg. p. 613, 615.
↵

*
Silver was during this reign at 37 shillings and six pence a pound, which makes Henry's treasure above 2,750▪000 pounds sterling. Besides▪ many commodities became twice as dear by the encrease 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.
↵

*
Bacon, p. 633.
↵

†
Rymer, vol. 13. p. 14
•
.

↵

‡
Dugd. baronage II. p. 237.
↵

*
As a proof of Henry's attention to the smallest profits, Bacon tells us, that he had seen a book of Accompts 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 repayed, or the party otherwise satisfied."
Opposite to this memorandum, the King had wrote with his own hand, ‘"otherwise satisfied."’ Bacon, p. 630.

↵

*
Rot. Parl. 3. H. 7. n. 17.
↵

†
3. H. 7. cap. 1.
↵

†
11 H 7. cap. 12.
↵

‡
3 H. 7. cap. 2.
↵

§
4 H 7. cap. 13.
↵

‖
11 H. 7. cap. 15.
↵

**
11 H. 7. cap. 2
•
. 1

•

H. 7. cap. 3.
↵

††
3 H. 7. cap. 1
•
.

↵

‡‡
3 H. 7. cap. 1. & 1
•
. 11 H. 7. cap. 3. 19 H 7. cap. 14.

↵

§§
3 H. 7. cap. 12. 11 H. 7. cap. 25.
↵

†
4 H. 7. cap. 24.
↵

‡
3 H. 7. cap. 5.
↵

§
3 H. 7. cap. 6.
↵

‖
7. H. 7. cap. 8.
↵

*
Polyd. Virg.
↵

†
4 H. 7. cap. 23.
↵

‡
3 H. 7. cap. 8.
↵

§
11 H. 7. cap. 13.
↵

‖
3 H. 7. cap. 12.
↵

**
4 H. 7. cap. 8.
↵

††
4 H. 7. cap. 9.
↵

‡‡
11 H. 7. cap. 22.
↵

§§
4 H. 7. cap. 9.
↵

‖‖
11 H. 7. cap. 22.
↵

*
7 H. 7. cap. 17.
↵

†
11 H. 7. cap. 11.
↵

‡
12 H. 7. cap 1.
↵

§
4 H. 7. cap. 19.
↵

‖
19 H. 7. cap. 7.
↵

**
19 H. 7. cap. 8.
↵

††
19 H. 7. cap. 18.
↵

‡‡
12 H. 7. cap. 6.
↵

*
Rymer, vol. XIII. p. 37.
↵

†
Stowe, p. 484.
↵

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR.
HENRY VIII.

CHAP. I.

Popularity of the new King.—His ministers.—Punishment of Empson and Dudley.—King's marriage.—Foreign affairs.—Julius the second.—League of Cambray.—War with France.—Expedition to Fontarabia.—Deceit of Ferdinand.—Return of the English.—Leo the tenth.—A Parliament.—War with Scotland.—Wolsey minister.—His character.—Invasion of France.—Battle of Guinegate.—Battle of Flouden.—Peace with France.

THE death of Henry the seventh had been attended with as open and visible a joy as decency would permit;
Popularity of the new King.

and the accession and coronation of his son, Henry the eighth, spread universally a declared and unfeigned satisfaction. Instead of a monarch, jealous, severe, and avaritious, 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 very promising hopes of his future conduct, much more in those of the people, always enchanted with novelty, youth, and royal dignity. The beauty and vigour of his person, accompanied with dexterity in every manly exercise, was farther adorned with a blooming and ruddy countenance, with a lively air, with the appearance of spirit and activity in all his demeanour[*]. His father, in order to remove him from the knowledge of public business, had hitherto occupied him entirely in the study of literature; and the proficiency, which he made, gave no bad prognostic of his parts and capacity[†]. Even the vices of vehemence, ardour, and impatience, to which he was subject, and which afterwards degenerated into tyranny, were interpreted 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 so long been unknown in England.

THE favourable 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 very wisely shewed great deference to her opinion in the establishment of his new council.
His ministers.

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, knight of the garter, 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 been long accustomed to affairs under the late King, and were the least unpopular of all the ministers employed by that monarch.

BUT the chief competitors for favour and authority under the new King were the earl of Surrey, treasurer, and Fox, bishop of Winchester, secretary and privy seal. This prelate, who had 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 expence, which the youth and passions of Henry rendered agreeable to him. But Surrey was a more dextrous courtier; and tho' few had borne a greater share in the frugal politics of the last King, he knew how to conform himself to the humours 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 profit, 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 entrust the government of the state entirely into the hands of his ministers. The immense treasures, amassed by the late King, were gradually dissipated in the giddy expences of Henry. One party of pleasure succeeded another: Tilts, tournaments and carousels were exhibited with all the magnificence of that 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 employed himself chiefly in an application to music and literature, which were his favourite pursuits, and which were well adapted to his genius. 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 antients. And tho' 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 favourite author, he still discovered a capacity fitted for more useful and entertaining knowledge.

THE frank and careless humour 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 the delators and 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 from the violence of the populace.
Punishment of Empson and Dudley.

Empson and Dudley, who were most exposed to public hatred, were immediately cited before the council, in order to answer for their conduct, which had rendered them so obnoxious. 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 clamour 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; tho' that law had been established by the voluntary consent of the people, and tho' they had acted in obedience to the King, to whom the administration of justice was entrusted by the constitution: That it belonged not to them, who were instruments in the hands of the 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 to consist in the just distribution of reward and punishment, 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 to have their conduct exposed to 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 King, and had intended, on the death of the late King, to have seized by force the administration of the government. The jury were so far moved by popular prejudices, joined to court influence, as to give sentence 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.

King's marriage.

THE King, while he punished the instruments of past tyranny, had yet such deference to former engagements as to deliberate, immediately after his accession, concerning the consummation of his marriage with the infanta Catherine, to whom he was affianced during his father's lifetime. Her former marriage with his brother, and the inequality of their years, were the chief objections, which were urged against the 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 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 counterballance the power of France; the expediency of fulfilling the engagements of the late King.
June 3.

When these considerations were weighed, they determined the council, tho' contrary to the opinion of the primate, to give Henry their advice for compleating the marriage; which was done accordingly. The countess of Richmond, who had concurred in the same sentiments, died soon after the marriage of her grandson.

THE popularity of Henry's government, his indisputed title to the throne, his extensive authority, his large treasures, the tranquillity of his subjects, were circumstances which rendered his domestic administration easy and prosperous:
Foreign affairs.

The situation of foreign affairs was no less happy and desirable. Italy continued still, as during the late reign, to be the center of all the wars and negotiations of the European princes; and Henry's alliance was courted by both sides; at the same time, that he was not engaged by any immediate interest or necessity to take part with either. Lewis the twelfth of France, after the conquest of Milan, was the only great prince who 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 ballance among them. But the desire of making a conquest of Naples, to which he had the same title or pretension with his predecessor, still engaged him in new enterprizes; and as he foresaw opposition from Ferdinand, who was connected both by treaties and affinity with Frederic of Naples, he endeavoured, 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 Frederic: A plan, which the politicians of that age regarded as the most egregious imprudence in the French monarch, and the basest treachery in the Spanish. Frederic, 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 honour 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 enterprize, defeated the French in two pitched battles, and ensured to his prince the entire possession of that fine 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 suspence between these two powerful monarchs.

THERE scarce has been any period, when the ballance 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 vigour and ability. Lewis the twelfth of France, a gallant and generous prince, by espousing Anne of Britanny, widow to his predecessor, had 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 his levity of disposition, 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 entrusted to Margaret of Savoy, his aunt, a princess endowed with signal prudence and virtue. The internal force of these several powerful states, which ballanced each other, might long have maintained general tranquillity, had not the active and enterprizing genius of an ambitious pontiff first excited the flames of war and discord among them.

Julius the 2d.

ALEXANDER the sixth was dead; a man of a singular character, and, excepting his son Caesar Borgia, almost the only man who ever joined great capacity with the blackest vices and the most abandoned profligacy of manners. After a short interval, Julius the second had succeeded to the papal throne, who, tho' endowed with many virtues, gave almost as much scandal to the world as his detested predecessor: His virtues were deemed unsuitable to his station of sovereign pontiff, the spiritual judge and common father of all christians. Animated with an unextinguishable thirst of glory, inflexible in his schemes, undaunted in his enterprizes, indefatigable in his pursuits; magnanimous, imperious, domineering; his vast soul broke thro' all the •etters, which old age and a priestly character imposed upon it, and, during his pontificate, kept the world in perpetual agitation.

〈◊〉

of Cambray. By his intrigues, a league had been formed at Cambray[*], between himself, Maximilian the emperor, Lewis the twelfth of France, and Ferdinand of Arragon; and the object of this great confederacy was to overwhelm, by their united arms, the commonwealth of Venice.

THIS illustrious commonwealth, the great bulwark of Europe against the Barbarians, and the admired model of civil poli•y, had risen to a considerable power, and began to make a figure, which during that age bore some proportion to that of the great monarchies. Her riches surpassed those of any European city, her finances were great, her commerce extensive, her naval power formidable, her armies numerous and well supplied. Trusting only to her own power, she had neglected to maintain a cordial friendship with any other state; and by the endless political suspicions, which she entertained even of her allies, she had taught them to regard her progress with like jealousy. No state could reasonably complain of any injustice and usurpations in her measures: But as great monarchs never see without displeasure a republic nearly on a level with themselves, it was easy for Julius, by his negotiations among the European princes, to compleat his scheme of a confederacy against her. Ferdinand desired to wrest from the Venetians some towns on the coast of Naples, which his predecessor had voluntarily, for money, consigned into their hand: Lewis proposed to recover a part of the territory of Milan, which he himself had delivered to them by treaty: Maximilian laid claim to great part of their dominions, which they had acquired from petty princes or tyrants, that had formerly, as he pretended, in some distant period, usurped them from the empire: The pope, from like pretences, challenged another part of their dominions, as the patrimony of the church. In order to cover the sch•me of this confederacy, the cardinal d'Amboise, prime minister of France, had met at Cambray with Margaret of Savoy, under colour of accommodating a difference between her and the duke of Guelders; and it was there, that the alliance against Venice was secretly signed by the contracting powers; and all the measures of operation concerted[*].

THE Venetians were apprised of their danger, and prepared themselves for resistance. They provided every means of defence, except the most essential, brave and warlike forces, which it is impossible to raise, where the ideas of military glory are extinguished, and men▪ have, from long habit, acquired other objects of ambition. They sent into the field an army of 40,000 men under experienced l•aders, the count of Pi••gliano and Bartholomew Alviano; and hop•d, that so great a force would secure them from the invasion of Lewis, who had le• an army into Italy, and first to•k the field against them. But the marti • nobility of France, headed by their gallant sovereign, utterly discom •ited these enervated forces; and in the action of Ghi•rradadda the power and glory of Venice, the result of consummate wisdom, and the work of ages, suffered in one day a cheque, which it has never yet been able thoroughly to recover[*]. Dismayed with this loss, the Venetians took a hasty resolution of abandoning all their dominions on the continent of Italy; and they accordingly withdrew their garrisons from every place, and freed their subjects from their oaths of allegiance. Lewis immediately put himself in possession of Cremona, Bergamo, Brescia, Creme, and all the places which had been dismembered from the Milanese. Even Verona, Padua, Vicenza, and other towns, which, by the treaty of Cambray, fell under the partition of Maximilian, offered to open their gates to the French monarch. Had Maximilian, instead of wasting his time at Trent, led his forces early into Italy, an end had been put for ever to the power and dominion of Venice. But Lewis, well acquainted with the fickleness and inconstancy of that prince, was determined to give him no pretext for deserting his alliance; and therefore ordered the magistrates of those towns to make their submissions to the emperor, whom, he told them, they were now to regard as their lawful sovereign[†]. The Venetian senate, observing those delays, and remarking the extreme regret, which their subjects discovered on losing their mild and equitable government[‡], began again to assume courage, and reinstated themselves in the dominion of those cities, which they had abandoned. From this time, their prudence and sound policy gave a cheque to the malignity of their fortune and the superiority of their enemies. They voluntarily made a sacrifice to Ferdinand of those towns, which he laid claim to, and thereby detached him from the alliance[§]. They gratified the ambition of the Pope by a like sacrifice; and farther flattered his vanity by the lowest obeisance and the most dutiful submissions‖. After trying like arts with Maximilian, and finding his pretensions to be utterly exorbitant, they rouzed their patriot spirit, and prepared themselves for resistance, with a courage, which, tho' ill seconded by the unwarlike genius of their people, might have done honour to the Roman senate during the most flourishing period of the republic.

THE great force and secure situation of the considerable monarchies, prevented any one of them from aspiring to any conquest of moment; and tho' this consideration could not maintain general peace, or remedy the natural inquietude of men, it rendered the princes of this age more easy in deserting engagements and changing their alliances, in which they were retained more by humour and caprice than by any natural or durable interest. Julius had no sooner humbled the Venetian republic, than he was inspired with a nobler ambition, that of expelling all foreigners from Italy, or, to speak in the stile affected by the Italians of that age, the freeing that country entirely from the dominion of the Barbarians[*]. He was determined to make the tempest fall first upon Lewis; and in order to pave the way for this great enterprize, he at once sought for a ground of quarrel with that monarch, and courted the alliance of other princes. He declared war against the Duke of Ferrara, the closest confederate of Lewis. He sollicited the favour of England, by sending Henry a sacred rose, perfumed with musk and anointed with chrism[†]. He engaged in his interest Bambrige, archbishop of York, and Henry's ambassador at Rome, whom he soon after created cardinal. He drew over Ferdinand to his side, tho' that monarch, at first, made no declaration of his intentions. And what he chiefly valued, he framed a treaty with the Swiss cantons, who, enraged by some neglects put upon them by Lewis, accompanied with contumelious expressions, had deserted the alliance of France, and waited an opportunity of revenging themselves on that nation.

LEWIS was determined not to abandon the duke of Ferrara, who suffered merely for his attachment to the crown of France. Chaumont, his lieutenant in the Milanese, received orders to defend him against Julius, who, supported by his own dauntless spirit, and confiding in the sacredness of his character, had set his enemy at defiance. By a happy and unexpected movement, Chaumont surrounded the pope and all his court in Bologna; and had he not allowed himself to be amused by a treaty, which his profound respect for the holy father made him the more willing to hearken to, he had been able, without any bloodshed, to have reduced him to captivity. Finding himself exposed to severe censure for not pushing his advantages, he was agitated with such violent regret that he fell into a languishing illness, of which he soon after died; tho' opposite remorses took place on his death-bed, and he very humbly claved of his holiness a remission of his grievous sin, in having at all born arms against him[‡].

WHILE the French monarch repelled the attacks of his enemies, he thought it also requisite to make an attack on the pope himself, and to despoil him, as much as possible, of that sacred character, which chiefly rendered him formidable. He engaged some cardinals, disgusted with the violence of Julius, to desert him; and by their authority, he was determined, in conjunction with Maximillan, who still adhered to his alliance, to call a general council, which might reform the church, and check the exorbitancies of the Roman pontiff. A council was summoned at Pisa, which from the beginning bore a very inauspicious aspect, and promised little success to its adherents. Except a few French bishops, who unwillingly obeyed their King's orders in attending the council, all the other prelates kept at a distance from an assembly, which they regarded as the offspring of faction, intrigue, and worldly politics. Even Pisa, the place of their residence, showed them signs of contempt; which engaged them to transfer their session to Milan, a town under the dominion of the French monarch. Notwithstanding this advantage, they did not experience much more respec•••• treatment from the inhabitants of Milan; and found it necessary to make another ••move to Lyons[*]. Lewis himself fortified these violent prejudices in favour of 〈◊〉 papa• authority, by the symptoms, which he discovered, of regard, deference, and submission to Julius, whom he always spared, even when fortune had thrown into his hands the most inviting opportunities of humbling him. And as it was known, that his consort, who had great authority with him, was extremely disquieted in mind, on account of his dissentions with the holy father, all men prog•osticated to Julius final success in this unequal contest.

THAT enterprizing pope knew his advantages, and availed himself of them with the utmost temerity and insolence. So much had he neglected his pontifical character, that he assisted in person at the siege of Mirandola, visited the trenches, saw some of his attendants killed by his side, and, like a young soldier, chearfully bore all the rigours of winter and a severe season, in pursuit of military glory[†]: Yet was he still able to throw, even on his most moderate opponents, the charge of impiety and prophaneness. He summoned a council at the Lateran: He put Pisa under an interdict, and all the places which gave shelter to the schismatical council: He excommunicated the cardinals and prelates who attended it: He even directed his spiritual thunders against the princes who adhered to it: He freed their subjects from all oaths of allegiance, and gave their dominions to every one, who could take possession of them.

FERDINAND of Arragon, who had acquired the sirname of the Catholic, regarded the cause of the pope and of religion only as a cover to his ambition and selfish politics: Henry, naturally sincere and sanguine in his temper, and the more so on account of his youth and inexperience, was moved with a hearty desire of protecting the pope from that oppression, to which he believed him exposed from the ambitious enterprizes of Lewis. Hopes had been given him by Julius, that the title of the most Christian King, which had hitherto been annexed to the crown of France, and which was regarded as its most precious ornament, would, in reward of his services, be transferred to that of England[*]. Impatient also of acquiring that distinction in Europe, to which his power and opulence entitled him, he could not long remain neuter amidst the noise of arms; and the natural enmity of the English against France, as well as their antient claims upon that kingdom, led Henry to join that alliance which the pope, Spain, and Venice had formed against the French monarch. A herald was sent to Paris, to exhort Lewis not to wage impious war against the pope; and when he returned without success, another was sent to make a demand of the antient patrimon•al provinces, Anjou, Maine, Guienne, and Normandy.
War with France.

4th of February.

This message was understood as a declaration of war; and a Parliament, being summoned, readily granted supplies for a purpose so much favoured by the English nation[†].

BUONAVISO, an agent of the pope at London, had been corrupted by the court of France, and had previously revealed to Lewis all the measures which Henry was concerting against him. But this infidelity did the King inconsiderable prejudice, in comparison of what he experienced from the selfish purposes of the ally, to whom he chiefly trusted for assistance. Ferdinand, his father-in-law, had so long persevered in a course of crooked politics, that he began even to value himself on his dexterity in fraud and artifice; and he made a boast of those shameful successes. Being told one day, that Lewis the twelfth, a prince of a very different character, had complained that he had once cheated him: "He lies, the drunkard!" said he, "I have cheated him above twenty times." This prince considered his close connexion with Henry, only as the means which enabled him the better to take advantage of his want of experience. He advised him not to invade France by the way of Calais, where he himself would not have it in his power to assist him:
Expedition to Fontarabia.

He exhorted him rather to send forces to Fontarabia, whence he could easily make a conquest of Guienne, a province, in which, it was imagined, the English had still some adherents. He promised to assist this conquest by the junction of a Spanish army. And so forward did he seem to promote the interest of his son-in-law, that he even sent vessels into England, to transport over the forces which Henry had levied for that purpose. The marquess of Dorset commanded these troops, which consisted of ten thousand men, mostly infantry; the lord Howard, son to the earl of Surrey, the lord Broke, lord Ferrars, and many others of the young gentry and nobility, accompanied him in this service. All were on fire to distinguish themselves by military atchievements, and to make a conquest of importance for their master. The secret purpose of Ferdinand in this unexampled generosity was suspected by no body.

THE small kingdom of Navarre lies on the frontiers between France and Spain; and as John d'Albert, the present King, was connected in friendship and alliance with Lewis, the opportunity seemed favourable to Ferdinand, while the English forces were conjoined with his own, and while all adherents to the council of Pisa lay under the sentence of excommunication, to put himself in possession of these dominions. No sooner, therefore, was Dorset landed in Guipiscoa, than the Spanish monarch declared his readiness to join him with his forces, to make jointly an invasion of France, and to form the siege of Bayonne, which opened the way into Guienne[*]: But he remarked, how dangerous it might prove to leave behind them the kingdom of Navarre, which, being in close alliance with France, could easily give admittance to the enemy, and cut off all communication between Spain and the combined armies. To provide against so dangerous an event, he required, that John should stipulate a neutrality in the present war; and when that prince expressed his willingness to enter into any engagement for that purpose, he also required that he should give security for his strict observance of it. John having likewise agreed to this condition, Ferdinand demanded, that he should deliver into his hands six of the most considerable places of his dominions, together with his eldest son as a hostage. These were not conditions to be proposed to a sovereign; and as the Spanish monarch expected a refusal, he gave immediate orders to the duke of Alva, his general, to make an invasion of Navarre, and to reduce the whole kingdom to subjection. Alva soon made himself master of all the smaller towns; and being ready to form the siege of Pampeluna, the capital, he summoned the marquis of Dorset to join him with the English army, and to concert together all their operations.

DORSET began to suspect, that his master's interests were very little regarded in all these transactions; and having no orders to invade the kingdom of Navarre, or make war any where but in France, he refused to take any part in that enterprize .
Deceit of Ferdinand.

He remained therefore in his quarters at Fontarabia; but so politic was the contrivance of Ferdinand, that even while the English army lay in that situation, it was almost equally serviceable to his purposes, as if it had acted in conjunction with his own. It kept the French army in awe, and prevented it from advancing to succour the kingdom of Navarre; so that Alva, having full leisure to conduct the siege, made himself master of Pampeluna, and obliged John to seek for shelter in France. The Spanish general applied again to Dorset, and proposed to conduct with united councils the operations of the holy league, so it was called, against Lewis: But as he still declined forming the siege of Bayonne, and rather insisted on the invasion of the principality of Bearne, a part of the King of Navarre's dominions, which lies on the French side of the Pyrences, Dorset, justly suspicious of his sinister intentions, represented, that, without new orders from his master, he could not concur in such an undertaking. In order to procure such orders, Ferdinand dispatched Martin de Ampios, as his envoy, to London; and perswaded Henry, that, by the refractory and scrupulous humour of the English general, the most favourable opportunities were lost, and that it was necessary he should, in all things, act in concert with the Spanish commander, who was best acquainted with the situation of the country, and the reasons of every operation. But before orders to this purpose reached Spain, Dorset had become extremely impatient; and observing that his farther stay served not to promote the main undertaking, and that his army was daily perishing by want and sickness, he demanded shipping from Ferdinand to transport them back into England. Ferdinand, who was bound by treaty to furnish him with this supply, whenever demanded, was at last, after many delays, obliged to yield to his importunity; and Dorset embarked his troops, and prepared himself for the voyage.
Return of the English.

Mean while, a messenger arrived with orders from Henry, that the troops should remain in Spain; but the soldiers were so discontented with the treatment which they had met with, that they mutinied, and obliged their commanders to set sail for England. Henry was much displeased with the ill success of this enterprize; and it was with difficulty, that Dorset, by explaining the fraudulent intentions of Ferdinand, was at last able to appease him.

THERE happened this summer an action at sea, which brought not any more decisive advantage to the English. Sir Thomas Knevet, master of Horse, was sent to the coast of Britanny with a fleet of forty-five sail; and he carried with him Sir Charles Brandon, Sir John Carew, and many other young courtiers, who longed for an opportunity of displaying their valour. After committing some depredations, a French fleet of thirty-nine sail issued from Brest, under the command of Primauget[*], and began an engagement with the English. Primauget's ship was set on fire, who finding his destruction inevitable, bore down upon the vessel of the English admiral, and grappling with her, resolved to make her share the same fate. The ships of both fleets stood some t me in suspence, as spectators of this dreadful engagement; and all men saw with horror the flames which consumed both vessels, and heard the cries of fury and despair which came from the miserable combatants. At last, the French vessel blew up; and at the same time destroyed the English[†]. The rest of the French fleet made their escape into different harbours.

THE war, which England waged against France, though it brought little advantage to the former kingdom, was of infinite prejudice to the latter; and by obliging Lewis to withdraw his forces for the defence of his own dominions, lost him that superiority, which his arms, in the beginning of the campaign, had attained in Italy. Gaston de Foix, his nephew, a young hero, had been entrusted with the command of the French forces; and in a few months performed such feats of military art and prowess, as were sufficient to render illustrious the whole life of the oldest captain[*]. His carreer finished with the great battle of Ravenna, which, after the most obstinate conflict, he gained over the Spanish and papal armies. He perished the very moment his victory was compleat; and with him perished the fortune of the French arms in Italy. The Swiss, who had rendered themselves extremely formidable by their bands of disciplined infantry, invaded the Milanese with a numerous army, and raised up that inconstant people to a revolt against the dominion of France. Genoa followed the example of that dutchy; and thus Lewis, in a few weeks, entirely lost his Italian conquests, except some garrisons; and Maximilian Sforza, the son of Ludovic, was again re-instated in possession of Milan.

21st of February.

JULIUS discovered extreme joy on the discomfiture of the French; and the more so, that he had been beholden for it to the Swiss, a people, whose councils, he hoped, he should always be able to govern and direct. The pontiff survived this success a very little time;
Leo the tenth.

and in his place was chosen John de Medici, who took the appellation of Leo the tenth, and proved one of the most illustrious princes that ever sat on that throne. Humane, beneficent, generous, affable; the patron of every art, and friend of every virtue[†]; he had a soul no less capable of forming great designs than his predecessor, but was more gentle, pliant, and artful in employing means for the execution of them. By his intrigues, the emperor Maximilian was detached from the French interest; and Henry, notwithstanding his disappointments in the former campaign, was still encouraged to prosecute his warlike measures against Lewis.

A Parliament.

HENRY had summoned a new session of Parliament[‡], and obtained a supply for his enterprize. It was a poll-tax, and imposed different sums, according to the station and riches of the person. A duke payed ten marks, an earl five pounds, a lord four pounds, a knight four marks; every man valued at eight hundred pounds in goods, four marks. An imposition was also granted of two fifteenths and four tenths[§]. With these supplies, joined to the treasure which was left by his father, and which was not yet entirely dissipated, he was enabled to levy a great army, and render himself very formidable to his enemy. The English are said to have been much encouraged in this enterprize, by the arrival of a vessel in the Thames under the papal banner. It carried presents of wine and hams to the King, and all the most eminent courtiers; and such fond devotion was at that time entertained towards the court of Rome, that these trivial presents were every where received with the greatest triumph and exultation.

IN order to prevent all disturbance from Scotland, while the King's arms should be employed on the continent, Dr. West, Dean of Windsor, was dispatched in an embassy to James, the King's brother-in-law; and instructions were given him to accommodate all differences between the kingdoms, as well as discover the intentions of the court of Scotland[*]. Some complaints had already passed on both sides. One Barton, a Scotchman, having suffered some injuries from the Portugueze, for which he could obtain no redress, had procured letters of marque against that nation; but not content with this liberty, he committed depredations upon the English, and much infested the narrow seas[†]. Lord Howard and Sir Edward Howard, admirals, and sons to the earl of Surrey, sailing out against him, fought him in a desperate rencounter, where the pyrate was killed; and they brought his ships into the Thames. As Henry refused all satisfaction for this act of justice, some of the borderers, who wanted but a pretence for depredations, entered England under the command of lord Hume, warden of the marches, and committed great ravages on that kingdom. Notwithstanding these mutual grounds of dissatisfaction, matters might easily have been accommodated, had it not been for Henry's intended invasion of France, which rouzed up the jealousy of the Scotch nation[‡]. The antient league, which subsisted betwixt France and Scotland, was conceived to be the strongest band of connexion; and the Scotch universally believed, that, were it not for the countenance which they received from this foreign alliance, they had never been able so long to maintain their independance against a people so much superior in force and riches.
War with Scotland.

James was farther incited to take part in the quarrel by the invitations of Anne, queen of France, whose knight he had ever in all tournaments profest himself, and who summoned him, according to the ideas of romantic gallantry, prevalent in that age, to take the field in her defence, and prove himself her true and valorous champion. The remonstrances of his consort and of his wisest counsellors, were in vain opposed to the martial ardour of that prince. He first sent a squadron of ships to the assistance of France; the only fleet which Scotland seems ever to have possessed. And though he made profession still to maintain a neutrality, the English ambassador easily foresaw, that a war would prove in the end inevitable, and he gave his master warning of the danger, who sent the earl of Surrey to put the borders in a posture of defence, and to resist the invasion of the enemy.

HENRY, all on fire for military •ame, was little discouraged by this appearance of a diversion from the North; and so much the less, that he flattered himself with the assistance of all the considerable potentates of Europe in his invasion of France. The pope still continued to thunder out his excommunications against Lewis, and all the adherents to the schismatical council: The Swiss cantons made professions of the most violent animosity against France: The ambassadors of Ferdinand and Maximilian had signed with those of Henry a treaty of alliance against that power, and had stipulated the time and place of their intended invasion: And though Ferdinand disavowed his ambassador, and even signed a truce for a twelvemonth with the common enemy; Henry was not yet fully convinced of his selfish and sinister intentions, and still hoped for his concurrence after the expiration of that term. He had now got a minister who complied with all his inclinations, and flattered him in every scheme to which his sanguine and impetuous temper was inclined.

Wolsey minister.

THOMAS WOLSEY, dean of Lincoln, and almoner to the King, surpassed in favour all his ministers and courtiers, and was fast advancing towards that unrivalled grandeur, which he afterwards attained. This man was the son of a butcher at Ipswich; but having got a learned education, and being endowed with an excellent capacity, he was admitted into the marquis of Dorset's family as tutor to that nobleman's children, and soon gained the friendship and countenance of his patron[*]. He was recommended as chaplain to Henry the seventh, and being employed by that monarch in a secret negotiation, which regarded his intended marriage with Margaret of Savoy, Maximilian's daughter, he acquitted himself to the King's satisfaction, and obtained the praise both of diligence and dexterity in his conduct[†]. That prince having given him a commission to the emperor, who at that time resided in Brussels, was surprized, in less than three days after, to see Wolsey present himself before him; and supposing that he had protracted his departure, he began to reprove him for the dilatory execution of his orders. Wolsey informed him, that he was just returned from Brussels, and had successfully fulfilled all his majesty's commands. "But on second thoughts," said the King, "I found that somewhat was omitted in your orders; and have sent a messenger after you with fuller instructions." "I met the messenger," replied Wolsey, "on my return: But as I had reflected on that omission, I ventured of myself to execute what, I knew, must be your majesty's intentions." The death of Henry, soon after this incident, was the reason why Wolsey reaped no advantage from the good opinion, which that monarch had entertained of him: But from that moment he was looked on at court as a rising man; and the bishop of Winchester cast his eye upon him as one, who might be serviceable to him in his present situation[*]. This prelate, observing that the earl of Surrey had totally eclipsed him in favour, resolved to introduce Wolsey into the young prince's familiarity, and hoped, that he might rival Surrey in his insinuating arts, and yet be contented to act in the cabinet a part subordinate to Fox himself, who had promoted him. In a very little time, Wolsey gained so much on Henry's good graces, that he supplanted both Surrey in his favour, and Fox in his trust and confidence. Being admitted to the King's parties of pleasure, he took the lead in every jovial conversation, and promoted all that frolic and entertainment, which he found suitable to the age and inclination of the young monarch. Neither his own years, which were near forty, nor his character of a clergyman, were any restraint upon him, or engaged him to check, by any useless severity, the gaiety, in which Henry, who had small propension to debauchery, passed his careless hours. During the intervals of amusement he introduced business and state affairs, and insinuated those maxims of conduct, which he was desirous his master should adopt. He observed to him, that, while he entrusted his affairs into the hands of his father's counsellors, he had the advantage of employing men of wisdom and experience, but men who owed not their promotion to his favour, and who scarce thought themselves accountable to him for the exercise of their authority: That by the factions, and cabals, and jealousies, which prevailed among them, they more obstructed the advancement of his affairs, than they promoted it by the knowledge which age and practice had conferred upon them: That while he thought proper to pass his time in those pleasures, to which his age and royal fortune invited him, and in those studies, which would in time enable him to sway the scepter with absolute authority, his best system of government would be to intrust his authority into the hands of some one person, who was the creature of his will, and who could entertain no view but of promoting his service: And that if this minister had also the same relish for pleasure with himself, and the same taste for science; he could the more easily account to him for his whole conduct, and introduce his master gradually into the knowledge of public businēss, and thus, without tedious constraint or application, initiate him in the science of government[†].

HENRY entered into all the views of Wolsey; and finding no one so capable of executing this plan of administration as the person who proposed it, he soon advanced his favourite, from being the companion of his careless hours, to be a member of his council; and from being a member of his council, to be his sole and absolute minister.
His character.

By this rapid advancement and uncontrouled authority, the character and genius of Wolsey had full opportunity to display itself. Insatiable in his acquisitions, but still more magnificent in his expence: Of extensive capacity, but still more unbounded enterprize: Ambitious of power, but still more desirous of glory: Insinuating, engaging, persuasive; and, by turns, lofty, elevated, commanding: Haughty to his equals, but affable to his dependants; oppressive to the people, but liberal to his friends; more generous than grateful; less moved by injuries than by contempt; he seemed framed to take the ascendant in every intercourse with others, but exerted this superiority of nature with such ostentation as exposed him to envy, and made every one willing to recal the original inferiority or rather meanness of his fortune.

THE branch of administration, in which Henry most exerted himself, while he gave his entire confidence to Wolsey, was the military, which, as it suited the natural gallantry and bravery of his temper, as well as the ardour of his youth, was the principal object of his attention. Finding, that Lewis had made great preparations both by sea and land to resist him, he was no less careful to raise a formidable army and equip a considerable fleet for the invasion of France. The command of the fleet was entrusted to Sir Edward Howard; who, after scouring the channel some time, presented himself before Brest, where the French navy then lay; and he challenged them to a combat. The French admiral, who expected from the Mediterranean a reinforcement of some Gallies under the command of Prejeant de Bidoux, kept within the harbour, and saw with patience the English burn and destroy the country in the neighbourhood. At last Prejeant arrived with six gallies, and put into Conquet, a place within a few leagues of Brest, where he secured himself behind some batteries, which he had planted on rocks, that lay on each side of him.
25th April.

Howard was notwithstanding determined to make an attack; and as he had but two gallies, he took himself the command of one, and gave the other to Devereux lord Ferrars. He was followed by some row-barges and some crayers under the command of Sir Thomas Cheyney, Sir William Sidney, and other officers of distinction. He immediately fastened on Prejeant's ship, and leaped on board of her, attended with one Carroz, a Spanish cavalier, and seventeen English more. The cable, meanwhile, which fastened his ship to that of the enemy, being cut, the admiral was thus left in the hands of the French; and as he still continued the fight with great gallantry, he was pushed overboard by their pikes[*]. Lord Ferrars, seeing the admiral's galley fall off, followed with the other vessels; and the whole fleet was so discouraged by the loss of their admiral, that they retired from before Brest[†]. The French navy came out of harbour; and even ventured to invade the coast of Sussex. They were repulsed, and Prejeant, their admiral, lost an eye by the shot of an arrow. Lord Howard, brother to the deceased admiral, received the command of the English fleet; and little memorable passed at sea during this summer.

GREAT preparations had been making at land, during the whole winter, for an invasion of France by the way of Calais; but the summer was well advanced before every thing was in sufficient readiness for the intended enterprize. The long peace, which the kingdom had enjoyed, had somewhat unfitted the English for military expeditions; and the great change, which had lately been introduced in the art of war, had rendered it still more difficult to inure them to the use of the weapons now employed in action. The Swiss, and after them the Spaniards, had shown the advantage of a stable infantry, who fought with pike and sword, and were able to repulse even the heavy-armed cavalry, in which the great force of the armies formerly consisted. The practice of fire-arms was become very common; tho' the caliver, which was the weapon now used, was so inconvenient, and attended with so many disadvantages, that it had not entirely discredited the use of bows, a weapon in which the English excelled all European nations. The English archers still maintained their reputation; and even during the present reign, the king's allies had sollicited him for supplies of this kind. The second year after his accession, he sent a thousand archers, under the command of lord Dacres, to the assistance of Ferdinand, his father-in-law, in his projected expedition against the Moors of Barbary; but as that prince turned his arms against the French in Italy, Darcy was sent back without being employed in any service. The King had also sent fifteen hundred archers under the command of Sir Edward Poinings to the assistance of Margaret, dutchess of Savoy, who made use of them with great advantage against the duke of Guelders, the great disturber of the Netherlands. A considerable part of the forces, which Henry now levied for the invasion of France, consisted also of archers; and so soon as affairs were in readiness, the vanguard of the army, amounting to 8000 men, under the command of the earl of Shrewsbury, sailed over to Calais. Shrewsbury was accompanied with the earl of Derby, the lords Fitzwater, Hastings, Cobham, and Sir Rice ap Thomas, captain of the light horse. Another Body of 6000 men soon after followed under the command of lord Herbert, the chamberlain, attended with the earls of Northumberland and Kent, the lords Audley and Delawar, together with Carew, •urson, and other gentlemen.

THE King himself prepared to follow with the main body and rear of the army; and he appointed the queen regent of the kingdom during his absence. That he might secure her administration from all disturbance, he ordered Edmond de la Pole, earl of Suffolk, to be beheaded in the Tower, the nobleman who had been attainted and imprisoned during the late reign. The King was led to commit this act of violence by the dying commands, as is imagined, of his father, who told him, that he never would be free from danger, while a man of so turbulent a disposition as Suffolk was alive. And as his brother, Richard de la Pole, had accepted of a command in the French service, and attempted very foolishly to revive the York faction, and to animate them against Henry, he probably drew more suddenly the King's vengeance on the unhappy Suffolk.

30th of June.

AT last, Henry, attended with the duke of Buckingham and many others of the nobility, arrived in Calais, and entered upon his French expedition, whence he fondly expected so much success and glory[*]. Of all those allies, on whose assistance he so much relied, the Swiss alone fully performed their engagements.
Invasion of France.

Being put in motion by a sum of money sent them by Henry, and incited by their victories obtained in Italy, and by their animosity against France, they were preparing to enter that kingdom with an army of twenty-five thousand men; and no equal force could be opposed to their incursion. Maximilian had received an advance of 120,000 crowns from Henry, and had engaged to reinforce the Swiss with 8000 men, but failed in his engagements. That he might make atonement to the King, he himself appeared in the Low Countries, and joined the English army with some German and Flemish soldiers, who were useful in giving an example of discipline to Henry's new-levied forces. Observing the disposition of the English monarch to be more bent on glory than on interest, he inlisted himself in his service, wore the cross of St. George, and received pay, a hundred crowns day, as one of his subjects and captains. But while he exhibited this extraordinary spectacle, of an emperor of Germany serving under a King of England, he was treated with the highest respect by Henry, and really directed all the operations of the combined army.

BEFORE the arrival of Henry and Maximilian in the camp, the earl of Shrewsbury and lord Herbert had formed the siege of Teroüane, a town situate on the frontiers of Picardy; and they began to attack the place with vigour. Teligini and Crequi commanded in the town, and had a garrison, which exceeded not a thousand men; yet made they such stout resistance as protracted the siege a month; and they found themselves at last more in danger from want of provisions and ammunition than from the assaults of the besiegers. Having conveyed intelligence of their situation to Lewis, who had advanced to Amiens with his army, that prince gave orders to throw relief into the place.
16th August.

Fontrailles appeared at the head of 800 horsemen, each of whom carried a sack of gunpowder behind him, and two quarters of bacon. With this small force he made a sudden and unexpected irruption into the English camp, and surmounting all resistance, advanced▪ to the fossee of the town, where each horseman threw down his burthen. They immediately returned at the gallop, and were so fortunate as again to break thro' the English, and to receive little or no loss, in this dangerous attempt[*].

Battle of Guinegate.

BUT the English had, soon after, full revenge for that insult. Henry had received intelligence of the approach of the French Horse, who had advanced to protect this incursion of Fontrailles; and he ordered some troops to pass the Lis, in order to oppose them. The cavalry of France, tho' they consisted chiefly of gentlemen, who had behaved with great valour in many desperate actions in Italy, were, on sight of the enemy, seized with so unaccountable a panic, that they immediately took to flight, and were pursued by the English. The duke of Longueville, who commanded the French, Bussi d'Amboise, Clermont, Imbercourt, the chevalier Bayard, and many other officers of distinction were taken prisoners[†]. This action, or rather rout, is sometimes called the battle of Guinegate, from the place where it was fought; but more commonly the battle of Spurs, because the French, that day, made more use of their spurs than of their swords or military weapons.

AFTER so considerable an advantage, the King, who was at the head of a compleat army of above 50,000 men, might have made incursions to the gates of Paris, and spread confusion and desolation every where. It gave Lewis great joy, when he heard, that the English, instead of pushing their victory, and attacking the dismayed troops of France, returned to the siege of an inconsiderable place like Teroüane. The governors were obliged soon after to surrender the town; and Henry found his acquisition of so little consequence, tho' gained at the expence of some blood, and what, in his present circumstances, was more important, of much valuable time, that he immediately demolished the fortifications. The anxieties of the French were again renewed with regard to the motions of the English. The Swiss at the same time had entered Burgundy with a very formidable army, and laid siege to Dijon, which was in no condition to resist them. Ferdinand himself, tho' he had made a truce with Lewis, seemed disposed to lay hold of every advantage which fortune should present to him. Scarce ever was the French monarchy in greater danger, or less in a condition to defend itself against those powerful armies, which on every side assailed or threatened it. Even many of the inhabitants of Paris, who believed themselves exposed to the rapacity and violence of the enemy, began to dislodge, without knowing what place could afford them greater safety and protection.

BUT Lewis was extricated from his present difficulties by the manifest blunders of his enemies. The Swiss allowed themselves to be seduced into a negotiation by Tremoüille, governor of Burgundy; and without making enquiry, whether he had any powers to treat, they accepted of the conditions which he offered them. Tremoüille, who knew, that he would be disavowed by his master, stipulated whatever they were pleased to demand; and thought himself happy, at the expence of some payments, and very large promises, to get rid of so formidable an enemy[‡].

THE measures of Henry showed equal ignorance in the art of war with those of the Swiss in negotiation. Tournay was a great and rich city, which, tho' it lay within the frontiers of Flanders, belonged entirely to France, and afforded the troops of that kingdom a passage into the middle of the Netherlands. Maximilian, who was desirous to free his grandson from so troublesome a neighbourhood, advised Henry to lay siege to this place; and the English monarch, not considering that such an acquisition no way advanced his conquests in France, was so imprudent as to follow this interested council. The city of Tournay, by its antient charters, being exempted from the burthen of a garrison, the burghers, even against the remonstrance of their sovereign, strenuously insisted on maintaining this dangerous privilege; and they engaged, by themselves, to make a vigorous defence against the enemy[*]. Their courage failed them when matters came to extremity;
24th September.

and after a few days siege, the place was surrendered to the English. Henry so little regarded its privileges, that he immediately quartered a garrison in it, under the command of Sir Edward Poinings. The bishop of Tournay was lately dead; and as a new bishop was already elected by the chapter, but not installed in his office, the King bestowed the administration of the see on his favourite, Wolsey, and put him in immediate possession of the revenues, which were considerable[†]. Hearing of the retreat of the Swiss, and observing the season to be far advanced, he thought proper to retire into England; and he carried the greatest part of his army with him. Success had attended him in every enterprize; and his youthful mind was much elated with this seeming prosperity; but all men of judgment, comparing the advantages of his situation with his progress, his expences with his acquisitions, were convinced, that this campaign, so much vaunted, was, in reality, both ruinous and inglorious[‡].

THE success, which, during this summer, had attended Henry's arms in the north, was much more decisive. The King of Scotland had summoned out the whole force of his kingdom; and having passed the Tweed with a brave, tho' a tumultuary army of above 50,000 men, he ravaged those parts of Northumberland which lay nearest that river, and employed himself in taking the castles of Norham, Etal, Werke, Ford, and other places of little importance. The lady Ford, a woman of great beauty, being taken prisoner in her castle, was presented to James, and so gained on the affections of that monarch, that he wasted in idle pleasure that critical time, which, during the absence of his enemy, he should have employed in pushing his conquests. His troops, lying in a barren country, where they soon consumed all the provisions, began to be pinched with necessity; and as the authority of the prince was feeble, and military discipline, during that age, extremely relaxed, many of them had stolen from the camp, and retired to their houses. Mean while, the earl of Surrey, having collected a force of 26,000 men, of which 5000 had been sent over from the King's army in France, marched to the defence of the country, and approached the Scotch, who lay on some high ground near the hills of Cheviot. The river Till ran between the armies, and prevented an engagement: Surrey therefore sent a herald to the Scotch camp, challenging them to descend into the plain of Milfield, which lay towards the south; and there, appointing a day for the combat, try their valour on equal ground. As he received no satisfactory answer, he made a feint of marching towards Berwic; as if he intended to enter Scotland, to lay waste the borders, and cut off the provisions of the enemy. The Scotch army, in order to prevent his purpose, put themselves in motion; and having set fire to the huts in which they had quartered, they descended from the hills. Surrey, taking advantage of the smoke, which was blown towards him, and which covered his movements, passed the Till with his artillery and vanguard at the bridge of Twisel, and sent the rest of his army to find a sord farther up the river.

AN engagement was now become inevitable between the 〈◊〉, a•• both sides prepared for it with great tranquility and order[*].
9th September.

Battle of Flouden.

The English divided their army into two lines: Lord Howard led the main body of the •••st line, Sir Edmond Howard the right wing, Sir Marmaduke Constable the left. The earl of Surrey himself commanded the main body of the second line, lord Dacres the right wing, Sir Edward Stanley the left. The Scotch front presented three divisions to the enemy: The middle was led by the King himself: The right by the earl of Huntley, assisted by lord Hume: The left by the earls of Lenox and Argyle. A fourth division under the earl of Bothwel made a body of reserve. Huntley began the battle; and after a sharp conflict, put to flight the left wing of the English, and chaced them off the field: But on returning from the pursuit, he found the whole Scotch army in great disorder. The division under Lenox and Argyle, elated with the success of the other wing, had broke their ranks, and notwithstanding the remonstrances and entreaties of La Motte, the French ambassador, had rushed headlong upon the enemy. Not only Sir Edmond Howard, at the head of his division, received them with great valour; but Dacres, who commanded in the second line, wheeling about during the action, fell upon their rear, and put them to the sword without resistance. The division under the King himself and that under Bothwel, animated by the valour of their leaders, still made head against the English, and throwing themselves into a circle, protracted the action till night separated the combatants. The victory seemed yet uncertain, and the numbers which fell on each side were nearly equal, amounting to above 5000 men: But the morning discovered evidently where the advantage lay. The English had lost only persons of small note; but the flower of the Scotch nobility had fallen in battle, and the King himself, after the most diligent enquiry, could no where be found. In searching the field, the English met with a dead body, which resembled him, and was arrayed in a similar habit; and they put it in a lead coffin and sent it to London. During some time it was kept unburied; because James died under sentence of excommunication, on account of his confederacy with France, and his opposition to the holy see[†]: But upon Henry's application, who pretended that that prince, in the instant before his death, had discovered signs of repentance, absolution was given him, and his body was interred. The Scotch, however, still asserted, that it was not James's body, which was found in the field of battle, but that of one Elphinston, who had been arrayed in arms resembling the King's, in order to divide the attention of the English, and share the danger with his master. It was believed that James had been seen crossing the Tweed at Kelso; and some imagined that he had been killed by the clients of lord Hume, whom that nobleman had instigated to commit so enormous a crime. But the populace entertained the opinion, that he was still alive, and having gone secretly in pilgrimage to the holy land, would soon return, and take possession of the throne. This fond conceit was long entertained in Scotland.

THE King of Soots and most of the chief nobility being killed in the field of Flouden, so this battle was called, a very inviting opportunity was offered to Henry of gaining advantages over that kingdom, perhaps of reducing it to subjection. But he discovered on this occasion a mind truly great and generous. When the queen of Scotland, Margaret, who was created regent during the infancy of her son, applied for peace, he readily granted it; and took compassion of the helpless condition of his sister and nephew. The earl of Surrey, who had gained him so great a victory, he restored to the title of Duke of Norfolk, which had been forfeited by his father, for engaging on the side of Richard the third. His son, lord Howard, was honoured with the title of earl of Surrey. Sir Charles Brandon, his favourite, whom he had before created viscount Lisle, was now raised to the dignity of duke of Suffolk. Wolsey, who was both his favourite and his minister, was created bishop of Lincoln. Lord Herbert obtained the title of earl of Worcester. Sir Edward Stanley, that of lord Monteagle.

THO' peace with Scotland gave Henry security towards the north, and enabled him to prosecute in tranquility his enterprize against France, some other incidents had happened, which more than counterballanced this fortunate event, and served to open his eyes with regard to the rashness of an undertaking, into which his youth and high fortune had betrayed him.

LEWIS, fully sensible of the dangerous situation to which his kingdom had been reduced during the former campaign, was resolved, by every expedient, to prevent the return of like perils, and to break the confederacy of his enemies. The pope was no way disposed to push the French to extremity; and provided they returned not to take possession of Milan, his interest rather led him to preserve the ballance among the contending parties. He accepted therefore of Lewis's offer to renounce the council of Lyons; and he took off the excommunication which his predecessor and himself had denounced against that King and his kingdom. Ferdinand was now fast declining in years, and as he entertained no farther ambition than that of keeping possession of Navarre, which he had subdued by his arms and policy, he readily hearkened to the proposals of Lewis for prolonging the truce another year; and he even showed an inclination of forming a more intimate connexion with that monarch. Lewis had dro•t hints of his intention to marry his second daughter, Renée, either to Charles, prince of Spain, or his brother, Ferdinand, both of them grandchildren to the Spanish monarch; and he declared his resolution of bestowing on her, as her portion, his claim to the dutchy of Milan. Ferdinand not only embraced these schemes with avidity; but also engaged the emperor, Maximilian, in the same views, and procured his consent to a treaty, which opened so inviting a prospect of aggrandizing their common grandchildren.

WHEN Henry was informed of Ferdinand's renewal of the truce with Lewis, he fell into the most violent rage, and loudly complained, that his father-in-law had first, by the highest promises and professions, engaged him in enmity with France, and afterwards, without giving him the least warning, had now again sacrificed his interest to his own selfish purposes, and had left him exposed alone to all the dangers and expences of the war. In proportion to his easy credulity and unsuspecting reliance on Ferdinand, was the vehemence with which he exclaimed against the treatment, which he met with; and he threatened revenge for this egregious treachery and breach of Faith[*]. But he lost all patience when informed of the other negotiation, where Maximilian was also seduced from his alliance, and where proposals had been hearkened to, for the marriage of the prince of Spain with the daughter of France. Charles, during the life-time of the late King, had been affianced to Mary, Henry's second sister; and as the prince now approached the age of puberty, the King had expected the immediate completion of the marriage, and the honourable settlement of a fi••er, for whom he had entertained a very tender affection. Such a complication, therefore, of injuries gave him the highest displeasure, and inspired him with a desire of expressing his disdain towards those who had taken advantage of his youth and inexperience, and had abused his too great facility.

THE duke of Longueville, who had been made prisoner at the battle of Guinegate, and who was still detained in England, was ready to take advantage of all these dispositions of Henry, in order to procure a peace and even an alliance, which he knew to be so passionately desired by his master. He represented to the King, that Anne, queen of France, being lately dead, a door was thereby opened for an affinity, which might tend to the advantage of both kingdoms, and which would serve to terminate honourably all the differences between them: That she had left Lewis no male children; and as he had ever entertained a strong desire of having heirs to the crown, no marriage seemed more suitable to him than that with the princess of England, whose youth and beauty afforded the most flattering hopes in that particular: That tho' the marriage of a princess of sixteen, with a King of fifty three, might seem unsuitable; yet the other advantages, attending the alliance, were more than a sufficient compensation for this inequality: And that Henry, in loosening his connexions with Spain, whence he had never experienced any advantage, would contract a close affinity with Lewis, a prince, who, thro' his whole life, had invariably maintained the character of probity and honour.

AS Henry seemed to hearken to this discourse with very willing ears, Longueville informed his master of the probability, which he discovered, of bringing this matter to a happy conclusion; and he received full powers for negotiating the treaty.
Peace with France.

7th of August.

The articles were easily adjusted between the monarchs. Lewis agreed that Tournay should remain in the hands of the English; that Richard de la Pole should be banished to Metz, there to live on a pension assigned him by Lewis; that Henry should receive payment of a million of crowns, being the arrears due by treaty to his father and himself; and that the princess Mary should bring four hundred thousand crowns as her portion, and enjoy as large a jointure as any queen of France, even the former, who was heiress of Britanny. The two princes also stipulated the succours, with which they should mutually supply each other, in case either of them was attacked by any enemy[*].

9th of October.

IN consequence of this treaty, Mary was sent over to France with a splendid retinue, and Lewis met her at Abbeville, where the espousals were celebrated. He was enchanted with the beauty, grace, and numerous accomplishments of the young princess; and being naturally of an amorous disposition, which his advanced age had not entirely cooled, he was seduced into such a course of gaiety and pleasure, as proved very unsuitable to his declining state of health[†].
1st of January.

He died in less than three months after his marriage, to the infinite regret of his subjects, who, sensible of his tender concern for their welfare, gave him with one voice the honourable appellation of father of his people.

FRANCIS, duke of Angouleme, a youth of one and twenty, who had married Lewis's eldest daughter, succeeded him on the throne; and by his activity, valour, generosity, and other virtues, gave prognostics of a happy and glorious reign. This young monarch had been extremely struck with the charms of the English princess; and even during his predecessor's life-time, had payed her such close attendance, as made some of his friends apprehend that he had entertained views of gallantry towards her. But being warned, that, by indulging himself in this passion, he might readily exclude his own title to the throne, he fo•bore all farther addresses; and even watched the young dowages with a very careful eye during the first months of her widowhood. Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, was at that time in the court of France, the most comely personage of his time, and the most accomplished in all the exercises, which were then thought to be••t a courtier and a soldier. He was Henry's chief favourite; and that monarch had even once entertained thoughts of marrying him to his sister, and had given indulgence to that mutual passion, which took place between them. The queen asked Suffolk, whether he had now the courage, without farther reflection, to espouse her; and she told him, that her brother would more easily forgive him for not asking his consent, than for acting contrary to his orders. Suffolk declined not so inviting an offer; and the marriage was secretly compleated at Paris. Francis, who was pleased with this marriage, as it prevented Henry from forming any powerful alliance by means of his sister[*], interposed his good offices in appealing him: And even Wolsey, having entertained no jealousy of Suffolk, who was content to participate in the King's pleasures, and had no ambition to interpose in state affairs, was active in reconciling the King to his sister and brother-in-law; and he obtained them permission to return to England.

CHAP. II.

Wolsey's administration.—Scotch affairs.—Progress of Francis the first.—Jealousy of Henry.—Tournay delivered to France.—Wolsey appointed legate.—His manner of exercising that office.—Death of the emperor Maximilian.—Charles, King of Spain, chosen emperor.—Interview between Henry and Francis at Calais.—The emperor Charles arrives in England.—Mediation of Henry.—Trial and condemnation of the duke of Buckingham.

Wolsey's administration.

THE numerous enemies, whom Wolsey's sudden elevation, his aspiring character, and his haughty deportment had raised, served only to rivet him faster in Henry's confidence; who placed a pride in supporting the choice, which he had made, and who was incapable of yielding either to the murmurs of the people or the discontents of the great. That artful prelate likewise, well acquanted with the King's imperious temper, concealed from him the absolute ascendant, which he acquired; and while he secretly directed all public councils, he ever pretended a blind submission to the will and authority of his master. By entering into the King's pleasures, he still preserved his affections; by conducting his business, he gratified his indolence; and by his unlimited complaisance in both capacities, he prevented all that jealousy, to which his exorbitant acquisitions, and his splendid, ostentatious train of life should naturally have given birth. The archbishoprick of York falling vacant by the death of Bambrige, Wolsey was promoted to that see, and resigned the bishoprick of Lincoln. Besides enjoying the administration of Tournay, he got possession, at very low leases, of the revenues of Bath, Worcester, and Hereford, bishopricks filled by Italians, who were allowed to reside abroad, and who were glad to compound for this indulgence, by parting with a considerable share of their profits. He held in commendam the abbey of St. Albans, and many other church preferments. He was even allowed to unite with the see of York, first that of Durham, next that of Winchester; and there seemed to be no end of his acquisitions. His advancement in ecclesiastical dignity served him as a pretence for engrossing still more revenues: The pope, observing his great influence over the King, was desirous of engaging him in his interest, and had created him a cardinal. Never churchman, under colour of exacting regard to religion, carried to a more exorbitant height, the state and dignity of that character. His train consisted of eight hundred servants, of whom many were knights and gentlemen: Some even of the nobility put their children into his family as a place of education; and in order to ingratiate them with their patron, allowed them to bear offices as his servants. Whoever was distinguished by any art or science payed court to the cardinal; and none payed court in vain. Literature, which was then in its infancy, found in him a generous patron; and both by his public institutions and private bounty, he gave encouragement to every branch of erudition[*]. Not content with this munificence, which gained him the approbation of the wise, he strove to dazzle the eyes of the populace, by the splendour of his equipage and furniture, the costly embroidery of his liveries, the lustre of his apparel. He was the first clergyman in England who wore silk and gold, not only on his habit, but also on his saddles and the trappings of his horses[†]. He caused his cardinal's hat to be borne aloft by a person of rank; and when he came to the King's chapel, would permit it to be laid on no place but the altar. A priest, the tallest and most comely he could find, carried before him a pillar of silver, on whose top was placed a cross: But not content with this parade, to which he thought himself intitled as cardinal, he provided another priest of equal stature and beauty, who marched along, bearing the cross of York, even in the diocese of Canterbury; contrary to the antient rule and agreement between the prelates of these rival sees.[*]. The people made merry with the cardinal's ostentation; and said they were now sensible, that one cross alone was not sufficient for the expiation of his sins and offences.

WARHAM, chancellor and archbishop of Canterbury, a man of a very moderate temper, averse to all dispute, chose rather to retire from public employment, than maintain an unequal contest with the haughty cardinal. He resigned his office of chancellor; and the seals were immediately intrusted to Wolsey. If this new accumulation of dignity encreased his enemies, it also served to exalt his personal character, and prove the extent of his capacity. A strict administration of justice took place during his enjoyment of this high office; and no chancellor ever discovered greater impartiality in his decisions, deeper penetration of judgment, or more enlarged knowledge of law and equity[†].

THE duke of Norfolk, finding the King's money almost all exhausted by projects and pleasures, while his inclination for expence still continued, was glad to resign his office of treasurer, and retire from court. His rival, Fox, bishop of Winchester, profited not by his absence; but partly overcome by years and infirmities, partly disgusted at the ascendant acquired by Wolsey, withdrew himself entirely to the care of his diocese. The duke of Suffolk had also taken offence, that the King, by the cardinal's perswasion, had refused to pay a debt, which he had contracted during his abode in France; and he thenceforth affected to live in privacy. These incidents left Wolsey to enjoy without a rival the whole power and favour of the King; and put into his hands every species of authority. In vain, did Fox, before his retirement, warn the King "not to suffer the servant to be greater than his master:" Henry replied, "that he knew well how to retain all his subjects in obedience;" but he continued still an unlimited deference in every thing to the directions and counsels of the cardinal.

THE public tranquillity was so well established in England, the obedience of the people so entire, the general administration of justice, by the cardinal's means[‡], so exact, that no domestic occurrence happened so remarkable as to disturb the repose of the King and his minister: They might even have dispensed with themselves from giving any strict attention to foreign affairs, were it possible for men to enjoy any situation in absolute tranquillity, or abstain from projects and enterprizes, however fruitless and unnecessary.

Scotch affairs.

THE will of the late King of Scotland, who left his widow regent of the Kingdom, and the vote of the convention of Estates, which confirmed that destination, had expressly limited her authority to the condition of her remaining unmarried[*]: But notwithstanding this limitation, a few months after her husband's death, she espoused the earl of Angus, of the name of Douglas, a nobleman of great family and very promising hopes. Some of the nobility now proposed the election of Angus as regent, and recommended this choice as the most likely means of preserving peace with England: But the jealousy of the great families, and the fear of exalting the Douglasses, begot opposition to this measure. Lord Hume in particular, the most powerful chieftain in the kingdom, insisted on recalling the duke of Albany, son to a brother of James the third, who had been banished into France, and who, having there married, had lest posterity, that were the next heirs to the crown, and the nearest relations to their young sovereign. Albany, though first prince of the blood, had never been in Scotland, was totally unacquainted with the manners of the people, ignorant of their situation, unpracticed in their language; yet such was the favour attending the French alliance, and so great the authority of Hume, that this prince was invited to accept the reins of government. Francis, careful not to give offence to the King of England, detained Albany some time in France; but at last, sensible how important it was to keep Scotland in his interests, he permitted him to go over, and take possession of the regency: He even renewed the antient league with that kingdom, tho' it implied such a close connexion, as might be thought somewhat to infringe his alliance with England.

WHEN the regent arrived in Scotland, he made enquiries concerning the state of the country, and character of the people; and discovered a scene, with which he was hitherto but little acquainted. That turbulent kingdom, he found, was rather to be considered as a confederacy, and that not a close one, of petty princes, than a regular system of civil polity; and even the King, much more the regent, possest an authority very uncertain and precarious. Arms, more than laws, prevailed; and courage, preserably to equity or justice, was the virtue most valued and respected. The nobility, in whom the whole power resided, were so connected by hereditary alliances, or so divided by inveterate enmiti•s, that it was impossible, without employing force, either to punish the most •••grant guilt, or give security to the most entire innocence. Rapine and violence, when exercised on a hostile tribe, instead of making a person▪ odious among hi• own clan, rather recommended him to esteem and approbation, and by rendering him useful to the chieftain, entitled him to a preference above his fellows. And tho' the necessity of mutual support served as a close cement of friendship among those of the same kindred, the spirit of revenge against enemies, and the desire of pros•∣cuting the deadly feuds, (so they were called) still appeared to be passions the most predominant among that uncultivated people.

THE persons, to whom Albany first applied for information with regard to the state of the country, happened to be inveterate enemies of Hume[*]; and they represented that powerful nobleman as the chief source of public disorders, and the great obstacle to the execution of the laws, and administration of justice. Before the authority of the magistrate could be established, it was necessary, they said, to make an example of this great offender; and by the terror of his punishment, teach all lesser criminals to pay respect to the power of their sovereign. Albany, moved by these reasons, was induced to forget Hume's past services, to which he had been, in a great measure, beholden for the regency; and he no longer bore towards him that favourable countenance, with which he was wont to receive him. Hume perceived the change, and was incited, both by views of his own security and his revenge, to take measures in opposition to the regent. He applied himself to Angus and the queen dowager, and represented to them the danger to which the infant prince was exposed, from the ambition of Albany, the next heir to the crown, to whom the states had imprudently entrusted the whole authority of government. By his perswasion, she formed the design of carrying off the young King, and putting him under the protection of her brother; and when that conspiracy was discovered, she herself, accompanied with Hume and Angus, withdrew into England, where she was soon after delivered of a daughter.

HENRY, in order to check the authority of Albany and the French party, gave encouragement to these malecontents, and assured them of his protection. Matters being afterwards in appearance accommodated between Hume and the regent, that nobleman returned into his own country; but mutual suspicions and jealousies still prevailed. He was committed to custody, under the care of the earl of Arran, his brother-in-law; and was, for some time, detained prisoner in his castle. But having perswaded Arran to enter into the conspiracy with him, he was allowed to make his escape; and he openly made war upon the regent. A new accommodation ensued, no more sincere than the foregoing; and Hume was so imprudent as to put himself, together with his brother, into the hands of the regent. They were immediately seized, committed to custody, brought to their •••al, condemned, and executed. No legal crime was proved against these brothers: It was only alleged, that, at the battle of Flouden, they had not done their duty in supporting the King; and as this backwardness could not, from the whole course of their past life, be ascribed to cowardice, it was commonly imputed to a more criminal motive. The evidences, however, of guilt produced against them, were far from being valid or convincing; and the people, who hated them while alive, were very much dissatisfied with their execution.

SUCH violent remedies often produce, for some time, a deceitful tranquillity; but as they destroy mutual confidence, and beget the most inveterate animosities, their consequences are commonly very satal both to the public, and to those who make trial of them. The regent, however, took advantage of the present calm which prevailed; and being invited by the French king, who was, at that time, willing to gratify Henry, he went over into France; and was detained there during five years. A great part of his authority he entrusted into the hands of Darcy, a Frenchman, whom he created warden of the marches, and who was extremely vigilant in the distribution of justice, and the punishment of crimes and oppression. But Sir David Hume, a kinsman of the nobleman lately executed, desirous of revenging his friend's death on the friend of the regent, way-laid Darcy near Dunse; and after reproaching him with that execution, made an attack upon him. Darcy finding himself too weak to resist, and trusting to the swiftness of his horse, fled towards Dunbar; but being ignorant of the roads, he ran into a bog, was overtaken by the pursuers, and put to death. As he wore long flowing hair, Hume, exulting in this assassination as a gallant exploit, cut out these locks, and pleating them into a wreath, wore them ever after at the pummel of his saddle[*]. During the absence of the regent, such confusions prevailed in Scotland, and such mutual enmity, rapine, and violence, among the great families, that that kingdom was, for a long time, utterly disabled both from offending its enemies, and assisting its friends. We have carried on the Scotch history some years b•yond the present period; that as that country had little connexion with the general system of Europe, we might be the less interrupted in the narration of those memorable events, which were there transacted.

IT was soreseen, that a young, active prince, like Francis, and of so m•rtial a disposition, would not suffer to lie useless the great preparations, which his predecessor, before his death, had made for the conquest of Milan. He had been observed even to weep at the recital of the military exploits of G•ston de Foix; and these tears of emulation were held to be sure prognostics of his future valour. He renewed the treaty which Lewis had made with Henry; and having left every thing, as he thought, secure behind him, he marched his armies towards the south of France; pretending, that his sole purpose was to secure his kingdom against the incursions of the Swiss. That formidable people still retained their animosity against France; and having taken Maximilian, duke of Milan, under their protection, and indeed reduced him to absolute dependance, they were determined, from views both of honour and interest, to defend him against his invader[‡]. They fortified themselves with numerous forces in all those vallies of the Alps, thro' which, they thought, the French must necessarily pass;
Progress of Francis the first.

and when Francis, with great secrecy, industry, and perseverance, made his entrance into Piemont by another passage, they were not dismayed, but descended into the plain, tho' unprovided of cavalry, and opposed themselves to the progress of the French arms.
13th September.

At Marignan near Milan, they fought with Francis one of the most furious and best contested battles, which is to be met with in the history of these latter ages; and it required all the heroic valour of that prince to inspire his troops with courage sufficient to resist the desperate assault of those mountainers. After a bloody action in the evening, night and darkness parted the combatants; but next morning, the Swiss renewed the attack with equal alacrity; and it was not till they had lost all their bravest troops that they could be prevailed with to retire. The field was strowed with twenty thousand slain of both sides; and the mareschal Trivulzio, who had been present at eighteen pitched battles, declared that every engagement, which he had yet seen, was only the play of children, but that the action of Marignan was a combat of heroes[*].

AFTER this great victory, the conquest of the Milaneze was easy and open. Francis, sensible how important the alliance of the cantons was, even in their lowest fortune, gave them all the conditions, which they could have demanded, had they been ever so successful; and he courted their friendship by every possible condescension. The Venetians were in alliance with France; and as they trusted entirely to the successes of that crown for the final recovery of their dominions on the continent, they seconded Francis in every enterprize. Pope Leo, whose sole fault was too great finesse and artifice, a fault, which, both as a priest and an Italian, it was difficult for him to avoid, had hitherto temporized between the parties; and Francis's victory at Marignan determined him absolutely to embrace the friendship of that monarch[†]. But what both facilitated most, and secured the conquest of the Milaneze, was the resolution of Maximilian Sforza himself, who, tired of the vicissitudes of his fortune, disgusted with the tyranny of the Swiss, and desirous of privacy and repose, put himself into Francis's hands; and having stipulated a yearly pension of thirty thousand ducats, resigned all pretensions to that dutchy, and retired into France.

Jealousy of Henry.

THE success and glory of the French monarch began to excite jealousy in Henry; and his rapid progress, tho' in so distant a country, was not regarded without apprehensions by the English ministry. Italy was during that age the seat of religion, of literature, and of commerce; and as it possessed alone that lustre, which has since been shared among other nations, it fixed the attention of all Europe, and every acquisition which was made there, appeared more important than its weight in the ballance of power should, strictly speaking, have demanded. Henry also thought, that he had reason to complain of Franc•s for sending the duke of Albany into Scotland, and undermining the power and credit of his sister, the queen dowager[‡]. The repairing the fortifications of Teroüenne was also regarded as a breach of treaty. But above all, what tended to alienate the court of England, was the disgust which Wolsey had taken against the French monarch.

HENRY, on the conquest of Tournay, had refused to admit Lewis Gaillart, the bishop elect, to the possession of the temporalities, because that prelate declined taking the oath of allegiance to his new sovereign; and Wolsey was appointed, in his room, administrator of the bishoprick. As the cardinal wished to obtain free and undisturbed possession, he applied to Francis, and desired him to bestow on Gaillart some see of equal value in France, and to obtain his resignation of Tournay. Francis, who still hoped to recover possession of that city, and who feared that the full settlement of Wolsey in the bishopric would prove an obstacle to his purpose, had hitherto neglected to gratify the haughty prelate; and the bishop of Tournay, by applying to the court of Rome, had obtained a bull for his settlement in that see. Wolsey, who expected to be complied with in every request, and who exacted respect even from the greatest monarchs, resented the slight put upon him by Francis; and he pushed his master to seek an occasion for wreaking his vengeance against that monarch[*].

MAXIMILIAN the emperor was ready to embrace every proposal of a new enterprize, especially if attended with an offer of money, of which he was extremely greedy, extremely prodigal, and extremely necessitous. Richard Pace, formerly secretary to cardinal Bambrige, now secretary of state, was dispatched to the court of Vienna, and had a commission to propose some considerable payments to Maximilian[†]: He thence made a journey into Switzerland; and by like motives engaged some of the cantons to furnish troops to the emperor. That prince invaded Italy with a considerable army; but being repulsed from before Milan, he retreated with his army into Germany, made peace with France and Venice, delivered Verona to that republic for a sum of money, and thus excluded himself, in some measure, from all future access into Italy. And Henry found, that, after expending five or six hundred thousand ducats, in order to gratify the cardinal's resentment, he had only loosened his alliance with Francis, without diminishing the power of that prince.

THERE were many reasons, which engaged the King not to proceed farther at present in his enmity against France. He could hope for assistance from no power in Europe. Ferdinand, his father in law, who had often deceived him, was now declining fast from age and infirmities; and a speedy end was looked for to the long and prosperous reign of that great monarch. Charles, prince of Spain, sovereign of the Low Countries, desired nothing but peace with Francis, who had it so much in his power, if provoked, to obstruct his peaceable accession to that rich inheritance, which was waiting him. The pope was overawed by the power of France, and Venice was engaged in a close alliance with that monarchy[‡]. Henry therefore remained in tranquillity during some time; and seemed to give himself no concern with regard to the affairs of the continent. In vain did Maximilian endeavour to allure him into some expence, by offering to make a resignation of the imperial crown in his favour. That artifice was too gross to succeed even with a prince so little political as Henry; and Pace, his envoy, who was perfectly well acquainted with the emperors motives and character, gave him warning, that the sole view of that prince in making him so liberal an offer, was to draw money from him.

15th January.

WHILE an universal peace prevailed in Europe, that event happened, which had so long been looked for, and from which such important consequences were expected, the death of Ferdinand, the catholic, and the succession of his grandson, Charles, to his extensive dominions. No commotion, however, or alteration followed immediately upon that great incident. This young prince, who had not yet reached his sixteenth year, was already a great statesman, from the excellent education which he had received, and from the mature and solid judgment, with which nature had endowed him. He was sensible how important it was to preserve peace with foreigners, till he should have established his authority in his new dominions; and finding Francis desirous to take advantage of his present situation, he made him an offer of such terms as gained the friendship and alliance of that monarch. He engaged to marry Francis's daughter, tho' only an infant of a year old; to receive as her dowry all her father's pretensions on the kingdom of Naples; to pay him a hundred thousand crowns a year, till the consummation of the marriage; and to give the King of Navarre satisfaction with regard to his dominions[*]. Charles, having finished this treaty at Noyon by his ministers, and having thus left every thing in security in the Low Countries, departed for Spain, and was willingly received to the government of these united kingdoms. The right of succession lay in his mother, Joan, who was still alive; but as she was usually disordered in her judgment, Ferdinand had left the administration to his grandson, Charles; and the states, both of Castile and Arragon, gave their consent to this destination.

THE more Charles advanced in power and authority, the more was Francis sensible of the necessity he lay under of gaining the confidence and friendship of Henry; and he took at last the only method by which he could obtain success, the paying court, by presents and flattery, to the haughty cardinal.

BONNIVET, admiral of France, was dispatched to London, and he was directed to employ all his insinuation and address, qualities for which he was remarkable, to procure himself a place in Wolsey's good graces. After the ambassador had succeeded in his purpose, he took an opportunity of expressing his master's regret, that, by mistakes and misapprehensions, he had been so unfortunate as to lose a friendship, which he so much valued as that of his eminence. Wolsey was not deaf to these honourable advances from so great a monarch; and he was thenceforth observed to express himself, on all occasions, in favour of the French alliance. The more to engage him in his interests, Francis entered into such confidence with him, that he asked his advice even in his most secret affairs, and on all difficult emergencies had recourse to him as to an oracle of wisdom and profound policy. The cardinal made no secret to the King of this private correspondence; and Henry was so prepossessed in favour of the great capacity of his minister, that, he said, he verily believed he would govern Francis as well as himself[‡].

WHEN matters seemed sufficiently prepared, Bonnivet opened to the cardinal his master's desire of recovering Tournay; and Wolsey immediately, without hesitation, engaged to effectuate his purpose. He took an opportunity of representing to the King and council, that Tournay lay so remote from Calais, that it would be very difficult, if not impossible, in case of a war, to keep the communication open between those two places: That as it was situate on the frontiers both of France and the Netherlands, it was exposed to the attacks of both these powers, and must necessarily, either by force or famine, fall into the hands of the first assailant: That even in time of peace, it could not be preserved without a large garrison, to restrain the numerous and mutinous inhabitants, ever discontented with the English government: And that the possession of Tournay, as it was thus precarious and expensive, so was it entirely useless, and gave little or no access to annoy, on occasion, the dominions either of Charles or of Francis.

THESE reasons were of themselves very convincing, and were sure of meeting with no opposition, when they came from the mouth of the cardinal.
Tournay delivered to France.

A treaty therefore was entered into for the delivering up of Tournay; and in order to give to that measure a more graceful appearance, it was agreed, that the Dauphin and the princess Mary, both of them infants, should be betrothed, and that this city should be considered as the dowry of the princess. Such kinds of agreement were then common among sovereigns, tho' it was very rare, that the interests and views of the parties continued so steady as to render the intended marriages effectual. But as Henry had been at considerable expence in building a citadel at Tournay, Francis agreed to pay him 600,000 crowns at twelve yearly payments, and to put into his hands eight hostages, all of them men of quality, for the performance of the article[*]. And lest the cardinal should think himself neglected in these stipulations, he promised him a yearly pension of twelve thousand livres, as an equivalent for his administration of the bishopric of Tournay. He also engaged to recall Albany from Scotland.

FRANCIS having succeeded so well in this negotiation, began to enlarge his views, and to hope for more considerable advantages, by practising on the vanity and self conceit of this haughty favourite. He redoubled his flatteries to the cardinal, consulted him more frequently in every doubt or difficulty, called him in each letter, father, tutor, governor, and professed the most unbounded deference to his advice and opinion. All those caresses were preparatives to a negotiation for the delivery of Calais, in consideration of a sum of money to be paid for it; and if we may credit Polydore Virgil, who bears a particular spite to Wolsey, on account of his being dispossessed of his employment and thrown into prison by that minister, so extravagant a proposal met with a very favourable reception from the cardinal. He ventured not, however, to lay the matter before the council: He was contented to sound privately the opinions of men, by dropping hints in conversation, as if he thought Calais a useless burthen to the kingdom[†]: But when he found, that all men were strongly riveted in a contrary perswasion, he thought it dangerous to proceed any farther in his purpose; and falling, soon after, into new attachments with the King of Spain, the great friendship between Francis and him began gradually to decline.

Wolsey appointed legate.

THE enormous pride of Wolsey was now farther encreased by a great accession of dignity and power which he had received. Cardinal Campeggio had been sent as legate into England, in order to procure a tythe from the clergy, for enabling the pope to oppose the progress of the Turks; a danger which was real, and was formidable to all christendom, but which had been so often made use of to serve the interested purposes of the court of Rome, that it had lost all influence on the minds of the people. The Clergy refused to comply with Leo's demand: Campeggio was recalled; and the King desired of the pope, that Wolsey, who had been joined in this commission, might alone be invested with the legantine power, together with the right of visiting all the clergy and monasteries, and even with suspending the whole laws of the church during a twelve month. Wolsey, having obtained this new dignity, made a new display of that state and parade, to which he was so much addicted. On solemn feast-days, he was not contented without saying mass after the manner of the pope himself: Not only he had bishops and abbots to serve him; he even engaged the first nobility to give him water and the towel. He affected a rank superior to what had ever been claimed by any churchman in England. Warham, the primate, having wrote him a letter, where he subscribed himself, your loving brother, Wolsey complained of his presumption, in thus challenging an equality with him. When Warham was told what offence he had given, he made light of the matter. "Know ye not," he said, "that this man is drunk with too much prosperity."

His manner of
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that office. BUT Wolsey carried the matter much farther than vain pomp and ostentation. He erected an office, which he called the legantine court; and as he was now, by means of the pope's commission and the King's favour, invested with all power, both ecclesiastical and civil, no man knew what bounds were to be set to the authority of this new tribunal. He conferred on it a species of inquisitorial and censorial powers even over the laiety, and directed it to examine into all matters of conscience; into all conduct which had given scandal; into all actions, which, though they escaped the law, might appear contrary to good morals. Offence was justly taken at this commission, which was really unbounded; and the people were the more disg••ted, when they saw a man, who ind••ged himself in the licences of pleasure, so severe in repressing the least appearance of immorality in others. But to render his court more obnoxious, Wolsey made one John Allen the judge in it, a person of scandalous life[*], whom he himself, as chancellor, had condemned for perjury: And as this man either exacted fines from every one whom he was pleased to find guilty, or took bribes to drop prosecutions, men concluded, and with some appearance of reason, that he shared with the cardinal these wages of iniquity. The clergy, and in particular the monks, were exposed to this tyranny; and as the libertinism of their lives often gave a just handle against them, they were obliged to buy an indemnity, by paying large sums of money to the legate or his judge. Not contented with this authority, Wolsey pretended, by virtue of his commission, to assume the power of all the bishops courts; particularly that of judging of Wills and Testaments; and his decisions in these important points were esteemed not a little arbitrary. As if he himself were pope, and as if the pope could dispose absolutely of every ecclesiastical establishment, he presented to whatever priories or benefices he pleased, without regard to the right of election in the monks, or of patronage in the nobility and gentry[†].

NO one durst carry to the King any complaint against these usurpations of Wolsey, till Warham ventured to inform him of the discontents of his people. Henry professed his ignorance of the whole matter. "A man," said he, "is not so blind any where as in his own house: But do you, father," added he to the primate, "go to Wolsey, and tell him, if any thing be amiss, that he amend it." A reproof of this kind was not likely to be effectual: It only served to augment Wolsey's enmity to Warham: But one London having prosecuted Allen, the legate's judge, in a court of law, and convicted him of malversation and iniquity, the clamour at last reached the King's ears, and he expressed such displeasure to the cardinal as made him ever after more cautious in exerting his authority[‡].

WHILE Henry, indulging himself in pleasure and amusement, entrusted the government of his kingdom to this imperious minister, an incident happened abroad, which excited his attention.
12th of January.

Death of the emperor Maximilian.

Maximilian the emperor died, a man, who, of himself, was indeed of little consequence; but as his death left vacant the first station among christian princes, it put all men's spirits into agitation, and proved a kind of aera in the general system of Europe. The Kings of France and Spain immediately declared themselves candidates for the imperial throne; and employed every expedient of money or intrigue, which promised them success in so great a point of ambition. Henry also was encouraged to put in his pretensions; but his minister, Pace, who was dispatched to the electors, found that he began to sollicit too late, and that the votes of all these princes were already pre engaged either on the one side or the other.

FRANCIS and Charles made profession from the beginning of carrying on this rivalship with emulation, but without enmity; and Francis in particular declared, that his brother Charles and he were, fairly and openly, suitors to the same mistress: The more fortunate, added he, will carry her; and the other must rest contented[*]. But all men apprehended, that this extreme moderation, however reasonable, would not be of long duration; and that incidents would certainly occur to sharpen the minds of the candidates against each other.
Charles, King of Spain, chosen emperor.

It was Charles who at last prevailed, to the great disappointment of the French monarch, who still continued in the belief, that the majority of the electoral college was engaged in his favour. And as he was some years superior in age to his rival, and, after his victory at Marignan, and conquest of the Milanese, much superior in renown, he could not suppress his indignation, at being thus, in the face of all mankind, after long and anxious expectation, post-poned in so important a pretension. From this concurrence, as much as from opposition of interest, arose that emulation between those two great monarchs, which, while it kept their whole age in agitation, sets them in so remarkable a contrast to each other: Both of them princes endowed with talents and abilities; brave, aspiring, active, industrious; beloved by their servants and subjects, dreaded by their enemies, and respected by all the world: Francis, open, frank, liberal, munificent, carrying these virtues to an excess which prejudiced his affairs: Charles, political, close, artificial, frugal; better calculated to obtain success in wa•s and in negotiations, especially the latter. The one, the more amiable man; the other, the greater monarch. The King, from his oversights and indiscretions, naturally exposed to misfortunes; but qualified, by his spirit and magnanimity, to extricate himself from them with honour: The emperor, by his designing, interested character, fitted, in his greatest successes to excite jealousy and opposition even among his allies, and to rouze up a multitude of enemies, in the place of one whom he had subdued. And as the personal qualities of these princes thus counterpoised each other, so did the advantages and disadvantages of their dominions. Fortune alone, without the concurrence of prudence or valour, never reared up of a sudden so great a power as that which centered in the emperor Charles. He reaped the succession of Castile, of Arragon, of Austria, of Burgundy: He inherited the conquest of Naples, of Granada: Election entitled him to the empire: Even the bounds of the globe seemed to be enlarged a little before his time, that he might possess the whole treasures, as yet entire and unrifled, of the new world. But tho' the concurrence of all these advantages formed an empire greater and more extensive than any known in Europe since that of the Romans, the kingdom of France alone, being close, compact, united, rich, populous, and being interposed between all the provinces of Charles's dominions, was able to make a vigorous opposition to his progress, and maintain the contest against him.

HENRY possessed that felicity, of being able, both by the native force of his kingdom and its situation, to hold the ballance between those two powers; and had he known to improve, by policy and prudence, this singular and inestimable advantage, he was really, by means of it, a greater prince than either of those mighty monarchs, who seemed to strive for the dominion of Europe. But the character of this King was heedless, inconsiderate, capricious, impolitic; guided by his passion or his favourite; vain, imperious, haughty; sometimes actuated by friendship for foreign powers, oftener by resentment, seldom by his true interest. And thus, tho' he triumphed in that superiority which his situation in Europe gave him, he never employed it to the essential and durable advantage of his kingdom or his own.

Interview between Henry and Francis at Calais.

FRANCIS was well acquainted with Henry's character, and endeavoured to accommodate his conduct to it. He sollicited an interview near Calais; in expectation of being able, by familiar conversation, to gain upon his friendship and confidence. Wolsey earnestly seconded this proposal; and hoped, in the presence of both courts, to make parade of his riches, his splendour, and his influence over both monarchs[*]. And as Henry himself loved pomp and magnificence, and had entertained a curiosity of being personally acquainted with the French King, he very chearfully adjusted all the preliminaries of this interview. The nobility of both nations strove to surpass each other in pomp and expence: Many of them involved themselves in large debts, and were not able, by the penury of their whole lives, to repair the vain splendour of a few days. The duke of Buckingham, who, tho' immensely rich, was somewhat addicted to frugality, finding the preparations for this festival amount to immense sums, threw out some expressions of displeasure against the cardinal, whom he believed the author of that measure[†]. An imprudence which proved afterwards to Buckingham the source of great misfortunes.

The emperor Charles arrives in England.

25th of May.

WHILE Henry was preparing to depart for Calais, he was surprized to hear that the emperor was arrived at Dover; and he immediately hastened thither with the queen, in order to give a suitable reception to his royal guest. That great prince, politic tho' young, having heard of the intended interview between Francis and Henry, was apprehensive of the consequences, and was resolved to take the opportunity, in his passage from Spain to the Low Countries, to make the King still a higher compliment, by paying him a visit in his own dominions. Besides the marks of regard and attachment which he gave to Henry, he strove, by every testimony of friendship, by flatteries, protestations, promises and presents, to gain on the vanity, the avarice, and the ambition of the cardinal. He here instilled into this aspiring prelate the hope of attaining the papacy; and as that was the sole point of elevation, beyond his present greatness, it was sure to attract his wishes with the same ardour, as if fortune had never, as yet, favoured him with any of her presents. In hopes of reaching this dignity by the emperor's assistance, he secretly devoted himself to that monarch's interests; and Charles was perhaps the more liberal of his promises, that Leo was a very young man; and it was not likely, that, for many years, he would be called upon to fulfil his engagements. Henry easily observed this courtship payed to his minister; but instead of taking umbrage at it, he only made it a subject of vanity; and believed, that, as Wolsey's sole support was his favour, the obeisance of such mighty monarchs to his servant, was in reality a more conspicuous homage to his own grandeur.

30th of May.

THE day of Charles's departure, Henry went over to Calais with the queen and his whole court; and from thence proceeded to Guisnes, a small town near the frontiers. Francis, attended in like manner, came to Andres, a few miles distant; and the two monarchs met, for the first time, in the fields, at a place situate between these two towns, but still within the English pale: For Francis agreed to pay that compliment to Henry, in consideration of that prince's passing the sea, that he might be present at the interview. Wolsey, to whom both Kings had entrusted the regulation of the ceremonial, contrived this circumstance, in order to do honour to his master.

THE two monarchs, after saluting each other in the most cordial manner, retired into a sent which had been erected on purpose, and they held a secret conference together. Henry here proposed to make some amendments on the articles of their former alliance; and he began to read the treaty, I Henry King: These were the first words; and he stopt a moment. He subjoined only the words, of England, without adding, France, the usual of the English monarchs[*]. Francis remarked this delicacy, and expressed by a smile his approbation of it.

HE took an opportunity soon after of paying a compliment to Henry of a more essential nature. That generous prince, full of honour himself, and incapable of distrusting others, was shocked at all the precautions which were observed, whenever he had an interview with the English monarch: The number of their guards and attendants was carefully counted on both sides: Every step was scrupulously measured and adjusted: And if the two Kings proposed to pay a visit to the queens, they departed from their several quarters at the same instant, which was marked by the firing of a culverin; they passed each other in the middle point between the places; and at the same instant that Henry entered Ardres, Francis put himself into the hands of the English at Guisnes. In order to break off this tedious ceremony, which contained so many dishonourable implications, Francis, one day, took with him two gentlemen and a page, and rode directly into Guisnes. The guards were surprized at the presence of the monarch, who called aloud to them, You are all my prisoners: Carry me to your master. Henry was equally astonished at the appearance of Francis; and taking him in his arms, "My brother," said he, "you have here played me the most agreeable trick in the world, and have showed me the full confidence I may place in you: I surrender myself your prisoner from this moment." He took from his neck a collar of pearls, worth 15000 angels[†]; and putting it about Francis's, begged him to wear it, for the sake of his prisoner. Francis agreed, but on condition that Henry should wear a bracelet, of which he made him a present, and which was double in value to the collar[‡]. The King went next day to Ardres, without guards or attendants; and confidence being now fully established between the monarchs, they employed the rest of the time entirely in tournaments and festivals.

A DEFIANCE had been sent by the two Kings to each others court, and thro' all the chief cities of Europe, importing, that Henry and Francis, with fourteen aids, would be ready, in the plains of Picardy, to answer all comers, that were gentlemen, at tilt, tourney, and barriers. The monarchs, in order to fulfil this challenge, advanced into the field on horseback, Francis surrounded with Henry's guards, and Henry with those of Francis. They were gorgiously apparelled; and were both of them the most comely personages of the age, as well as the most expert in every military exercise. They carried away the prize at all trials in those rough and dangerous pastimes; and several horses and riders were overthrown by their vigour and dexterity. The ladies were the judges in these seats of chivalry, and put an end to the rencounter whenever they judged it expedient. Henry erected a spacious house of wood and canvas, which had been framed in London; and he here feasted the French monarch. He had placed a motto on this fabric, under the figure of an English archer embroidered on it, Cui adhaereo praeest. He prevails whom I favour [*]: Expressing his own situation, as holding in his hands the ballance of power among the potentates of Europe.
24th of June.

In these entertainments, more than in any serious business, did the two Kings pass the time, till their departure.

HENRY, after his return to Calais, paid a visit to the emperor and Margaret of Savoy at Gravelines, and engaged them to go along with him to Calais, and pass some days in that fortress. The artful and politic Charles here compleated the impression, which he had begun to make on Henry and his favourite, and effaced all the friendship, to which the frank and liberal nature of Francis had given birth. As the house of Austria began sensibly to take the ascendant over the French monarchy, the interests of England required that some support should be given to the latter, and above all, that any important wars should be prevented, which might bestow on either of them a decisive superiority over the other. But the jealousy of the English against France has ever prevented a cordial union between these nations: And Charles, sensible of this hereditary animosity, and desirous farther to flatter Henry's vanity, had made him an offer, (an offer in which Francis was afterwards obliged to concur) that he should be entire arbiter in any dispute or difference that should arise between the monarchs. But the great masterpiece of Charles's politics was the securing Wolsey in his interests, by very important services, and still higher promises. He renewed assurances of assisting him in obtaining the papacy; and he put him in present possession of the revenues, belonging to the sees of Badajox and Palencia in Castile. The acquisitions of Wolsey were now become so exorbitant, that, joined to the pensions from foreign powers, which Henry allowed him to possess, his revenues were computed nearly to equal those which belonged to the crown itself; and he spent them with a magnificence, or rather an ostentation, which gave general offence to the people; and much lessened his master in the eyes of all foreign nations[*].

War between Charles and Francis.

THE violent personal emulation and political jealousy which had taken place between the emperor and the French King, soon broke into action. Francis sent an army into Navarre under the command of De Foix, in order to replace the family of Albert in the possession of that kingdom; and this enterprize could not have been complained of as a breach of treaty, if De Foix had confined himself to that equitable design. But after he had subdued Navarre, finding Spain in great disorder from the insurrections of the people, he thought the opportunity favourable, and he ventured, with Francis's approbation, to lay fiege to Logrogno in Castile. This invasion, contrary to what was expected, put an end to the domestic dissentions of the Castilians; who attacked the French, obliged them to raise the siege, pursued the advantage, and entirely expelled them Navarre, which has ever since remained united with the Spanish monarchy[†]. Robert de la Marck, duke of Boüillon and prince of Sedan, having received some disgust from the governess of the Low Countries, had taken arms and invaded those provinces; and had even sent a challenge or defiance to the emperor himself[‡]: A boldness, which seemed entirely unaccountable, except on the supposition that this petty prince had received secret encouragement from Francis. On the other hand, Charles, in order to chastise the insolence of Robert, had levied a powerful army, and advanced to the frontiers of France, which he threatened with an invasion. Hostilities were soon carried farther; his generals besieged Mouson, which they took; they invested Mezieres, where they met with a repulse. In Italy likewise the two monarchs were not inactive. Francis negotiated with the Pope, in order to engage him to concur in expelling the imperialists from Naples: But Charles had the address to finish his league with the same power for expelling the French from Milan; and the united arms of the allies had invaded that dutchy, and had almost entirely finished their enterprize.

WHILE these ambitious and warlike princes were committing hostilities on each other in every part of Europe, they still made professions of the strongest desire of peace; and both of them carried incessantly their complaints to Henry, as to the arbiter or umpire between them.
Mediation of Henry.

The King, who appeared neutral, engaged them to send their ambassadors to Calais, there to negotiate a peace under the mediation of Wolsey and the pope's nuntio. The emperor was well acquainted with the partiality of these mediators; and his demands in the conference were so unreasonable, as plainly proved him conscious of this advantage. He required the restitution of Burgundy, a province, which had been ceded many years before by treaty, and which would have given him access into the midst of France: And he demanded to be freed from the homage, which his ancestors had ever paid for Flanders and Artois, and which he himself had, by the treaty of Noyon, promised to renew. On Francis's rejecting these terms, the congress at Calais broke up, and Wolsey, soon after, took a journey to Bruges, where he met with the emperor.
24th of November.

He was received with the same state, magnificence, and respect, as if he had been the King of England himself; and he concluded in his master's name an offensive alliance with the pope and the emperor against France. He engaged that England should next summer invade that kingdom with forty thousand men; and he betrothed to Charles the princess Mary, the King's only child, who had now some prospect of inheriting the crown. This extravagant alliance, which was prejudicial to the interests, and might have proved fatal to the liberty and independance of the kingdom, was the result of the humours and prejudices of the King, and the private views and expectations of the cardinal.

THE people saw every day new instances of the uncontrouled authority of this minister.
Trial and condemnation of the duke of Buckingham.

The duke of Buckingham, constable of England, the first nobleman both for family and fortune in the kingdom, had been so unfortunate as to give disgust to the cardinal, and it was not long before he found reason to repent his indiscretion. He seems to have been a man full of levity and rash projects; and being infatuated with judicial astrology, he entertained commerce with one Hopkins, a carthusian monk, who encouraged him with the notion of mounting one day the throne of England. He was descended by a female from the duke of Glocester, youngest son of Edward the third; and tho' his claim to the crown was thereby very remote, he had been so imprudent as to let fall some expressions, as if he thought himself best intitled, in case the King should die without issue, to possess the royal dignity. He had not even abstained from threats against the King's life, and had provided himself of arms, which he intended to employ, in case a favourable opportunity should offer. He was brought to a trial; and the duke of Norfolk, whose son, the earl of Surrey, had married Buckingham's daughter, was created loed steward, in order to preside at this solemn procedure. The jury consisted of a duke, a marquis, seven earls, and twelve barons; and they gave sentence against Buckingham, which was soon after put in execution. There is no reason to think the sentence unjust[*];
17th of May.

but as Buckingham's crime seemed to proceed more from indiscretion than deliberate malice, the people, who loved that nobleman, expected that the King would grant him a pardon, and ascribed their disappointment to the malice and revenge of the cardinal. The King's own jealousy, however, against all pretenders to the crown, was, notwithstanding his undoubted title, very remarkable during the whole course of his reign; and was alone sufficient to render him implacable against Buckingham. The office of constable, which Buckingham inherited from the Bohuns, earls of Hereford, was forfeited, and was never after revived by Henry.

CHAP. III.

Digression concerning the ecclesiastical state.—Origin of the reformation.—Martin Luther.—Henry receives the title of defender of the faith.—Causes of the progress of the reformation.—War with France.—Invasion of France.—War with Scotland.—A Parliament.—Invasion of France.—Italian wars.—The King of France invades Italy.—Battle of Pavia and captivity of Francis.—Francis recovers his liberty.—Sack of Rome.—League with France.

DURING some years, many parts of Europe had been agitated with those religious controversies, which produced the reformation, one of the greatest events in history: But as it was not till this time, that the King of England publickly took part in the quarrel, we had no occasion to give any account of its rise and progress. It will now be necessary to explain these theological disputes; or what is more material, to trace from their origin those abuses, which so generally diffused the opinion, that a reformation of the church or ecclesiastical order was become highly expedient, if not absolutely necessary. We shall be better enabled to comprehend the subject, if we take the matter a little higher, and reflect a moment on the reasons, why there must be an ecclesiastical order, and a public establishment of religion in every civilized community. The importance of the present occasion will, I hope, excuse this short digression.

Digression concerning the ecclesiastical state.

MOST of the arts and professions in a state are of such a nature, that, while they promote the interests of the society, they are also useful or agreeable to some individuals; and in that case, the constant rule of the magistrate, except, perhaps, on the first introduction of any art, is, to leave the profession to itself, and trust its encouragement to the individuals, who reap the benefit of it. The artizans, finding their profits to rise by the favour of their customers, encrease, as much as possible, their skill and industry; and as matters are not disturbed by any injudicious tampering, the commodity is always sure to be at all times exactly proportioned to the demand.

BUT there are also some callings, which, tho' useful and even necessary in a state, bring no advantage nor pleasure to any individuals; and the supreme power is obliged to alter its conduct with regard to the retainers of those professions. It must give them public encouragement in order to their subsistance; and it must provide against that negligence, to which they will naturally be subject, either by annexing particular honour to the profession, by establishing a long subordination of ranks and a strict dependance, or by some other expedient. The persons employed in the finances, armies, fleets, and magistracy are instances of this order of men.

IT may naturally be thought, at first view, that the ecclesiastics belong to the first class, and that their encouragement, as well as that of lawyers and physicians, may safely be trusted to the liberality of individuals, who are attached to their doctrines, and who find benefit or consolation from their spiritual ministry and assistance. Their industry and vigilance will, no doubt, be whetted by such an additional motive; and their skill in the profession, as well as their address in governing the minds of the people, must receive daily encrease, from their encreasing practice, study, and attention.

BUT if we consider the matter more closely, we shall find, that this interested diligence of the clergy is what every wise legislator will study to avoid; because in every religion, except the true, it is highly pernicious, and has even a natural tendency to pervert the true, by infusing into it a strong mixture of superstition, folly, and delusion. Each ghostly practitioner, in order to render himself more precious and sacred in the eyes of his retainers, must inspire them with the most violent abhorrence against all other sects, and continually endeavour, by some novelty, to excite the languid devotion of his audience. No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or decency in the doctrines inculcated. Every tenet will be adopted, that best suits the disorderly affections of the human frame. Customers will be drawn to each conventicle by new industry and address in practising on the passions and credulity of the populace. And in the end, the civil magistrate will find, that he has paid dearly for his pretended frugality, in saving a settled foundation for the priests; and that in reality the most decent and advantageous composition, which he can make with the spiritual guides, is to bribe their indolence, by affixing stated sallaries to their profession, and rendering it superfluous for them to be farther active, than merely to preserve their flock from straying in quest of new pastures. And in this manner ecclesiastical establishments, tho' commonly they arose at first from religious views, prove in the end advantageous to the political interests of society.

BUT we may observe, that few ecclesiastical establishments have been fixed upon a worse foundation than that of the church of Rome, or have been attended with circumstances more hurtful to the peace and happiness of mankind.

THE large revenues, privileges, immunities, and powers of the clergy rendered them formidable to the civil magistrate, and armed with too extensive authority an order of men, who always adhere closely together, and who never want a plausible pretence for their encroachments and usurpations. The higher dignities of the church served, indeed, to the support of gentry and nobility; but by the establishment of monasteries, many of the lowest vulgar were taken from the useful arts, and maintained in those receptacles of sloth and ignorance. The supreme head of the church was a foreign potentate, who was guided by interests, always different, sometimes contrary to those of the community. And as the hierarchy was necessarily solicitous to preserve an unity of faith, rites and ceremonies, all liberty of thought ran a manifest risque of being extinguished; and violent persecutions, or what was worse, a stupid and abject credulity, took place every where.

TO encrease these evils, the church, tho' she possessed large revenues, was not contented with her acquisitions, but retained a power of practising farther on the ignorance of mankind. She even bestowed on each individual priest a power of enriching himself by the voluntary oblations of the faithful, and left him still a powerful motive for diligence and industry in his calling. And thus, that church, tho' an expensive and burthensome establishment, was liable to many of the inconveniencies, which belong to an order of priests, trusted entirely to their own art and invention for attaining a subsistance.

THE advantages, attending the Romish hierarchy, were but a small compensation for its inconveniencies. The ecclesiastical privileges, during barbarous times, had served as a cheque to the despotism of Kings. The union of all the western churches under the supreme pontiff facilitated the intercourse of nations, and tended to bind Europe into an immense republic. And the pomp and splendour of worship, which belonged to so opulent an establishment, contributed, in some respects, to the encouragement of the fine arts, and began to diffuse a general elegance of taste, by uniting it with religion.

IT will easily be conceived, that, tho' the ballance of evil prevailed in the Romish church, this was not the chief reason, which produced the reformation. A concurrence of incidents must have contributed to forward that great work.

Origin of the reformation.

POPE Leo the tenth, by his generous and enterprizing temper, had very much exhausted the treasury, and was obliged to make use of every invention, which might yield money, in order to support his projects, pleasures, and liberalities. The scheme of selling indulgences was suggested to him, as an expedient which had often served in former times to draw money from the christian world, and make devout people willing contributors to the grandeur and riches of the court of Rome. The church, it was supposed, was possessed of a great stock of merit, as being intitled to all the good works of the saints, beyond what were employed in their own justification; and even to the merits of Christ himself, which were infinite and unbounded: And from this unexhausted treasury, the pope might retail particular portions, and by that traffic acquire money, to be employed in pious purposes, the resisting the Turk, or subduing schismatics. When the money came into his treasury, the greatest part of it was usually diverted to other purposes[*].

IT is commonly believed, that Leo, from the penetration of his genius, and his familiarity with literature, was fully acquainted with the ridicule and fallacy of the doctrines, which, as supreme pontiff, he was obliged by his interest to promote: And it is the less wonder, therefore, that he employed for his profit those pious frauds, which his predecessors, the most ignorant and credulous, had always, under plausible pretexts, made use of for their selfish purposes. He published the sale of a general indulgence[†]; and as his expences had not only exhausted his usual revenue, but even anticipated the income of this extraordinary expedient, the several branches of it were openly given away to particular persons, who were entitled to levy the imposition. The produce particularly of Saxony and the countries bordering on the Baltic was assigned to his sister, Magdalene, married to Cibo, natural son of Innocent the eighth; and she, in order to enhance her profit, had farmed out the revenue to one Arcemboldi, a Genoese, now a bishop, formerly a merchant, who still retained all the lucrative arts of his former profession[‡]. The Austin friars had usually been employed in Saxony to preach the indulgences, and from this trust had derived both profit and consideration: But Arcemboldi, fearing, lest practice might have taught them means to secret the money[§], and expecting no extraordinary success from the ordinary methods of collection, gave this occupation to the dominicans. These monks, in order to prove themselves worthy of the distinction conferred on them, exaggerated the benefit of indulgences by the most unbounded panegyrics; and advanced doctrines on that head, which, tho' not more ridiculous than those already received, were such as the ears of the people were not yet fully accustomed to. To add to the scandal, the collectors of this revenue are said to have lived very licentious lives, and to have spent in taverns, gaming houses, and places still more infamous, the money, which devout persons had saved from their usual expences, in order to purchase a remission of their sins[*].

ALL these circumstances might have given offence, but would have been attended with no event of any importance, had there not arisen a man, qualified to take advantage of the incident.
Martin Luther.

Martin Luther, an Austin friar, professor in the university of Wirtemberg, resenting the affront put upon his order, began to preach against these abuses in the sale of indulgences; and being naturally of a fiery temper, and being provoked by opposition, he proceeded even to decry indulgences themselves; and was thence carried, by the heat of dispute, to question the authority of the pope, from which his adversaries derived their chief arguments against him[†]. Still as he enlarged his reading, in order to support these tenets, he discovered some new abuse or error in the church of Rome; and finding his opinions greedily hearkened to, he promulgated them by writing, discourses, sermons, conferences; and daily encreased the number of his disciples. All Saxony, all Germany, all Europe were in a very little time filled with the voice of this daring innovator; and men, rouzed from that lethargy, in which they had so long slept, began to call in question the most antient and most received opinions. The elector of Saxony, favourable to Luther's doctrine, protected him from the violence of the papal jurisdiction: The republic of Zuric even reformed their church according to the new model: Many sovereigns of the empire, and the imperial diet itself, showed a favourable disposition towards it: And Luther, a man naturally inflexible, vehement, opinionative, was become incapable, either from promises of advancement, or terrors of severity, to relinquish a sect, of which he was himself the founder, and which brought him a glory, superior to all others, the glory of dictating the religious faith and principles of multitudes.

THE rumour of these innovations soon reached England; and as there still subsisted in that kingdom great remains of the Lollards, whose principles resembled those of Luther, the new doctrines gained secretly many partizans among the laiety of all ranks and denominations. Henry had been educated in a strict attachment to the church of Rome, and he bore a particular prejudice against Luther, who, in his writings, spoke with contempt of Thomas Aquinas, the King's favourite author: He opposed himself therefore to the progress of the Lutheran tenets, by all the influence which his extensive and almost absolute authority conferred upon him: He even undertook to combat them with weapons not usually employed by monarchs, especially those in the flower of their age, and force of their passions. He wrote a book in Latin against the principles of Luther; a performance, which, if allowance be made for the subject and the age, does no discredit to his capacity. He sent a copy of it to Leo, who received so magnificent a present with great testimony of regard;
Henry receives the title of defender of the faith.

and conferred on him, the title of defender of the faith; an appellation still retained by the Kings of England. Luther, who was in the heat of controversy, soon wrote an answer to Henry; and without regard to the dignity of his antagonist, treated him with all the acrimony of style, to which, in the course of his polemics, he had so long been accustomed. The King, by this ill usage, was still more prejudiced against the new doctrines; but the public, who naturally favour the weaker party, were inclined to attribute to Luther the victory in the dispute[‡]. And as the controversy became more illustrious, by Henry's entering the lists, it drew more the attention of mankind; and the Lutheran doctrine acquired daily new converts in every part of Europe.

Causes of the progress of the reformation.

THE quick and surprizing progress of this bold sect may justly in part be ascribed to the late invention of printing, and revival of learning: Not that reason bore any considerable part, in opening men's eyes with regard to the impostures of the Romish church: For of all branches of literature, philosophy had, as yet, and till long afterwards, made the most inconsiderable progress; neither is there any instance where argument has been able to free the people from that enormous load of absurdity, with which superstition has every where overwhelmed them: Not to mention, that the rapid advance of the Lutheran doctrine, and the violence, with which it was embraced, prove sufficiently, that it owed not its success to reason and reflection. The art of printing and the revival of learning forwarded its progress in another manner. By means of that art, the books of Luther and his sectaries, full of vehemence, declamation and a rude eloquence, were propagated more quickly, and in greater numbers. The minds of men, somewhat awakened from a profound sleep of so many centuries, were prepared for every novelty, and scrupled less to tread in any unusual path, which was opened to them. And as copies of the scriptures and other antient monuments of the christian faith became more common, men perceived the innovations, which were introduced after the first centuries; and though argument and reasoning could not give conviction, an historical fact, well supported, was able to make impression on their understandings. Many of the powers, indeed, assumed by the church of Rome, were very antient, and were prior to almost every political government established in Europe: But as the ecclesiastics would not submit to possess their privileges as matters of civil right, which time could render valid, but appealed still to a divine origin, men were tempted to look into their primitive charter; and they could, without much difficulty, perceive its defect in truth and authenticity.

IN order to bestow on this topic the greater influence, Luther and his followers, not satisfied with opposing the pretended divinity of the Romish church, and displaying the temporal inconveniencies of that establishment, carried matters much farther, and treated the religion of their ancestors, as abominable, detestable, damnable; foretold by sacred writ itself as the source of all wickedness and pollution. They denominated the pope antichrist, called his communion the scarlet whore, and gave to Rome the appellation of Babylon; expressions, which, however applied, were to be found in scripture, and which were better calculated to operate on the multitude than the most solid arguments. Excited by contest and persecution on the one hand, by success and applause on the other, many of the reformers carried their opposition to the greatest extremity against the church of Rome; and in contradiction to the multiplied superstitions, with which that communion was loaded, they adopted an enthusiastic strain of devotion, which admitted of no observances, rites or ceremonies, but placed all merit in a mysterious species of faith, in inward vision, rapture, and extacy. The new sectaries, seized with this spirit, were indefatigable in the propagation of their doctrine, and set at defiance all the anathemas and punishments, with which the Roman pontiff endeavoured to overwhelm them.

THAT the civil power, however, might afford them protection against the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the Lutherans advanced doctrines favourable, in some respects, to the temporal authority of sovereigns. They inveighed against the abuses of the court of Rome, with which men were at that time generally discontented; and exhorted princes to reinstate themselves in those powers, of which the incroaching spirit of the ecclesiastics, and especially of the sovereign pontiff, had so long bereaved them. They condemned celibacy and monastic vows, and thereby opened the doors of the convents to those who were either tired of the obedience and chastity, or disgusted with the licence, in which they had hitherto lived. They blamed the excessive riches, the idleness, the libertinism of the clergy; and pointed out their treasures and revenues as lawful spoil to the first invader. And as the ecclesiastics had hitherto conducted a willing and a stupid audience, and were totally unacquainted with controversy, and even every species of literature; they were unable to defend themselves against men, armed with authorities, citations, and popular topics, and qualified to triumph in every altercation or debate. Such were the advantages, with which the reformers began their attack of the Roman hierarchy; and such were the causes of their rapid and astonishing success.

1st December.

LEO the tenth, whose oversights and too supine trust in the profound ignorance of the people, had given rise to this sect, but whose sound judgment, moderation and temper, were well qualified to retard its progress, died in the flower of his age, a little after he received the King's book against Lusher; and he was succeeded in the papal chair, by Adrian, a Fleming, tutor to the emperor Charles. This man was qualified to gain on the reformers by the integrity, candour, and simplicity of manners, by which he was distinguished; but, so violent were their prejudices against the church, he rather hurt the cause by his imprudent exercise of those virtues. He frankly confessed, that many abominable and detestable practices prevailed in the court of Rome; and by this sincere avowal, he gave occasion of much triumph to the Lutherans. This pontiff also, whose penetration was not equal to his good intentions, was seduced to concur in that league, which Charles and Henry had formed against France[*]; and he thereby augmented the scandal, occasioned by the practice of so many preceding popes, who still made their spiritual arms subservient to political purposes.

THE emperor, Charles, who knew, that Wolsey had received a disappointment in his ambitious hopes by the election of Adrian, and who dreaded the resentment of that haughty minister, was solicitous to repair the breach made in their friendship by this incident.
26th May.

He paid a new visit to England; and besides flattering the vanity of the King and the cardinal, he repeated to Wolsey all the promises, which he had made him, of seconding his pretensions to the papal throne. Wolsey, sensible that Adrian's great age and infirmities promised a sudden vacancy, dissembled his resentment, and was willing to hope for a more prosperous issue of the next election. The emperor renewed the treaty made at Bruges, to which some articles were added; and he agreed to indemnify both the King and Wolsey for the revenues which they should lose by a breach with France. The more to ingratiate himself with Henry and the English nation; he gave to Surrey, admiral of England, a commission for being admiral of his dominions; and he himself was installed knight of the garter at London. After a stay of six weeks in England, he embarked at Southampton, and in ten days arrived in Spain, where he soon pacified the tumults which had arisen in his absence[†].

War with France.

THE King declared war against France; and this measure was founded on so little reason, that he could allege nothing as a ground of quarrel, but Francis's refusal to submit to his arbitration, and his sending Albany into Scotland. This last step had not been taken by the French King, till he was quite assured of Henry's resolution to attack him. Surrey landed some troops at Cherbourg in Normandy; and after laying waste the country, he •ailed to Morlaix, a rich town in Britanny, which he took and plundered. The English merchants had great property in that place, which was no more spared by the soldiers, than the goods of the French. Surrey then left the charge of the fleet to the vice-admiral; and •ailed to Calais, where he took the command of the English army, destined for the invasion of France. This army, when joined by forces from the Low Countries under the command of the count of Buren, consisted in the whole of 18,000 men.

Invasion of France.

THE French had made it a maxim in all their wars with the English, since the reign of Charles the fifth, never, without great necessity, to hazard a general engagement; and the duke of Vendome, who commanded the French army, now embraced this wise policy. He supplied the towns most exposed, especially Boulogne, Montreuil, Teroüenne, Hedin, with strong garrisons and plenty of provisions: He himself took post at Abbeville, with some Swiss and French infantry, and a body of cavalry: The count of Guise encamped under Montreuil with six thousand men. These two bodies were in a situation to join upon occasion; to throw succour into any town, that was threatened; and to harrass the English in every movement. Surrey, who was not supplied with magazines, first divided his army for the convenience of sublisting them; but finding that his quarters were every moment beaten up by the activity of the French generals, he drew together the forces, and laid siege to Hedin. But neither did he succeed in this enterprize. The garrison made vigorous sallies upon his army: The French forces assaulted them from without: Great rains fell: Fatigue and bad weather threw the soldiers into dysenteries: And Surrey was obliged to raise the siege, and put his troops into winter quarters about the end of October. His rear guard was attacked at Pas in Artois; and five or six hundred men were cut off; nor could all his efforts make him master of one place within the French frontier.

THE allies were more successful in Italy. Lautrec, who commanded the French, lost a bloody battle at Bicocca near Milan; and was obliged to retire with the remains of his army. This misfortune, which proceeded from Francis's negligence in not supplying Lautrec with money[*], was followed by the loss of Genoa. The castle of Cremona was the sole fortress in Italy, which remained in the hands of the French.

EUROPE was now in such a situation, and so connected by alliances and interest, that it was almost impossible for war to be kindled in one part, and not diffuse itself thro' the whole: But of all the leagues among kingdoms, the closest was that which had so long subsisted between France and Scotland; and the English, while at war with the former nation, could not expect to remain long unmolested on the northern frontier.
War with Scotland.

No sooner had Albany arrived in Scotland, than he took measures for kindling a war with England; and he summoned the whole force of the kingdom to meet in the fields of Rosline[†]. He thence conducted the army southwards into Annandale; and prepared to pass the borders at Solway-Firth. But many of the nobility were disgusted with the regent's administration; and observing, that his connexions with his native country were very feeble in comparison of those with France, they murmured, that for the sake of foreign interests, their peace should be so often disturbed, and war, during their King's minority, be wantonly entered into with a neighbouring nation, so much superior in force and riches. The Gordons, in particular, refused to advance any farther; and Albany, observing a general discontent to prevail, was obliged to conclude a truce with lord Dacres, warden of the English west marches. Soon after, he departed for France; and lest the opposite faction should gather force in his absence, he sent thither before him the earl of Angus, husband to the queen dowager.

NEXT year, Henry, that he might take advantage of the regent's absence, marched an army into Scotland under the command of Surrey, who ravaged the Merse and Teviotdale without opposition, and burned the town of Jedburgh. The Scotch had neither King nor Regent to conduct them: The two Humes had been put to death: Angus was in a manner banished: No nobleman of vigour or authority remained, who was qualified to assume the government: And the English monarch, who knew the distrest situation of the country, was determined to push them to extremity, in hopes of engaging them, by the sense of their present miseries, to make a solemn renounciation of the French alliance, and embrace that of England[*]. He even gave them hopes of contracting a marriage between the lady Mary, heiress of England, and their young monarch; an expedient, which would for ever unite the two kingdoms[‡]: And the queen dowager, with her whole party, recommended 〈◊〉 where the advantages of this 〈◊〉 and or a confederacy with England. They said, that the interests of Scotland had too long been sacrificed to those of the French nation, who, whenever they found themselves reduced to difficulties, called for the assistance of their allies, but were ready to abandon them, so soon as they found their advantage in making peace with England: That where a small state entered into so close a confederacy with a greater, it must always expect this treatment, as a consequence of the unequal alliance; but that there were peculiar circumstances in the situation of the kingdoms, which, in the present case, rendered it inevitable: That France was so distant and so divided from them by seas, that she scarce could by any means, and never could in time, send succours to the Scotch, sufficient to protect them against ravages from the neighbouring kingdom: That nature had, in a manner, framed an alliance between the two British nations; having enclosed them in the same island; given them the same manners, language, laws, and form of government; and prepared every thing for an intimate union between them: And that, if national antipathies were abolished, which would soon be the effect of peace, these two kingdoms, secured by the ocean and by their domestic force, could set at defiance all foreign enemies, and remain for ever secure and unmolested.

THE partizans of the French alliance said, on the other hand, that the very reasons, which were urged in favour of a league with England, the close neighbourhood of the kingdom and its superior force, were the real causes, why a sincere and durable confederacy could never be framed with that hostile nation: That among neighbouring states, occasions of quarrel were frequent; and the more powerful people would be sure to seize every frivolous pretence for oppressing the weaker, and reducing them to subjection: That as the near neighbourhood of France and England had kindled a war almost perpetual between them, it was the interest of the Scotch, if they wished to maintain their independancy, to preserve their league with the former kingdom, which balanced the force of the latter: That if they deserted that old and salutary alliance, on which their importance in Europe chiefly depended, their antient enemies, stimulated both by interest and by passion, would soon invade them with superior force, and reduce them to subjection: Or if they delayed the attack, the insidious peace, by making the Scotch lose the use of arms, would only prepare the way for a slavery more certain and more irretrieveable[*].

THE arguments employed by the French party, being seconded by the natural prejudices of the people, seemed rather to prevail: And when the regent himself, who had been long detained beyond his appointed time by the terror of the English fleet, at last appeared among them, he was able to throw the balance entirely on that side. By the authority of the convention of states, he assembled an army, with a view of avenging the ravages committed by the English in the beginning of the campaign; and he led them southwards towards the borders. But when they were passing the Tweed at the bridge of Melross, the English party were again able to raise such opposition, that Albany thought proper to make a retreat. He marched downwards, along the banks of the Tweed, keeping that river on his right; and fixed his camp opposite to Werk-Castle, which Surrey had lately repaired. He sent over some troops to besiege that fortress, who made a breach in it, and stormed some of the outworks: But the regent, hearing of the approach of an English army, and discouraged by the advanced season, thought proper to disband his forces and retire to Edinburgh. Soon after he went over to France, and never again returned to Scotland. The Scotch nation, agitated by their domestic factions, were not, during several years, in a condition to give any more disturbance to England; and Henry had full leisure to prosecute his designs on the continent.

THE reason, why the war against France proceeded so slowly on the part of England was the want of money. All Henry the seventh's treasures were long since dissipated; the King's habits of expence still remained; and his revenues were unequal even to the ordinary support of his government, much more to his military enterprizes. He had last year caused a general survey to be made of the kingdom; the numbers of men, their years, profession, stock, revenue[*]; and expressed great satisfaction on finding the nation so opulent. He then issued out privy seals to the most wealthy, demanding loans of particular sums; and this act of power, tho' somewhat irregular and tyrannical, had been formerly practised by the Kings of England; and the people were now familiarized to it. But Henry carried his authority much farther on this occasion. He issued an edict for a general tax upon his subjects, which he still called a loan; and he levied five shillings in the pound from the clergy, two shillings from the laity. This pretended loan, as being more regular, was really more dangerous to the liberties of the people; and was a precedent for the King's imposing taxes without consent of Parliament.

15th of April.

A Parliament.

HENRY summoned a Parliament this year, together with a convocation; and •ound neither of them in a disposition to complain of the infringement of their privileges. It was only doubted, how far they would carry their liberality to the King. Wolsey, who had undertaken the management of this affair, began with the convocation; in hopes, that their example would influence the Parliament to grant a large supply. He demanded a moiety of their ecclesiastical revenues to be levied in five years, or two shillings in the pound during that time, and tho' he met with opposition, he reprimanded so severely the refractory members, that his request was at last complied with. The cardinal afterwards, attended by several of the nobility and prelates, came to the house of commons; and in a long and elaborate speech laid before them the public necessities, the dangers of an invasion from Scotland, the affronts received from France, the league in which the King was engaged with the pope and the emperor; and he demanded a grant of 800,000 pounds, divided into four yearly payments; a sum, computed from the late survey or valuation, to be equivalent to four shillings in the pound of one year's revenue, or one shilling in the pound yearly, according to the division proposed. So large a grant was unusual from the commons; and tho' the cardinal's demand was seconded by Sir Thomas More the speaker, and several other members attached to the court, the house could not be prevailed with to comply[†]. They only voted two shillings in the pound on all possessed of twenty pounds a year and upwards, one shilling on all between twenty pounds and forty shillings a year; and on all the rest of the subjects above sixteen years of age a groat a-head. This last sum was divided into two yearly payments; the former into four yearly payments, and was not therefore at the outmost above six-pence in the pound. The grant of the commons was but the moiety of the sum demanded; and the cardinal, therefore, much mortified with the disappointment, came again to the house, and desired to reason with such as refused to comply with the King's request. He was told, that it was a rule of the house never to reason but among themselves; and his desire was rejected. The commons, however, enlarged a little their former grant, and voted an imposition of three shillings in the pound on all possessed of fifty pounds a year, and upwards[*]. The proceedings of this house of commons discover evidently the humour of the times: They were extremely tenacious of their money, and refused a demand of the crown, which was far from unreasonable; but they allowed an encroachment on national privileges to pass uncensured, tho' its direct tendency was to subvert entirely the liberties of the people. The King was so dissatisfied with this saving disposition of the commons, that, as he had not called a Parliament during seven years before, he allowed seven more to elapse, before he summoned another. And under pretence of necessity, he levied, in one year, from all who were worth forty pounds, what the parliament had granted him payable in four years[†]; a new invasion of national privileges. These irregularities were commonly ascribed to the cardinal's counsels, who, trusting to the protection, afforded him by his ecclesiastical character, was less scrupulous in his encroachments on the civil rights of the nation.

THAT ambitious prelate received this year a new disappointment in his aspiring views. The pope, Adrian the sixth, died; and Clement the seventh, of the family of Medici, was elected in his place, by the concurrence of the imperial party. Wolsey began now to perceive the insincerity of the emperor, and concluded that that prince would never second his pretensions to the papal chair. This injury was highly resented by the cardinal; and he began thenceforth to estrange himself from the imperial court, and to pave the way for an union between his master and the French King. Meanwhile, he dissembled his resentment; and after congratulating the new pope on his promotion, applied for a continuation of the legantine powers, which the two former popes had conferred upon him. Clement, knowing the importance of gaining his friendship, granted him a commission for life; and by this unusual concession, he in a manner transferred to him the whole papal authority in England. In some particulars, Wolsey made a good use of this extensive power. He erected two colleges, one at Oxford, another at Ipswich, the place of his nativity: He sought, all over Europe, for learned men to supply the chairs of these colleges: And in order to bestow endowments on them, he suppressed some smaller monasteries, and distributed the monks into other convents. The execution of this project became the l•ss difficult for him, that the Romish church began to perceive, that she over-abounded in monks, and that she wanted some supply of learning, in order to oppose the inquisitive, or rather disputative, humour of the new reformers.

THE consederacy against France seemed more formidable than ever, on the opening this campaign[*]. Adrian, before his death, had renewed the league with Charles and Henry. The Venetians had been induced to desert the French alliance, and to form engagements for the securing Sforza in possession of the Milanese. The Florentines, the dukes of Ferrara and Mantua, and all the powers of Italy combined in the same measure. The emperor in person menaced France with a powerful invasion on the side of Guienne: The forces of England and the Netherlands seemed ready to break into Picardy: A numerous body of Germans were preparing to ravage Burgundy: But all these perils from foreign enemies were less threatening than a domestic conspiracy, which had been forming, and which was now come to full maturity against the French monarch.

CHARLES duke of Bourbon, constable of France, was a prince of the most shining merit; and, beside distinguishing himself in many military enterprizes, he was adorned with every accomplishment, which became a person of his high station. His virtues, embellished with the graces of youth, had made such impression on Louise of Savoy, Francis's mother, that, without regard to the inequality of their years, she made him proposals of marriage; and meeting with a refusal, she formed schemes of unrelenting vengeance against him. She was a woman, false, deceitful, vindictive, malicious; but, unhappily for France, had by her capacity, which was considerable, acquired an absolute ascendant over her son. By her instigation, Francis put many affronts on the constable, which it was difficult for a gallant spirit to endure; and at last he permitted Louise to prosecute a lawsuit against him, by which, under the most frivolous pretences, he was deprived of his ample possessions; and inevitable ruin was brought upon him.

BOURBON, provoked at all these indignities, and thinking, that, if any injuries could justify a man in rebelling against his prince and country, he must stand acquitted, had entered into a secret correspondence with the emperor and the King of England[*]. Francis, pertinacious in his design of recovering the the Milanese, had proposed to lead his army in person into Italy; and Bourbon, who feigned sickness, in order to have a pretence for staying behind, intended, so soon as the King had passed the Alps, to raise an insurrection among his numerous vassals, by whom he was extremely beloved, and to introduce foreign enemies into the heart of the kingdom. Francis got intimation of his design; but not being prompt enough in securing so dangerous a foe, the constable made his escape[†]; and putting himself in the emperor's service, did all the injuries to his native country, which his enterprizing spirit and his great talents for war enabled him to perform. Charles professed such regard for him, that he promised him his sister in marriage, Eleonora, widow to Emanuel, King of Portugal; and when the constable came to Madrid, some time after, the emperor received him with all the demonstrations of friendship. He said to a Spanish grandee, that he must desire him, while Bourbon resided in that city, to allow him to take up his residence in his house, as most suitable to his rank and quality. The nobleman replied, with a Castilian dignity, that his majesty's desire was to him a sufficient reason; but he must tell him beforehand, that so soon as Bourbon departed he would raze to the ground the house which had been polluted by the presence of such a traitor[*].

THE King of England, desirous that Francis should undertake his Italian expedition, did not openly threaten Picardy this year with an invasion;
24th August.

and it was late before the duke of Suffolk, who commanded the English forces, passed over to Calais. He was attended with the lords Montacute, Herbert, Ferrars, Morney, Sandys, Berkeley, Powis, and many other noblemen and gentlemen[†]. The English army, reinforced by some troops, drawn from the garrison of Calais, amounted to about 12,000 men;
Invasion of France.

and having joined an equal number of Flemings under the count of Buren, they prepared for an invasion of France. The siege of Boulogne was first proposed; but that enterprize appearing difficult, it was thought more adviseable to leave this town behind them. The frontier of Picardy was very ill provided of troops; and the only defence of that province was the activity of the French officers, who infested the allied army in their march, and threw garrisons, with great expedition, into every town, which was threatened by them. After coasting the Somme, and passing Hedin, Montreuil, Dourlens, the English and Flemings presented themselves before Bray, a place of small force, which commanded a bridge over the Somme. Here they were resolved to pass, and, if possible, to take up winter quarters in France; but Crequi threw himself into the town, and seemed determined to defend it. The allies attacked him with vigour and success; and when he retreated over the bridge, they pursued him so hotly, that they allowed him not time to break it down, but passed it along with him, and put him to route. They next advanced to Montdidier, which they besieged and took by capitulation. Meeting with no opposition, they proceeded to the river Oise, within eleven leagues of Paris, and threw that city into great consternation; till the duke of Vendome hastened with some forces to its relief. The confederates, then, afraid of being surrounded, and reduced to extremities during so advanced a season, thought proper to retire. Montdidier was abandoned: And the English and Flemings went each into their own country.

FRANCE defended herself from the other invasions with equal facility and equal good so tune. Twelve thousand Lansquenets broke into Burgundy under the command of the count of Fustemberg. The count of Guise, who defended that frontier, had nothing to oppose to them but some militia, and about nine hundred heavy-armed cavalry. He threw the militia into the garrison-towns; and with his cavalry, he kept the field, and so harrassed the Germans, that they were glad to make their retreat into Lorraine. Guise attacked them as they passed the Meuse, put them into disorder, and cut off the greatest part of their rear.

THE emperor made great preparations on the side of Navarre; and, tho' that frontier was well guarded by nature, it seemed now exposed to great danger from this powerful invasion which threatened it. Charles besieged Fontarabia, which had fallen a few years before into Francis's hands; and when he had drawn thither Lautrec, the French general, he raised the siege of a sudden, and sat down before Bayonne. Lautrec, aware of that stratagem, made a sudden march and threw himself into Bayonne, which he defended with such vigour and courage, that the Spaniards were constrained to raise the siege. The emperor would have been totally unfortunate on this side, had he not turned back upon Fontarabia, and, contrary to the advice of all his generals, sat down, in the winter season, before that city, well fortified and strongly garrisoned. The cowardice or misconduct of the governor saved him the shame of a new disappointment. The place was surrendered in a few days; and the emperor, having finished this enterprize, put his troops into winter quarters.

Italian wars.

SO obstinate was Francis in prosecuting his Italian expedition, that, notwithstanding these dangerous invasions, with which his kingdom was menaced on every side, he had determined to lead in person a powerful army to the conquest of Milan. The intelligence of Bourbon's revolt and escape stopped him at Lyons; and fearing some insurrection in the kingdom from the intrigues of a man so powerful and so beloved, he thought it prudent to remain in France; and to send forward his army, under the command of admiral Bonnivet. The dutchy of Milan had been purposely left in a condition somewhat defenceless, with a view of alluring Francis to attack it; and no sooner had Bonnivet passed the Tesin, than the army of the league, and even Prosper Colonna, who commanded it, a very prudent general, were in the utmost confusion. It is agreed, that if Bonnivet had immediately advanced to Milan, that great city, on which the whole dutchy depends, would have opened its gates without resistance: But as he wasted his time in frivolous enterprizes, Colonna had opporunity to reinforce the garrison, and to put the place in a posture of defence. Bonnivet was now obliged to attempt reducing the city by blockade and famine; and he took possession of all the posts, which commanded the passages to it. But the army of the league, mean-while, was not inactive; and they so straitened and harrassed the quarters of the French, that it seemed more likely the latter would themselves perish by famine, than reduce the city to that extremity. Sickness and fatigue and want had wasted them to such a degree, that they were ready to raise the blockade; and their only hopes consisted in a great body of Swiss, which was levied for the service of the French king, and whose arrival was every day expected.

THE Swiss had in that age so great a superiority in the field above almost every other nation, and had been so much courted by all the great potentates of Europe, that they were become extremely capricious and haughty, and thought that the fate of kingdoms depended entirely on their assistance or opposition. Francis had promised to this body of mercenaries, whom he had hired to join Bonnivet, that so soon as they arrived in the plains of Piedmont, the duke of Longueville should join them with four hundred lances, and conduct them to the French camp: But by some accident Longueville's march had been retarded, and the Swiss had been obliged to march, without the honour of being escorted by him. Offended at this neglect, as they interpreted it, they no sooner came within sight of the French camp, than they stopped, and instead of joining Bonnivet, they sent orders to a great body of their countrymen, who then served under him, immediately to begin their march, and to return home in their company[*].

AFTER this desertion of the Swiss, Bonnivet had no other choice, than that of making his retreat, as fast as possible, into France. He accordingly put himself in motion for that purpose; but the allies, who foresaw this measure, were ready to fall upon his rear. The French army, however, after a sharp action, made good their retreat, tho' not without considerable loss both in officers and private men. Among the rest, fell in this action the brave chevalier Bayard, esteemed in that age the model of soldiers and men of honour, and denominated the knight without fear and without reproach. When this gallant gentleman felt his wounds to be mortal, and could no longer support himself on horseback, he ordered his attendants to set him under a tree, and turn his face towards the enemy, that he might die in that posture. The generals of the allies, and among the rest the duke of Bourbon, came about him, and expressed their concern for his present condition.
"Pity not me," cried he to Bourbon; "I die in the discharge of my duty: They are to be pitied alone, who fight against their prince and country[†].

THE French being thus expelled Italy, the pope, the Venetians, the Florentines were satisfied with the advantage obtained over them, and were resolved to prosecute their victory no farther. All these powers, especially Clement, had entertained a violent jealousy of the emperor's ambition; and their jealousy was extremely augmented, when they saw him refuse the investiture of Milan, a fief of the empire, to Francis Sforza, whose title he had acknowledged, and whose defence he had embraced[*]. They all concluded, that he intended to put himself in possession of that important dutchy, and reduce Italy to subjection: Clement in particular, actuated by this jealousy, proceeded so far in opposition to the emperor, that he sent orders to his nuncio at London to mediate a reconciliation between France and England. But affairs were not yet fully ripe for this change. Wolsey, disgusted with the emperor, but still more actuated by vain-glory, was determined, that he himself should have the renown of bringing about that great alteration; and he engaged the King to reject the pope's mediation. A new treaty was even concluded between Henry and Charles for the invasion of France. Charles stipulated to supply the duke of Bourbon with a powerful army, in order to conquer Provence and Dauphiny: Henry agreed to pay him a hundred thousand crowns for the first month; after which, he might either chuse to continue the same monthly payments, or invade Picardy with a powerful army. Bourbon was to possess these provinces with the title of King; but to hold them in fief of Henry as King of France. The dutchy of Burgundy was to be given to Charles: The rest of the Kingdom to Henry.

THIS chimerical partition immediately failed of execution in the article, which was most easily performed: Bourbon refused to acknowledge Henry as King of France. His enterprize, however, against Provence still took place. A numerous army of imperialists invaded that country under his command and that of the marquis of Pescara. They laid siege to Marseilles, which, being weakly garrisoned, they expected to carry in a little time: But the burgesses defended themselves with such valour and obstinacy, that Bourbon and Pescara, who heard of the French King's approach with a numerous army, found themselves under a necessity of raising the siege; and they led their forces, much weakened, baffled, and disheartened, into Italy.

FRANCIS might now have enjoyed in safety the glory of repulsing all his enemies, in every attempt which they had hitherto made of breaking into his kingdom: But as he received intelligence, that the King of England, discouraged with his former fruitless enterprizes, and disgusted with the emperor, was making no preparations for the invasion of Picardy, his antient ardour seized him for the conquest of Milan; and, notwithstanding the advanced season, he was immediately determined, contrary to the advice of his wisest counsellors, to lead his army into Italy.

The King of France nvades Italy.

HE passed the Alps at Mount Cenis, and no sooner appeared in Piedmont, than he threw the whole Milanese into consternation. There was no army in the field able to oppose him; and Milan itself, tho' affectionate to its duke, was not in the same posture of defence as last year, when blockaded by admiral Bonnivet. It was almost wholly destitute of inhabitants: Great numbers had died of the plague; and the rest had fled into the country for safety. Francis immediately marched to that city, which opened its gates to receive him. The forces of the emperor and Sforza fled to Lodi; and had Francis been so fortunate as to pursue them, they had abandoned that place, and had been totally dissipated[*]. But his ill fate led him to besiege Pavia, a town of considerable strength, well-garrisoned, and defended by Leyva, one of the bravest officers in the Spanish service. Every attempt, which the French king made to gain this important place, proved fruitless. He battered the walls, and made breaches; but by the vigilance of Leyva, new retrenchments were instantly thrown up behind the breaches: He attempted to divert the course of the Tesin, which ran by one side of the city, and defended it; but an inundation of the river destroyed in one night all the mounds which the soldiers, during a long time, and with infinite pains, had been erecting. Fatigue and the bad season (for it was now the depth of winter) had wasted the French army. And the more to diminish its force, Francis, at the pope's sollicitation, who now declared, almost openly, for him, had detached a considerable body, under the duke of Albany, to invade the kingdom of Naples. The imperial generals mean while were not idle. Pescara and Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, gathered forces from all quarters. Bourbon, having pawned his jewels for money, went into Germany, and by his personal interest, levied twelve thousand Lansquenets, with which he joined the imperialists. This army was advancing to raise the siege of Pavia; and the danger to the French became every day more imminent.

The state of Europe was such, during that age, that, partly from the want of commerce and industry every where, except in Italy and the Low Countries, partly from the extensive privileges still possessed by the people in all the great monarchies, and their frugal maxims in granting money, the revenues of the princes were extremely narrow, and even the small armies, which they kept on foot, could not be regularly paid by them. The imperial forces, commanded by Bourbon, Pescara, and Lannoy, exceeded not twenty thousand men; they were the only body of troops maintained by the emperor (for he had not been able to levy any army for the invasion of France, either on the side of Spain or Flanders). Yet so poor was that mighty monarch, that he could transmit no money for the payment of this army; and it was chiefly the hopes of sharing the plunder of the French camp, which had made them advance, and kept them to their standards. Had Francis raised the siege before their approach, and retired to Milan, they must immediately have dispe••t themselves; and he had obtained a compleat victory, without danger or bloodshed. But it was the character of this monarch, to become obstinate in proportion to the difficulties which he encountered; and having once said, that he would take Pavia or perish before it, he was resolved rather to endure the utmost extremities than depart from this resolution.

25 February.

Battle of Pavia, and captivity of Francis.

THE imperial generals, after cannonading the French camp for several days, at last gave a general assault, and broke into the entrenchments. Leyva sallied from the town, and threw the besiegers into still greater confusion. The Swiss infantry, contrary to their usual practice, behaved in a dastardly manner, and deserted their post. Francis's whole army was put to rout, and he himself, surrounded by his enemies, after fighting with the most heroic valour, and killing seven men with his own hand, was at last obliged to surrender himself prisoner. Almost the whole army, full of nobility and brave officers, either perished by the sword, or were drowned in the river. The few, who escaped with their lives, fell into the hands of the enemy. The imperial generals had so little authority over their own troops, even after this signal victory, that Lannoy, apprehensive left the Lansquenets should seize Francis as security for the pay due to them, immediately removed him from the camp, and sent him to Pizzighitone. And taking advantage of the terrors, which had seized the pope, the Florentines, the Duke of Ferrara, and other Italian states, he obliged them, tho' secretly enemies, to advance money for the subsistence of his army.

THE emperor received this news by Pennalosa, who passed thro' France, by means of a safe-conduct, which he received from the captive King. The moderation, which he displayed on this occasion, had it been real, would have done him great honour. Instead of rejoicing, he expressed sympathy with Francis's ill fortune, and discovered his sense of those calamities, to which the greatest monarchs are exposed[*]. He refused the city of Madrid permission to make any public expressions of triumph; and said that he reserved all his exultation till he should be able to obtain some victory over the infidels. He sent orders to his frontier garrisons to commit to hostilities upon France. He spoke of concluding immediately a peace on reasonable terms. But all this seeming equity was only hypocrisy, so much the more dangerous, that it was profound. And his sole occupation was the forming schemes, how, from this great incident, he might draw the utmost advantage, and gratify that exorbitant ambition, by which, in all his actions, he was wholly governed.

THE same Pennalosa, in passing thro' France, carried also a letter from Francis to his mother, whom he had left regent, and who then resided at Lyons. It contained only these few words, Madam, all is lost, except our honour. The princess was struck with the greatness of the calamity. She saw the kingdom without a sovereign, without an army, without generals, without money; surrounded on every hand by implacable and victorious enemies: And her sole resource, in her present distresses, was the hope, which she entertained, of peace and even of assistance from the King of England.

HAD the King entered into the war against France from any concerted political views, it is evident, that the victory of Pavia, and the captivity of Francis, were the most fortunate incidents which could have befallen him, and the only ones which could render his schemes effectual. While the war was carried on in the former feeble manner, without any decisive advantage, he might have been able to possess himself of some frontier towns, or perhaps of a small territory, which he could not keep possession of, without expending much more than its value. By some great calamity alone, which annihilated the power of France, could he hope to acquire the dominion of considerable provinces, or dismember that mighty monarchy, so affectionate to its own government and its own sovereigns. But as it is probable, that Henry had never before carried his reflections so far; he was startled at this important event, and became sensible of his own danger, as well as that of all Europe, from the loss of a proper counterpoise to the great power of Charles.
Henry embraces the alliance of France.

Instead of taking advantage, therefore, of the distressed condition of France, he was determined to lend her his assistance in her present calamities; and as the glory of generosity, in raising a fallen enemy, concurred with his political interests, he hesitated the less in embracing these new measures.

SOME disgusts also had previously taken place between Charles and Henry, and still more between Charles and Wolsey; and that powerful minister waited only a favourable opportunity of revenging the disappointments, which he had met with. The behaviour of Charles, immediately after the victory of Pavia, gave him occasion to revive the King's jealousy and suspicions of his ally. The emperor supported so ill the appearance of moderation, which he at first assumed, that he had already changed his usual stile to Henry; and instead of writing to him with his own hand, and subscribing himself your affectionate son and cousin; he dictated his letters to his secretary, and simply subscribed himself Charles [†]. Wolsey also perceived a diminution in the caresses and professions, with which the emperor's letters to him were usually loaded, and this last imprudence, proceeding from the intoxication of success, was probably more dangerous to Charles's interests than the other.

HENRY, tho' determined to embrace new measures, was careful to save appearances in the change; and he caused rejoicings to be every where made on account of the victory of Pavia, and the captivity of Francis. He publicly dismissed a French envoy, whom he had formerly allowed, notwithstanding the war, to reside at London[‡]: But upon the regent's submissive applications to him, he again opened a correspondence with her; and besides assuring her of his friendship and protection, he exacted a promise, that she never would consent to the dismembering any province of the monarchy for her son's ransom. With the emperor, however, he put on the appearance of vigour and enterprize; and in order to have a pretence for breaking with him, he dispatched Tonstal, bishop of London, to Madrid, with proposals for a powerful invasion of France. He required, that Charles should immediately enter Guienne at the head of a great army, in order to put him in possession of that province; and he demanded the payment of large sums of money, which that prince had borrowed from him in his last visit at London. He knew, that the emperor was in no condition of executing either of these conditions; and that he had as little inclination to make him master of such considerable territories upon the frontiers of Spain.

TONSTAL likewise informed him, that Charles, on his part, wanted not complaints against England; and in particular was displeased with Henry, because last year he had neither continued his monthly payments to Bourbon, nor invaded Picardy, according to his stipulations; that, instead of expressing his intentions to espouse Mary, when she should be marriageable, he had hearkened to proposals, for marrying his niece Isabella, princess of Portugal; and that he had entered into a separate treaty with Francis, and seemed determined to reap alone all the advantages of the success, with which fortune had crowned his arms.

30 August.

THE King, influenced by all these motives, concluded at Moore his alliance with the regent, and engaged to procure Francis his liberty on reasonable conditions[*]: The regent also, in another treaty, acknowledged the kingdom to be Henry's debtor for one million eight hundred thousand crowns, to be discharged in half yearly payments of fifty thousand crowns: After which, Henry was to receive during his own life, a yearly pension of a hundred thousand crowns▪ Notwithstanding his generosity, he could not for bear taking advantage of the calamitous situation of France, in order to exact this lucrative condition from her. A large present of a hundred thousand crowns was also made Wolsey, for his good offices, but covered under the pretence of arrears due on the pension granted him for relinquishing the administration of Tournay.

MEANWHILE, as Henry foresaw, that this treaty with France might involve him in a war with the emperor, he was also determined to fill his treasury by impositions upon his own subjects; and as the parliament had discovered some reluctance in complying with his demands, he followed the advice of Wolsey, and resolved to make use of his prerogative alone for that purpose. He issued out commissions to all the counties of England, for levying four shillings in the pound from the clergy, three shillings and four pence from the laity; and so uncontroulable did he deem his authority, that he took no care to cover, as formerly, this arbitrary exaction, even under the slender pretence of a loan.
Discontents of the English.

But he soon found, that he had presumed too far on the passive submission of his subjects. The people, displeased with an exaction beyond what was usually levied in those days, but still more disgusted with the illegal method of imposing it, broke out in murmurs, complaints, opposition to the commissioners; and their refractory disposition even threatened a general insurrection. Henry had the prudence to stop short, in that dangerous path, into which he had entered. He sent letters to all the counties; declaring, that he meant no force by this last imposition, and that he would take nothing of his subjects but by way of benevolence. He flattered himself, that his condescension in employing that disguise would satisfy the people, and that no one would dare to render himself obnoxious to royal authority, by refusing any payment required of him in this manner. But the spirit of opposition was once roused, and could not so easily be quieted at pleasure. A lawyer in the city objecting the statute of Richard the third, by which benevolences were for ever abolished, it was replied by the court, that Richard being an usurper, and his Parliaments factious assemblies, his statutes could not bind a lawful and absolute monarch, who held his crown by hereditary right, and needed not to court the favour of a licentious populace[†]. The judges even went so far as to affirm positively, that the King might exact by commission any sum which he pleased; and the privy council gave a ready assent to this decree, which annihilated the most valuable privilege of the people, and rendered all their other privileges precarious. Armed with such formidable authority, of royal prerogative and a pretext of law, Wolsey sent for the mayor of London, and desired to know what he was willing to give for the supply of his majesty's necessities. The mayor seemed desirous, before he should declare himself, to consult the common council; but the cardinal required, that he and all the aldermen should separately confer with himself about the benevolence; and he eluded by that means the danger of formed opposition. Matter, however, went not so smoothly in the country. An insurrection was begun in some places; but as the people were not headed by any considerable person, it was easy for the duke of Suffolk, and the earl of Surrey, now duke of Norfolk, by employing persuasion and authority, to induce the ringleaders to lay down their arms, and surrender themselves prisoners. The king, finding it dangerous to punish criminals, engaged in so popular a cause, was determined, notwithstanding his violent, imperious temper, to grant them a general pardon; and he very prudently imputed their guilt, not to their want of loyalty or affection, but to their poverty. The offenders were brought before the star-chamber; where, after a severe charge laid against them by the King's council, the cardinal said, "That, notwithstanding their grievous offences, the King, in consideration of their necessities, had granted them his gracious pardon, upon condition, that they would give in sureties for their future good behaviour." But they replying, that they had no sureties, the cardinal first, and after him the duke of Norfolk, said, that they would stand bound for them. Upon which they were discharged[‡].

THESE arbitrary impositions, being generally imputed to the cardinal's counsels, increased the general odium, under which he laboured; and the clemency of the pardon, being ascribed to the King, was considered as an atonement on his part for the illegality of the measure. But Wolsey, supported both by royal and papal authority, proceeded, without scruple, to violate all ecclesiastical privileges, which, during that age, were much more sacred than civil; and having once prevailed in that unusual attempt of suppressing some monasteries, he kept all the rest in awe, and exercised over them the most arbitrary jurisdiction. By his commission as legate, he was impowered to visit them, and reform them, and chastise their irregularities; and he employed his usual agent, Allen, in the exercise of this authority. The religious houses were obliged to compound for their guilt, real or pretended, by giving large sums to the cardinal or his deputy; and this oppression was carried so far, that it reached at last the King's ears, which were not commonly open to complaints against his favourite. He reproved Wolsey in severe terms, which rendered him, if not more innocent, at least more cautious for the future. That haughty minister had built a splendid palace at Hampton court, which he probably intended, as well as that of York place in Westminster, minister, for his own use; but fearing the increase of envy on account of this magnificence, and desirous to appease the King, he made him a present of that building, and told him, that, from the first, he had erected it for his service.

THE absolute authority, possessed by the King, rendered his domestic government, both over his people and his ministers, easy and expeditious: The conduct of foreign affairs alone required effort and application; and they were now brought to such a pass, that it was no longer safe for England to be entirely neutral. The feigned moderation of the emperor was of very short date; and it was soon obvious to all the world, that his great dominions, far from gratifying his ambition, were only regarded as the means of acquiring an empire more extensive. The terms, proposed by him to his prisoner, were such as must have for ever annihilated the power of France, and destroyed the ballance of Europe. He required, that that monarch should restore to him the dutchy of Burgundy, usurped, as he pretended, by Lewis the eleventh upon his ancestors; that he should yield Provence and Dauphiny to the duke of Bourbon, to be possessed by him in full sovereignty, without fief or homage to the crown of France; that he should satisfy the King of England with regard to the provinces, which that prince claimed as his inheritance; and that he should renounce all title to Naples, Milan, Genoa, or any territory in Italy[*].

THESE demands were proposed to Francis, soon after the battle of Pavia, while he was detained in Pizzighitone; and as he had hitherto trusted somewhat to the emperor's generosity, the disappointment excited in his breast the most lively indignation. He said, that he would rather live and die a prisoner than agree to dismember, his kingdom; and that, even were he so base as to submit to such terms, his subjects would never permit him to carry them into execution. The offers which he made for obtaining his liberty, were, that he would renounce all claims in Italy, that he would assist the emperor in recovering the territories usurped upon the empire by the Venetians, that he should relinquish the homage due by the emperor for Artois and Flanders, that he would marry Eleonora, the emperor's sister, (for he was now a widower) and acknowledge the dutchy of Burgundy to be possessed as her dowry; and to be inherited by her children[†].

FRANCIS was encouraged to persist in these offers, by the favourable accounts, which he heard of Henry's dispositions towards him, and of the alarms which had seized all the chief powers in Italy, upon his defeat and captivity.
Francis removed to Madrid.

He was uneasy, however, to be so far distant from the emperor with whom he must treat; and he desired to be removed to Madrid, in hopes that a personal interview would operate much in his favour, and that Charles, if not influenced by his ministers, might be found possessed of the same frankness of disposition; by which he himself was distinguished. He was soon convinced of his mistake. The emperor, under pretence of an assembly of the states at Toledo, kept, during some time, at a distance from him; and even after they broke up, delayed his visit to the captive King; feigning a del•cacy in that particular, as if his company, in the present situation of affairs, before any terms were agreed on, would be regarded as an insult upon the royal prisoner. Francis, partly from want of exercise, partly from reflections on his present melancholy situation, fell into a languishing illness; which begot apprehensions in Charles, left the death of his captive should bereave him of all those advantages, which he proposed to extort from him. He then paid him a visit in the castle of Madrid; and as he approached the bed in which Francis was laid, the sick monarch called to him, "You come, Sir, to visit your prisoner." "No," replied the emperor, "I come to visit my brother, and my friend, who shall soon obtain his liberty." He soothed his affliction with many speeches of a like nature, which had so good an effect, that the King daily recovered[‡]; and thenceforth employed himself in concerting with the ministers of the emperor, the terms of his treaty.

WHILE this negociation advanced slowly, fortune threw into the emperor's hands a new opportunity of aggrandizing his dominions in Italy. Francis Sforza, impatient that his investiture of Milan should so long be delayed, and that even after it was granted, it should be encumbered with many exorbitant conditions, had endeavoured to seduce Pescara, the imperial general, from his fidelity, and to engage him in a conspiracy against his master. Pescara feigned to enter into the design; but having revealed the whole contrivance, he received orders to take possession of the Milanese; and Charles made no secret of his intention to try Sforza and forfeit his fief, on account of the treason, which he had committed against his liege-lord and sovereign[*]. This incident retained the Italian powers in closer union with France; and the emperor, by grasping too much, found himself in danger of losing all his advantages. His apprehensions were increased, when he heard, that Francis had sent a resignation of his crown to the re•ent, and had desired that the dauphin might be crowned King; orders, which, tho' they were not obeyed, shewed his determined resolution never to submit to the unreasonable t•rms required of him. The chief difficulty of the treaty was now reduced to the dutchy of Burgundy; and even that territory, Francis had agreed to yield, but he still insisted on first recovering his liberty. All mutual confidence was lost between the princes; and each feared, le•t advantage should be taken of his simplicity, should he first execute his part of the treaty.

14 January.

AT last the emperor was willing to relax of his rigour in this particular; and the treaty of Madrid was signed, by which, it was hoped, an end would be finally put to the differences between these two great monarchs. The principal condition was the restoring of Francis's liberty, and the delivery of his two eldest sons as hostages to the emperor for the restitution of Burgundy: If any difficulty should afterwards occur in the execution of this article, with regard to Burgundy, from the opposition of the states, either of France or of that province, Francis stipulated, that in six weeks time, he should return to his prison, and remain there till the full performance of the treaty. There were many other articles in this famous convention, all of them rigorous and severe to the last degree against the captive monarch; and Charles discovered evidently his intention of reducing Italy, as well as France, to subjection and dependence.

MANY of Charles's ministers foresaw, that Francis, however solemn the oaths, promises, and protestations exacted of him, never would execute a treaty, which was so disadvantageous, or rat•er ruinous and destructive, to himself, his posterity, and his country. By putting Burgundy into the emperor's hands, he gave his powerful enemy an entrance into the heart of the kingdom: By sacrificing his allies in Italy, he deprived himself of all foreign assistance; and arming his oppressor with the whole force and riches of that opulent country, rendered him absolutely irresistable. To these great views of interest, were added the motives, no less cogent, of passion and resentment; while Francis, a prince, who piqued himself on generosity, reflected on the rigor with which he had been treated during his captivity, and the cruel terms which had been exacted of him for the recovery of his freedom. It was also foreseen, that the emulation and rivalship, which had so long subsisted between these two monarchs, would make him feel the strongest reluctance on yielding the superiority to an antagonist, who, by the whole tenor of his conduct, he would be apt to think, had shown himself •o little worthy of that advantage, which fortune, and fortune alone, had put into his hands. His ministers, his friends, his subjects, his allies, with one voice, would be sure to suggest to him, that the first object of a prince, was the preservation of his people; and that the laws of honour, which with a private man ought to be absolutely supreme, and superior to all interests, were with a sovereign subordinate to the great duty of ensuring the safety of his country. Nor could it be imagined, that Francis would be so romantic in his principles, as not to hea•ken to a casui••ry, which was so plausible in itself, and which so much flattered all the passions, by which, both as a prince and a man, he was strongly actuated.

SUCH was the reasoning of several of Charles's ministers, particularly of Gattinara, his chancellor[*], who counselled him to treat Francis with more generosity, and to give him his liberty on such terms, as would engage him, not by the feeble band of treaties, but by the more forcible tye of honour, to a strict and faithful performance. But the emperor's avidity prevented him from following this wiser and more honourable council; at the same time, that the prospect of a general combination of Europe hindered him from detaining Francis in captivity, and taking advantage of the confusions, which his absence must necessarily occasion in his kingdom. Still suspicious, however, of the sincerity of his prisoner, he took an opportunity, before they parted, of asking him, privately and as a friend, whether he seriously intended to execute the treaty of Madrid; protesting, that, in all cases, he was firmly determined to restore him to his liberty, and that the prospect of obtaining this advantage needed no longer engage him to dissemble. Francis was too well acquainted with Charles's character to trust to the sincerity of this protestation; and therefore renewed his assurances of fidelity, and a strict observance of his word. The emperor replied, that Francis was now his best friend and ally; but if he should afterwards break his engagements, which he could not suspect, he should think himself entitled to reproach him with a conduct so base and unworthy: And on these terms the two monarchs parted.

18th March.

Francis recovers his liberty.

FRANCIS, on entering into his own dominions, delivered his two eldest sons as hostages into the hands of the Spaniards. He mounted a Turkish horse, and immediately putting him to the gallop, he waved his hand over his head, and cried aloud several times, I am yet a King. He soon reached Bayonne, where he was joyfully received by the regent and his whole court. He immediately wrote to Henry; acknowledging that to his good offices alone he owed his liberty, and protesting, that he should be entirely governed by his councils in all transactions with the emperor. When the Spanish envoy demanded his ratification of the treaty of Madrid, now that he had fully recovered his liberty, he waved the proposal; under colour, that it was necessary to assemble previously the States both of France and of Burgundy, and obtain their consent. The States of Burgundy soon met; and declaring against the clause, which contained an engagement of alienating their province, they expressed their resolution of opposing, even by force of arms, the execution of so ruinous and unjust an article. The imperial minister then required, that Francis, in conformity to the treaty of Madrid, should now return to his prison;
22d May.

but the French monarch, instead of compliance, made public the treaty, which, a little before, he had secretly concluded at Cognac, against the ambitious schemes and usurpations of the emperor[*].

THE pope, the Venetians, and other Italian states, who were deeply interested in these events, had been held in the most anxious suspence with regard to the resolutions, which Francis should take, after the recovery of his liberty; and Clement, who suspected, that that prince would never execute a treaty so hurtful to his interests, and even destructive of his independancy, had very frankly offered him a dispensation from all his oaths and engagements. Francis remained not in suspence; but entered immediately into the confederacy proposed to him. It was stipulated, between that King, the pope, the Venetians, the Swiss, the Florentines, the duke of Milan, among other articles, that they would oblige the emperor to deliver up the two young princes of France on receiving a suitable sum of money; and that he would restore Milan to Sforza, without farther conditions or incumbrances. The King of England was invited to accede, not only as a contracting party, but also as protector of the holy league, so it was called: And if Naples should be conquered from the emperor, in prosecution of this confederacy, it was agreed, that Henry should enjoy a principality of the yearly revenue of 30,000 ducats: And that cardinal Wolsey, in consideration of the services, which he had rendered to christendom, should also, in such an event, be put in possession of a yearly revenue of 10,000 ducats.

FRANCIS was extremely desirous, that the appearance of this great confederacy should engage the emperor to relax somewhat of the extreme rigour of the treaty of Madrid; and while he entertained these hopes, he was the more remiss in his warlike preparations, nor did he send in due time reinforcements to his allies in Italy. Bourbon had got possession of the whole Milanese, of which the emperor intended to grant him the investiture; and having levied a considerable army in Germany, he became formidable to all the Italian potentates; and not the less so, that Charles, destitute of money, had not been able to remit any pay to the forces. The general was extremely beloved by his troops; and in order to prevent those mutinies which were ready to break out every moment, and which their affection alone for him had hitherto restrained, he led them to Rome, and promised to enrich them by the plunder of that opulent city.
6th May.

He was himself killed, as he was planting a ladder to scale the walls;
Sack of Rome.

but his soldiers, rather enraged than discouraged by his death, mounted to the assault with the utmost valour, and entering the city, sword in hand, exercised all those brutalities, which may be expected from ferocity excited by resistance, and from insolence which takes place when that resistance is no more. That renowned city, exposed by her renown alone to so many calamities, never endured in any age, even from the barbarians, by whom she was often subdued, such indignities as she was now constrained to suffer. The unrestrained massacre and pillage, which continued for several days, were the least ills, to which the unhappy Romans were exposed[*]. Whatever was respectable in modesty or sacred in religion seemed but the more to provoke the insults of the soldiery. Virgins suffered violation in the arms of their parents, and upon those very altars, to which they had fled for protection. Aged prelates, after enduring every indignity, and even every torture, were thrown into dungeons, and menaced each moment with the most cruel death, in order to engage them to reveal their secret treasures, or purchase liberty by exorbitant ransoms. Clement himself, who had trusted for protection to the sacredness of his character, and neglected to make his escape in time, was taken captive, and found that his dignity, which procured him no regard from the Spanish soldiers, did but draw on him the insolent moquery of the German, who, being generally attached to the Lutheran principles, were pleased to gratify their animosity by the abasement of the sovereign pontiff.

WHEN intelligence of this great event was conveyed to the emperor, that young prince, habituated to hypocrisy, expressed the most profound sorrow for the success of his arms: He put himself and all his court into mourning: He stopped the rejoicings for the birth of his son Philip: And knowing that every artifice, however gross, is able, when seconded by authority, to impose upon the people, he ordered prayers, during several months, to be put up in all the churches for the Pope's liberty; an event, which, all men knew, a letter under his hand could in a moment have procured.

THE concern, expressed by Henry and Francis for the calamity of their ally, was much more sincere. These two monarchs, a few days before the sack of Rome, had concluded a treaty[†]at Westminster, in which, besides renewing former alliances, they agreed to send ambassadors to Charles, requiring him to accept of two millions of crowns as the ransom of the French princes, and to repay the money, borrowed of Henry; and in case of refusal, the ambassadors, attended with heralds, were to denounce war against him. This war, it was agreed to prosecute in the Low Countries, with an army of thirty thousand infantry and fifteen hundred men at arms, two thirds to be supplied by Francis, the rest by Henry. And in order to strengthen the alliance between the princes, it was stipulated, that either Francis or his son, the duke of Orleans, as should afterwards be agreed on, should espouse the princess Mary, Henry's daughter.
29th May.

No sooner did the monarchs receive intelligence of Bourbon's enterprize, than they changed, by a new treaty, the scene of the projected war from the Netherlands to Italy; and hearing of the pope's captivity, they were farther stimulated to undertake the war with vigour for the restoring his liberty. Wolsey himself crossed the seas, in order to have an interview with Francis, and to concert measures for that purpose;
11th July.

and he displayed all that grandeur and magnificence, with which he was intoxicated. He was attended with a train of a thousand horse. The cardinal of Lorraine, and the chancellor Alançon, met him at Boulogne: Francis himself, besides granting to that haughty prelate the power of giving in every place, where he came, liberty to all prisoners, made a journey as far as Amiens to meet him, and even advanced some miles from the town, the more to honour his reception. It was here stipulated, that the duke of Orleans should espouse the princess Mary; and as the emperor seemed to be taking some steps towards assembling a general council, the two monarchs agreed not to acknowledge it, but, during the interval of the pope's captivity, to govern the churches in their dominions, each by his own authority. Wolsey made some attempts to get his legantine power extended into France, and even into Germany; but finding his efforts fruitless, he was obliged, tho' with great reluctance, to desist from these ambitious enterprizes[‡].

18th September.

THE more to cement the union between these princes, a new treaty was, some time after, concluded at London; in which Henry agreed to renounce for ever all claims upon the crown of France; claims, which might now indeed be esteemed chimerical, but which often served as a pretence for exciting the unwary English to wage war upon the French monarchy.
League with France.

As a return for this concession, Francis bound himself and his successors to pay for ever fifty thousand crowns a year to Henry and his successors; and that a greater solemnity might be given to this treaty, it was agreed, that the Parliaments and great nobility of both kingdoms should give their consent to it. The mareschal Montmorency, accompanied with many persons of distinction, and attended by a pompous equipage, was sent over to ratify the treaty; and was received at London with all the parade, which suited the solemnity of the occasion. The terror of the emperor's greatness had entirely extinguished the antient animosity between the nations; and Spain, during more than a century, became, tho' a more distant power, the chief object of jealousy to the English.

THIS appearance of a cordial union between France and England, tho' it added influence to the joint embassy which they sent to the emperor, was not able to bend that ambitious monarch to submit entirely to the conditions insisted on by the allies. He departed indeed from his demand of Burgundy as the ransom of the French princes; but he required, previously to their recovery of liberty, that Francis should evacuate Genoa, and all the fortresses held by him in Italy: And he declared his intention of bringing Sforza to a trial, and confiscating the dutchy of Milan, on account of his pretended treason. The English and French heralds, therefore, according to agreement, declared war against him, and set him at defiance. Charles answered the English herald with moderation; but to the French, he reproached his master with breach of faith, remembered him of the private conversation which had passed between them at Madrid before their separation, and offered to prove by single combat, that that monarch had acted dishonourably. Francis retaliated this challenge by giving Charles the lie; and, after demanding security of the field, he offered to maintain his cause by single combat. Many messages passed to and fro between them; but tho' both the princes were undoubtedly brave, the intended duel never took place. The French and Spaniards, during that age, disputed zealously which of the monarchs incurred the blame of this failure; but all men of moderation every where lamented the power of fortune, that the prince the more candid, generous, and sincere, should, by unhappy incidents, have been reduced to that cruel situation, that nothing but the breach of his word could preserve his people, and that he must ever after, without being able to make a proper reply, bear to be reproached with this infidelity by a rival, inferior to him both in honour and in virtue.

BUT tho' this famous challenge between Charles and Francis had no immediate consequences with regard to these monarchs themselves, it produced a considerable alteration on the manners of the age. The practice of challenges and duels, which had been part of the antient barbarous jurisprudence, which was still preserved on very solemn occasions, and which was even countenanced by the civil magistrate, began thenceforth to prevail on the most trivial occasions; and men, on any affront or injury, thought themselves entitled, or even required in honour, to take private revenges on their enemies, by vindicating their right in single combat. These absurd, tho' generous maxims, shed much of the best blood in christendom during more than two centuries; and notwithstanding the severity of law, such is the prevailing force of custom, they are far from being as yet entirely exploded.

CHAP. IV.

Scruples concerning the King's marriage.—The King enters into these scruples.—Anne Boleyn.—Henry applies to the pope for a divorce.—The pope favourable.—The emperor threatens him.—The pope's ambiguous conduct.—The cause evoked to Rome.—Wolsey's fall.—Commencement of the reformation in England.—Foreign affairs.—Wolsey's death.—A Parliament.—Progress of the reformation.—A Parliament.—King's final breach with Rome.—A Parliament.

Scruples concerning the King's marriage.

NOtwithstanding the submissive deference, paid to the papal authority before the reformation, the marriage of Henry the eighth with Catherine of Arragon, his brother's widow, had not passed, without much scruple and difficulty. The prejudices of the people were in general bent against a conjugal union between such near relations; and the late King, tho' he had solemnized the espousals, when his son was but twelve years of age, gave evident proofs of his intention to take afterwards a proper opportunity of annulling them[*]. He ordered the young prince, so soon as he came of age, to enter a protestation against the marriage[†]; and on his death-bed he charged him, as his last injunction, not to finish an alliance, so unusual and exposed to such insuperable objections. After the King's accession, some members of the Privy Council, particularly Warham, the primate, openly declared against the resolution taken, of compleating the marriage; and tho' Henry's youth and dissipation kept him, during some time, from entertaining any scruples with regard to the measure which he had embraced, there happened incidents, sufficient to rouze his attention, and to inform him of the sentiments, generally entertained on that subject. The states of Castile had opposed the emperor, Charles's, espousals with Mary, Henry's daughter; and among other objections, had much insisted on the illegitimate birth of the young princess[‡]. And when the negotiations were afterwards opened with France, and mention was made of betrothing her to Francis or the duke of Orleans, the bishop of Tarbe, the French ambassador, revived the same objection[*]. But tho' these events naturally raised some doubts in Henry's mind, there concurred other causes, which tended much to fortify his remorse, and render his conscience more scrupulous.

The King enters into these scruples.

THE queen was older than the King by no less than six years; and the decay of her beauty, together with particular infirmities and diseases, had contributed, notwithstanding her blameless character and deportment, to render her person unacceptable to him. Tho' she had borne him several children, they all died in early infancy, except one daughter; and he was the more struck with this misfortune, that the curse of being childless is the very threatening, contained in the Mosaical law against those who espouse their brother's widow. The King was actuated by a strong desire of having male issue: With a view to that end, it is believed, more than from desire towards other gratification, he had, a few years before this period, made addresses to a young lady, Catherine, daughter of Sir John Blount; and when she bore him a son, he expressed the highest satisfaction, and immediately created him duke of Richmond. The succession of the crown too was a consideration, that occurred to every one, whenever the lawfulness of Henry's marriage was questioned; and it was apprehended, that, if doubts of Mary's legitimacy concurred with the weakness of her sex, the King of Scots, the next heir, would certainly advance his own pretensions, and throw the kingdom into confusion. The evils, as yet recent, of civil wars and convulsions, arising from a disputed title, made great impression on the minds of men, and rendered the people universally desirous of any event, which might obviate so irreparable a calamity. And the King was thus impelled, both by his private passions, and by motives of public interest, to seek the dissolution of his inauspicious, and, as it was esteemed, unlawful marriage with Catherine.

HENRY afterwards affirmed, that his scruples of conscience arose entirely from private reflection; and that on consulting his confessor, the bishop of Lincoln, he found that prelate possessed with the same doubts and difficulties. The King himself, being so great a casuist and a divine, proceeded then to examine the question more carefully by his own learning and study; and having had recourse to Thomas of Aquine, he observed that this celebrated doctor, whose authority was great in the church and absolute with him, had treated of that very case, and had expressly declared against the lawfulness of such marriages[†]. The prohibitions, said Thomas, contained in Leviticus, and among the rest, that of marrying a brother's widow, are moral, eternal, and founded on a divine sanction; and tho' the pope may dispense with the rules of the church, the laws of God cannot be set aside by any authority less than that which enacted them. The archbishop of Canterbury was next applied to; and he was required to consult his brethren: All the prelates of England, except Fisher, bishop of Rochester, declared unanimously, under their hand and seal, that they deemed the King's marriage unlawful[*]. Wolsey also fortified the King's scruples[†], partly with a view of promoting a total breach with the emperor, Catherine's nephew, partly desirous of connecting the King more closely with Francis, by marrying him to the dutchess of Alençon, sister to that monarch; and perhaps too somewhat disgusted with the queen herself, who had reproved him for certain freedoms, unbefitting his character and station[‡]. But Henry was carried forward, tho' perhaps not at first excited, by a motive more forcible than even the suggestions of that powerful favourite.

Anne Boleyn.

ANNE Boleyn, who lately appeared at court, had been created maid of honour to the queen; and having had frequent opportunities of being seen by the King, and of conversing with him, she had acquired an entire ascendant over his affections. This young lady, whose grandeur and misfortunes have rendered her so celebrated, was daughter to Sir Thomas Boleyn, who had been employed by the King in several embassies, and who was allied to all the principal nobility of the kingdom. His wife, mother to Anne, was daughter of the duke of Norfolk; his own mother was daughter of the earl of Ormond; his grandfather Sir Geoffrey Boleyn, who had been mayor of London, had espoused one of the daughters and co-heirs of the lord Hastings[§]. Anne herself, tho' then in very early youth, had been carried over to Paris by the King's sister, when she espoused Lewis the twelfth of France; and upon the decease of that monarch, and the return of his dowager into England, Anne, whose accomplishments even in her tender years were always much admired, was retained in the service of Claude, queen of France, spouse to Francis; and after her death, she passed into the family of the dutchess of Alançon, a princess of singular merit. The exact time, when she returned to England, is not certainly known; but it was after the King had entertained doubts with regard to the lawfulness of his marriage with Catherine; if the account is to be credited, which he himself afterwards gave of that transaction. Henry's scruples had made him break off all conjugal commerce with the queen; but as he still supported an intercourse of civility and freindship with her, he had occasion, in the visits, which he paid her, to observe the beauty, the youth, the charms of Anne Boleyn. Finding the accomplishments of her mind no way inferior to her exterior graces, he even entertained the design of raising her to the throne; and was the more confirmed in this resolution, when he found that her virtue and modesty prevented all hopes of gratifying his passion after any other manner. And as every motive of inclination and policy, seemed thus to concur in making the King desirous of a divorce from Catherine, and as his prospect of success was inviting, he resolved to make applications to Clement, and he sent Knight, his secretary, to Rome for that purpose.

Henry applies to the pope for a divorce.

THAT he might not shock the haughty claims of the pontiff, it was resolved not to found the application on any general doubts of the papal power to permit marriage in the nearer degrees of consanguinity; but only to insist on particular grounds of invalidity in the bull, which Julius had granted for the marriage of Henry and Catherine. It was a maxim in the court of Rome, that, if the pope be surprized into any concession, or grant any indulgence upon false suggestions, the bull may afterwards be annulled; and this pretence had usually been employed, wherever one pope had recalled any deed, executed by any of his predecessors. But Julius's bull, when examined, afforded plentiful matter of this kind; and any tribunal, favourable to Henry, needed not want a specious colour for gratifying him in his applications for a divorce. It was said in the preamble, that the bull had been granted upon his sollicitation; tho' it was known, that, at that time, he was below twelve years of age: It was also affirmed, as another motive for the bull, that the marriage was requisite, in order to preserve peace between the two crowns; tho' it is certain, that there was not then any ground or appearance of quarrel between them. These false premises in Julius's bull, seemed to afford Clement a sufficient reason or pretence for annulling it, and granting Henry a dispensation for a second marriage[‡].

The pope favourable.

BUT tho' the pretext for this indulgence had been less plausible, the pope was in such a situation, that he had the strongest motive to embrace every opportunity of gratifying the English monarch. He was then a prisoner in the hands of the emperor, and had no hopes of recovering his liberty on any reasonable terms, unless by the efforts of the league, which Henry had formed with Francis and the Italian powers, in order to oppose the exorbitant ambition of Charles. When the English Secretary, therefore, made private applications to him, he received a very favourable answer; and a dispensation was forthwith promised to be expeded to his master[*]. Soon after, the march of a French army into Italy, under the command of Lautrec, obliged the imperialists to give Clement his liberty; and he retired to Orvietto, where the Secretary, with Sir Gregory Cussali, the King's resident at Rome, renewed their applications to him. They found him still full of high professions of friendship, gratitude, and attachment to the King; but not so expeditious in granting his request as they expected. The emperor, who had got intelligence of Henry's application to Rome, had exacted a promise of the pope, to take no steps in that affair before he communicated them to the imperial ministers; and Clement, confined by this promise, and still more overawed by the emperor's forces in Italy, seemed willing to postpone those concessions desired of him by Henry. Importuned, however, by the English ministers, he at last put into their hands a commission to Wolsey, as legate, in conjunction with the archbishop of Canterbury, or any other English prelate, to examine the validity of the King's marriage, and of Julius's dispensation[†]: He also granted them a provisional dispensation for the King's marriage with any other person; and promised soon to expede a decretal bull, annulling the marriage with Catherine. But he represented to them the dangerous consequences, which must ensue to him, if these concessions should come to the emperor's knowledge; and he conjured them not to publish those papers, or make any further use of them, till his affairs were in such a situation as to secure his liberty and independance. And his secret advice was, whenever they should find the proper time of opening the scene, that they should prevent all opposition, by proceeding immediately to a conclusion, by declaring the marriage with Catherine invalid, and by Henry's instantly espousing some other person. Nor would it be so difficult, he said, for himself to confirm these proceedings, after they were passed, as previously to render them valid, by his consent and authority[‡].

WHEN Henry received the commission and dispensation from his ambassadors, and was informed of the pope's advice, he laid the whole matter before his ministers, and asked their opinion in so delicate a situation. The English counsellors considered the danger of proceeding in the manner pointed out to them. Should the pope refuse to confirm a deed, which he might justly call precipitate and irregular, and should he disavow the advice which he gave in so clandestine a manner, the King would find his second marriage totally invalidated; any children, which it might bring him, declared illegitimate; and his marriage with Catherine more firmly rivetted than ever[*]. And Henry's apprehensions of the possibility, or even probability, of such an event, were much confirmed, when he reflected on the character and situation of the sovereign pontiff.

CLEMENT the seventh was a prince of excellent judgment, whenever his timidity, to which he was extremely subject, allowed him to make full use of those talents, and that penetration, with which he was endowed[*]. The captivity, and other misfortunes, which he had undergone, by entering into a league against Charles, had so affected his imagination, that he never afterwards exerted himself with vigour in any public measures, especially if the interests or inclinations of that potentate stood in opposition to him. The imperial forces were, at present, powerful in Italy, and might return to the attack of Rome, which was still defenceless, and exposed to the same calamities with which it had already been overwhelmed. And besides these dangers, Clement found or fancied himself exposed to perils, which threatned, still more immediately, his person and dignity.

The emperor threatens him.

CHARLES, apprized of the timid disposition of the holy father, threw out perpetual menaces of summoning a general council; which, he represented, as necessary to reform the church, and correct those exorbitant abuses, which the ambition and avarice of the court of Rome had introduced into every branch of ecclesiastical administration. The power of Clement himself, he said, the sovereign pontiff, required limitation; his conduct called aloud for amendment; and even his title to the throne, which he filled, might justly be brought in question. That pope had always passed for the natural son of Julian of Medici, who was of the sovereign family of Florence; and tho' Leo the tenth, his cousin, had declared him legitimate, upon a pretended promise of marriage between his father and mother, few persons believed that declaration to be founded on any just reason or authority[†]. The canon law, indeed, had been entirely silent with regard to the promotion of bastards to the papal throne; but, what was still dangerous, the people had entertained a violent prepossession, that that stain in the birth of any person was sufficient to incapacitate him for so holy an office. And in another point, the canon law was express and positive, that no man, guilty of simony, could attain that dignity. A severe bull of Julius the second had added new sanctions to this law, by declaring, that a simoniacal election should not be rendered valid, even by a posterior consent of the cardinals. But unfortunately Clement had given to cardinal Colonna a billet, containing promises of advancing that cardinal, in case he himself should attain the papal dignity by his concurrence: And this billet, Colonna, who was in entire dependance on the emperor, threatned every moment to expose to public view[‡].

WHILE Charles terrified the pope with these menaces, he also allured him by hopes, which were no less prevalent over his affections. At the time that the emperor's forces sacked Rome, and reduced Clement to captivity, the Florentines, passionate for their ancient liberty, had taken advantage of his distresses, and revolting against the family of Medici, had entirely abolished their authority in Florence, and re-established the former democracy. The better to protect themselves in their freedom, they had entered into the alliance with France, England, and Venice, against the emperor; and Clement found, that, by this interest, the hands of his confederates were tied from assisting him in the restoration of his family; the event, which, of all others, he most passionately desired. The emperor alone, he knew, was able to effectuate this purpose; and therefore, whatever professions he made of fidelity to his allies, he was always, on the least glimpse of hope, ready to embrace every proposal of a cordial reconcilement with that monarch[‡].

THESE views and interests of the pope were well known in England; and as the opposition of the emperor was foreseen to Henry's divorce, both on account of the honour and interests of Catherine, his aunt, and the obvious motive of distressing an enemy, it was esteemed dangerous to take any measure of consequence, in expectation of the subsequent concurrence of a man of Clement's character, whose behaviour contained always so much duplicity, and who was at present so little at his own disposal. The safest measure seemed to consist in previously engaging him so far, that he could not afterwards recede, and in making use of his present ambiguity and uncertainty, to extort the most important concessions from him.
10 February.

For this purpose, Stephen Gardiner, the cardinal's secretary, and Edward Fox, the King's almoner, were dispatched to Rome, and were ordered to sollicit a commission from the pope, of such a nature as would oblige him to confirm the sentence of the commissioners, whatever it was, and disable him, on any account, to recall the commission, or evoke the cause to Rome[*].

BUT the same reason which made the King so desirous of obtaining this concession, confirmed the pope in the resolution to refuse it:
The pope's ambiguous conduct.

He was still determined to keep the door open to an agreement with the emperor, and made no scruple of sacrificing all other considerations to a point which he esteemed, of all others, the most important to his own security, and to that of his family. He granted, therefore, a new commission, in which cardinal Campeggio was joined to Wolsey, for the trial of the King's marriage; but he could not be prevailed on to insert the clauses desired of him. And though he put into Gardiner's hands a letter, promising not to recall the present commission; this promise was found, on examination, to be couched in such ambiguous terms, as left him still the power, whenever he pleased, of departing from it[†].

〈…〉 obligations to the King; but his dependence on the pope was so much greater, that he conformed himself entirely to the 〈◊〉 of his holiness▪ and tho' he received his commission in April, he protracted his departure by so many artificial delays, that it was October before he arrived in England. The first step which be took, was to exhort the King to desist from the prosecution of his divorce▪ and finding that this counsel gave great offence, he said, that his intention was also to exhort the queen to enter into a convent, and that he thought it his duty, previously to attempt an amicable composure of all differences[‡]. The more to pacify the King, he shewed to him, as also to the cardinal, the decretal bull, annulling the former marriage with Catherine; but no entreaties could prevail with him to make any other of the King's council privy to the secret‖. In order to atone, in some degree, for this obstinacy, he expressed to the King and the cardinal, the pope's great desire of satisfying them in every reasonable demand; and in particular, he showed, that their request for suppressing some more monastries, and converting them into cathedrals and bishops sees, had obtained the consent of his holiness[*].

THESE ambiguous circumstances in the behaviour of the pope and the legate, kept the court of England in suspence, and determined the King to wait with patience the issue of such uncertain councils. Fortune meanwhile seemed to promise him a more sure and expeditious way of extricating himself from his present difficulties. Clement was seized with a dangerous illness; and the intrigues for electing his successor, began already to take place among the cardinals. Wolsey, in particular, supported by the interests of England and France, entertained hopes of mounting the throne of St. Peter[†]; and it appears, that if a vacancy had then happened, there was a probability of his reaching that summit of his ambition. But the pope recovered his health, tho' after several relapses; and he returned to the same train of false and deceitful politics, by which he had hitherto amused the English court. He still flattered Henry with professions of the most cordial attachment, and promised him a sudden and favourable issue of his process: He still continued his secret negociations with Charles, and persevered in the resolution of sacrificing all his promises, and all the interests of the Romish religion, to the elevation of his family. Campeggio, who was perfectly acquainted with his views and intentions, protracted the decision by the most artificial delays; and gave Clement full leisure to adjust all the terms of his treaty with the emperor.

THE emperor, 〈◊〉 with the King's extreme earnestness in this affair, was determined, that he should obtain success by no other means but by an application to him, and by deserting his alliance with Francis, which had hither•• supported, against the superior force of Spain, the tottering state of the French monarchy. He willingly hearkened, therefore, to the applications of Catherine, his aunt; and promising her his utmost protection, exhorted her never to yield to the malice and persecutions of her enemies. The queen herself was naturally of a firm and resolute temper; and was engaged by every motive to persevere in protesting against the injustice to which she thought herself exposed. The imputation of incest, which was thrown upon her marriage with Henry, struck her with the highest indignation: The illegitimacy of her daughter, which seemed a necessary consequence, gave her the most just concern: The reluctance of yielding to a rival, who, she believed, had supplanted her in the King's affections, was a very natural motive. Actuated by all these considerations, she never ceased solliciting her nephew's assistance, and earnestly entreating an avocation of the cause to Rome, where alone, she thought, she could expect justice. And the emperor, in all his negociations with the pope, made the recall of the commission, which Campeggio and Wolsey exercised in England, a fundamental article[‡].

31 May.

Trial of the King's marriage.

THE two legates, meanwhile, opened their court at London, and cited the King and Queen to appear before it. They both presented themselves; and the King answered to his name, when called: But the Queen, instead of answering, rose from her seat, and throwing herself at the King's feet, made a very pathetic harangue, which her virtue, her dignity, and her misfortunes, rendered the more affecting. She told him, that she was a stranger in his dominions, without protection, without council, without assistance; exposed to all the injustice, which her enemies were pleased to impose upon her: That she had quitted her native country without other resource, than her connexions with him and his family, and had expected, that, instead of suffering thence any violence or iniqu•∣ty, she was assured in them of a safeguard against every misfortune: That she had been his wife during twenty years, and would here appeal to himself, whether her affectionate submission to his will had not merited other treatment, than to be thus, after so long a time, thrown from him with so much indignity: That she was conscious—he himself was assured—that her virgin honour was yet unstained, when he received her into his bed, and that her connections with his brother had been carried no further than the ceremony of marriage: That their parents, the Kings of England and Spain, were esteemed the wisest princes of their time, and had undoubtedly acted by the best council, when they formed the agreement for that marriage, which was now represented as so criminal and unnatural: And that she acquiesced in their judgment, and would not submit her cause to be tried by a court, whose dependance on her enemies was too visible, ever to allow her any hopes of obtaining from them an equitable or impartial decision[*]. Having spoke these words, she rose, and making the King a low reverence, she departed from the court, and never would again appear in it.

AFTER her departure, the King did her the justice to acknowledge, that she had ever been a dutiful and affectionate wife, and that the whole tenor of her behaviour had been conformable to the strictest rules of probity and honour. He only insisted on his own scruples, with regard to the lawfulness of their marriage; and he explained the origin, the progress, and the foundation of those doubts, by which he had been so long and so violently agitated. He acquitted cardinal Wolsey of having any hand in encouraging his scruples; and he begged a sentence of the court, conformable to the justice of his cause.

THE legates, after citing the queen anew to appear before them, declared her contumacious, notwithstanding her appeal to Rome; and then proceeded to the examination of the cause. The first point which came before them, was, the proof of prince Arthur's consummation of his marriage with Catherine; and it must be confessed, that no stronger arguments could reasonably be expected of such a fact after so long an interval. The age of the prince, who had passed his fifteenth year, the good state of his health, the long time that he had cohabited with his spouse, many of his expressions to that very purpose; all these circumstances form a violent presumption, in favour of the King's assertion[†]. Henry himself, after his brother's death, was not allowed for some time to bear the title of prince of Wales, in expectation of her pregnancy: The Spanish ambassador, in order the better to ensure possession of her jointure, had sent over to Spain, proofs of the consummation of her marriage[‡]: Julius's bull itself was founded on the supposition, that Arthur had perhaps had knowledge of the princess: In the very treaty, fixing Henry's marriage, the consummation of the former marriage with prince Arthur, is acknowledged on both siles‖. These particulars were all laid before the court; accompanied with many reasonings concerning the extent of the pope's authority, and his power of granting a dispensation to marry within the prohibited degrees. Campeggio heard these doctrines with great impatience; and notwithstanding his resolution to protract the cause, he was often tempted to interrupt and silence the King's council, when they insisted on such disagreeable topics. The trial was spun out till the 23d of July; and Campeggio chiefly took on him the part of conducting it. Wolsey, tho' the elder cardinal, permitted him to act as president of the court; because it was thought, that a trial, managed by an Italian cardinal, would carry the appearance of greater candour and impartiality, than if the King's own minister and favourite had presided in it. The business now seemed to be drawing near a period; and the King was every day in expectation of a sentence in his favour; when, to his great surprize, Campeggio, on a sudden, without any warning, and upon very frivolous pretences[‡], prorogued the court, till the first of October.
The cause evoked to Rome.

The avocation, which came a few days after from Rome, put an end to all the hopes of success, which the King had so long and so anxiously cherished[§].

DURING the time, that the trial was carried on before the legates at London, the emperor had by his ministers earnestly sollicited Clement to evoke the cause to Rome; and had employed every topic of hope or terror, which could operate either on the passion or timidity of the pontiff. The English ambassadors, on the other hand, in conjunction with the French, had been no less earnest in their applications, that the legates should be allowed to finish the trial; but, tho' they employed the same engines of promises and menaces, the objects, which they could set before the pope, were not so instant nor immediate as those which were held up to him by the emperor[*]. The dread of losing England, and of fortifying the Lutherans by so considerable an accession, made small impression on Clement's mind, in comparison of the anxiety for his own personal safety, and the fond desire of restoring the Medici to their dominion in Florence. So soon, therefore, as he had adjusted all terms with the emperor, he laid hold of the pretence of justice, which required him, he said, to pay regard to the queen's appeal; and suspending the commission of the legates, he evoked the cause to Rome. The legate, Campeggio, had beforehand received private orders, delivered by Campana, to burn the decretal bull, with which he was entrusted.

WOLSEY had long foreseen this measure as the sure fore-runner of his own ruin. Tho' he had at first desired, that the King should rather marry a French princess than Anne Boleyn, he had employed himself with the utmost assiduity and earnestness to bring the affair to an happy issue[†]: He was not therefore to be blamed for the unprosperous event, which the pope's partiality had produced. But he had sufficient experience of the extreme ardour and impatience of Henry's temper, who could bear no contradiction, and who was wont, without examination or distinction, to make his ministers answerable for the issue of those transactions, with which they were entrusted. Anne Boleyn also, who was prepossessed against him, had imputed to him the failure of her hopes; and as she was newly returned to court, whence she had been removed, from a regard to decency, during the trial before the legates, she had naturally acquired an additional influence on Henry's mind, and she served much to fortify his prejudices against the cardinal[‡]. Even the queen and her partizans, judging of Wolsey by the part which he had openly acted, had expressed the highest animosity against him; and the most opposite factions seemed now to combine in the ruin of this haughty minister. The high opinion itself, which Henry had entertained of the cardinal's capacity, tended to hasten his downfal; while he imputed the bad success of that minister's undertakings, not to fortune or mistake, but to the malignity or infidelity of his intentions. The blow, however, fell not instantly on his head. The King, who probably could not justify by any good reason his alienation from his antient favourite, seems to have remained some time in suspence; and he received him, if not with all his former kindness, at least with the appearance of trust and regard.

Wolsey's fall.

BUT it is found almost impossible for a high confidence and affection to receive the least diminution, without sinking into absolute indifference or even running into the opposite extreme of hatred and aversion. The King was now determined to bring on the ruin of the cardinal with a motion almost as precipitate as he had formerly employed in his elevation.
18th October.

The dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were sent to require the great seal from him; and on his scrupling to deliver it[*], without a more express warrant, Henry wrote him a letter, upon which it was surrendered, and was delivered by the King to Sir Thomas More, a man, who, besides the ornaments of an elegant literature, possessed the highest virtue, integrity and capacity.

WOLSEY was ordered to depart from York Place, a palace which he had built in London, and which, tho' it really belonged to the see of York, was seized by Henry, and became afterwards the residence of the Kings of England, under the title of Whitehall. All his furniture and plate were converted to the King's use. Their riches and splendour besitted rather a royal than a private fortune. The walls of his palace were covered with cloth of gold or cloth of silver: He had a cupboard of plate of massy gold: There were found a thousand pieces of sine holland belonging to him. All the rest of his riches and furniture was in proportion; and his opulence was probably no small inducement to this violent persecution against him.

THE cardinal was ordered to retire to Asher, a country seat which he possessed near Hampton-Court. The world, who had paid him such abject court during his prosperity, now entirely deserted him, on this fatal reverse of all his fortunes. He himself was much dejected with the change; and from the same turn of mind, which had made him be so vainly elated with his grandeur, he felt the blow of adversity with double rigour[†]. The smallest appearance of his return to favour threw him into transports of joy, unbecoming a man. The King had seemed willing, during some time, to intermit the blows, which overwhelmed him. He granted him his protection, and lest him in possession of the sees of York and Winchester. He even sent him a gracious message, accompanied with a ring, as a testimony of his affection. Wolsey, who was on horseback when the messenger met him, immediately alighted; and throwing himself on his knees in the dirt, received in that humble posture these marks of his majesty's gracious disposition towards him[‡].

BUT his enemies, who dreaded his return to court, never ceased plying the King with accounts of his several offences; and Anne Boleyn in particular, who bore him no kindness, contributed her endeavours, in conjunction with her uncle the duke of Norfolk, to exclude him from all hopes of ever being reinstated in his former authority. He dismissed therefore his numerous retinue; and as he was a kind and beneficent master, the separation passed not without a plentiful effusion of tears on both sides[§]. The King's heart, notwithstanding some gleams of kindness, seemed now totally hardened against his old favourite. He ordered him to be indicted in the Star Chamber, where a sentence was passed upon him. And not contented with this severity, he abandoned him to all the rigour of the Parliament, which now, after a long interval, was again assembled.
3d November.

The house of lords voted a long charge against Wolsey, consisting of forty-four articles; and accompanied it with an application to the King for his punishment, and his removal from all authority. Little opposition was made to this charge in the upper house: No evidence of any part of it was so much as called for; and as it consists chiefly of general accusations, it was scarce susceptible of any[*]. The articles were sent down to the house of commons; where Thomas Cromwel, formerly a servant of the cardinal, and who had been raised by him from a very low station, defended his unfortunate patron with such spirit, generosity, and courage, as acquired him great honour, and laid the foundation of that favour, which he afterwards enjoyed with the King.

WOLSEY'S enemies, finding that either his innocence or his caution prevented them from having any just ground of accusing him, had recourse to a very extraordinary expedient. An indictment was lodged against him; that, contrary to a statute of Richard the second, commonly called the statute of provisors, he had procured bulls from Rome, particularly that investing him with the legantine power, which he had exercised with very extensive authority. He confessed the indictment, pleaded ignorance of the statute, and threw himself on the King's mercy. He was perhaps within reach of the law; but besides that this statute was fallen altogether into disuse, nothing could be more rigorous and severe than to impute to him as a crime, what he had openly, during a course of so many years, practised with the consent and approbation of the King, and the acquiescence of the Parliament and kingdom. Not to mention, what he always asserted[*], and what we can scarce doubt of, that he had obtained the royal licence in the most formal manner, which, had he not been apprehensive of the dangers attending any opposition to Henry's lawless will, he might have pleaded in his own defence before the judges. Sentence, however, was pronounced against him, "That he was out of the King's protection; his lands and goods forfeited, and that his person might be committed to custody." But this prosecution of Wolsey, tho' it was not disagreeable to Henry, was carried no farther. He even granted him his pardon for all offences; restored him part of his plate and furniture; and still continued, from time to time, to drop expressions of favour and compassion towards him.

Commencement of the reformation in England.

THE complaints against the usurpations of the ecclesiastics had been very antient in England, as well as in most other European kingdoms; and as this topic was now become popular every where, it had paved the way for the Lutheran tenets, and reconciled the people, in some measure, to the frightful idea of heresy and innovation. The commons, finding the occasion favourable, passed several bills, restraining the impositions of the clergy; one for regulating of mortuaries; another against the exactions for the probates of wills[*]; a third against non-residence and pluralities, and against churchmen's being farmers of land. But what appeared chiefly dangerous to the ecclesiastical order, were the severe invectives, thrown out, almost without opposition, in the house, against the dissoluteness of the priests, their ambition, their avarice, and their endless encroachments on the laity. Lord Herbert[†]has even preserved the speech of a gentleman of Grey's-Inn, which is of a very singular nature, and contains such topics as we should little expect to meet with during that period. The member insists upon the vast variety of theological opinions, which prevailed in different nations and ages; the endless inextricable controversies maintained by the several sects; the impossibility, that any man, much less the people, could ever know, much less examine, the tenets and principles of each sect; the necessity of ignorance and a suspence of judgment with regard to all these objects of dispute: And upon the whole, he infers, that the only religion obligatory on mankind is the belief of one supreme Being, the author of nature; and the necessity of good morals, in order to obtain his favour and protection. Such sentiments would be esteemed latitudinarian, even in our time; and would not be advanced, without some precaution, in a public assembly. But tho' the first broaching of religious controversy might encourage the sceptical turn in a few persons of a studious disposition; the zeal, with which men soon after attached themselves to their several parties, served effectually to banish for a long time all such obnoxious liberties.

THE bills for regulating the clergy met with some opposition in the house of lords. Bishop Fisher in particular imputed th•se measures of the commons to their want of faith; and to a formed design, derived from heretical and Lutheran principles, of robbing the church of her patrimony, and overturning the national religion. The duke of Norfolk reproved the prelate, in very severe, and even somewhat indecent terms. He told him, that the greatest clerks are not always the wisest men. But Fisher replied, that he did not remember any fools in his time, that had proved great clerks. The exceptions taken at the bishop of Rochester's speech stopped not there. The commons, by the month of Sir Thomas Audley, their speaker, made complaints to the King of the reflections •hrown upon them; and the bishop was obliged to put a move favourable construction on his words[*].

HENRY was not displeased, that the court of Rome and the clergy should be sensible, that they were entirely dependant on him, and that his Parliament, if he were willing to second their inclinations, were sufficiently disposed to reduce the power and privileges of the ecclesiastics. The commons gratified the King in another particular of moment: They granted him a discharge of all those debts, which he had contracted since the beginning of his reign: And they grounded this bill, which occasioned many complaints, on a pretence of the King's great care of the nation, and of his employing regularly all the money, which he had borrowed, in the public service. Most of the King's creditors consisted of friends to the cardinal, who had been engaged by their patron to contribute to the supply of Henry's demands; and the present courtiers were well pleased to take the opportunity of mulcting them[†]. Several also approved of an expedient, which, they hoped, would ever after discredit a method of supply, so irregular and so unparliamentary.

Foreign affairs.

THE domestic transactions of England were at present so interesting to the King, that they chiefly engaged his attention; and he regarded foreign affairs only in subordination to them. He had declared war against the emperor; but the mutual advantages reaped by the commerce between England and the Netherlands had engaged him to stipulate a neutrality with those provinces; and except by money contributed to the Italian wars, he had in effect exercised no hostilities against any of the imperial dominions. A general peace was this summer established in Europe. Margaret of Austria and Louise of Savoy met at Cambray, and settled the terms of pacification between the French King and the emperor. Charles accepted of two millions of crowns in lieu of Burgundy; and he delivered up the two princes of France, whom he had retained as hostages. Henry was so generous to his friend and ally Francis, that he sent him an acquital of near 600,000 crowns, which that prince owed him. Francis's Italian confederates were not so well satisfied as the King with the peace of Cambray: They were there almost wholly abandoned to the will of the emperor; and seemed to have no other means of security left, but his equity and moderation. Florence, after a brave resistance, was subdued by the imperial arms, and finally delivered over to the dominion of the family of Medici. The Venetians were better treated: They were only obliged to relinquish some acquisitions, which they had made on the coast of Naples. Even Francis S•orza obtained the investiture of Milan, and was pardoned all his past offences. The emperor in person passed over into Italy with a magnificent train, and received the imperial crown from the hands of the pope at Bologna. He was but twenty nine years of age; and having already, by his vigour and capacity, succeeded in every enterprize, and reduced to captivity the two greatest potentates in Europe, the one spiritual, the other temporal, he attracted the eyes of all men; and many prognostications were formed of his growing empire.

BUT tho' Charles seemed to be prosperous on every side, and the conquest of Mexico and Peru now began to prevent that searcity of money, under which he had hitherto laboured, he found himself threatened with difficulties in Germany; and his desire of remedying them was the chief cause of his granting such moderate conditions to the powers in Italy. Sultan Solyman, the greatest and most accomplished prince, that ever sat on the Ottoman throne, had almost entirely subdued Hungary, had besieged Vienna, and, tho' repulsed, still menaced the hereditary dominions of the house of Austria with conquest and subjection. The Lutheran princes in the empire, finding, that liberty of conscience was denied them, had combined in a league for their own defence at Smalcalde; and because they protested against the votes of the imperial diet, they thenceforth received the appellation of protestants. Charles had undertaken to reduce them to obedience; and under pretence of securing the purity of religion, he had laid a scheme of aggrandizing his own family, by extending its dominions over all Germany.

THE friendship of Henry was one material circumstance yet wanting to Charles, in order to render his ambitious projects feasible; and the King was sufficiently acquainted, that the concurrence of that prince would at once remove all the difficulties, which lay in the way of his divorce; that point, which had long been the object of his most earnest wishes. But besides that the interests of his kingdom seemed to require a confederacy with France, his haughty spirit could not brook a friendship imposed on him by constraint; and as he had ever been accustomed to receive courtship, submission, and sollicitation from the greatest potentates, he could ill bear that dependance, to which this unhappy affair seemed to have reduced him. Amidst the anxieties with which he was agitated, he was often tempted to break off all connexion with the court of Rome; and tho' he had been educated in a superstitious reverence to the papal authority, it is likely, that his personal experience of the duplicity and selfish politics of Clement, had served much to open his eyes in that particular. He found his royal prerogative firmly established at home: He observed that his people were in general much disgusted with clerical usurpations, and disposed to reduce the powers and privileges of the ecclesiastical order: He knew, that they had cordially taken part with him in his prosecution of a divorce, and highly resented that unworthy treatment, which, after so many services and such devoted attachment, he had received from the court of Rome. Anne Boleyn also could not fail, by her insinuations, to engage him into extremities with the pope, both as it was the readiest way to her attaining royal dignity, and as her education in the court of the dutchess of Alançon, a princess inclined to the reformers, had already disposed her to a belief of the new doctrines. But notwithstanding all these inducements, Henry had strong motives still to desire a good agreement with the sovereign pontiff. He apprehended the danger of such great innovations: He dreaded the reproach of heresy: He abhorred all connexions with the Lutherans, the chief opponents of papal power: And having once exerted himself with such applause, as he imagined, in defence of the Romish communion, he was ashamed to retract his former opinions, and betray from passion such a palpable inconsistency. While he was agitated by these contrary motives, an expedient was proposed, which, as it promised a solution of all difficulties, was embraced by him with the greatest joy and satisfaction.

The universities consulted about the King's marriage.

DR. Thomas Cranmer, a fellow of Jesus-College in Cambridge, was a man remarkable in that university for his learning, and still more, for the candour and disinterestedness of his temper. He fell one evening by accident into company with Gardiner, now secretary of state, and Fox the King's almoner; and as the business of the divorce became the subject of conversation, he observed, that the readiest way either to quiet Henry's conscience or extort the pope's consent, would be to consult all the universities of Europe with regard to this controverted point: If they agreed to approve the King's marriage with Catherine, his remorses would naturally cease; if they condemned it, the pope would find it difficult to resist the sollicitations of so great a monarch, seconded by the opinion of all the learned men in Christendom[*]. When the King was informed of this proposal, he was delighted with it; and swore, with more alacrity than delicacy, that Cranmer had got the right sow by the ear: He sent for that divine: Entered into conversation with him: Conceived a high opinion of his virtue and understanding: Engaged him to write in defence of the divorce: And immediately, in prosecution of the scheme proposed, employed his agents to collect the judgment of all the universities in Europe.

HAD the question of Henry's marriage with Catherine been examined by the principles of sound philosophy, exempt from superstition, it seemed not liable to much difficulty. The natural reason, why marriage in certain degrees is prohibited by the civil laws, and condemned by the moral sentiments of all nations, is derived from men's care to preserve purity of manners; while they reflect, that if a commerce of love were authorized between the nearest relations, the frequent opportunities of intimate conversation, especially during early youth, would introduce an universal dissoluteness and corruption. But as the customs of countries vary considerably, and open an intercourse, more or less restrained, between different families, or between the several members of the same family, so we find, that the moral precept, varying with its cause, is susceptible, without any inconvenience, of very different latitude in the several ages and nations of the world. The extreme delicacy of the Greeks, permitted no converse between persons of the two fexes, except where they lived under the same roof; and even the apartments of a step-mother, and her daughters, were almost as much shut up against visits from the husband's sons, as against those from any strangers or more remote relations: Hence in that nation it was lawful for a man to marry, not only his niece, but his half▪sister by the father: A liberty unknown to the Romans, and other nations, where a more open intercourse was authorised between the sexes. Reasoning from this principle, it would appear, that the ordinary commerce of life among great princes, is so obstructed by ceremony, and numerous attendants, that no ill consequence would result among them, from the marriage of a brother's widow; especially if the dispensation of the sovereign priest is previously required, in order to justify what may in common cases be condemned, and to hinder the precedent from becoming too common and familiar. And as strong motives of public interest and tranquillity may frequently require such alliances between the sovereign families, there is less reason for extending towards them the full rigour of that rule which has place among individuals[*].

BUT in opposition to these reasons, and many more which might be collected, Henry had custom and practice on his side, the principle by which men are almost wholly governed in their actions and opinions. Marriages with a brother's widow were so unusual, that no other instance of it could be found in any history or record of any Christian nation; and tho' the popes were accustomed to dispense with more essential precepts of morality, and even permitted marriages within other prohibited degrees, such as those of uncle and niece, the imaginations of men were not as yet reconciled to this particular exercise of his authority. Several universities of Europe, therefore, without hesitation, as well as without interest or reward[†], gave verdict in the King's favour; not only those of France, Paris, Orleans, Bourges, Tholouse, Angiers, which might be supposed to lie under the influence of their prince, ally to Henry; but also those of Italy, Venice, Ferrara, Padua; even Bologna itself, tho' under the immediate jurisdiction of Clement. Oxford alone[‡]and Cambridge‖made some difficulty; because these universities, alarmed with the progress of Lutheranism, and fearing a defection from the holy see, scrupled to give their sanction to measures, whose consequences, they feared, would prove so fatal to the ancient religion: Their opinion however, conformable to that of the other universities of Europe, was at last procured; and the King, in order to give weight to all these authorities, engaged his nobility to write a letter to the pope, recommending his cause to the holy father, and threatning him with the most dangerous consequences in case of a denial of justice[§]. The convocations too both of Canterbury and York, pronounced the King's marriage invalid, irregular, and contrary to the law of God, with which no human power had authority to dispense[*]. But Clement lying still under the influence of the emperor, continued to summon the King to appear, either by himself or proxy, before his tribunal at Rome; and the King, who knew that he could expect no fair trial there, refused to submit to such a condition, and would not even admit of any citation, which he regarded as a high insult, and a violation of his royal prerogative. The Father of Anne Boleyn, created earl of Wiltshire, carried to the pope the King's reasons for not appearing by proxy; and as the first instance of disrespect from England, refused to kiss his holiness's foot, which he very graciously held out to him for that purpose[*].

THE extremities to which Henry was pushed, both against the pope and the ecclesiastical order, were naturally very disagreeable to cardinal Wolsey; and as Henry foresaw his opposition, it is the most probable reason which can be assigned for his continuing to persecute with so much rigour his ancient favourite. After Wolsey had remained some time at Asher, he was allowed to remove to Richmond, a palace which he had received as a present from Henry, in return for Hampton-Court: But the courtiers, dreading still his near neighbourhood to the King, procured an order for him to remove to his see of York. The cardinal knew it was vain to resist: He took up his residence at Cawood in Yorkshire, where he rendered himself extremely popular to the neighbourhood, by his affability and hospitality[†]: but he was not allowed to remain long unmolested in this retreat. The earl of Northumberland received orders, without regard to Wolsey's ecclesiastical character, to arrest him for high treason, and to conduct him to London, in order to his trial. The cardinal, partly from the fatigues of the journey, partly from the agitation of his anxious mind, was seized with a disorder which turned into a dysentery; and he was able, with some difficulty, to reach Leicester-abbey. When the abbot and monks advanced to receive him with much respect and ceremony, he told them, that he was come to lay his bones among them; and he immediately took his bed, whence he never rose more.
28 Novemb.

A little before he expired, he addressed himself in the following words to Sir William Kingston, constable of the Tower, who had him in custody.
"I pray you, have me heartily recommended unto his royal majesty, and beseech him on my behalf to call to his remembrance all matters that have passed between us from the beginning, especially with regard to his business with the queen; and then will he know in his conscience whether I have offended him.
"HE is a prince of a most royal carriage, and hath a princely heart; and rather than he will miss or want any part of his will, he will endanger the one half of his kingdom.

"I DO assure you, that I have often kneeled before him, sometimes three hours together, to persuade him from his will and appetite; but could not prevail: Had I but served God as diligently as I have served the King, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs. But this is the just reward that I must receive for my indulgent pains and study, not regarding my service to God, but only to my prince. Therefore, let me advise you, if you be one of the privy-council, as by your wisdom you are fit, take care what you put into the King's head: For you can never put it out again[‡]."

Wolsey's death.

THUS died this famous cardinal, whose character seems to have contained as singular a variety as the fortune to which he was exposed. The obstinacy and violence of the King's temper may alleviate much of the blame which some of his favourite's measures have undergone; and when we consider, that the subsequent part of Henry's reign was much more unfortunate and criminal than that which was directed by Wolsey's councils, we shall be inclined to suspect of partiality those historians, who have endeavoured to load his memory with such violent reproaches. If in foreign politics, he sometimes employed his influence over the King for his private purposes, rather than his master's interest, which, he boasted, he had solely at heart; we must remember, that he had in view the papal throne; a dignity, which, had he attained it, would have enabled him to make Henry a suitable return for all his favours. The cardinal d'Amboise, whose memory is precious in France, always made this apology for his own conduct, which was, in some respects, similar to Wolsey's; and we have reason to think, that Henry was well acquainted with the motives by which his minister was influenced. He regreted very much his death, when informed of it; and always spoke favourably of his memory: A proof, that humour more than reason, or any discovery of treachery, had occasioned his last persecutions against him.

16 January.

A Parliament

A NEW session of Parliament was held, together with a convocation; and the King gave strong proofs of his extensive authority, as well as of his intention to employ it to the depression of the Clergy. As an ancient statute, now almost become obsolete, had been made use of to ruin Wolsey, and render his exercise of the legantine power criminal, notwithstanding the King's permission; the same law was now turned against the ecclesiastics. It was pretended, that every one who had submitted to the legantine authority, that is, the whole church, had violated the statute of provisors; and the attorney-general brought accordingly an indictment against them[*]. The convocation knew that it would be vain to oppose reason or equity to the King's arbitrary will, or plead that their ruin would have been the certain consequence of not submitting to Wolsey's commission, which was procured by Henry's consent, and supported by his authority. They chose therefore to throw themselves on the mercy of their sovereign; and they agreed to pay 118,840 l. for their pardon[†]. A confession was likewise extorted from them, that the King was the protector and the supreme head of the church and clergy of England; tho' some of them had the dexterity to get a clause inserted, which invalidated the whole submission, and which ran in these terms, in so far as is permitted by the law of Christ.

THE commons, finding that a pardon was granted the clergy, began to be apprehensive for themselves, lest either they should afterwards be brought into trouble, on account of their submission to the legantine court, or a supply be extorted from them, in return for their pardon. They therefore petitioned the King, to grant a remission to his lay subjects; but met with a repulse. He told them, that, if he ever pleased to forgive their offence, it would be from his own goodness, not from their application, lest he should seem to be compelled to it. Some time after, when they despaired of obtaining this concession, he was pleased to issue a pardon to the laity; and the commons expressed great gratitude for this act of clemency[‡].

BY the strict execution of the statute of provisors, a great part of the profit, and still more of the power, of the court of Rome was cut off; and the connections between the pope and the English clergy were, in some measure, dissolved. The next session found both King and Parliament in the same dispositions.
15 January.

An act was passed against levying the annates or first fruits‖; being a year's rent of all the bishoprics that fell vacant:
Progress of the reformation.

A tax which was imposed by the court of Rome for granting bulls to the new prelates, and which was found to amount to considerable sums. Since the second of Henry the seventh, no less than one hundred and sixty thousand pounds had been transmitted to Rome, on account of this claim; which the Parliament, therefore, reduced to five per cent. of all the episcopal benefices. The better to keep the pope in awe, the King was entrusted with a power of regulating these payments, and of confirming or infringing this act at his pleasure: And it was voted, that any censures which should be passed by the court of Rome, on account of that law, should be entirely disregarded, and that mass should be said, and the sacraments administered, as if no such censures had been issued.

THIS session the commons preferred to the King, a long complaint against the abuses and oppressions of the ecclesiastical courts; and they were proceeding to enact laws for remedying them, when a difference arose, which put an end to the session, before the Parliament had finished all their business. It was become a custom for men to make such settlements, or trust deeds, of their land by will, that they defrauded, not only the King, but all other lords, of their wards, marriages, and reliefs; and by the same artifice the King was deprived of his primier seisin, and the profits of the livery, which were no inconsiderable branches of the revenue. Henry made a bill be drawn to moderate, not remedy altogether, this abuse: He was contented, that every man should have the liberty of disposing in this manner of the half of his land; and he told the Parliament in plain terms, "If they would not take a reasonable thing, when it was offered, he would search out the extremity of the law; and then would not offer them so much again." The lords came willingly into his terms; but the commons rejected the bill: A singular instance, where Henry might see, that his power and authority, tho' extensive, had yet some boundaries. The commons, however, found reason to repent of their victory. The King made good his threats: He called together the judges and ablest lawyers, who argued the question in chancery; and it was decided, that a man could not by law bequeath any part of his lands, in prejudice of his heir[*].

10 April.

THE Parliament being again assembled after a short prorogation, the King caused the two oaths to be read to them, that which the bishops took to the pope, and that to the King, on their installation; and as a contradiction might be suspected between them, while the prelates seemed to swear allegiance to two sovereigns[†], the Parliament showed their intention of abolishing the oath to the pope, when their proceedings were suddenly stopped by the breaking out of the plague at Westminster, which occasioned a prorogation. It is remarkable, that one Temse ventured this session to move, that the House should address the King, to take back the queen, and stop the prosecution of his divorce. This motion occasioned the King to send for Audley, the Speaker; and to explain to him the scruples with which his conscience had so long been agitated; scruples, he said, which had proceeded from no wanton appetite, which had arisen after the fervours of youth were over, and which were confirmed by the concurring sentiments of all the learned societies in Europe. Except in Spain and Portugal, he added, it was never heard of, that any man had espoused two sisters; but he himself had the misfortune, he believed, to be the first christian man who had ever married his brother's widow[‡].

AFTER the prorogation, Sir Thomas More, the chancellor, foreseeing that all the measures of the King and Parliament tended to a breach with the church of Rome, and to an alteration of religion, which his principles would not permit him to concur with, desired leave to resign the seals; and he descended from this high station with more joy and alacrity than he had mounted up to it. The austerity of this man's virtue, and the sanctity of his manners, had no way encroached on the gentleness of his temper, nor even diminished that frolic and gaity to which he was naturally inclined. He sported with all the varieties of fortune into which he was thrown; and neither the pride naturally attending a high station, nor the melancholy incident to poverty and retreat, could ever lay hold of his serene and equal spirit. While his family discovered symptoms of sorrow on laying down the grandeur and magnificence to which they had been accustomed, he drew a subject of mirth from their distresses; and made them ashamed of losing even a moment's chearfulness, on account of such trivial misfortunes. The King, who had entertained a high opinion of his virtue, admitted his resignation with some difficulty; and he bestowed the seals soon after on Sir Thomas Audley.

DURING these transactions in England, and these invasions of the papal and ecclesiastical authority, the court of Rome were not without solicitude; and they entertained very just apprehensions of losing entirely their authority in England; the kingdom, which, of all others, had long been most devoted to the holy see, and which had yielded it the most ample revenue. While the imperial cardinals pushed Clement to proceed to extremities against the King, his more moderate and impartial counsellors represented to him the indignity of his proceedings; that a great monarch, who had signalized himself, both by his pen and his sword, in the pope's cause, should be refused a favor, which he demanded on such just grounds, and which had scarce ever before been denied to any person of his rank and station. Notwithstanding these remonstrances, the Queen's appeal was received at Rome; the King was cited to appear; and several consistories were held, to examine the validity of their marriage. Henry was determined not to send any proxy to plead his cause before this court: He only dispatched Sir Edward Karne and Dr. Bonner, in quality of excusators, so they were called, to carry his apology, for not paying that deference to the papal authority. The prerogative of his crown, he said, must be sacrificed, if he allowed of appeals from his own kingdom; and as the question regarded conscience, not power or interest, no proxy could supply his place, or convey that satisfaction which the dictates of his own mind could alone confer.
11 October.

In order to support himself in this measure, and add greater security to his defection from Rome, he procured an interview with Francis at Boulogne and Calais, where he renewed his personal friendship, as well as public alliance, with that monarch, and concerted all measures for their mutual defence. He even employed arguments, by which, he believed, he had persuaded Francis to imitate his example in withdrawing his obedience from the bishop of Rome, and administering ecclesiastical affairs without having farther recourse to that see.
14 November.

And being now fully determined in his own mind, as well as resolute to stand all consequences, he privately celebrated his marriage with Anne Boleyn, whom he had created marchioness of Pembroke. Rouland Lee, soon after raised to the bishopric of Coventry, officiated at the marriage. The duke of Norfolk, uncle to the new Queen, her father, mother, and brother, together with Dr. Cranmer, were present at the ceremony[*]. Anne became pregnant soon after her marriage; and this event, both gave great joy to the King, and was regarded by the people as a strong proof of the Queen's former modesty and virtue.

4 February. A Parliament.

THE Parliament was again assembled; and Henry, in conjunction with the great council of the nation, proceeded still in those gradual and secure steps, by which they loosened their connections with the see of Rome, and repressed the usurpations of the Roman pontiff. An act was made against all appeals to Rome in causes of matrimony, divorces, wills, and other suits cognizable in ecclesiastical courts; appeals esteemed dishonourable to the kingdom, by subjecting it to a foreign jurisdiction; and found to be infinitely vexatious, by the expence and the delay of justice, which necessarily attended them[†].
12 April.

The more to shew his disregard to the pope, Henry, finding the new Queen's pregnancy to advance, publicly owned his marriage; and in order to remove all doubts with regard to its lawfulness, he prepared measures for declaring, by a formal sentence, the invalidity of his former marriage with Catherine: A sentence which ought naturally to have preceded his espousals of Anne[‡].

THE King, notwithstanding his scruples and remorses on account of his first marriage, had always treated Catherine with respect and distinction; and he endeavoured, by every soft and persuasive art, to engage her to depart from her appeal to Rome, and her opposition to his divorce. Finding her obstinate in maintaining the justice of her cause, he had totally forborne all visits and intercourse with her; and had desired her to make choice of any one of his palaces in which she should please to reside. She had fixed her court for some time at Amphill near Dunstable;
10 May.

and it was in this latter town that Cranmer, now created archbishop of Canterbury, on the death of Warham‖, was appointed to open his court for examining the validity of her marriage. The near neighbourhood of the place was chosen in order to deprive her of all plea of ignorance; and as she made no answer to the citation, neither by herself nor proxy, she was declared contumacious; and the primate proceeded to the examination of the cause. The evidences of Arthur's consummation of the marriage were produced; the opinions of the universities were read; together with the judgment pronounced two years before by the convocations both of Canterbury and York; and after these preparatory steps, Cranmer proceeded to a sentence, and annulled the King's marriage with Catherine as unlawful and invalid. By a subsequent sentence, he ratified the marriage with Anne Boleyn, who soon after was publicly crowned Queen, with all the pomp and dignity suited to that ceremony[*].
7 September.

To compleat the King's satisfaction, on the conclusion of this intricate and vexatious affair, she was safely delivered of a daughter, who received the name of Elizabeth, and who afterwards swayed the scepter with such renown and felicity. Henry was so much delighted with the birth of this child, that soon after he conferred on her the title of princess of Wales[†]; a step somewhat irregular, as she was only presumptive, not apparent heir of the crown. But he had, during his former marriage, thought proper to honour his daughter Mary with that title; and he was determined to bestow on the offspring of his present marriage, the same marks of distinction, as well as exclude Mary from all hopes of the succession. His regard for the new Queen seemed rather to increase than diminish by his marriage; and all men expected to see the entire ascendant of one who had mounted a throne, from which her birth had set her at so great a distance, and who, by a proper mixture of severity and indulgence, had long managed so intractable a spirit as that of Henry. In order to efface, as much as possible, all marks of his first marriage, Lord Mountjoy was sent to the unfortunate and divorced Queen, to inform her, that she was henceforth to be treated only as princess dowager of Wales; and all means were employed to make her acquiesce in that determination. But she continued obstinate in maintaining the validity of her marriage; and she would admit of no service from any person, who did not approach her with the accustomed ceremonial. Henry, forgetting his wonted generosity towards her, employed menaces against such of her servants as complied with her commands in this particular; but was never able to make her relinquish her title and pretensions[†].

WHEN intelligence was conveyed to Rome of these transactions, so injurious to the authority and reputation of the holy see, the conclave were in a rage, and all the cardinals of the imperial faction urged the pope to proceed to a definitive sentence, and to emit his spiritual thunders against Henry. But Clement proceeded no farther than to declare the nullity of Cranmer's sentence, as well as that of Henry's second marriage; threatening him with excommunication, if, before the first of November ensuing, he did not replace every thing in the condition, in which they formerly stood[‡]. An event had happened, from which the pontiff expected a more amicable conclusion of the difference, and which hindered him from carrying matters to extremity against the King.

THE pope had claims upon the dutchy of Ferrara for the sovereignty of Reggio and Modena[*]; and having submitted his pretensions to the arbitration of the emperor, he was surprized to find a sentence pronounced against him. Enraged at this disappointment, he hearkened to proposals of amity from Francis; and when that monarch made overtures of marrying the duke of Orleans, his second son, with Catherine of Medici, niece to the pope, Clement gladly embraced an alliance, by which his family was so much honoured. An interview was even appointed of the pope and French King at Marseilles; and Francis, as a common friend, employed his good offices in mediating an agreement between his new ally and the King of England.

HAD this connexion of France with the see of Rome taken place a few years sooner, there had been little difficulty in composing the quarrel with Henry. The King's request was an ordinary one; and the same plenary power of the pope, which had granted a dispensation for his espousing Catherine, could easily have annulled the marriage. But in the progress of the quarrel, the state of affairs was much changed on both sides. Henry had shaken off much of that reverence with which he had been early imbued for the apostolical see; and finding, that his subjects of all ranks had taken part with him, and willingly complied with his movements for breaking foreign dependance, he had taken a relish for his spiritual authority, and would scarce, it was apprehended, be induced to renew his submissions to the Roman pontiff. The pope, on the other hand, ran now a manifest risque of infringing his authority by a compliance with the King; and as a sentence of divorce could no longer be rested on nullities in Julius's bull, but would be construed as an acknowledgment of papa• usurpations, it was foreseen, that the Lutherans would thence take occasion of triumph, and would persevere more obstinately in their present principles. But notwithstanding these obstacles, Francis did not despair of mediating an agreement. He still observed that the King had some remains of prejudice in favour of the apostolic see, and was apprehensive of the consequences, which might onsue from too violent innovations. He saw plainly the interest, that Clement had in preserving the obedience of England, which was one of the richest jewels in the papal crown. And he hoped, that these motives on both sides would facilitate a mutual agreement, and would forward the effects of his good offices.

FRANCIS first prevailed on the pope to promise, that, if the King would send a proxy to Rome, and thereby submit his cause to the holy see, he would appoint commissioners to meet at Cambray, and form the process; and he would immediately afterwards pronounce the sentence of divorce, required of him. Bellay, bishop of Paris, was next dispatched to London, and obtained a promise of the King, that he would submit his cause to the Roman consistory, provided the cardinals of the imperial faction were excluded from it. The prelate carried this verbal promise to Rome; and the pope agreed, that, if the King would sign a written agreement to the same purpose, his demands should be fully complied with.
King's final breach with Rome.

A day was appointed for the return of the messengers; and all the world regarded this affair, which had threatened a violent rupture between England and the Romish church, as drawing towards an amicable conclusion[*]. But the greatest affairs often depend on the most frivolous incidents. The courier, who carried the King's written promise, was detained beyond the day appointed: News are brought to Rome that a libel had been published in England against the court of Rome, and a farce acted before the King in derision of the pope and cardinals[†].
23d March.

The pope and cardinals enter into the consistory enflamed with anger; and by a precipitate sentence, the marriage of Henry and Catherine was pronounced valid, and Henry declared to be excommunicated if he refused to adhere to it. Two days after, the courier arrived; and Clement, who had been hurried from his usual prudence, found, that, tho' he repented heartily of this hasty measure, it would be difficult for him to retract it, or replace affairs on the same footing as before.

IT is not probable, that the pope, had he conducted himself with ever so great moderation and temper, could hope, during the life-time of Henry, to have regained much authority or influence in England. That monarch was both impetuous and obstinate in his character; and having proceeded so far in throwing off the papal yoke, he never could again have been induced tamely to bend his neck to it.
15 January.

Even at the time, when he was negotiating a reconcilement with Rome, he either entertained so little hopes of success, or was so indifferent about the event, that he had assembled a Parliament;
A Parliament.

and continued to enact laws totally destructive of the papal authority. The people had been prepared by degrees for this great innovation. Each preceding session had retrenched something from the power and profit of the pontiff. Care had been taken, during some years, to teach the nation, that a general council was much superior to the pope. But now a bishop preached every Sunday at Paul's Cross, in order to inculcate the doctrine, that the pope was intitled to no authority at all beyond the bounds of his own diocese[‡]. The proceedings of the Parliament showed that they had entirely adopted this opinion; and there is reason to believe, that the King, after having procured a favourable sentence from Rome, which would have removed all the doubts with regard to his second marriage and the succession, might indeed have lived on terms of civility with the apostolic see, but never would have surrendered to it any considerable share of his assumed prerogative. The nature and importance of the laws, passed this session, even before news arrived of the violent resolutions taken at Rome, is sufficient to justify this opinion.

ALL payments made to the apostolic chamber; all provisions, bulls, dispensations, were abolished: Monasteries were subjected to the visitation and government of the King alone: The law for punishing heretics was moderated; the ordinary was prohibited to imprison or try any person upon suspicion alone, without presentment by two lawful witnesses; and it was declared, that to speak against the pope's authority was no heresy: Bishops were to be appointed, by a congè d'elire from the crown, or in case of the dean and chapter's refusal, by letters patent; and no recourse was to be had to Rome for palls, bulls, or provisions: Campeggio and Ghinucci, two Italians, were deprived of the bishoprics of Salisbury and Worcester, which they had hitherto enjoyed[*]: The law which had been formerly made against paying annates or first fruits, but which had been left in the King's power to suspend or inforce, was finally established: And a submission, which was exacted two years before from the clergy, and which had been obtained with great difficulty, received this session the sanction of Parliament[†]. In this submission, the clergy acknowledge, that convocations ought only to be assembled by the King's authority; they promise to enact no new canons without his consent; and they agree, that he should appoint thirty-two commissioners, in order to examine the old canons, and abrogate such as should be found prejudicial to his royal prerogative[‡]. An appeal was also allowed from the bishop's court to the King in Chancery.

BUT the most important law passed this session, was that which regulated the succession to the crown: The marriage of the King with Catherine was declared unlawful, void, and of no effect: The primate's sentence, annulling it, was ratified: And the marriage with Queen Anne was established and confirmed. The crown was appointed to descend to the issue of that marriage, and failing them to the King's heirs for ever. An oath likewise was ordered to be taken in favour of this succession, under penalty of imprisonment during the King's pleasure, and forfeiture of goods and chattels. And all slander against the King, Queen, or their issue, was subjected to the penalty of misprision of treason. After these compliances, the Parliament was prorogued;
30th March.

and those acts, so contemptuous towards the pope, and so destructive of his authority, were passed at the very time that Clement pronounced his hasty sentence against the King. Henry's resentment against Queen Catherine, on account of her obstinacy, was the reason why he excluded her daughter from all hopes of succeeding to the crown; contrary to his first intention, when he began the suit of divorce, and of dispensation for a second marriage.

THE King found his ecclesiastical subjects as compliant as the laity. The convocation ordered, that the act against appeals to Rome, together with the King's appeal from the pope to a general council, should be affixed to the doors of all the churches in the kingdom: And they voted, that the bishop of Rome had, by the law of God, no more jurisdiction in England than any other foreign bishop; and that the authority, which he and his predecessors had exercised there, was only by usurpation and the sufferance of English princes. Four persons only opposed this vote in the lower house, and one doubted. It passed unanimously in the upper. The bishops went so far in their complaisance, that they took out new commissions from the crown, where all their spiritual and episcopal authority was expressly affirmed to be derived ultimately from the civil magistrate, and to be entirely dependent on his good pleasure[†].

THE oath regarding the succession was generally sworn throughout the kingdom. Fisher, bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More, were the only persons of note, who entertained scruples with regard to its legality. Fisher was obnoxious on account of some practices, into which his credulity, rather than any bad intentions, seems to have betrayed him. But More was the person of greatest reputation in the kingdom for virtue and integrity; and as it was believed, that his authority would have influence on the sentiments of others, great pains were taken to convince him of the lawfulness of the oath. He declared, that he had no scruple with regard to the succession, and thought that the Parliament had full power to settle it: He offered to draw an oath himself, which would assure his allegiance to the heir appointed; but he refused the oath prescribed by law; because the preamble of that oath asserted the legality of the King's marriage with Anne, and thereby implied, that his former marriage with Catherine was unlawful and invalid. Cranmer, the primate, and Cromwel, now secretary of state, who highly loved and esteemed More, earnestly sollicited him to lay aside his scruples; and their friendly entreaties seemed to weigh more with him, than all the penalties attending his refusal[*]. He persisted however, in a mild, tho' firm manner, to maintain his resolution; and the King, irritated against him as well as Fisher, ordered them both to be indicted upon the slatute, and committed prisoners to the Tower.

3d November.

THE Parliament, being again assembled, conferred on the King the title of the only supreme head on earth of the church of England; as they had already invested him with all the real power belonging to it. In this memorable act, the Parliament granted him power, or rather acknowledged his inherent power,
"to visit, and repress, redress, reform, order, correct, restrain, or amend all errors, heresies, abuses, offences, contempts and enormities, which fell under any spiritual authority or jurisdiction[†]."
They also declared it treason to attempt, imagine, or speak evil against the King, Queen, or his heirs, or to endeavour the depriving them of their dignities or titles. They gave him a right to all the annates and tythes of benefices, which had formerly been paid to the court of Rome. They granted him a subsidy and a fifteenth. They attainted More and Fisher for misprision of treason. And they united England and Wales together, by giving to that principality all the benefit of the English laws.

THUS the authority of the popes, like all exorbitant power, was ruined by the excess of its acquisitions, and by stretching its pretensions beyond what it was possible for any human principles or prepossessions to sustain. The right of granting indulgences had in former ages contributed extremely to enrich the holy see; but being openly abused, served to excite the first commotions and oppositions in Germany. The prerogative of granting dispensations had also contributed much to attach all the sovereign princes and great families in Europe to the papal authority; but meeting with an unlucky concurrence of circumstances, was now the cause, why England separated herself from the Romish communion. The acknowledgment of the King's supremacy introduced there a greater simplicity into the government, by uniting the spiritual with the civil power, and preventing disputes about limits, which never could be exactly determined between the contending parties. A way was also prepared for checking the exorbitancy of superstition, and breaking those shakles, by which all human reason, policy, and industry had so long been incumbered. The prince, it may be supposed, being head of the religion, as well as of the temporal jurisdiction of the kingdom, tho' he might sometimes employ the former as an engine of government, had no interest, like the Roman pontiff, in nourishing its excessive growth; and, except when blinded by ignorance or bigotry, would be sure to retain it within tolerable limits, and prevent its abuses. And on the whole, there followed from these revolutions very beneficial consequences; tho' perhaps neither foreseen nor intended by the persons who had the chief hand in conducting them.

WHILE Henry proceeded with so much order and tranquillity in changing the antient religion, and while his authority seemed entirely secure in England, he was held in some inquietude by the state of affairs in Ireland and in Scotland.

THE earl of Kildare was deputy of Ireland, under the duke of Richmond, the King's natural son, who bore the title of lieutenant; and as Kildare was accused of some violences against the family of Ossory, his hereditary enemy, he was called over to answer for his conduct. He left his authority in the hands of his son, who hearing that his father was thrown into prison, and was in danger of his life, immediately took up arms, and joining himself to Oneale, Ocarrol, and other Irish nobility, committed many ravages, murdered Allen, archbishop of Dublin, and laid siege to that city. Old Kildare mean-while died in prison, and his son, persevering in his revolt, made applications to the emperor, who promised him assistance. The King was obliged to send over some forces to Ireland, which so harrassed the rebels, that Kildare, finding the emperor backward in fulfilling his promises, was reduced to the necessity of surrendering himself prisoner to lord Leonard Gray, the new deputy, brother to the marquis of Dorset. He was sent over to England, together with his five uncles; and after trial and conviction, they were all brought to public justice; tho' two of the uncles, in order to save the family, had pretended to join the King's party.

THE earl of Angus had acquired the entire ascendant in Scotland, and having got possession of the King's person, then in early youth, he was able, by means of that advantage, and by employing the power of his own family, to retain the reins of government. The queen dowager, however, his spouse, bred him great disturbance: For having separated herself from him, on account of some jealousies and disgusts, and having procured a divorce, she had married another man of quality of the name of Stuart; and she joined all the discontented nobility, who opposed Angus's authority. James himself was dissatisfied with the slavery, to which he was reduced; and by secret correspondence, he excited first Walter Scot, then the earl of Lenox, to attempt, by force of arms, to free him from the hands of Angus. Both enterprizes failed of success; but James, impatient of restraint, found means at last of flying to Stirling, where his mother then resided; and having summoned all the nobility to attend him, he overturned the authority of the Douglasses, and obliged Angus and his brother to fly into England, where they were protected by Henry. The King of Scotland, being now arrived at years of majority, took the government into his own hands; and employed himself with great spirit and valour, in repressing those feuds, ravages, and disorders, which, tho' they disturbed the course of public justice, served to support the martial spirit of the Scotch, and contributed, by that means, to maintain national independancy. He was desirous of renewing the antient league with the French nation; but finding Francis in close union with England, and on that account somewhat cold in hearkening to his proposals, he received the more favourably the advances of the emperor, who hoped, by means of such an ally, to breed disturbance to England. He offered the Scotch King the choice of three princesses, his near relations, and all of the name of Mary; his sister the dowager of Hungary, his niece a daughter of Portugal, or his cousin, the daughter of Henry; whom he pretended to dispose of unknown to her father. James was more inclined to the latter proposal, had it not, upon reflection, been found impracticable; and his natural propensity to France at last prevailed over all other considerations. The alliance with Francis necessarily engaged James to agree to terms of peace with England. But tho' invited by his uncle, Henry, to confer with him at Newcastle, and concert common measures for repressing the ecclesiastics in both kingdoms, and shaking off the yoke of Rome, he could not be prevailed with to put himself in the King's power. In order to have a pretext for refusing the conference, he applied to the pope, and obtained a brief, forbidding him to engage in any personal negotiations with an enemy of the holy see. By these measures, Henry easily concluded, that he could very little depend on the friendship of his nephew. But those events took not place till some time after our present period.

CHAP. V.

Religious principles of the people—of the King—of the ministers.—Farther progress of the reformation.—Sir Thomas More.—The maid of Kent.—Trial and execution of Fisher bishop of Rochester—of Sir Thomas More.—King excommunicated.—Death of Queen Catherine.—Suppression of the lesser monasteries.—A Parliament.—A convocation.—Translation of the Bible.—Disgrace of Queen Anne.—Her trial—and execution.—A Parliament.—A Convocation.—Discontents among the people.—Insurrection.—Birth of prince Edward and death of Queen Jane.—Suppression of the greater monasteries.—Cardinal Pole.

Religious principles of the people.

THE antient and almost uninterrupted opposition of interest between the laity and clergy in England, and between the English Clergy and the court of Rome, had sufficiently prepared the nation for a breach with the Roman pontiff; and men had penetration enough to discover abuses, which were plainly calculated for the temporal advantages of the hierarchy, and which they found destructive of their own. These subjects seemed proportioned to human understanding; and even the people, who felt the power of intere•t in their own breasts, could perceive the purpose of those numerous inventions, which the interested spirit of the sovereign pontiff had introduced into religion. But when the reformers proceeded thence to dispute concerning the nature of the sacraments, the operations of grace, the terms of acceptance with the dei•y, men were thrown into amazement, and were, during some time, at a loss how to chuse their party. The profound ignorance, in which both the clergy and laity formerly lived, and their freedom from theological altercations, had produced a sincere, but indolent acquiescence in received opinions; and the multitude were neither attached to them by topics of reasoning, nor by those prejudices and antipathies against opponents, which have ever a more natural and powerful influence over them. As soon as a new opinion therefore was advanced, supported by such an authority as to call up their attention, they felt their capacity totally unfitted for such disquisitions; and they perpetually fluctuated between the contending parties. Hence the sudden and violent movements by which the people were agitated, even in the most opposite directions: Hence their seeming prostitution in sacrificing to present power the most sacred principles: And hence the rapid progress during some time, and the sudden as well as entire check given afterwards to the new doctrines. When men were once settled in their particular sects, and had fortified themselves in a habitual detestation against those esteemed heretics, they adhered with more obstinacy to the principles of their education; and the limits of the two religions remained thenceforth fixed and unchangeable.

NOTHING forwarded more the first progress of the reformers, than the offer, which they made, of submitting all religious doctrines to private judgment, and the summons given every one to examine the principles formerly imposed upon him. Tho' the multitude were totally unqualified for this undertaking, they yet were highly pleased with it. They fancied that they were exercising their judgment; while they opposed to the prejudices of ancient authority more powerful prejudices of another kind. The novelty itself of the doctrines; the pleasure of an imaginary triumph in dispute; the fervent zeal of the reformed preachers; their patience, and even alacrity, in suffering persecution, death, and torments; a disgust against the restraints of the old religion; an indignation against the tyranny and interested spirit of the ecclesiastics; these motives were prevalent with the people, and by such considerations were men so generally induced during that age, to throw off the religion of their ancestors.

BUT in proportion as the practice of submitting religion to private judgment was acceptable to the people, it appeared, in some respects, dangerous to the rights of sovereigns, and seemed to destroy that implicit obedience on which the authority of the civil magistrate is chiefly founded. The very precedent of shaking such an ancient and deep founded establishment as that of the Roman hierarchy might, it was apprehended, prepare the way for new innovations. The republican spirit, which naturally took place among the reformers, increased this jealousy. The furious insurrections of the populace, excited by Muncer and other anabaptists in Germany[*], furnished a new pretence for decrying the reformation. Nor should we conclude, because protestants in our time prove as dutiful subjects as those of any other religion, that therefore such apprehensions were altogether without any appearance or plausibility. Tho' the liberty of private judgment be tendered to the disciples of the reformation, it is not in reality accepted of; and men are generally contented to acquiesce in those establishments, however new, into which their early education has thrown them.

NO prince in Europe was possessed of such absolute authority as Henry, not even the pope himself, in his own capital, where he united both the civil and ecclesiastical powers[†]; and there was small likelihood, that any doctrine, which lay under the imputation of encouraging sedition, could ever pretend to his favour and countenance.
Of the King.

But besides this political jealousy, there was another reason which inspired this imperious monarch with an aversion to the reformers. He had early declared his sentiments against Luther; and having entered the lists in those scholastic quarrels, he had received, from his courtiers and theologians, infinite applause for his performance. Elated by this imaginary success, and blinded by a natural arrogance and obstinacy of temper, he had entertained the most lofty opinion of his own erudition, and he received with impatience, mixed with contempt, any contradiction to his sentiments. Luther also had been so imprudent, as to treat in a very indecent manner his royal antagonist; and tho' he afterwards made the humblest submissions to Henry, and apologized for the vehemence of his former expressions, he never could efface the hatred which the King had conceived against him and his doctrines. The idea of heresy still appeared detestable as well as formidable to that prince; and whilst his resentment against the see of Rome had removed one considerable part of his early prejudices, he had made it a point of honour never to relinquish the rest. Separate as he stood from the catholic church, and from the Roman pontiff, the head of it, he still valued himself on maintaining the catholic doctrine, and on guarding, by fire and sword, the imagined purity of his speculative principles.

Of the ministers.

HENRY'S ministers and courtiers were of as motley a character as his conduct; and seemed to waver, during this whole reign, between the ancient and the new religion. The Queen, engaged by interest as well as inclination, favoured the cause of the reformers: Cromwel, who was created secretary of state, and who was every day advancing in the King's confidence, had embraced the same views; and as he was a man of prudence and ability, he was able, very effectually, tho' in a covert manner, to promote the late innovations: Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, had secretly adopted the protestant tenets; and he had gained Henry's friendship by his candour and sincerity; virtues which he possessed in as eminent a degree as those times, equally distracted with faction and oppressed with tyranny, could easily permit. On the other hand, the duke of Norfolk adhered to the ancient faith; and by the greatness of his rank, as well as by his talents, both for peace and war, he had great weight in the King's council: Gardiner, lately created bishop of Winchester, had inlisted himself in the same party; and the suppleness of his character, as well as the dexterity of his conduct, had rendered him extremely useful to it.

ALL these ministers, while they stood in the most irreconcilable opposition of principles, were obliged to disguise their particular opinions, and to pretend an entire agreement with the sentiments of their master. Cromwel and Cranmer still carried the appearance of a conformity to the ancient speculative tenets; but they artfully made use of Henry's resentment to widen the breach with the see of Rome. Norfolk and Gardiner feigned an assent to the King's supremacy, and to his renounciation of the sovereign pontiff; but they encouraged his passion for the catholic faith, and instigated him to punish those daring heretics, who had presumed to reject his theological principles. Both sides hoped, by their unlimited compliance, to bring him over to their party: The King mean while, who held the ballance between the factions, was enabled, by the courtship payed him both by protestants and catholics, to assume an immeasurable authority: And tho' in all these measures he was really driven by his ungoverned humour, he casually held a course, which led more certainly to arbitrary power, than any which the most profound politics could have traced out to him. Artifice, refinement, and hypocrisy, in his situation, would have put both parties on their guard against him, and would have taught them reserve in complying with a monarch, whom they could never hope thoroughly to have gained: But while the frankness, sincerity, and openness of Henry's temper were generally known, as well as the dominion of his furious passions; each side dreaded to lose him by the smallest opposition, and flattered themselves that a blind compliance with his will, would throw him, cordially and fully, into their interests.

THE ambiguity of the King's conduct, tho' it kept the courtiers in awe, served to encourage the protestant doctrine among his subjects, and promoted that spirit of innovation with which the age was generally seized, and which nothing but an entire uniformity, as well as a steddy severity in the administration, could be able to repress. There were some Englishmen, Tindal, Joye, Constantine, and others, who, dreading the exertion of the King's authority, had fled to Antwerp[‡]; where the great privileges possessed by the Low Country provinces, served, during some time, to give them protection.
Farther progress of the reformation.

These men employed themselves in writing books, in English, against the corruptions of the church of Rome; against images, relicts, pilgrimages; and they excited the curiosity of men with regard to that question, the most important in theology, the terms of acceptance with the Supreme Being. In conformity to the Lutherans and other protestants, they asserted, that salvation was obtained by faith alone; and that the most infallible road to perdition[*]was a reliance on good works; by which terms they understood, as well the moral duties, as the ceremonial and monastic observances. The defenders of the ancient religion, on the other hand, maintained the efficacy of good works; but tho' they did not exclude from this appellation the social virtues, it was still the superstitions, gainful to the church, which they chiefly extolled and recommended. The books, composed by these fugitives, being stole over to England, began to make converts every where; but it was a translation of the scriptures by Tindal, that was esteemed most dangerous to the established faith. The first edition of this work, composed with little accuracy, was found liable to considerable objections; and Tindal, who was poor, and could not afford to lose a great part of the impression, was longing for an opportunity of correcting his errors, of which he had been made sensible. Tonstal, then bishop of London, soon after of Durham, a man of great moderation, being desirous to discourage, in the gentlest manner, these innovations, gave private orders for buying up all the copies, which could be found at Antwerp; and he burnt them publicly in Cheapside. By this contrivance, he supplied Tindal with money, enabled him to print a new and correct edition of his work, and gave occasion to great scandal and reproach, in thus committing to the flames the word of God[†].

THE disciples of the reformation met with little severity during the ministry of Wolsey, who, tho' himself a clergyman, bore too small regard to the ecclesiastical order, to serve as an instrument of their tyranny: It was even an article of impeachment against him[‡], that by his connivance he had encouraged the growth of heresy, and that he had protected and acquitted some notorious offenders.
Sir Thomas More.

Sir Thomas More, who succeeded Wolsey as chancellor, is at once an object deserving our compassion, and an instance of the usual progress of men's sentiments during that age. This man, whose elegant genius and familiar acquaintance with the noble spirit of antiquity, had given him very enlarged sentiments, and who had in his early years advanced principles, which even at present would be esteemed somewhat libertine, had, in the course of events, been so irritated by polemics, and thrown into such a superstitious attachment to the ancient faith, that few inquisitors have been guilty of greater violence in their prosecutions of heresy. Tho' adorned with the gentlest manners, and the purest integrity, he carried to the utmost height his aversion to heterodoxy; and one James Bainham, in particular, a gentleman of the temple, experienced from him the highest severity. Bainham, accused of favouring the new opinions, was carried to More's house, and having refused to discover his accomplices, the chancellor ordered him to be whipt in his presence, and afterwards sent him to the Tower, where he himself saw him put to the torture. The unhappy gentleman, overcome by all these severities, abjured his opinions; but feeling afterwards the deepest compunction for this apostacy, he openly returned to his former tenets, and even courted the crown of martyrdom. He was condemned as an obstinate and relapsed heretic, and was burned in Smithfield[*].

MANY were brought into the bishops courts for offences, which appear very trivial, but which were regarded as symbols of the party: Some for teaching their children the Lord's prayer in English; others for reading the new testament in that language, or for speaking against pilgrimages. To harbour the persecuted preachers, to neglect the fasts of the church, to declaim against the vices of the clergy, were capital offences. One Thomas Bilney, a priest, who had embraced the new doctrine, had been terrified into an abjuration; but was so haunted by remorse, that his friends dreaded some fatal effects of his despair. At last, his mind seemed to be more composed; but this appearing calm proceeded only from the resolution which he had taken, of expiating his past offence, by an open confession of the truth, and by dying a martyr to it. He went thro' Norfolk, teaching every where the people to beware of idolatry, and of trusting either to pilgrimages, or to the cowle of St. Francis, to the prayers of the saints, or to images. He was soon seized, tried in the bishop's court, and condemned as a relapse; and the writ was sent down to burn him. When brought to the stake, he discovered such patience, fortitude, and devotion, that the spectators were much affected with the horrors of his punishment; and some mendicant friars, who were present, fearing that his death would be imputed to them, and make them lose those alms, which they received from the charity of the people, desired him publicly to acquit them[†]of having any hand in his death. He very willingly complied; and by this meekness gained the more on the sympashy of the people. Another person, still more heroic, being brought to the stake for denying the real presence, seemed almost in a transport of joy; and he tenderly embraced the faggots, which were to be the instruments of his punishment, as the means of procuring him eternal rest. In short, the tide turning towards the new doctrine, those severe executions, which, in another disposition of men's minds, would have sufficed to suppress it, now served only the more to diffuse it among the people, and to inspire them with horror against the unrelenting persecutors.

BUT tho' Henry neglected not to punish the protestant doctrine, which he esteemed heresy, his most formidable enemies, he knew, were the zealous adherents to the ancient religion, chiefly the monks, who, having their immediate dependance on the Roman pontiff, apprehended their own ruin to be the certain consequence of abolishing his authority in England. Peyto, a friar, preaching before the King, had the assurance to tell him,
"That many lying prophets had deceived him, but he, as a true Micajah, warned him, that the dogs would lick his blood, as they had done Ahab's[‡]."
The King took no notice of this insult; but allowed the preacher to depart in peace. Next Sunday, he employed Dr. Corren to preach before him; who justified the King's proceedings, and gave Peyto the appellations of a rebel, a slanderer, a dog, and a traytor. Elston, another friar of the same house, interrupted the preacher; and told him, that he was one of the lying prophets, who sought by adultery to establish the succession to the crown; but that he himself would justify all that Peyto had said. Henry silenced this petulant friar; but showed no other mark of resentment than ordering Peyto and him to be summoned before the council, and to be rebuked for their offence[†]. He even bore patiently some new instances of their obstinacy and arrogance. For when the earl of Essex, a privy counsellor, told them, that they deserved for their offence to be thrown into the Thames; Elston replied, that the road to heaven lay as near by water as by land‖.

BUT several monks were detected in a conspiracy, which, as it might have proved more dangerous to the King, was attended with more fatal consequences to themselves.
The Maid of Kent.

Elizabeth Barton, of Aldington in Kent, commonly called the holy Maid of Kent, had been subject to hysterical fits, which threw her body into unusual convulsions; and having produced an equal disorder in her mind, made her utter strange sayings, which, as she was scarce conscious of them during the time, had soon after entirely escaped her memory. The silly people in the neighbourhood were struck with these appearances, which they imagined to be supernatural; and Richard Masters, vicar of the parish, a designing fellow, founded on them a project, by which he hoped to draw both profit and consideration to himself. He went to Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was at that time alive; and having given him an account of Elizabeth's revelations, he so far wrought on that prudent, but superstitious prelate, as to receive orders from him to watch her in her-trances, and to note down carefully all her future speeches. The regard paid her by a person of so high a rank, soon rendered her still more the object of attention to the neighbourhood; and it was easy for Masters to persuade them, as well as the maid herself, that her ravings were inspirations of the Holy Ghost. Knavery, as is usual, soon after succeeding to illusion, she learned to counterfeit trances; and she then uttered, in an unusual tone of voice, such speeches as were dictated to her by her spiritual director. Masters associated with him Dr. Bocking, a canon of Canterbury; and their design was to raise the credit of an image of the virgin, which stood in a chapel belonging to Masters, and to draw such pilgrimages to it as usually frequented the more famous images and relicts. In prosecution of this design, Elizabeth pretended revelations, which directed her to have recourse to that image for a cure; and being brought before it, in the presence of a great multitude, she fell anew into convulsions; and after distorting her limbs and countenance during a competent time, she affected to have obtained a perfect recovery by the intercession of the virgin[*]. This miracle was soon bruited abroad; and the two priests, finding the imposture to succeed beyond their own expectations, began to extend their views, and to lay the foundation of more important enterprizes. They taught their penitent to declaim against the new doctrines, which she denominated heresy; against innovations in ecclesiastical government; and against the King's divorce from Catherine. She went so far as to assert, that, if he prosecuted that design, and married another, he would not be a King a month longer, and would not an hour longer possess the favour of the Almighty, but should die the death of a villain. Many monks throughout England, either from folly, or roguery, or from faction, which is often a complication of both, entered into this delusion; and one Deering, a friar, wrote a book of the revelations and prophecies of Elizabeth[†]. Miracles were daily added, to encrease the wonder; and the pulpit every where resounded with accounts of the sanctity and inspirations of this new prophetess. Messages were carried from her to Queen Catherine, by which that princess was exhorted to persist in her opposition to the divorce; the pope's ambassadors gave encouragement to the popular credulity; and even Fisher, bishop of Rochester, tho' a man of sense and learning, was carried away with an opinion so favourable to the party, which he had embraced[‡]. The King at last began to think the matter worthy of his attention; and having ordered Elizabeth and her accomplices to be arrested, he brought them before the star-chamber, where they freely, without being put to the torture, made confession of their guilt. The Parliament, in the session held the beginning of this year, passed an act of attainder against some who were engaged in this treasonable imposture[*]; and Elizabeth herself, Masters, Bocking, Deering, Rich, Risby, Gold, suffered for their crime. The bishop of Rochester, Abel, Addison, Laurence, and some others, were condemned for misprision of treason; because they had not discovered some criminal speeches which they heard from Elizabeth[†]: And they were thrown into prison. The better to undeceive the multitude, the forgery of many of the prophetess's miracles was detected; and even the scandalous prostitution of her manners was laid open to the public. Those passions, which so naturally insinuate themselves amidst the warm intimacies maintained by the devotees of different sexes, had taken place between Elizabeth and her confederates; and it was found, that a door to her dormitory, which was said to have been miraculously opened, in order to give her access to the chapel, for the sake of frequent converse with heaven, had been contrived by Bocking and Masters for less refined purposes.

THE detection of an imposture, attended with so many odious circumstances, hurt much the credit of the ecclesiastics, particularly of the monks, and instigated the King to take vengeance on them. He suppressed three monasteries of the Observantine friars; and finding that little clamor was excited by this act of power, he was the more encouraged to lay his rapacious hands on the rest. Meanwhile, he exercised punishment on individuals, who were obnoxious to him. The Parliament had made it treason to endeavour the depriving the King of his dignity or titles: They had lately added to his other titles, that of supreme head of the church: It was inferred, that to deny his supremacy was treason; and many priors and ecclesiastics lost their lives for this new species of crime. It was certainly a high instance of tyranny to make the mere delivery of a political opinion, especially one that no way affected the King's temporal right, to be a capital offence, tho' attended with no overt act; and the Parliament, in passing this law, had overlooked all the principles by which a civilized, much more a free people, should be governed: But the violence of changing so suddenly the whole system of government, and the making it treason to deny what, during many ages, it had been heresy to assert, is an event which may appear somewhat extraordinary. Even the stern, unrelenting mind of Henry was, at first, shocked with these sanguinary measures; and he went so far as to change his garb and dress, pretending sorrow for the necessity, by which he was pushed to such extremities. Still impelled, however, by his violent temper, and desirous of striking a terror into the whole nation, he proceeded, by making examples of Fisher and More, to consummate his lawless tyranny.

Trial and execution of Fisher, bishop of Rochester.

JOHN Fisher, bishop of Rochester, was a prelate, eminent for his learning and morals, no less than for his ecclesiastical dignities, and for the high favour which he had long possessed with the King. When he was thrown into prison, on account of his refusing the oath of succession, and his concealment of Elizabeth Barton's treasonable speeches, he had not only been deprived of all his revenues, but stripped of his very cloaths, and, without consideration of his extreme age, was allowed nothing but rags, which scarce sufficed to cover his nakedness[*]. In this condition, he lay in prison above a twelvemonth; when the pope, willing to recompense the sufferings of so faithful an adherent, created him a cardinal; tho' Fisher was so careless of that dignity, that even if the purple were lying on the ground, he declared that he would not stoop to take it. This promotion of a man, merely for his opposition to royal authority, rouzed the indignation of the King; and he resolved to make the innocent person feel the effects of his resentment.
22d of June.

Fisher was indicted for denying the King's supremacy, was tried, condemned, and beheaded.

Of Sir Thomas More.

THE execution of this prelate was intended as a warning to More, whose compliance, on account of his great authority both abroad and at home, and his high reputation for learning and virtue, was anxiously desired by the King. That prince also bore as great personal affection and regard to More, as his imperious mind, the sport of passions, was sus•eptible of towards a man, who in any particular, opposed his violent inclinations. But More could never be prevailed on, contrary to his principles, to acknowledge the King's supremacy; and tho' Henry exacted that compliance from the whole nation, there was, as yet, no law obliging any one to take an oath to that purpose. Rich, the sollicitor general, was sent to confer with More, then a prisoner, who kept a cautious silence with regard to the supremacy: He was only inveigled to say, that any question with regard to the law, which established that prerogative, was like a two-edged sword: If a person answer one way, it will confound his soul; if another, it will destroy his body. No more was wanted to found an indictment of high treason against the prisoner. His silence was called malicious, and made a part of his crime; and these words, which had casually dropped from him, were interpreted as a denial of the supremacy[*]. Trials were mere formalities during this reign: The jury gave sentence against More, who had long expected this fate, and who needed no preparation to fortify him against the terrors of death. Not only his constancy, but even his cheerfulness, nay, his usual facetiousness, never forsook him; and he made a sacrifice of his life to his integrity with the same indifference that he maintained in any ordinary occurrence. When he was mounting the scaffold, he said to one, "Friend, help me up, and when I go down again let me shift for myself." The executioner asking him forgiveness, he granted the request, but told him, "You will never get credit by beheading me, my neck is so short." Then laying his head on the block, he bid the executioner stay till he put aside his beard: "For," said he, "it never committed treason." Nothing was wanting to the glory of this end, except a better cause, more free from weakness and superstition. But as the man followed his principles and sense of duty, however misguided, his constancy and integrity are equally objects of our admiration.
6th July.

He was beheaded in the fifty-third year of his age.

WHEN the execution of Fisher and More was reported at Rome, especially that of the former, who was invested with the dignity of cardinal, every one discovered the most violent rage against the King; and numerous libels were published, by the wits and orators of Italy, comparing him to Caligula, Nero, Domitian, and all the most unrelenting tyrants of antiquity. Clement the seventh had died about six months after he pronounced sentence against the King; and Paul the third, of the name of Farnese, had succeeded to the papal throne. This pontiff, who had always favoured Henry's cause while a cardinal, had hoped, that, personal animosities being buried with his predecessors, it might not be impossible to form an agreement with England: And Henry himself was so desirous of accommodating matters, that in a negotiation, which he entered into with Francis a little before this time, he required, that that monarch should conciliate a friendship between him and the court of Rome. But Henry was accustomed to prescribe, not to receive terms; and even while he was negotiating peace, his usual violence often carried him to commit offences, which rendered the quarrel totally incurable.
30th August.

The execution of Fisher was regarded by Paul, as so capital an injury, that he immediately passed censures against the King, citing him and all his adherents to appear in Rome within ninety days, in order to answer for their crimes:
King excommunicated.

If they failed, he excommunicated them; deprived the King of his realm; subjected the kingdom to an interdict; declared his issue by Anne Boleyn illegitimate; dissolved all leagues with him; gave his kingdom to any invader; commanded the nobility to take arms against him; freed his subjects from all oaths of allegiance; cut off their commerce with foreign states; and declared it lawful for any one to seize them, to make slaves of their persons, and to convert their effects to their own use[*]. But tho' these censures were passed, they were not at that time openly denounced: The pope delayed the publication, till he should find an agreement with England entirely desperate; and till the emperor, who was at present pressed by the Turks and the protestant princes in Germany, should be in a condition to execute the censures.

THE King knew, that he might expect any injury, which it should be in Charles's power to inflict; and he therefore made it the chief object of his policy to incapacitate that monarch from wreaking his resentment upon him[†]. He renewed his friendship with Francis, and opened negotiations for marrying his infant-daughter, Elizabeth, with the duke of Angouleme, third son of Francis. These two princes also made advances to the protestant league in Germany, who were ever jealous of the emperor's ambition: And Henry, besides remiting them some money, sent Fox, bishop of Hereford, as Francis did Bellay, lord of Langey, to treat with those princes. But during the first fervours of the reformation, an agreement in theological tenets was held, as well as an union of interest, to be essential to a good correspondence among states; and tho' both Francis and Henry flattered the German princes with hopes of their embracing the confession of Ausbourg, it was looked upon as a bad symptom of their sincerity, that they exercised such extreme rigour against all preachers of the reformation in their respective dominions[‡]. Henry carried the feint so far, that, while he thought himself the first theologian in the world, he yet invited over Melancthon, Bucer, Sturmius, Draco, and other German divines, in order to confer with him, and to instruct him in the foundation of their tenets. These theologians were now of great importance in the world; and no poet or philosopher, even in antient Greece, where they were treated with most respect, had ever reached equal applause and admiration with these wretched composers of metaphysical polemics. The German princes told the King, that they could not spare their divines; and as Henry had no hopes of agreement with such zealous disputants, and knew that in Germany the followers of Luther would not associate with the disciples of Zuinglius, because, tho' they agreed in every thing else, they differed in some particulars with regard to the eucharist, he was the more indifferent on account of this refusal. He could also fores•e, that even while the league of Smalcalde did not act in concert with him, they would always be carried by their interest to oppose the emperor: And the hatred between Francis and that monarch was so inveterate, that he esteemed himself sure of a sincere ally in one or other of these potentates.

DURING these negotiations an incident happened in England, which promised a more amicable conclusion of these disputes, and seemed even to open a way for a reconcilement between Henry and Charles. Queen Catherine was seized with a lingering illness, which at last brought her to her grave: She died at
6th January.

Kimbolton in the county of Huntingdon, in the fiftieth year of her age. A
Death of Queen Catherine.

little before she expired, she wrote a very tender letter to the King; where she gave him the appellation of her most dear Lord, King, and Husband. She told him, that as the hour of her death was now approaching, she laid hold of this last opportunity to inculcate on him the importance of his religious duty, and the comparative emptiness of all human grandeur and enjoyment: That tho' his fondness towards these perishing advantages had thrown her into many calamities, as well as created to himself much trouble, she yet forgave him all past injuries, and hoped that this pardon would be ratified in heaven: And that she had no other request to make, but to recommend to him his daughter, the sole pledge of their loves, and to crave his protection for her maids and servants. She concluded with these words, I make this vow, that mine eyes desire you above all things [*]. The King was touched, even to the shedding of tears, by this last tender proof of Catherine's affection; but Queen Anne is said to have expressed her joy for the death of a rival beyond what decency or humanity could permit[†].

THE emperor thought, that as the decease of his aunt had removed all foundation for personal animosity between him and Henry, it might not now be impossible to detach him from the alliance of France, and renew that confederacy with England from which he had formerly reaped so much advantage. He sent Henry proposals for a return to ancient amity, upon these conditions[‡]; that he should be reconciled to the pope, that he should assist him in his war with the Turk, and that he should take party with him against Francis, who now threatened the dutchy of Milan. The King replied, that he was willing to be on good terms with the emperor, provided he would acknowledge, that the former breach of friendship came entirely from himself: As to the conditions proposed; the proceedings against the bishop of Rome were so just, and so fully ratified by the Parliament of England, that they could not now be revoked; when christian princes should have settled peace among themselves, he would not fail exert that vigour, which became him, against the enemies of the faith; and after amity with the emperor was once fully restored, he would then be in a situation, as a common friend both to him and Francis, either to mediate an agreement between them, or to assist the injured party.

WHAT rendered Henry more indifferent to the advances made by the emperor, was his experience of the usual duplicity and insincerity of that monarch, and the intelligence which he received of the present transactions in Europe. Francis Sforza, duke of Milan, was dead without issue; and the emperor maintained, that the dutchy, being a fief of the empire, was devolved to him, as the head of the Germanic body: Not to give umbrage, however, to the states of Italy, he professed his intention of bestowing that principality on some prince, who should be obnoxious to no party, and he even made offer of it to the duke of Angouleme, third son to Francis. The French monarch, who pretended that his own right to Milan was now revived upon Sforza's death, was contented to substitute his second son, the duke of Orleans, in his place; and the emperor pretended to close with this proposal. But his sole intention in that liberal concession was to gain time, till he should put himself in a warlike posture, and be able to carry an invasion into Francis's dominions. The antient enmity between these princes broke out anew in bravadoes, and in personal insults on each other, not becoming persons of their rank, and still less suitable to men of such unquestioned bravery. Charles soon after invaded Provence in person, with an army of fifty thousand men; but met with no success. His army perished with sickness, fatigue, famine, and other disasters; and he was obliged to raise the siege of Marseilles, and retire into Italy with the broken remains of his forces. An army of imperialists, near 30,000 strong, which invaded France on the side of the Netherlands, and laid siege to Peronne, made no greater progress, but retired upon the approach of a French army. And Henry had thus the satisfaction to find, both that his ally, Francis, was likely to support himself without foreign assistance, and that his own tranquillity was fully ensured by these violent wars and animosities on the continent.

IF any inquietude remained with the English court, it was solely occasioned by the state of affairs in Scotland. James, hearing of the distressed situation of his ally, Francis, very generously levied some forces; and embarking them on board vessels, which he had hired for that purpose, landed them safely in France. He even came over in person; and making haste to join the French King's camp, which then lay in Provence, and to partake of his danger, he met that prince at Lyons, who, having repulsed the emperor's invasion, was now returning to his capital. Recommended by so agreeable and seasonable an instance of friendship, the King of Scots made suit to Magdalen, daughter to the French monarch, who had no other scruple in agreeing to the match, than what was derived from the infirm state of his daughter's health, which seemed to threaten her with an approaching end. But James having gained the affections of the princess, and obtained her consent, the father would no longer oppose the united desires of his daughter and friend; and they were accordingly married, and soon after set sail for Scotland, where the young Queen, as was foreseen, died in a little time after her arrival. Francis, however, was afraid, lest his ally, Henry, whom he likewise looked on as his friend, and who lived with him on a more cordial footing than is usual among great princes, should be displeased that this close confederacy between France and Scotland was concluded without his participation. He therefore dispatched Pommeraye to London, in order to apologize for this measure; but Henry, with his usual openness and freedom, expressed such displeasure, that he refused even to confer with the ambassador; and Francis was apprehensive of a rupture with a prince, who regulated his measures more by humour and passion than by the rules of political prudence. But Henry was so fettered by the opposition, in which he was engaged against the pope and the emperor, that he pursued no farther this disgust against Francis; and in the end every thing remained in tranquillity both on the side of France and Scotland.

THE domestic peace of England seemed to be exposed to more hazard, by the violent innovations in religion; and it may be affirmed, that, in this dangerous conjuncture, nothing ensured public tranquillity so much as the decisive authority acquired by the King, and his great ascendant over all his subjects. Not only the devotion paid the crown, was profound during that age: The personal respect, inspired by Henry, was considerable; and even the terrors, with which he over-awed every one, were not attended with any considerable degree of hatred. His frankness, his sincerity, his magnificence, his generosity, were virtues which counterballanced his violence, cruelty, and impetuosity. And the important rank, which his vigour, more than address, acquired him in all foreign negotiations, flattered the vanity of Englishmen, and made them the more willingly endure those domestic hardships, to which they were exposed. The King, conscious of his advantages, was now proceeding to the most dangerous trial of his authority; and after paving the way for that measure by several expedients, he was at last determined to suppress the monasteries, and to put himself in possession of their ample revenues.

THE great encrease of monasteries, if matters be considered merely in a political light, will appear the radical inconvenience of the catholic religion; and every other disadvantage, attending that communion, seems to have an inseparable connection with these religious institutions. Papal usurpations, the tyranny of the inquisition, the multiplication of holidays; all these letters on liberty and industry, were ultimately derived from the authority and insinuation of monks, who being scattered every where, proved so many colonies of superstition and of folly. This order of men were extremely enraged against Henry; and regarded the abolition of the papal authority in England, as the removal of the sole protection which they enjoyed against the rapacity of the crown and of the courtiers. They were now subjected to the King's visitation; the supposed sacredness of their bulls from Rome was rejected; the progress of the reformation abroad, which had every where been attended with the abolition of the monastic state, gave them reason to expect like consequences in England; and tho' the King still maintained the ancient doctrine of purgatory, to which most of the convents owed their origin and support, it was foreseen, that, in the progress of the contest, he would every day be led to depart wider from antient institutions, and be drawn nearer the tenets of the reformers, with whom his political interests naturally induced him to ally himself. Moved by these considerations, the friars made use of all their influence to enflame the people against the King's government; and Henry, finding their safety irreconcilable with his own, was determined to seize the present opportunity, and utterly destroy his declared enemies.

CROMWEL, secretary of state, had been appointed vicar-general, or vicegerent, a new office, by which the King's supremacy, or the absolute, uncontroulable power assumed over the church, was delegated to him. He employed Layton, London, Price, Gage, Petre, Bellasis, and others, as commissioners, who carried on, every where, a rigorous enquiry with regard to the conduct and deportment of all the friars. During times of faction, especially of the religious kind, no equity is to be expected from adversaries; and as it was known, that the King's intention in this visitation, was to find a pretence for abolishing monasteries, we may naturally conclude, that the reports of the commissioners are very little to be relied on. Friars were encouraged to bring in informations against their brethren; the slightest evidence was credited; and even the calumnies spread abroad by the friends to the reformation, were regarded as grounds of proof. Monstrous disorders are therefore said to have been found in many of the religious houses: Whole convents of women abandoned to lewdness: Signs of abortions procured, of infants murdered, of unnatural lusts between persons of the same sex. It is indeed probable, that the blind submission of the people, during those ages, would render the friars and nuns more unguarded, and more dissolute, than they are in any roman catholic country at present: But still, the reproaches, which it is safest to credit, are such as point at vices, naturally connected with the very institution of convents, and with the monastic life. The cruel and inveterate factions and quarrels therefore which the commissioners mentioned, are very credible, among men, who, being confined together within the same walls, never can forget their mutual animosities, and who, being cut off from all the most endearing connections of nature, are commonly cursed with hearts more selfish, and tempers more unrelenting, than fall to the share of other men. The pious frauds, practised to increase the devotion and liberality of the people, may be regarded as certain, in an order founded on illusions, lies, and superstition. The supine idleness, also, and its attendant, profound ignorance, with which the convents were reproached, admit of no question; and tho' monks were the true preservers, as well as inventors, of the dreaming and captious philosophy of the schools, no manly or elegant knowledge could be expected among men, whose life, condemned to a tedious uniformity, and deprived of all emulation, afforded nothing to raise the mind, or cultivate the genius.

SOME few monasteries, terrified with this rigorous inquisition carried on by Cromwel and his commissioners, surrendered their revenues into the King's hands; and the monks received small pensions as the reward of their obsequiousness. Orders were given to dismiss such nuns and friars as were below four and twenty, and whose vows were, on that account, supposed not to be binding. The doors of the convents were opened, even to such as were above that age; and all those recovered their liberty who desired it. But as all these expedients did not fully answer the King's purpose, he had recourse to his usual instrument of power, the Parliament; and in order to prepare men for the innovations projected, the report of the visitors was published, and a general horror was endeavoured to be excited in the nation against institutions which, to their ancestors, had been the objects of the most profound veneration.

4 February.

A Parliament.

THE King, tho' determined to abolish utterly the monastic order, resolved to proceed gradually in this great work; and he gave directions to the Parliament to go no further at present, than to suppress the lesser monasteries, who possessed revenues below two hundred pounds a year value[*]. These were found to be the most corrupted, as lying less under the restraint of shame, and being exposed to less scrutiny[†]; and it was esteemed safest to begin with them, and thereby prepare the way for the greater innovations projected.
Suppression of the lesser monasteries.

By this act three hundred and seventy six monasteries were suppressed, and their revenues, amounting to thirty two thousand pounds a year, were granted to the King; besides their goods, chattels, and plate, computed at a hundred thousand pounds more[‡]. It appears not that any opposition was made to this important law: So absolute was Henry's authority! A court, called the court of augmentation of the King's revenue, was appointed for the management of these funds. The people naturally concluded, from the erection of this court, that Henry intended to proceed in spoiling the church of her patrimony‖.

THE act formerly passed, empowering the King to name thirty-two commissioners for framing a body of canon law, was renewed; but the project was never carried into execution. Henry thought, that the present confusion of that law encreased his authority, and kept the clergy in still greater dependance.

FARTHER progress was made in compleating the union of Wales with England: The separate jurisdictions of several great lords or marchers, as they were called, which obstructed the course of justice in Wales, and encouraged robbery and pillaging, were abolished; and the authority of the King's courts was extended every where. Some jurisdictions of a like nature in England were also abolished[§]this session.

THE commons, sensible that they had gained nothing by opposing the King's will, when he formerly endeavoured to secure the profits of wardships and liveries, were now contented to frame a law[*], such as he dictated to them. It was enacted, that the possession of land shall be adjudged to be in those who have the use of it, not in those to whom it is transferred in trust.

14 April.

AFTER all these laws were passed, the King dissolved the Parliament; a Parliament memorable, not only for the great and important innovations which it introduced, but also for the long time it had sat, and the frequent prorogations which it had undergone. Henry had found it so obsequious to his will, that he did not chuse, during these religious ferments, to hazard a new election; and he continued the same Parliament above six years: A practice, at that time, quite unprecedented in England.

A convocation.

THE convocation, which sat during this session, were engaged in a very important work, the deliberating on the new translation which was projected of the scriptures. Tindal had formerly given a translation, and it had been greedily read by the people; but as the clergy complained of it, as very inaccurate and unfaithful, it was now proposed that they should themselves publish a translation, which would not be liable to those objections. The friends of the reformation asserted, that nothing could be more absurd than to conceal, in an unknown tongue, the word itself of God, and thus to counteract the will of heaven, which, for the purpose of universal salvation, had published that salutary doctrine to all nations: That if this practice was not very absurd, the artifice at least was very barefaced, and proved a consciousness, that the glosses and traditions of the clergy stood in direct opposition to the original text, dictated by Supreme Intelligence: That it was now necessary for the people, so long abused by interested pretensions, to see with their own eyes, and to examine whether the claims of the ecclesiastics were founded on that charter, which was on all hands acknowledged to be derived from heaven: And that as a spirit of research and curiosity was happily revived, and men were now obliged to make a choice among the pretensions of different sects, the proper materials for decision, and above all, the holy scriptures, should be set before them, and the revealed will of God, which the change of language had somewhat obscured, be again, by their means, revealed to mankind.

THE favourers of the ancient religion maintained, on the other hand, that the pretence of making the people see with their own eyes, was a mere cheat, and was itself a very barefaced artifice, by which the new preachers hoped to obtain the guidance of them, and seduce them from those pastors, whom the laws, whom ancient establishments, whom heaven itself had appointed for their spiritual direction: That the people were, by their ignorance, their stupidity, their necessary avocations, totally unqualified to choose their own principles, and it was a mocquery to set materials before them, of which they could not possibly make any proper use: That even in the affairs of common life, and in their temporal concerns, which lay more within the compass of human reason, the laws had, in a great measure, deprived them of the right of private judgment, and had, happily, for their own and the public interest, regulated their conduct and behaviour: That theological questions were placed much beyond the sphere of vulgar comprehension; and ecclesiastics themselves, tho' assisted by all the advantages of education, erudition, and an assiduous study of the science, could not be fully assured of a just decision; except by the promise made them in scripture, that God would be ever present with his church, and that the gates of hell should not prevail against her: That the gross errors adopted by the wisest heathens, proved how unfit men were to grope their own way, thro' this profound darkness; nor would the scriptures, if trusted to every man's judgment, be able to remedy; on the contrary, they would much augment, these fatal illusions: That sacred writ itself was involved in so much obscurity, was exposed to so many difficulties, contained so many appearing contradictions, that it was the most dangerous weapon which could be intrusted into the hands of the ignorant and giddy multitude: That the poetical spirit, in which a great part of it was composed, at the same time that it occasioned uncertainty in the sense, by its multiplied tropes and figures, was sufficient to kindle the zeal of fanaticism, and thereby throw civil society into the most furious combustion: That a thousand sects must arise, which would pretend, each of them, to derive its tenets from the scripture; and would be able, by specious arguments, or even without specious arguments, to seduce silly women, and ignorant mechanics, into a belief of the most monstrous principles: And that if ever this disorder, dangerous to the magistrate himself, received a remedy, it must be from the tacit acquiescence of the people in some new authority; and it was evidently better, without farther contest or enquiry, to adhere peaceably to ancient, and therefore the more secure establishments.

THESE latter arguments being more agreeable to ecclesiastical government, would probably have prevailed in the convocation, had it not been for the authority of Cranmer, Latimer, and some other bishops, who were supposed to speak the King's sense of the matter. A vote was passed for publishing a new translation of the scriptures; and in three years time this great work was finished, and printed at Paris. This was deemed a great point gained by the reformers; and a considerable advancement of their cause. Farther progress was soon expected, after such important successes.

BUT while the retainers to the new religion were triumphing in their prosperity, they met with a mortification, which seemed to blast all their hopes:
Disgrace of Q. Anne.

Their patroness, Anne Boleyn, lost the King's favour, and soon after her life, from the rage of that furious monarch. Henry had persevered constantly in his love to this lady, during six years that his prosecution of the divorce lasted; and the more obstacles he met with to the gratification of his passion, the more determined zeal did he exert in pursuing his purpose. But the affection which had subsisted so long under difficulties, had no sooner attained secure possession of its object, than it languished from satiety; and the King's heart was apparently alienated from his consort. Anne's enemies soon perceived this fatal change; and they were very forward to widen the breach, when they found that they incurred no danger by interposing in those delicate concerns. She had brought forth a dead son; and Henry's extreme fondness for male issue being thus, for the present, disappointed, his temper, equally violent and superstitious, was disposed to make the innocent mother answerable for this misfortune[*]. But the chief means which Anne's enemies employed to enflame the King against her, was his jealousy.

ANNE, tho' she appears to have been entirely innocent, and even virtuous, in her conduct, had a certain gaiety, if not levity, of character, which threw her off her guard, and made her less circumspect than her situation required. Her education in France rendered her the more prone to these freedoms; and it was with difficulty she conformed herself to that strict ceremonial which was practised in the court of England. More vain than haughty, she was pleased to see the influence of her beauty on all around her, and she indulged herself in an easy familiarity with persons, who were formerly her equals, and who might then have pretended to her friendship and good graces. Henry's dignity was offended with these popular manners; and tho' the lover had been entirely blind, the husband possessed but too quick discernment and penetration. Wicked instruments interposed, and put a malignant interpretation on the harmless liberties of the Queen: The viscountess of Rocheford, in particular, who was married to the Queen's brother, but who lived on bad terms with her sister-in-law, insinuated the most cruel suspicions into the King's mind; and as she was a woman of a very profligate character, she paid no regard either to truth or humanity in those calumnies which she suggested. She pretended, that her own husband was engaged in a criminal correspondence with his sister; and not contented with this imputation, she poisoned every action of the Queen, and represented each instance of favour which she conferred on any one, as a token of affection. Henry Norris, groom of the stole, Weston, and Brereton, gentlemen of the King's chamber, together with Mark Smeton, groom of the chamber, were observed to possess much of the Queen's friendship; and they served her with a zeal and attachment which, tho' chiefly derived from gratitude, might not improbably be seasoned with some mixture of tenderness for so amiable a princess. The King's jealousy laid hold of the slightest circumstance; and finding no particular object on which it could fasten, it vented itself equally on every one who came within the verge of its fury.

HAD Henry's jealousy been derived from love, tho' it might on a sudden have proceeded to the most violent extremities, it would have been subject to many remorses and contrarieties; and might at last have served only to augment that affection, on which it was founded. But it was a more stern jealousy, fostered entirely by pride: His love was wholly transferred to another object. Jane Seymour, daughter of Sir John Seymour, and maid of honour to the Queen, a young lady of singular beauty and merit, had obtained an entire ascendant over him; and he was determined to sacrifice every thing to the gratification of this new appetite. Unlike to most monarchs, who judge lightly of the crime of gallantry, and who deem the young damsels of their court rather honoured than disgraced by their passion, he never thought of any other attachment than that of marriage; and in order to attain this end, he underwent more difficulties and committed greater crimes than those which he sought to avoid by forming that legal connexion. And having thus entertained the design of raising his new mistress to his bed and throne, he more willingly hearkened to every suggestion, which threw any imputation of guilt on the unfortunate Anne Boleyn.

1st May.

THE King's jealousy first appeared openly in a tilting at Greenwich, where the Queen happened to drop her handkerchief; an incident probably casual, but interpreted by him as an instance of gallantry to some of her paramours[*]. He immediately retired from the place; sent orders to confine her to her chamber; arrested Norris, Brereton, Weston, and Smeton, together with her brother, Rocheford; and threw them into prison. The Queen, astonished at these instances of his fury, thought that he meant only to try her; but finding him in earnest, she reflected on his obstinate unrelenting spirit, and she prepared herself for that melancholy doom, which was awaiting her. Next day, she was sent to the Tower; and on her way thither, she was informed of her supposed offences, of which she had been hitherto ignorant: She made earnest protestations of her innocence; and when she entered the prison, she fell on her knees, and prayed God so to help her, as she was not guilty of the crime imputed to her. Her surprize and confusion threw her into histerical disorders; and in that situation, she thought that the best proof of innocence was to make an entire confession, and she discovered some indiscretions and levities, which her simplicity had equally betrayed her to commit and to avow. She owned, that she had once rallied Norris on his delaying his marriage, and had told him, that he probably expected her, when she should be a widow: She had reproved Weston, she said, for his affection to a kinswoman of hers, and his indifference towards his wife: But he told her, that she had mistaken the object of his affection, for it was herself: Upon which, she defied him[†]. She affirmed, that Smeton had never been in her chamber but twice when he played on the harpsicord: But she acknowledged, that he had once had the boldness to tell her, that a look sufficed him. The King, instead of being satisfied with the candour and sincerity of her confession, regarded these indiscretions only as preludes to greater and more criminal intimacies.

OF all those multitudes, whom the beneficence of the Queen's temper had obliged, during her prosperous fortune, no one durst interpose between her and the King's fury; and the person, whose advancement every breath had favoured, and every countenance had smiled upon, was now left neglected and abandoned. Even her uncle the duke of Norfolk, preferring the connexions of party to the t•es of blood, was become her most dangerous enemy; and all the retainers to the catholic religion hoped, that her death would terminate the King's quarrel with Rome, and leave him again to his natural and early bent, which had inclined him to support the most intimate connexions with the apostolic •ee. Cranmer alone, of all the Queen's adherents, still retained his friendship for her; and, as far as the King's impetuosity permitted him, he endeavoured to moderate the violent prejudices, entertained against her.

THE Queen herself wrote Henry a letter from the Tower, full of the most tender expostulations, and of the warmest protestations of innocence. It contains so much nature and even elegance, as to deserve to be transmitted to posterity, without any alteration of the expression. It is as follows.

SIR, your grace's displeasure, and my imprisonment are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant. Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and so obtain your favour) by such an one, whom you know to be mine antient professed enemy, I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly conceived your meaning; and, if, as you say, confessing a truth indeed may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty perform your command.

BUT let not your grace ever imagine, that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne Boleyn: With which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as I now find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration I knew was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other object. You have chosen me from a low estate to be your Queen and companion, far beyond my desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your grace let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. Try me, good King, but let me have a lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea let me receive an open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame; then shall you see either mine innocence cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure, and mine offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection, already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some good while since have pointed unto, your grace not being ignorant of my suspicion therein.

BUT if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of your desired happiness; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof, and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, at his general judgment-seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment I doubt not (whatsoever the world may think of me) mine innocence shall be openly known, and sufficiently cleared.

MY last and only request shall be, that myself may only bear the burden of your grace's displeasure, and that it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I understand) are likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight, if ever the name of Anne Boleyn hath been pleasing in your ears, then let me obtain this request, and I will so leave to trouble your grace any further, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your grace in his good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions. From my doleful prison in the Tower, this sixth of May;

Your most loyal and ever faithful wife, ANNE BOLEYN.

Her trial.

THIS letter had no influence on the unrelenting mind of Henry, who was determined to pave the way for his new marriage by the death of Anne Boleyn. Norris, Weston, Brereton, and Smeton, were tried; but no legal evidence was produced against them. The chief proof of their guilt consisted in a hear-say report from one lady Wingfield, who was dead. Smeton was prevailed on, by the vain hope of life, to confess a criminal correspondence with the Queen[*]; but even her enemies expected little advantage from this confession: For they never dared to confront him with her; and he was immediately executed; as were also Brereton and Weston. Norris had been much in the King's favour; and an offer was made him of life, if he would confess his crime, and accuse the Queen: But he generously rejected that proposal; and said, that in his conscience he believed her entirely guiltless: But, for his part, he could accuse her of nothing, and he would die a thousand deaths rather than calumniate an innocent person.

THE Queen and her brother were tried by a jury of peers, consisting of the duke of Suffolk, the Marquis of Exeter, the earl of Arundel, and twenty-three more: Their uncle, the duke of Norfolk, presided as lord high steward. Upon what proof or pretext the crime of incest was imputed to them is unknown: The chief evidence, it is said, amounted to no more than that Rocheford had been seen to lean on her bed before some company. Part of the charge against her was, that she had affirmed to her minions, that the King never had her heart; and had said to each of them apart, that she loved him better than any person whatsoever: Which was to the slander of the issue begot between the King and her: By this strained interpretation, her guilt was brought under the statute of the 25th of this reign; in which it was declared criminal to throw any slander upon the King, Queen, or their issue. Such palpable absurdities were, at that time, admitted, and they were regarded by the peers of England as a sufficient reason for sacrificing an innocent Queen to the cruelty of their tyrant. Tho' unassisted by counsel, she defended herself with great judgment and presence of mind; and the spectators could not forbear pronouncing her entirely innocent. Judgment, however, was given by the court, both against the Queen and lord Rocheford; and her verdict contained, that she should be burned or beheaded at the King's pleasure. When this dreadful sentence was pronounced, she was not terrified, but lifting up her hands to heaven, said, "O! Father, O! Creator, thou who art the way, the truth, and the life, thou knowest that I have not deserved this death." And then turning to the judges, made the most pathetic declarations of her innocence.

HENRY, not satisfied with this cruel vengeance, was resolved entirely to annul his marriage with Anne Boleyn, and to declare her issue illegitimate: He recalled to his memory, that, a little after her appearance in the English court, some attachment had been acknowledged between her and the earl of Northumberland, then lord Piercy; and he now questioned the nobleman with regard to these engagements. Northumberland took an oath before the two archbishops, that no contract nor promise of marriage had ever passed between them: He received the sacrament upon it, before the duke of Norfolk and others of the privy council; and this solemn act he accompanied with the most solemn protestations of his veracity. [*]. The Queen, however, was shaken by menaces of executing the sentence against her in its greatest rigour, and was prevailed on to confess in court, some lawful impediment to her marriage with the King[†]. The afflicted primate, who sat as judge, thought himself obliged by this confession, to pronounce the marriage null and invalid. Henry, in the transports of his fury, did not perceive that his proceedings were totally inconsistent, and that if her marriage was, from the beginning, invalid, she could not possibly be guilty of adultery.

And execution.

THE Queen now prepared for suffering that death to which she was sentenced. She sent her last message to the King, and acknowledged the obligations which she owed him, in continuing thus uniformly his endeavours for her advancement: From a private gentlewoman, she said, he had first made her a marchioness, then a queen, and now, since he could raise her no higher in this world, he was sending her to be a saint in heaven: She then renewed the protestations of her innocence, and recommended her daughter to his care. Before the lieutenant of the Tower, and all who approached her, she made the like declarations; and continued to behave herself with her usual serenity, and even with chearfulness. "The executioner," she said to the lieutenant, "is, I hear, very expert; and my neck is very slender:"
29th May.

Upon which she grasped it in her hand, and laughed heartily. When brought, however, to the scaffold, she softened her tone a little with regard to her protestations of innocence. She reflected, that the obstinacy of Queen Catherine, and her resistance to the King's will, had much alienated him from the lady Mary; and her maternal concern, therefore, for Elizabeth, prevailed in these last moments over that indignation, which the unjust sentence, by which she suffered, naturally excited in her. She said, that she was come to die, as she was sentenced, by the law: She would accuse none, nor say any thing of the ground upon which she was judged. She prayed heartily for the King; and called him a most merciful and gentle prince, and acknowledged, that he had always been to her a good and gracious sovereign; and if any one should think proper to canvass her cause, she desired him to judge the best[‡]. She was beheaded by the executioner of Calais, who was brought over as more expert than any in England. Her body was negligently thrown into a common chest of elm-tree, made to hold arrows; and was buried in the Tower.

THE innocence of this unfortunate Queen cannot reasonably be called in question. Henry himself, in the violence of his rage, knew not whom to accuse as her lover; and tho' he imputed guilt to her brother, and four persons more, he was able to bring proof against none of them. The whole tenour of her conduct forbids us to ascribe to her an abandoned character, such as is implied in the King's accusation; and had she been so lost to all prudence and sense of shame; she must have exposed herself to detection, and afforded her enemies the clearest evidence against her. But the King made the most effectual apology for her, by marrying Jane Seymour the very day after her execution‖. His impatience to gratify this new passion, caused him to forget all regard to decency; and his cruel heart was not softened a moment by the bloody catastrophe of a person, who had so long been the object of his most tender affections.

THE lady Mary thought the death of her step-mother a proper opportunity for reconciling herself with the King, who, besides other causes of disgust, had been offended with her, on account of the part which she had taken in her mother's quarrel. Her advances were not at first received; and Henry exacted from her some further proofs of submission and obedience: He required this young princess, then about twenty years of age, to adopt his theological tenets; to acknowledge his supremacy; to renounce the pope; and to own her mother's marriage to be incestuous and unlawful. These points were of hard digestion with the princess; but after some delays, and even refusals, she was at last prevailed with to write a letter to her father[*], containing her assent to the articles required of her: Upon which she was received into favour. But notwithstanding the return of the King's affection to the issue of his first marriage, he divested not himself of kindness towards the lady Elizabeth; and the new Queen, who was blest with a singular sweetness of disposition, discovered strong proofs of attachment to that young princess.

8th June.

A Parliament.

THE trial and conviction of Queen Anne, and the subsequent events, made it necessary for the King to summon a new Parliament; and he here, in his speech, made a merit to his people, that, notwithstanding his misfortunes in his two former marriages, he had been induced, for their good, to venture on a third. The speaker received this profession with a suitable gratitude; and he took thence occasion to praise the King for his wonderful gifts of grace and nature: He compared him, for justice and prudence, to Solomon; for strength and fortitude to Sampson; and for beauty and comeliness to Absalom. The King very humbly replied, by the mouth of his chancellor, that he disavowed these praises; since, if he was really possessed of such virtues, they were the gifts of Almighty God only. Henry found that the Parliament were equally submissive in deeds as 〈◊〉 in their expressions; and that they would go the same lengths as the •o mer in gratifying even his most lawless passions. His divorce from Anne Boleyn was ratified; that Queen, and all her accomplices, were attainted; the issue of both the two former marriages were declared illegitimate, and it was even made treason to assert the legitimacy of either of them; to throw any slander upon the present King, Queen, or their issue, was subjected to the same penalty; the crown was settled on the King's issue by Jane Seymour, or any subsequent wife; and in case he should die without children, he was impowered by his will, or letters patent, to dispose of the crown: An enormous concession[†], especially when entrusted to a prince so violent and capricious in his humour. Whoever being required, refused to answer upon oath to any article of this act of settlement, was declared to be guilty of treason; and by this clause a species of political inquisition was established in the kingdom, as well as the accusations of treason multiplied to an unreasonable degree. The King was also empowered to confer on any one, by his will, or letters patent, any castles, honours, liberties, or franchises; words which might have been extended to the dismembring the kingdom, by the erection of principalities and independant jurisdictions. It was also, by another act, made treason to marry, without the King's consent, any princess related in the first degree to the crown. This act was occasioned by the discovery of a design, formed by Thomas Howard, brother to the duke of Norfolk, to espouse the lady Margaret Douglas, niece to the King by his sister the Queen of Scots and the earl of Angus. Howard, as well as the young lady, was committed to the Tower. She recovered her liberty soon after; but he died in that confinement. An act of attainder passed against him this session of parliament.

A NEW accession was likewise gained to the authority of the crown: The King or any of his successors was empowered to repeal or annul, by letters patent, whatever acts of parliament had been passed before he was four and twenty years of age. Whoever maintained the authority of the bishop of Rome, by word or writ, or endeavoured in any manner to restore it in England, was subjected to the penalty of a premunire; that is, his goods were forfeited, and he was put out of the protection of the laws. And any person who possessed any office, ecclesiastical or civil, or received any grant or charter from the crown; and yet refused to renounce the pope by oath, was declared to be guilty of treason. The renounciation prescribed runs in the style of So help me God, all saints, and the holy evangelists [‡]. The pope, hearing of Anne Boleyn's disgrace and death, hoped that the door was opened to a reconciliation, and had been making some advances to Henry: But this was the reception he met with. Henry was now become absolutely indifferent with regard to papal censures; and finding a great increase of authority, as well as revenue, to accrue from his quarrel with Rome, he was determined to persevere in his present measures. This Parliament also, even more than any foregoing, convinced him how much he commanded the respect of his subjects, and what confidence he might repose in them. Tho' the elections had been made of a sudden, without any preparation or intrigue, the members discovered an unlimited attachment to his person and government[‡].

A convocation.

THE extreme complaisance of the convocation, which sat at the same time with the Parliament, encouraged him in his resolution of breaking entirely with the court of Rome. There was a division of sentiments in the minds of this assembly; and as the zeal of the reformers had been augmented by s me late successes, the resentment of the catholics was no less excited by their fears and losses: But the authority of the King kept every thing submissive and silent; and the new assumed prerogative, the supremacy, whose limits no one was fully acquainted with, restrained even the most furious movements of theological rancour. Cromwel sat as vicar-general; and tho' the catholic party expected, that, on the fall of Queen Anne, his authority would receive a great check, they were surprized to find him still maintain equal credit as before. With the vicar-general concurred Cranmer the primate, Latimer bishop of Worcester, Shaxton of Salisbury, Hilsey of Rochester, Fox of Hereford, Barlow of St. David's. The opposite party were led by Lee archbishop of York, Stokesley bishop of London, Tonstal of Durham, Gardiner of Winchester, Longland of Lincoln, Sherborne of Chichester, Nix of Norwich, and Kite of Carlisle. The former party, by their opposition to the pope, seconded the King's ambition and love of power: The latter party, by maintaining the ancient theological tenets, were more conformable to his speculative principles: And both of them had alternately the advantage of gaining on his humour, by which he was more governed than by either of these motives.

THE church in general was averse to the reformation; and the lower house framed a list of opinions, in the whole sixty seven, which they pronounced erroneous, and which was a collection of principles, some held by the ancient Lollards, others by the modern protestants, or Gospellers, as they were sometimes called. This catalogue they sent to the upper house to be censured; but in the preamble of their representation, they discovered the servile spirit by which they were governed. They said,
"that they intended not to do or speak any thing which might be unpleasant to the King, whom they acknowledge their supreme head, and whose commands they were resolved to obey; renouncing the pope's usurped authority, with all his laws and inventions, now extinguished and abolished; and addicting themselves to Almighty God and his laws, and unto the King and the laws made within this kingdom[*]."

THE convocation came at last, after some debate, to decide articles of religion; and their tenets were of as compounded a nature as the assembly itself, or rather as the King's system of theology, by which they were resolved entirely to square their principles. They determined the standard of faith to consist in the scriptures and the three creeds, the Apostolic, the Nicene, and the Athanasian; and this article was a signal victory to the reformers: Auricular confession and pennance were admitted, a doctrine agreeable to the catholics: No mention was made of marriage, extreme unction, confirmation, or holy orders, as sacraments; and in this omission the influence of the protestants appeared. The real presence was asserted, conformable to the ancient doctrine: The terms of acceptance were established to be the merits of Christ, and the mercy and good pleasure of God, suitable to the new principles.

SO far the two sects seem to have made a fair partition, by sharing alternately the several clauses. In framing the subsequent articles, each of them seems to have thrown in their ingredient. The catholics prevailed in asserting, that the use of images was warranted by scripture; the protestants, in warning the people against idolatry, and the abuse of these sensible representations. The ancient faith was adopted in maintaining the expediency of praying to saints; the late innovations in rejecting the peculiar patronage of saints to any trade, profession, or course of action. The former rites of worship, the use of holy water, the ceremonies practised on Ash-wednesday, Palm-sunday, and Good-friday, &c. were still maintained; but the new resinements were also adopted, which made light of these institutions, by the convocation's denying that they had any immediate power of remitting sin, and by its asserting that their sole merit consisted in promoting pious and devout dispositions in the mind.

BUT the article with regard to purgatory, contains the most curious jargon, ambiguity, and hesitation, arising from the mixture of opposite tenets. It was to this purpose: "Since according to due order of charity, and the book of Maccabees, and divers ancient authors, it is a very good and charitable deed to pray for souls departed; and since such a practice has been maintained in the church from the beginning; all bishops and teachers should instruct the people not to be grieved for the continuance of the same. But since the place where departed souls are retained, before they reach Paradise, as well as the nature of their pains, is left uncertain by scripture; all such questions are to be submitted to God, to whose mercy it is meet and convenient to commend the deceased, trusting that he accepteth our prayers for them." [*]

THESE articles, when framed by the convocation, and corrected by the King, were subscribed by every member of that assembly; while, perhaps, neither there nor throughout the whole kingdom, could one man be found, except the King himself, who had adopted precisely these very doctrines and opinions. For tho' there be not any contradiction in the tenets here advanced, it had happened in England, as in all other states where factious divisions have place; a certain creed was embraced by each party; few neutrals were to be found; and these consisted only of speculative or whimsical people, of whom two persons could scarce be brought to an agreement in the same dogmas. The protestants, all of them, carried their opposition to Rome farther than these articles: None of the catholics went so far: And the King, by being able to retain the nation in such a delicate medium, displayed the utmost power of an imperious despotism, of which any history furnishes an example. To change the religion of a country, even when seconded by a party, is one of the most perilous enterprizes, which any sovereign can attempt, and often proves the most destructive to royal authority. But Henry was able to set that furious machine in movement, and yet regulate and even stop its career: He could say to it, thus far shalt thou go and no farther: And he made every vote of his parliament and convocation subservient, not only to his interests and passions, but even to his smallest caprices; nay, to his most refined and most scholastic subtilties.

THE concurrence of these two national assemblies served, no doubt, to increase the King's power among the people, and raised him to an authority more absolute, than any prince, in a simple monarchy, even by means of military force, is ever able to attain. But there are certain bounds, beyond which the most slavish submission cannot be extended. All the late innovations, particularly the dissolution of the smaller monasteries, and the imminent danger, to which all the rest were exposed[†], had bred discontent in the people, and disposed them to a revolt.
Discontents among the people.

The expelled monks, wandering about the country, excited both men's piety and compassion; and as the antient religion held the populace by powerful motives, suited to their capacity, it was able, now that it was brought in apparent hazard, to excite the strongest zeal in its favour[†]. Discontents had even reached some of the nobility and gentry, whose ancestors had founded the monasteries, and who placed a vanity in those institutions, as well as reaped some benefit from them, by the provisions, which they afforded them for their younger children. The more superstitious were interested in the fate of their forefathers souls, which, they believed, must now lye, during many ages, in the torments of purgatory, for want of masses to relieve them. It seemed unjust to abolish pious institutions for the faults, real or pretended, of individuals. Even the most moderate and reasonable thought it somewhat iniquitous, that men, who had been invited into a course of life by all the laws, human and divine, which prevailed in their country, should be turned out of their possessions, and so little care be taken of their future subsistance. And when it was observed, that the rapacity and bribery of the commissioners and others employed in visiting the monasteries, intercepted much of the profits resulting from these confiscations, it tended much to encrease the general discontent[‡].

BUT the people did not break out into open sedition, till the complaints of the secular clergy concured with those of the regular. As Cromwel's person was very little acceptable to the ecclesiastics; the authority, which he exercised, being so new, so absolute, so unlimited, inspired them with great disgust and terror. He published, in the King's name, without the consent either of parliament or convocation, an ordonance, by which he retrenched a great many of the antient holydays; prohibited several superstitions, gainful to the clergy, such as pilgrimages, images, relicts; and even ordered the incumbents in the parishes to set apart a considerable portion of their revenues for repairs and for the support of exhibitioners and the poor of their parish. The secular priests, finding themselves thus reduced to a grievous slavery, instilled into the people those discontents, which they had long harboured in their own bosoms.

Insurrection.

THE first rising was in Lincolnshire. It was headed by Dr. Mackrel, prior of Barlings, who was disguised like a mean mechanic, and who bore the name of captain Cobler. This tumultuous army amounted to above 20,000 men‖; but notwithstanding their number, they showed little disposition of proceeding to extremities against the King, and seemed still over-awed by his authority. They acknowleged him to be supreme head of the church of England; but they complained of his suppressing the monasteries, of evil counsellors, of men of mean birth entrusted by him, of the danger to which the jewels and plate of their parochial churches were exposed: And they prayed him to consult the nobility of the realm concerning the redress of these grievances[§]. The King was little disposed to entertain apprehensions of danger, especially from a low multitude, whom he despised.
6th of October.

He sent forces against the insurgents under the command of the Duke of Suffolk; and he returned them a very sharp answer to their petition. There were some gentry, whom the populace had forced to take party with them, and who kept a secret correspondence with Suffolk. They informed him, that resentment against the King's reply was the chief cause, which retained the malecontents in arms, and that a milder answer would probably dissipate the rebellion: Henry had levied a great force at London, with which he was preparing to march against the rebels; and being so well fortified with power, he thought, that, without losing his dignity, he might now show them some greater condescension. He sent a new proclamation, requiring them to return to their obedience, with secret assurances of pardon. This expedient had its effect: The populace were dissipated: Mackrel and some of their leaders fell into the King's hands, and were executed: The greater part of the multitude retired peaceably to their usual occupations: A few of the more obstinate fled into the North, where they joined the insurrection, that was raised in those parts.

THE northern insurgents, as they were more numerous, were also more formidable than those of Lincolnshire, because the people were more accustomed to arms, and because of the near neighbourhood to Scotland, which might make advantage of these disorders. One Aske, a gentleman, had taken the command of them, and he possessed the art of governing the populace. Their enterprize they called the Pilgrimage of Grace: Some priests marched before in the habits of their order, carrying crosses in their hands: In their banners was inwove a crucifix, with the representation of a chalice, and of the five wounds of Christ[*]: They wore on their sleeve an emblem of the five wounds, with the name of Jesus wrought in the midst: They all took an oath, that they had entered into the pilgrimage of grace from no other motive, than their love to God, their care of the King's person and issue▪ their desire of purifying the nobility, of driving base-born persons from about the King, of restoring the church, and of suppressing heresy. Allured by these fair pretences, about 40,000 men from the counties of York, Durham, Lancaster, and those northern provinces, flocked to their standard; and their zeal, no less than their numbers, inspired the court with apprehensions.

THE Earl of Shrewsbury, moved by his zeal for the King's service, raised forces, tho' at first without any commission, in order to oppose the rebels. The Earl of Cumberland repulsed them from his castle of Skipton: Sir Ralph Evers defended Scarborow-castle against them[†]: Courtney, marquess of Exeter, the King's cousin-german, obeyed orders from court, and levied troops. The earls of Huntingdon, Derby, and Rutland, imitated his example. The rebels, however, prevailed in taking both Hull and York: They laid siege to Pomfret castle, into which the archbishop of York and lord Darcy had thrown themselves. It was soon surrendered to them; and the prelate and nobleman, who secretly favoured the cause, seemed to yield to the force imposed on them, and joined the rebels.

THE duke of Norfolk was named general in chief of the King's forces against the northern insurgents; and as he headed the party, which supported the antient religion, he was also suspected of bearing some favour to the cause, which he was sent to oppose. His prudent conduct, however, seems to acquit him of this imputation. He encamped at Doncaster, together with the earl of Shrewsbury; and as his army was small, scarce exceeding five thousand men, he made choice of a post, where he had the river in front, the ford of which he proposed to desend against the rebels. They had intended to attack him in the morning; but during the night, there fell such violent rains as rendered the river utterly impassible; and Norfolk very wisely laid hold of the opportunity to enter into treaty with them. In order to open the door for negotiation, he sent them a herald; whom Aske, their leader, received with great ceremony; he himself sitting in a chair of state, with the archbishop of York on one hand, and lord Darcy on the other. It was agreed that two gentlemen should be dispatched to the King with proposals from the insurgents; and Henry protracted giving an answer, and allured them with hopes of entire satisfaction, in expectation that necessity would soon oblige them to disperse themselves. Being informed, that his artifice had in a great measure succeeded, he required them instantly to lay down their arms and submit to m•rcy; promising a pardon to all except six whom he named, and four whom he reserved to himself the power of naming. But tho' the greatest part of the rebels had gone home for want of subsistance, they had entered into the most solemn engagements to return to their standards, in case the King's answer should not prove satisfactory. Norfolk, therefore, soon found himself in the same difficulty as before; and he opened again a negotiation with the leaders of the multitude. He engaged them to send three hundred persons to Doncaster, with proposals for an accommodation; and he hoped to be able, by intrigue and separate interests, to throw dissension among so great a number. Aske himself had proposed to be one of the deputies, and he required a hostage for his security: But the King, when consulted, replied, that he knew no gentleman or other, whom he esteemed so little as to put him in pledge for such a villain. The demands of the insurgents were so exorbitant, that Norfolk rejected them; and they prepared again to decide the contest by force of arms. They were as formidable as ever both by their numbers and spirit; and notwithstanding a small river, which lay between them and the royal army, Norfolk had great reason to dread the effects of their fury. But while they were preparing to pass the ford, rain fell a second time in such abundance, as made it impracticable for them to execute their design; and the populace, partly reduced to necessity by the want of provisions, partly struck with superstition at being thus again disappointed by the same accident, suddenly dispersed themselves. The duke of Norfolk, who had received powers for that end, forwarded the dispersion, by the promise of a general amnesty; and the King ratified this act of clemency.
9th of December.

He published, however, a manifesto against the rebels, and an answer to their complaints; where he employed a very lofty style, suited to so haughty a monarch. He told them, that they ought no more to pretend giving a judgment with regard to government, than a blind man with regard to colours: "And we," he added, "with our whole council think it right strange, that ye, who be but brutes and inexpert folk, do take upon you to appoint us, who be meet or not for our council."

As this pacification was not likely to be of long continuance, Norfolk was ordered to keep his army together, and to go into the northern parts, in order to exact a general submission. Lord Darcy as well as Aske were sent for to court; and the former, upon his refusal or delay to appear, was thrown into prison. Every place was full of jealousy and complaints. A new insurrection broke out, headed by Musgrave and Tilby; and the rebels besieged Carlisle with 8000 men. Being repulsed by that town, they were encountered in their retreat by Norfolk, who put them to flight; and having made prisoners of all their officers, except Musgrave, who escaped, he instantly put them to death by martial law, to the number of seventy persons. An attempt made by Sir Francis Bigot and Halam to surprize Hull, met with no better success; and several other risings were suppressed by the vigilance of Norfolk. The King, enraged by these multiplied revolts, was determined not to adhere to the general pardon, which he had granted; and from a movement of his usual violence, he made the innocent suffer for the guilty. Norfolk, by command from his master, spread the royal banner, and, wherever he thought proper, executed martial law in the punishment of offenders. Besides Aske, leader of the first insurrection, Sir Robert Constable, Sir John Bulmer, Sir Thomas Piercy, Sir Stephen Hamilton, Nicholas Tempest, William Lumley, and many others, were thrown into prison; and most of them were condemned and executed. Lord Huffey was found guilty as an accomplice in the insurrection of Lincolnshire, and was executed at Lincoln. Lord Darcy, tho' he pleaded compulsion, and appealed to a long life, passed in the service of the crown, was beheaded on Tower-hill. Before his execution, he accused Norfolk of having secretly encouraged the rebels; but Henry, either sensible of that nobleman's great services and convinced of his fidelity, or afraid to offend one of such extensive power and great capacity, rejected the information. Being now satiated with punishing the rebels, he published anew a general pardon, to which he faithfully adhered[*]; and he erected by patent a court of justice at York, for deciding lawsuits to the northern counties: A demand which had been made by the insurgents.

12 October.

Birth of prince Edward, and death of Q. Jane.

SOON after this prosperous success against the rebels, an event happened, which crowned Henry's joy, the birth of a son, who was baptised under the name of Edward. Yet was not this happiness compleat: The Queen died twelve days after[†]. But a son had so long been ardently longed for by Henry, and was now become so necessary, in order to prevent disputes with regard to the succession, after the successive illegitimation of the two Princesses, that the King's affliction was drowned in his joy, and he expressed great satisfaction on this occasion. The Prince, not six days old, was created Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwal, and Earl of Chester. Sir Edward Seymour, the Queen's brother, formerly made Lord Beauchamp, was raised to the dignity of Earl of Hertford. Sir William Fitz Williams, high admiral, was created Earl of Southampton; Sir William Paulet, Lord St. John; Sir John Russel, Lord Russel.

THE suppression of the rebels and the birth of a son, as they confirmed Henry's authority at home, encreased his consideration among foreign princes, and made his alliance be courted by all parties. He maintained, however, a neutrality in the wars, which were carried on, with various success, and without any decisive event, between Charles and Francis; and tho' inclined more to favour the latter, he was determined not to incur, without necessity, either hazard or expence in his behalf. A truce, concluded about this time, between these potentates, and which was afterwards prolonged for ten years, freed him from all anxiety on account of his ally, and re-established the tranquillity of Europe.

HENRY was very desirous of cementing an union with the German protestants; and for that purpose, he sent Christopher Mount to a congress which they held at Brunswick; but that minister made no great progress in his negotiations. The princes desired to know, what were the articles in their confession which Henry disliked; and they sent new ambassadors to him, who had orders both to negotiate and to dispute. They endeavoured to convince the King, that he was guilty of a mistake, in administering the eucharist in one kind only, in allowing of private masses, and in requiring the celibacy of the clergy[*]. Henry would by no means acknowlege any error in these particulars; and was offended that they should pretend to prescribe rules to so great a monarch and theologian. He found arguments and syllogisms enough to defend his cause; and he dismissed the ambassadors without coming to any conclusion. Jealous also lest his own subjects should become such theologians as to question his tenets, he used great precautions in publishing that translation of the scripture, which was finished this year. He would only allow a copy of it to be deposited in each parish church, where it was fixed by a chain: And he took care to inform the people by proclamation, "That this indulgence was not the effect of his duty, but of his goodness and his liberality to them; who therefore should use it moderately, for the encrease of virtue, not of strife: And he ordered that no man should read the Bible aloud, so as to disturb the priest, while he sang mass, nor presume to expound doubtful places, without advice from the learned." In this measure, as in the rest, he still halted half way between the catholics and the protestants.

THERE was only one particular, in which Henry was quite decisive, because he was there impelled by his avarice, or more properly speaking, his rapacity, occasioned by profuseness: This measure was the entire destruction of the monasteries.
Suppression of the greater monasteries.

The present opportunity seemed favourable for that great enterprize; while the suppression of the late rebellion fortified and encreased the royal authority; and as some of the abbots were suspected of having encouraged the insurrection, and of corresponding with the rebels, the King's resentment was farther incited by that motive. A new visitation was appointed of all the monasteries in England; and a pretence only being wanted for their suppression, it was easy for a prince, possessed of such exorbitant power, and seconding the present humour of a great part of the nation, to find or feign one. The abbots and monks knew the danger, to which they were exposed; and having learned, by the example of the lesser monasteries, that nothing could withstand the King's will, they were most of them induced, in expectation of better treatment, to make a voluntary resignation of their houses. Where promises failed of effect, menaces and even extreme violence were employed; and as several of the abbots, since the breach with Rome, had been named by the court, with a view to this event, the King's intentions were the more easily effectuated. Some also, having secretly embraced the doctrine of the reformation, were glad to be freed from their vows; and on the whole, the design was conducted with such success, that, in less than two years, the King had got possession of all the monastic revenues.

IN several places, particularly in the county of Oxford, great interest was made to preserve some convents of women, who, as they lived in the most irreproachable manner, justly merited, it was thought, that their houses should be saved from the general destruction[*]. There appeared also great difference between the case of nuns and friars; and the one institution might be very laudable, while the other was exposed to much blame. The males of all ranks, if endowed with industry, might be of service to the public; and none of them could want employment, suited to his station and capacity. But a woman of family, who failed of a settlement in the married state, an accident to which such persons were more liable than women of lower station, had really no rank which she properly filled; and a convent was a retreat both honourable and agreeable, from the inutility and often want, which attended her situation. But the King was determined to abolish monasteries of every denomination; and probably thought, that these antient establishments would be the sooner forgot, that no remains of them, of any kind, were allowed to subsist in the kingdom.

THE better to reconcile the people to this great innovation, stories were published of the detestable lives of the friars in many of the convents; and great care was taken to defame those whom the court was determined to ruin. The relicts also, and superstitions, which had so long been the object of the people's veneration, were exposed to their ridicule; and the religious spirit, now less bent on exterior observances and sensible objects, was encouraged in this new direction. It is needless to be particular in such an enumeration: Protestant historians mention on this occasion with great triumph the sacred repositories of convents; the parings of St. Edmond's toes; some of the coals that roasted St. Laurence; the girdle of the Virgin shown in eleven several places; two or three heads of St. Ursula; the felt of St. Thomas of Lancaster, an infallible cure for the headach; part of St. Thomas of Canterbury's shirt, much reverenced by big bellied women; some relicts, an excellent preventive against rain; others, a remedy to weeds in corn. But such fooleries, as they are to be found in all ages and nations of the world, and even took place during the most refined periods of antiquity, form no peculiar nor violent reproach on the catholic religion.

THERE were also discovered in the monasteries some impostures of a more artificial nature. At Hales, in the county of Gloucester, had been shown, during several ages, the blood of Christ brought from Jerusalem; and it is easy to imagine the veneration, with which such a relict was regarded. A miraculous circumstance also attended this miraculous relict; the sacred blood was not visible to any one in mortal sin, even when set before him; and till he had performed good works sufficient for his absolution, it would not deign to discover itself to him. At the dissolution of the monastery, the whole contrivance was discovered. Two of the monks, who were let into the secret, had taken the blood of a duck, which they renewed every week: They put it into a phial, one side of which consisted of thin and transparent chrystal, the other of thick and obscure. When any rich pilgrim arrived, they were sure to show him the dark side of the phial, till masses and offerings had expiated his offences; and then finding his money, or patience, or faith, near exhausted, they made him happy by turning the phial[*].

A MIRACULOUS crucifix had been kept at Boxley in Kent, and bore the appellation of the Rood of Grace. The lips, and eyes, and head of the image moved on the approach of its votaries. Hilsey, bishop of Rochester, broke the crucifix at St. Paul's cross, and shewed the whole people the springs and wheels by which it had been secretly moved. A great wooden idol of Wales, called Darvel Gatherin, was also brought to London, and cut in pieces: And by a cruel refinement of vengeance, it was employed as fuel to burn fryar Forest[†], who was punished for denying the supremacy, and for some pretended heresies. A finger of St. Andrew's, covered with a thin plate of silver, had been pawned by a convent for a debt of forty pounds; but as the King's commissioners refused to release the pawn, people made themselves very merry with the poor creditor, on account of his security.

BUT of all the instruments of antient superstition, no-one was so zealously destroyed as the shrine of Thomas a Becket, commonly called St. Thomas of Canterbury. This saint owed his canonization to the zealous defence, which he had made for the apostolic see; and on that account also, the monks had extremely encouraged the devotion of pilgrimages towards his tomb, and numberless were the miracles, which, they pretended, his relicts wrought on his devout votaries. They raised his body once a year; and the day, on which this ceremony was performed, which was called the day of his translation, was a general holyday: Every fiftieth year there was celebrated a jubilee to his honour, which lasted fifteen days: Plenary indulgences were then granted to all that visited his tomb; and a hundred thousand pilgrims have been registered at a time in Canterbury. The devotion towards him had quite effaced in that town the adoration of the Deity; nay, even that of the Virgin. At God's altar, for instance, there was offered in one year three pounds two shillings and six-pence; at the Virgin's, sixty three pounds five shillings and six-pence; at St. Thomas's, eight hundred and thirty two pounds twelve shillings and three-pence. But next year, the disproportion was still greater: There was not a penny offered at God's altar; the Virgin's gained only four pounds one shilling and eight-pence; but St. Thomas had got for his share nine hundred and fifty four pounds six shillings and three-pence[*]. Lewis the seventh of France had made a pilgrimage to this miraculous tomb, and had bestowed on the shrine a jewel, which was esteemed the richest in Christendom. It is obvious, how obnoxious to Henry a saint of this character must appear, and how much contrary to all his projects for degrading the authority of the court of Rome. He not only pillaged the rich shrine, dedicated to St. Thomas: He made the saint himself be cited to appear in court, and be tried and condemned as a traitor: He ordered his name to be struck out of the calender; the office for his festival to be expunged from all breviaries; and his bones to be burned, and the ashes to be dissipated.

ON the whole, the King, at different times, suppressed six hundred and forty five monasteries: Of which twenty eight had abbots, who enjoyed a seat in parliament. Ninety colleges were demolished in several counties; two thousand three hundred and seventy four chantries and free chappels: A hundred and ten hospitals. The whole revenue of these establishments amounted to one hundred and sixty one thousand one hundred pounds[†]. It is worthy of observation, that the whole lands and possessions of England had, a little before this period, been rated at three millions a year; so that the revenues of the monasteries did not really much exceed the twentieth part of the national income: A sum vastly inferior to what is commonly apprehended. The lands belonging to the convents, were commonly let at very low leases; and the farmers, who regarded themselves as a species of proprietors, took always care to renew their leases before they expired.

GREAT murmurs were every where excited against these violences; and men much questioned, whether priors and monks, who were only trustees or tenants for life, could by any deed, however voluntary, transfer to the King the entire property of their estates. In order to reconcile the people to such mighty innovations, they were told, that the King would never henceforth have occasion to levy taxes, but would be able, from the abbey lands alone, to bear, during war as well as peace, the whole charges of the government[*]. While such topics were employed to pacify the populace, the King took an effectual method of engaging the nobility and gentry to take part with his measures[†]: He either made a gift of the revenues of convents to his favourites and courtiers, or sold them at low prices, or exchanged them for other lands on very disadvantageous terms. He was so profuse in these liberalities, that he is said to have given a woman the whole revenues of a convent, as a reward for making a pudding, which happened to gratify his palate[‡]. He also settled sallaries on the abbots and priors, proportioned to their former revenues or to their merits; and gave each monk a yearly pension of eight marks: He erected six new bishoprics, Westminster, Oxford, Peterborow, Bristol, Chester, and Gloucester; of which the last five subsist at this day: And by all these means of expence and dissipation, the profit which the King reaped by the seizure of church lands, fell much short of vulgar opinion. As the ruin of convents had been foreseen some years ere it happened, the monks had taken care to dissipate beforehand most of their stock, furniture, and plate; so that the spoils of the great monasteries bore not, in these respects, any proportion to those of the lesser.

BESIDE the lands, possessed by the monasteries, the regular clergy enjoyed a considerable part of the benefices of England, and of the tythes, annexed to them; and these were also at this time transferred to the crown, and by that means came into the hands of laymen: An abuse which many zealous churchmen regard as the most criminal sacrilege. The monks were formerly much at their ease in England, and enjoyed revenues, which much exceeded the regular and stated expence of the house. We read of the abbey of Chertsey in Surrey, which possest 744 pounds a year, tho' it contained only fourteen monks: That of Furness, in the county of Lincoln, was valued at 960 pounds a year, and contained but thirty monks[§]. In order to dissipate their revenues, and support popularity, the monasteries lived in a very hospitable manner; and besides the poor, maintained from their offals, there were many decayed gentlemen, who passed their lives in travelling from convent to convent, and were entirely subsisted at the tables of the friars. By this hospitality, as much as by their own inactivity, did the convents prove nurseries of idleness; but the King, not to give offence by too sudden an innovation, bound the new proprietors of abbey lands, to support the ancient hospitality. But this engagement was fulfilled in very few places, and for a very short time.

IT is easy to imagine the indignation with which intelligence of all these violences was received at Rome; and how much the ecclesiastics of that court, who had so long kept the world in subjection by big sounding epithets, and by holy execrations, would now vent their rhetoric against the character and conduct of Henry. The pope was provoked at last to publish the bull, which he had passed against that monarch; and in a public manner delivered over his soul to the devil, and his dominions to the first invader. Libels were dispersed, where he was compared to the most furious persecutors in antiquity; and the preference was even given on their side: He had declared war with the dead, whom the pagans themselves respected; was at open enmity with heaven; and had engaged in professed hostility with the whole host of saints and angels. Above all, he was often reproached with his resemblance to the emperor Julian, whom, it was said, he imitated in his apostacy and learning, tho' he fell short of him in his morals. Henry could distinguish in many of these libels the stile and animosity of his kinsman, Pole; and he was thence anew incited to vent his rage, by every possible expedient, on that famous cardinal.

Cardinal Pole.

REGINALD de la Pole, or Reginald Pole, was descended of the royal family, being fourth son of the countess of Salisbury, daughter of the duke of Clarence. He discovered in very early youth evident symptoms of that fine genius, and generous disposition, by which, during his whole life, he was so much distinguished; and Henry having conceived great friendship for him, proposed to raise him to the highest ecclesiastical dignities; and, as a pledge of future favours, he conferred on him the deanry of Exeter[†], in order to help him to bear the expences of his education. Pole was carrying on his studies in Paris, at the time when the King sollicited the suffrages of that university in favour of his divorce; but tho' applied to by the English agent, he declined taking any part in that affair. Henry bore this neglect with more temper than was natural to him; and he appeared unwilling, on that account, to renounce friendship with a person, whose virtues and talents, he hoped, would prove useful, as well as ornamental, to his court and kingdom. He allowed him still to possess his deanry, and gave him permission to finish his studies at Padua: He even paid him some court, in order to bring him into his measures; and wrote to him, while in Italy, desiring him to give his opinion freely, with regard to the late measures taken in England, for abolishing the papal authority. Pole had now entered into an intimate friendship with whatever was eminent for dignity or merit in Italy; Sadolet, Bembo, and other revivers of true taste and learning; and he was moved by these connections, as well as by religious zeal, to forget, in some respect, the duty which he owed to Henry, his benefactor, and his sovereign. He replied, by writing a treatise of the unity of the church, where he inveighed against the King's supremacy, his divorce, his second marriage; and even exhorted the emperor to revenge on him the injury done to his family, and to the catholic cause. Henry, tho' provoked beyond measure at this outrage, dissembled his resentment; and sent a message to Pole, desiring him to return to England, in order to explain certain passages in his book, which he found somewhat obscure and difficult: But Pole was on his guard against this insidious invitation; and was determined to remain in Italy, where he was extremely beloved and esteemed by all the world.

THE pope and emperor thought themselves obliged to provide for a man of Pole's eminence and dignity, who, in support of their cause, had sacrificed all his pretensions to fortune in his own country. He was created a cardinal; and tho' he never took higher orders than those of a deacon, he was sent legate into Flanders about the year 1536[*]. Henry was sensible, that Pole's chief intention in choosing that employment, was to foment the mutinous disposition of the English catholics; and he therefore remonstrated in such a vigorous manner with the queen of Hungary, regent of the Low Countries, that she dismissed the legate, without allowing him to exercise his commission. The enmity which he bore Pole, was now open, as well as violent; and the cardinal, on his part, kept no farther measures in his intrigues against Henry. He is even suspected of aspiring to the crown, by means of a marriage with the lady Mary; and the King was every day alarmed by informations, which he received, of the correspondence maintained in England by that fugitive. Courtney, marquis of Exeter, had entered into a conspiracy with him; Sir Edward Nevil, brother to the lord Abergavenny, Sir Nicholas Carew, master of horse, and knight of the garter; Henry de la Pole, lord Montacute, and Sir Geoffrey de la Pole, brothers to the cardinal. These persons were indicted, and tried, and convicted, before lord Audley, who presided in the trial, as lord high steward. They were all executed, except Sir Geoffrey de la Pole, who was pardoned; and he owed this grace to his having first carried to the King secret intelligence of the conspiracy▪ We know little of the justice or iniquity of the sentence pronounced against these men▪ We only know, that the condemnation of a man, who was, at that time, prosecuted by the court, forms no presumption of his guilt; tho' as no historian of credit mentions, in the present case, any complaints occasioned by these trials, we may presume, that sufficient evidence was produced against the marquis of Exeter, and his associates[†].

CHAP. VI.

Disputation with Lambert—A Parliament—Law of the six articles—Proclamations made equal to laws—Settlement of the succession—King's projects of marriage—He marries Anne of Cleves—He dislikes her—A Parliament—Fall of Cromwel—His execution—King's divorce from Anne of Cleves—His marriage with Catherine Howard—State of affairs in Scotland—Discovery of the Queen's crimes—A Parliament—Ecclesiastical affairs.

THE rough hand of Henry seemed well adapted for rending asunder those bands, by which the ancient superstition had fastened itself on the kingdom; and tho', after renouncing the pope's supremacy, and suppressing monasteries, most of the political ends of a reformation were already attained, few people expected, that he would stop at those innovations. The spirit of opposition, it was thought, would carry him to the utmost extremity against the church of Rome; and lead him to declare war against the whole doctrine and worship, as well as discipline, of that mighty hierarchy. He had formerly appealed from the pope to a general council; but now, that a general council was summoned to meet at Mantua, he previously renounced all submission to it, as being summoned by the pope, and lying entirely under subjection to that spiritual usurper. He engaged his clergy to make a declaration to the like purpose; and he had prescribed to them many other alterations on ancient tenets and practices. Cranmer took advantage of every opportunity to carry him on in this course; and while Queen Jane lived, who favoured the reformers, he had, by means of her insinuation and address, been very successful in his endeavours. After her death, Gardiner, who was returned from his embassy to France, kept the King more in suspence; and by feigning an unlimited submission to his will, he was frequently able to guide him to his own purposes. Fox, bishop of Hereford, had supported Cranmer in his schemes for a more entire reformation; but his death had made way for the promotion of Bonner, who, tho' he had hitherto seemed a furious enemy to the see of Rome, was determined to sacrifice every thing to present interest, and had joined the confederacy of Gardiner and the partizans of the old religion. Gardiner himself, it was believed, had secretly entered into measures with the pope, and even with the emperor; and in concert with these powers, he endeavoured to preserve, as much as possible, the ancient faith and worship.

HENRY was so much governed by passion, that nothing could have retarded his animosity and opposition against Rome, but some other passion, which stopped his career, and raised him new subjects of animosity. Tho' he had gradually, since he came to years of maturity, been changing the tenets of that theological system, in which he had been educated, he was equally positive and dogmatical in the few articles which remained to him, as if the whole fabric had continued entire and unshaken: And tho' he stood alone in his opinion, the flattery of courtiers had so enflamed his tyrannical arrogance, that he thought himself entitled to regulate, by his own particular standard, the religious faith of the whole nation. The point, where he chiefly placed his orthodoxy, happened to be the real presence; that very doctrine, in which, among the numberless victories of superstition over common sense, her triumph is the most signal and egregious. All departure from this principle he held to be heretical and detestable; and nothing, he thought, would be more honourable for him, than, while he broke off all connections with the Roman pontiff, to maintain, in this essential article, the purity of the catholic faith.

Disputation with Lambert.

THERE was one Lambert[*], a school-master in London, who had been questioned for unsound opinions by archbishop Warham; but, upon the death of that prelate, and the changing of councils at court, he had been released. Not terrified with the danger which he had incurred, he still continued to promulgate his tenets; and having heard Dr. Taylor, afterwards bishop of Lincoln, defend in a sermon the corporal presence, he could not forbear expressing to Taylor his dissent from that doctrine; and he drew up his objections under ten several head. Taylor carried the paper to Dr. Barnes, who happened to be a Lutheran, and who maintained, that, tho' the substance of bread and wine remained in the sacrament, yet the real body and blood of Christ were there also, and were, in a certain mysterious manner, incorporated with the material elements. By the present laws and practice, Barnes was no less exposed to the stake than Lambert; yet such was the persecuting rage which prevailed, that he was determined to bring this man to condign punishment; because, in their common departure from the ancient faith, he had dared to go one step farther than himself. He engaged Taylor to delate Lambert to Cranmer and Latimer, who, whatever their private opinion might be on these points, were obliged to conform themselves to the standard of orthodoxy, established by Henry. When Lambert was cited before these prelates, they endeavoured to bend him to a recantation; and they were surprized, when, instead of compliance, he ventured to appeal to the King.

THE King, not displeased with an opportunity, where he could at once exert his supremacy, and display his learning, accepted the appeal; and was determined to mix, in a very unfair manner, the disputant with the judge. Public notice was given, that he intended to enter the lists with this school-master: Scaffolds were erected in Westminster-hall, for the accommodation of the audience: Henry appeared on his throne, accompanied with all the ensigns of majesty: The prelates were placed on his right hand: The temporal peers on his left. The judges and most eminent lawyers had a place assigned them behind the bishops: The courtiers of greatest distinction behind the peers: And in the midst of this splendid assembly was produced the unhappy Lambert, and he was required to defend his opinions against his royal antagonist[†].

THE bishop of Chichester opened the conference, by saying, that Lambert, being charged with heretical pravity, had appealed from his bishop to the King; as if he expected more favour from this application, and as if the King could ever be induced to protect a heretic: That tho' his majesty had thrown off the usurpations of the see of Rome; had disincorporated some idle monks, who lived like drones in a beehive; had remedied the idolatrous worship of images; had published the bible in English, for the instruction of all his subjects; and had made some lesser alterations, which every one must approve of; yet was he determined to maintain the purity of the catholic faith, and to punish with the utmost severity all departure from it: And that he had taken the present opportunity, before so learned and grave an auditory, of convincing Lambert of his errors; but if he still persevered obstinately in them, he must expect the most condign punishment[‡].

AFTER this preamble, which was not very encouraging, the King asked Lambert, with a stern countenance, what his opinion was of Christ's corporal presence in the sacrament of the altar; and when Lambert began his discourse with some compliment to his majesty, he rejected the praise with disdain and indignation. He afterwards pressed Lambert with some arguments, drawn from scripture and the schoolmen: The audience applauded the force of his reasoning, and the extent of his erudition: Cranmer seconded his proofs by some new topics: Gardiner entered the lists as a support to Cranmer: Tonstal took up the argument after Gardiner: Stokesley brought fresh aid to Tonstal: Six bishops more appeared successively in the field after Stockesley. And the disputation, if it deserves the name, was prolonged for five hours; till Lambert, fatigued, confounded, brow-beaten, and abashed, was at last reduced to silence. The King then, returning to the charge, asked him whether he was convinced; and he proposed, as a concluding argument, this interesting question, whether he was resolved to live or die? Lambert, who possessed that courage which consists in obstinacy, replied, that he cast himself wholly on his majesty's clemency: The King told him, that he would be no protector of heretics; and therefore, if that was his final answer, he must expect to be committed to the flames. Cromwel, as vicegerent, read the sentence against him[*].

LAMBERT, whose vanity had probably incited him the more to persevere on account of the greatness of this public appearance, was not daunted by the terrors of that punishment, to which he was condemned. His executioners took care to make the sufferings of a man who had personally opposed the King, as cruel as possible: He was burned at a slow fire; his legs and thighs were consumed to the stumps; and when there appeared no end of his tortures, some of the guards, more merciful than the rest, lifted him on their halberts, and threw him into the flames, where he was consumed. While they were employed in this friendly office, he cried aloud several times, None but Christ, none but Christ, and these words were in his mouth when he expired[†].

SOME few days before this execution, four Dutch anabaptists, three men and a woman, had faggots tied to their backs at Paul's cross▪ and were burned in that manner. And a man and a woman of the same sect and country, were burned in Smithfield[‡]

IT was the unhappy situation of the English, during that age, that when they laboured under any grievance, they had not the satisfaction of expecting redress from Parliament: On the contrary, they had reason to dread each meeting of that assembly, and were then sure of having tyranny converted into law, and aggravated, perhaps, with some circumstance, which the arbitrary prince and his ministers had not hitherto devised, or did not think proper, of themselves, to carry into execution.
A Parliament.

28th April.

This abject servility never more eminently appeared than in a new Parliament, which the King now assembled, and which, if he had so pleased, might have been the last that ever sat in England. But he found them too useful instruments of dominion ever to entertain thoughts of giving them a total exclusion.

THE chancellor opened the Parliament by informing the house of Lords, that it was his majesty's earnest desire, to extirpate from his kingdom all diversity of opinions with regard to religion; and as this enterprize was difficult and important, he desired them to chuse a committee among themselves, who might frame certain articles, and communicate them afterwards to the Parliament. The lords named the vicar-general, Cromwel, now created a peer, the archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops of Durham, Carlisle, Worcester, Bath and Wells, Bangor, and Ely. The house might have seen what a hopeful task they were undertaking: This small committee itself was agitated with such diversity of opinions, that it could come to no conclusion. The duke of Norfolk then moved in the house, that, since there were no hopes of having a report from the committee, the articles of faith, proposed to be established, should be reduced to six; and new committees be appointed to frame an act with regard to them. As this peer was understood to speak the King's mind, his motion was immediately assented to; and, after a short prorogation, the bill of the six articles, or the bloody bill, as the protestants justly termed it, was introduced, and having passed the two houses, had the King's assent affixed to it.

Law of the six articles.

IN this law, the real presence was established, the communion in one kind, the perpetual obligation of vows of chastity, the utility of private masses, the celibacy of the clergy, the necessity of auricular confession. The denial of the first article, with regard to the real presence, subjected the person to death by fire, and to the same forfeiture as in cases of •reason; and admitted not the privilege of abjuring: An unheard of severity, and unknown to the inquisition itself. The denial of any of the other five articles, even tho' recanted, was punishable by the forfeiture of goods and chattels, and imprisonment during the King's pleasure: An obstinate adherence to error, or a relapse, was adjudged to be felony, and punishable with death. The marriage of priests was subjected to the same punishment: Their commerce with women, for the first offence, was forfeiture and imprisonment; for the second, death. Abstaining from confession, and from receiving the eucharist at the accustomed times, subjected the person to fine and imprisonment, during the King's pleasure; and if the criminal persevered after conviction, he was punishable by death and forseiture, as in cases of felony[*]. Commissioners were to be appointed by the King, for enquiring into these heresies and irregular practices, and the criminals were to be tried by a jury.

THE King, in framing this law, laid his oppressive hand on both parties; and even the catholics had reason to complain, that the friars and nuns, tho' dismissed their convent, should be capriciously restrained to the practice of celibacy[†]: But as the protestants were chiefly exposed to the severity of the act, the misery of adversaries, according to the usual maxims of party, was regarded by the adherents to the ancient religion, as their own prosperity and triumph. Cranmer had the courage to oppose this bill in the house; and tho' the King desired him to absent himself, he could not be prevailed on to give this proof of compliance[‡]. Henry was accustomed to Cranmer's freedom and sincerity; and being convinced of the general rectitude of his intentions, gave him an unusual indulgence in that particular, and never allowed even a whisper against him. That prelate, however, was now obliged, in obedience to the statute, to dismiss his wife, the niece of Osiander, a famous divine of Nuremburg‖; and Henry, satisfied with this proof of submission, showed him his former countenance and favour. Latimer and Shaxton threw up their bishoprics, on account of this law, and were committed to prison.

Proclamations made equal to laws.

THE Parliament having thus resigned all their ecclesiastical liberties, proceeded to an entire surrender of their civil; and without scruple or deliberation they made by one act a total subversion of the English constitution. They gave to the King's proclamations the same force as to a statute enacted by Parliament; and to render the matter worse, if possible, they framed this law as if it were only declarative, and were intended to explain the natural extent of the regal authority. The preamble contains, that the King had formerly set forth several proclamations, which froward persons had wilfully contemned, not considering what a King by his royal power may do; that this licence might encourage offenders not only to disobey the laws of Almighty God, but also to dishonour the King's most royal majesty, who may full ill bear it; that sudden emergencies often occur, which require speedy remedies, and cannot await the slow assembling and deliberations of Parliament; and that, tho' the King was empowered, by his authority, derived from God, to consult the public good on these occasions, yet the opposition of refractory subjects might push him to extremity and violence: For these reasons, the Parliament, that they might remove all occasion of doubt, ascertained by a statute this prerogative of the crown, and enabled his majesty, with the advice of his council, to set forth proclamations, enjoining obedience under whatever pains and penalties he shall think proper: And these proclamations were to have the force of perpetual laws[*].

WHAT shows either a stupid or wilful blindness of the Parliament; they pretended, even after this statute, to maintain some limitations in the government; and they enacted, that no proclamation should deprive any person of his lawful possessions, liberties, inheritances, privileges, franchises; nor yet infringe any common law or laudable custom of the realm. They considered not, that no pains could be inflicted on the disobedience of proclamations, without invading some liberty or property of the subject; and that the power of enacting new laws, joined to the dispensing power, then exercised by the crown, amounted to a full legislative authority. It is true, the Kings of England had been always accustomed, from their own authority, to issue proclamations, and to exact obedience to them; and this prerogative was, no doubt, a strong symptom of absolute government: But still there was a difference between a power, which was exercised on a particular emergence, and which must be justified by the present expediency or necessity; and an authority conferred by a positive statute, which could no longer admit of controul or limitation.

Settlement of the succession.

COULD any act be more opposite to the spirit of liberty than this law, it would have been another of the same parliament. They passed attainders, not only against the Marquess of Exeter, the Lords Montacute, Darcy, Hussey, and others, who had been legally tried and condemned; but also against some persons, of the highest quality, who had never been accused, or examined, or convicted. The violent hatred, which Henry bore to cardinal Pole, had extended itself to all his friends and relations; and his mother in particular, the countess of Salisbury, had, on that account, become extremely obnoxious to him. She was also accused of having employed her authority with her tenants, to hinder them from perusing the new translation of the Bible; of having procured bulls from Rome, which, 'tis said, were found at Coudray, her country seat; of having kept a correspondence with her son, the cardinal: But Henry found, either that these offences could not be proved, or that they would not by law be subject to such severe punishment as he desired to inflict upon her. He resolved, therefore, to proceed against her in a more summary and more tyrannical manner; and for that purpose, he sent Cromwel, who was but too obsequious to his will, to demand of the judges, whether the Parliament could attaint a person, who was forthcoming, without giving him any trial, or citing him to appear before them[*]. The judges replied, that it was a dangerous question, and that the high court of Parliament ought to give examples to inferior courts of proceeding according to justice: No inferior court could act in that arbitrary manner, and they thought that the parliament never would. Being pressed to give a more explicite answer, they replied, that, if a person were attainted in that manner, the attainder could never after be brought in question, but must remain good in law. Henry learned by this decision, that such a method of proceeding, tho' directly contrary to all the principles of equity, was yet practicable; and this being all he was anxious to know, he resolved to employ it against the countess of Salisbury. Cromwel showed to the house of peers a banner, on which was embroidered the five wounds of Christ, the symbol, chosen by the northern rebels; and this banner, he affirmed, was found in the Countess's house[†]. No other proof seems to have been produced, in order to ascertain her guilt: The Parliament, without farther enquiry, passed a bill of attainder against her; and they involved in the same act, without any better proof, as far as appears, Gertrude Marchioness of Exeter, Sir Adrian Fortescue, and Sir Thomas Dingley. These two gentlemen were executed: The marchioness was pardoned, and survived the King; the countess received a reprieve.

THE only beneficial act, passed this session, was that by which the parliament confirmed the surrender of the monasteries; and yet even this act contains much falshood, much tyranny, and were it not that all private rights must submit to public interest, much injustice and iniquity. The scheme of engaging the abbots▪ to make a surrender of their monasteries had been conducted, as may easily be imagined, with many invidious circumstances: Arts of all kinds had been employed upon them; every motive, that could work on the frailty of human nature, had been set before them; and it was with great difficulty that these dignified conventuals were brought to a concession, which most of them regarded as destructive of their interests, as well as sacr•legious and criminal in itself[*]. Three abbots had shown more constancy than the rest, the abbot of Colchester, of Reading, and of Glassenbury; and in order to punish them for their opposition, and make them an example to others, means had been found to convict them of treason; they had perished by the hands of the executioner, and the revenues of the convents had been forfeited[†]. Besides, tho' none of these violences had had place, the King knew, that a surrender made by men, who were only tenants for life, would not bear examination; and he was therefore resolved to make all sure by his usual expedient, an act of parliament. In the preamble to this act, the parliament asserts, that all the surrenders, made by the abbots, had been, "without constraint, of their own accord, and according to the due course of common law." And in consequence, the parliament confirms the surrenders, and ascertains the property of the abbey lands to the King and his successors for ever[‡]▪ It is remarkable, that all the mitred abbots still sat in the house of peers; and that none of them made any protestation against this statute.

IN this session, the rank of all the great officers of state was fixed: Cromwel, as vicegerent, had the precedency assigned him above all of them. It was thought singular, that a black-smith's son, for he was no other, should have precedence next the royal family; and that a man possessed of no manner of literature, should be placed at the head of the church.

AS soon as the act of the six articles had passed, the catholics were extremely vigilant to inform against offenders; and no less than five hundred persons were in a little time thrown into prison. But Cromwel, who had not had interest enough to prevent that act, was able, for the present, to elude its execution. Seconded by the Duke of Suffolk, and lord chancellor Audley, as well as Cranmer, he remonstrated against the cruelty of punishing so many delinquents; and he obtained permission to set them at liberty. The uncertainty of the King's humour gave each party an opportunity of triumphing in its turn. No sooner had Henry passed this law, which seemed to give so deep a wound to the reformers, than he granted a general permission, for every one to have the new translation of the Bible in his family: A concession regarded by that party, as a most important victory.

Henry's projects of marriage.

BUT as Henry was observed to be much governed by his wives, while he retained his fondness for them, the final prevalence of either party, seemed to depend much on the choice of the future Queen. Immediately after the death of Jane Seymour, the most beloved of all his wives, he began to think of a new marriage. He first cast his eye on the dutchess dowager of Milan, niece to the Emperor; and he made proposals for obtaining that alliance. But meeting with difficulties in this design, he was carried, by his friendship for Francis, rather to think of a French princess. He demanded the dutchess dowager of Longueville, daughter of the Duke of Guise, a prince of the house of Lorraine; but Francis told him, that that lady was already betrothed to the King of Scotland. The King, however, would not take a repulse: He had set his heart extremely on the match: The information, which he had received, of the dutchess's accomplishments and beauty, had prepossessed him in her favour; and having privately sent over Meautys to examine her person, and get certain intelligence of her conduct, the accounts, which that agent brought him, served farther to inflame his desires. He learned, that she was big made; and he thought her, on that account, the more proper match for him, who was now become somewhat corpulent. The pleasure too of mortifying his nephew, whom he did not love, was a farther incitement to his prosecution of this match; and he insisted, that Francis should give him the preference to the King of Scots. But Francis, tho' sensible that the alliance of England was of much greater importance to his interest, would not affront his friend and ally; and to prevent farther sollicitation, he immediately sent the Princess to Scotland. Not to shock, however, Henry's humour, Francis made him an offer of Mary of Bourbon, daughter of the Duke of Vendome; but as the King was informed, that James had formerly rejected this Princess, he would not hear any farther of such a proposal. The French monarch then offered him the choice of the two younger sisters of the new Queen of Scots; and he assured him, that they were no way inferior either in merit or size to their elder sister, and that one of them was even superior in beauty. The King was as scrupulous with regard to the person of his wives, as if his heart had been really susceptible of a delicate passion; and he was unwilling to trust any relations, or even pictures, with regard to this important particular. He proposed to Francis, that they should have a conference at Calais on pretence of business; and that that monarch should bring along with h m the two Princesses of Guise, together with the finest ladies of quality in France, that he might make a choice among them. But the gallante spirit of Francis was shocked with this proposal; and he was impressed with too much regard for the fair sex, to carry ladies of the first quality, like geldings, to a market, there to be chosen or rejected by the humour of the merchant[*]. Henry would hearken to none of these niceties, but still insisted on his proposal; which, however, notwithstanding Francis's earnest desire of continuing a good correspondence with him, was at last finally rejected.

THE King began then to turn his thoughts towards a German alliance; and as the princes of the Smalcaldic league were extremely disgusted against the Emperor on account of the persecution of their religion, he hoped, by matching himself into one of their families, to renew an amity, which he regarded as so useful to him. Cromwel joyfully seconded this intention; and propo•ed to him Anne of Cleves, whose father, the duke of that name, had great interest among the Lutheran princes, and whose sister, Sibylla, was married to the elector of Saxony, the head of the protestant alliance.
He marries Anne of Cleves.

A flattering picture, drawn for the Princess by Hans Holben, determined Henry to apply to her father; and after some negotiations, the marriage, notwithstanding the opposition of the elector of Saxony, was at last concluded; and the Princess was sent over into England. The King, impatient to be satisfied with regard to the person of his bride, came privately to Rochester, and got a sight of her. He found her big, indeed, and tall, as he could wish; but utterly devoid both of beauty and grace; very unlike the pictures and representations, which he had received: He swore she was a great Flanders-mare; and declared, that he never could possibly bear her any affection.
Dislikes her.

The matter was worse, when he found, that she could speak no language but Dutch, of which he was entirely ignorant; and that the charms of her conversation were not likely to compensate for the homeliness of her person. He returned to Greenwich very melancholy; and much lamented his hard fate to Cromwel, as well as to Lord Russel, Sir Anthony Brown, and Sir Anthony Denny. This last gentleman, in order to give him comfort, told him, that his misfortune was common to Kings, who could not, like private persons, choose for themselves; but must receive their wives from the judgment and fancy of others.

IT was the subject of debate among the King's counsellors, whether the marriage could not yet be broke; and the Princess be sent back to her own country. Henry's situation seemed at that time very critical. After the ten years truce, concluded between the Emperor and the king of France, a good understanding seemed to have taken place between these rival monarchs; and such marks of union appeared, as gave great jealousy to the court of England. The Emperor, who knew the generous nature of Francis, even put a confidence in him, which is rare, to that degree, among great princes. An insurrection had been raised in the Low Countries by the inhabitants of Ghent, and seemed to threaten the most dangerous consequences. Charles, who resided at that time in Spain, resolved to go in person to Flanders, in order to appease these disorders; but he found great difficulties in contriving the manner of his passage thither. The road by Italy and Germany was tedious: The voyage thro' the Channel dangerous, by reason of the English naval power: He asked Francis's permission to pass thro' his dominions; and he entrusted himself into the hands of a rival, whom he had so mortally offended. The French monarch received him at Paris, with great magnificence and courtesy; and tho' prompted both by revenge and interest, as well as by the advice of his mistress and favourites, to make advantage of the present opportunity, he conducted the Emperor safely out of his dominions; and would not so much as speak to him of business during his abode in France, lest his demands should bear the air of violence upon his royal guest.

HENRY, who was informed of all these particulars, believed that an entire and cordial union had taken place between these two great monarchs; and that their religious zeal might prompt them to fall with combined arms upon England[*]. An alliance with the German princes seemed now, more than ever, requisite for his interest and safety; and he knew, that, if he sent back the Princess of Cleves, such an affront would be highly resented by her friends and family.
6 January.

He was therefore resolved, notwithstanding his aversion to her, to complete the marriage; and he told Cromwel, that, since matters had gone so far, he must put his neck into the yoke. Cromwel, who knew how much his own interest was concerned in this affair, was very anxious to learn from the King, next morning after the marriage, whether he now liked his spouse any better. The King told him, that he hated her worse than ever; and that her person was more lothsome on a near approach: He was resolved never to meddle with her; and even suspected her not to be a true maid: A point, about which he had entertained an extreme delicacy. He continued however to be civil to Anne; he even seemed to repose his usual confidence in Cromwel; but tho' he exerted this command over his temper, a discontent lay lurking in his breast, and was ready to burst out on the first opportunity.

12 April.

A Parliament.

A session of Parliament was held; and none of the abbots were now allowed a place in the house of peers. The King, by the mouth of the chancellor, complained to the Parliament of the great diversity of religions, which still prevailed among his subjects: A grievance, he said, which ought the less to be endured; because the s•riptures were now published in English, and ought universally to be the standard of belief to all mankind. But he had appointed, he said, some bishops and divines to draw up a list of tenets, to which his people were to assent; and he was determined, that Christ, the doctrine of Christ, and the truth should have the victory. The King seems to have expected more effect in ascertaining truth, from this new book of his doctors, than had ensued from the publication of the scriptures. Cromwel, as vicar general, made also in the King's name a speech to the upper house; and the peers, in return, bestowed such flattery on him, that they said he was worthy, by his desert, to be vicar general of the universe. That minister seemed to be no less in his master's good graces: He received, soon after the sitting of the Parliament, the title of Earl of Essex, and was installed knight of the garter.

THERE remained only one religious order in England; the knights of St. John of Jerusalem, or the knights of Malta, as they are commonly called. This order, partly ecclesiastical, partly military, had, by their valour, done great service to Christendom; and had very much retarded, at Jerusalem, Rhodes, and Malta, the rapid progress of the barbarians. During the general surrender of the religious houses in England, they had exerted their spirit, and had obstinately refused to yield up their revenues to the King; and Henry, who would endure no society that professed obedience to the pope, was obliged to have recourse to the Parliament for the dissolution of this order. Their revenues were large; and formed an addition no way contemptible to the many acquisitions, which the King had already made. But he had very ill husbanded the great revenue obtained by the plunder of the church: His profuse generosity dissipated faster than this rapacity could supply; and the Parliament were surprized this session to find a new demand made upon them of four tenths and a subsidy of one shil ing in the pound during two years: So ill were the people's expectations answered, that the crown was never more to require any supply from the people. The commons, tho' lavish of their liberty, and of the blood of their fellow subjects, were extremely frugal of their money; and it was not without difficulty that that grant could be obtained by this absolute and dreaded monarch. The convocation gave the King four shillings in the pound to be levied in two years. The pretext for these grants was the great expence, which Henry had been put to for the defence of the nation, in building forts along the sea coast, and in equipping a navy. As he had at present no ally on the Continent, in whom he reposed much confidence, he relied only on his domestic strength, and was on that account obliged to be more expensive in his preparations against the dangers of an invasion.

THE King's favour to Cromwel, and his acquiescence in the marriage of Anne of Cleves, were b th of them deceitful appearances: His aversion to the Queen secretly encreased every day; and having at last broke all restraint, it prompted him at once to seek the dissolution of a marriage so odious to him, and to involve his minister in ruin, who had been the author of it.
Fall of Cromwell.

The fall of Cromwel was hastened by other causes. All the nobility hated a man, who, being of such base extraction, had not only mounted above them by his station of vicar general, but had engrossed many of the other considerable offices of the kingdom: Besides that commission, which gave him a high, and almost absolute authority over the clergy, and even over the laity, he was Lord privy seal, Lord chamberlain, and Master of the wards: He had also obtained the order of the garter, a dignity which had ever been conferred only on the most illustrious families, and which seemed to be profaned by its being communicated to so mean a person. The people were averse to him, as the supposed author of the violences on the monasteries; establishments, which were still revered and beloved by the commonalty. The catholics regarded him as the concealed enemy of their religion: The protestants, observing his exterior concurrence with all the persecutions exercised against them, were inclined to bear him as little favour; and reproached him with the timidity, if not treachery, of his conduct. And the King, who found, that great clamours had on all hands arifen against the administration, was not displeased to throw on Cromwel the load of public hatred, and he hoped, by so easy a sacrisice, to regain the affections of his subjects.

BUT there was another cause, which suddenly set all these motives in action, and brought about an unexpected revolution in the ministry. The King had fixed his affection on Catherine Howard, niece to the Duke of Norfolk; and being determined to gratify this new passion, he could find no other expedient but by procuring a divorce from his present consort, to raise Catherine to his bed and throne. The Duke, who had long been engaged in enmity with Cromwel, made the same use of her insinuations, to ruin that minister, that he had formerly done of Anne Boleyn's against Wolsey: And when all engines were prepared, he obtained a commission from the King, to arrest Cromwel at the council-board on the accusation of high treason, and to commit him to the Tower. Immediately after, a bill of attainder was framed against him; and the house of peers thought proper, without trial, examination, or evidence, to condemn to death a man, whom, a few days before, they had declared worthy to be vicar general of the universe. The house of commons passed the bill, tho' not without some opposition. Cromwel was accused of heresy and treason; but the instances of his treasonable practices are utterly improbable, or even absolutely ridiculous[*]. The only circumstance of his conduct, by which he seems to have merited this fate, was his being the instrument of the King's tyranny, in conducting like iniquitous bills, in the former session, against the countess of Salisbury and others.

CROMWEL endeavoured to soften the King by the most humble s•pplications; but all to no purpose: It was not the practice of that Prince to ruin his ministers and favourites by halves; and tho' the unhappy prisoner wrote once in so moving a strain as even to draw tears from his eyes, he hardened himself against all movements of pity, and refused his pardon. The conclusion of Cromwel's letter ran in these words.
"I a most woful prisoner, am ready to submit to death when it shall please God and your majesty; and yet the frail flesh incites me to call to your grace for mercy and pardon of mine offences. Written at the Tower with the heavy heart and trembling hand of your highness's most miserable prisoner and poor slave, Thomas Cromwel. And a little below, Most gracious Prince, I cry for mercy, mercy, mercy."[*]

28th July.

His execution.

When brought to execution, he avoided all earnest protestations of his innocence, and all complaints against the sentence pronounced upon him. He knew that Henry would resent on his son these symptoms of opposition to his will, and that his death alone would not terminate that monarch's vengeance. He was a man of prudence, industry, and ability; worthy of a better master and of a better fate. Tho' raised to the summit of power from a very low origin, he betrayed no insolence or contempt of his inferiors; and was careful to remember all the obligations, which, during his lower fortune, he had owed to any one. He had served as a private sentinel in the Italian wars, where he received some good office from a Lucquese merchant, who had entirely forgot his person, as well as the service, which he had rendered him. Cromwel, in his grandeur, happened, at London, to cast his eye on his benefactor, now reduced to poverty, by misfortunes. He immediately sent for him, put him in mind of their antient friendship, and by his grateful assistance, re-instated him in his former prosperous circumstances[†].

King's divorce from Anne of Cleves.

THE measures for divorcing the King from Anne of Cleves, were carried on at the same time with the bill of attainder against Cromwel. The house of peers, in conjunction with the commons, applied to him by petition, desiring that he would allow his marriage to be examined; and orders were immediately given to lay the matter before the convocation. Anne had been formerly contracted by her father to the Duke of Lorrain; but she, as well as the Duke, were at that time under age, and the contract had been afterwards annulled by the consent of both parties. The King, however, pleaded this contract as a ground of divorce; and he added two reasons more, which may seem a little extraordinary; that, when he espoused Anne, he had not inwardly given his consent, and that he had not consummated the marriage. The convocation were satisfied with these reasons, and solemnly annulled the marriage between the King and Queen: The Parliament ratified the decision of the clergy[‡]; and the sentence was soon after notified to that princess.

ANNE was blest with a happy insensibility of temper, even in the points which the most nearly affect her sex; and the King's aversion towards her, as well as his prosecution of the divorce, had never given her the least uneasiness. She willingly hearkened to terms of composition with him; and when he offered to adopt her as his sister, to give her place next the Queen, and his own daughter, and to make a settlement of three thousand pounds a year upon her; she accepted the conditions, and gave her consent to the divorce[*]. She even wrote to her brother, (for her father was dead) that she had been very well used in England, and desired him to live on good terms with the King. The only instance of pride which she betrayed was, that she refused to return into her own country after the affront which she had received; and she lived and died in England.

NOTWITHSTANDING Anne's moderation, this incident produced a great coldness between the King and the German princes; but as the situation of Europe was now much altered, Henry was the more indifferent to their resentment. The close intimacy which had taken place between Francis and Charles, had subsisted during a very short time: The dissimilarity of their characters soon renewed, with greater violence than ever, their former jealousy and hatred. While Charles remained at Paris, Francis had been imprudently engaged, by his open temper, and by that satisfaction which a noble mind naturally feels in performing generous actions, to make some very dangerous confidences to that interested monarch; and having now lost all suspicion of his rival, he hoped, that the emperor and he, supporting each other, might neglect every other alliance. He not only communicated to his guest the state of his negociations with Sultan Solyman and the Venetians: He also laid open the •ollicitations which he had received from the court of England, to enter into a confederacy against him[*]. Charles had no sooner reached his own dominions, than he shewed himself unworthy of the friendly reception which he had met with. He flatly refused to execute his promise, and put the duke of Orleans in possession of the Milanese: He informed Solyman, and the senate of Venice, of the treatment which they had received from their ally: And he took care that Henry should not be ignorant how willingly Francis had abandoned his ancient friend, to whom he owed such important obligations, and had sacrificed him to a new confederate: He even poisoned and misrepresented many things, which the unsuspecting heart of the French monarch had disclosed to him. Had Henry possessed true judgment and generosity, this incident alone had been sufficient to guide him in the choice of his allies. But his domineering pride carried him immediately to renounce the friendship of Francis, who had so unexpectedly given the emperor the preference: And as Charles invited him to a renewal of ancient amity, he willingly accepted the offer; and thinking himself secure in this alliance, he neglected the friendship both of France and of the German princes.

8th August.

THE new turn which Henry had taken with regard to foreign affairs, was extremely agreeable to his catholic subjects; and as it had perhaps contributed, among other reasons, to the ruin of Cromwel, it made them entertain hopes of a final prevalence over their antagonists.
His marriage with Catherine Howard.

The marriage of the King with Catherine Howard, which followed soon after his divorce from Anne of Cleves, was also regarded as a very favourable incident to their cause; and the subsequent events corresponded perfectly to their expectations. The King's councils being now directed by Norfolk and Gardiner, a surious persecution commenced against the protestants; and the law of the six articles was executed with rigour. Dr. Barnes, who had been the cause of Lambert's execution, felt, in his turn, the severity of the persecuting spirit; and, by a bill which passed in parliament, without trial, he was condemned to the flames, together with Jerome and Gerrard. He discussed theological questions even at the stake; and as the debate between him and the sheriff, turned upon the invocation of saints, he said, that he doubted whether the saints could pray for us; but if they could, he hoped in half an hour, to be praying for the sheriff and all the spectators. He next entreated the sheriff to carry to the King his dying requests, which he fondly imagined would have authority with that monarch, who had sent him to the stake▪ The purport of his requests was, that Henry, besides repressing superstitious ceremonies, should be extremely vigilant in preventing fornication and common swearing[†].

WHILE Henry was exerting this violence against the protestants, he spared not the catholics who denied his supremacy; and a foreigner, who was at that time in England, had reason to say, that those who were against the pope were burned, and those who were for him were hanged[‡]. The King even displayed, in an oftentatious manner, this tyrannical equity and impartiality, which reduced both parties to subjection, and infused terror into every breast. Barnes, Gerrard, and Jerome had been carried to the place of execution on three hurdles; and along with them there was placed on each hurdle a catholic, who was also executed for his religion. These catholics were Abel, Fetherstone, and Powel, who declared, that the most grievous part of their punishment was the being coupled to such heretical miscreants as suffered with them‖.

THO' the spirit of the English seemed to be totally sunk under the despotic power of Henry, there appeared some symptoms of discontent: An inconsiderable insurrection broke out in Yorkshire, headed by Sir John Nevil; but it was soon suppressed, and Nevil, with the other ringleaders, was executed. The rebels were supposed to have been instigated by the intrigues of cardinal Pole; and the King was instantly determined to make the countess of Salisbury suffer for her son's offences.
27 May.

He ordered her to be carried to the place of execution, and this venerable matron maintained still, in these distressful circumstances, the spirit of that long race of monarchs from whom she was descended[*]. She refused to lay her head on the block, or submit to a sentence where she had received no trial. She told the executioner, that, if he would have her head, he must win it the best way he could: And thus shaking her venerable grey locks, she ran about the scaffold; and the executioner followed her with his ax, aiming many fruitless blows at her neck, before he was able to give her the fatal stroke. Thus perished the last of the line of Plantagenet, which, with great glory, but still greater crimes and misfortunes, had governed England for the space of three hundred years. The lord Leonard Grey, a man who had formerly rendered great service to the crown, was also beheaded for treason, soon after the countess of Salisbury. We know little of the grounds of his prosecution.

THE insurrection in the North engaged Henry to make a progress thither, in order to quiet the minds of his people, to reconcile them to his government, and to abolish the ancient superstitions, to which those parts were much addicted. He had also another motive for this journey: He proposed to hold a conference at York with his nephew the King of Scotland, and, if possible, to cement a •lose and indissoluble union with that kingdom.

State of affairs in Scotland.

THE same spirit of religious innovation, which had seized the other parts of Europe, had made its way into Scotland, and had begun, long before this period, to exci•• the same jealousies, fears, and persecutions. About the year 1527, Patrick Hamilton, a young man of a noble family, having been created abbot of Ferne, was sent abroad for his education; but had fallen into company with some reformers, and he returned into his own country very ill disposed towards that church, of which his birth and his merit entitled him to attain the highest honours. The fervour of youth, and his zeal for novelty, made it impossible for him to conceal his sentiments; and Campbel, prior of the Dominicans, who, under colour of friendship, and a sympathy in opinion, had insinuated himself into his confidence, delated him to Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrews. Hamilton was invited to St. Andrews, in order to maintain, with some of the clergy, a dispute concerning the controverted points; and after much reasoning with regard to justification, freewill, original •in, and other topics of that nature, the conference ended with their condemning Hamilton to be burnt for his errors. The young man, who had been deaf to the insinuations of ambition, was less likely to be shaken with the fears of death, while he proposed to himself both the glory of bearing testimony to the truth, and the immediate reward attending his martyrdom. The people, who compassionated his youth, his virtue, and his noble birth, were much moved with the constancy of his end; and the event still more confirmed them in their favourable sentiments towards him. He cited Campbel, who still insulted him at the stake, to answer before the judgment-seat of Christ; and as that persecutor, either astonished with these events, or overcome with remorse, or, perhaps, seized with a distemper, soon after lost his senses, and fell into a fever, of which he died; the people regarded Hamilton as a prophet, as well as a martyr[†].

AMONG the disciples converted by Hamilton, was one friar Forrest, who became a zealous preacher; and who, tho' he did not openly discover his sentiments, was suspected to lean towards the new opinions. His diocesan, the bishop of Dunkel, enjoined him, when he met with a good epistle or good gospel, which favoured the liberties of holy church, to preach on it, and let the rest alone. Forrest answered, that he had read both old and new restament, and had not found an ill epistle, or ill gospel in any part of them. The extreme attachment to the scriptures was regarded in those days as a sure characteristic of here•y; and Forrest was soon after brought to his trial, and condemned to the flames. While the priests were deliberating on the place of his execution, a bystander advised them to burn him in 〈◊〉 cellar: For that the smoke of Mr. Patrick Hamilton had infected all those on whom it blew[‡]

THE clergy were at that time reduced to great difficulties, not only in Scotland, but all over Europe. As the reformers aimed at a total subversion of ancient establishments, which they represented as idolatrous, impious, detestable, the priests, who found both their honours and properties at stake, thought that they had a right to resist, by every extremity, these dangerous invaders, and that the same simple principles of equity, which justified a man in killing a pyrate or a robber, would acquit them for the execution of such heretics. A toleration, tho' it is never acceptable to ecclefiastics, might, they said, be admitted in other cases; but seemed an absurdity where fundamentals were shaken, and where the possessions, and even the subsistence of the established clergy were brought in danger. But tho' the church was thus carried by policy, as well as inclination, to kindle the fires of persecution, they found the success of this remedy very precarious, and observed, that the enthusiastic zeal of the reformers, inflamed by punishment, was apt to prove very contagious on the compassionate minds of the spectators. The new doctrine, amidst all the dangers to which it was exposed, spread itself secretly every where; and the minds of men were gradually disposed to a revolution in religion.

BUT the most dangerous symptom for the clergy in Scotland was, that the nobility, moved by the example of England, had cast a wistful eye on the church revenues, and hoped, if a reformation took place, to enrich themselves by the plunder of the ecclesiastics. James himself, who was very poor, and was somewhat inclined to magnificence, particularly in building, had been swayed by like motives; and began to threaten the clergy with the same fate which attended them in the neighbouring country. Henry also, never ceased exhorting his nephew to imitate his example; and being moved both by the pride of making proselytes, and the prospect of security, if Scotland should embrace a close union with him, he sollicited the King of Scots to meet him at York; and he obtained a promise to that purpose.

THE ecclesiastics were extremely alarmed with this resolution of James; and they employed every expedient, in order to prevent it. They represented the dangers of innovation; the pernicious consequences of aggrandizing the nobility, already too powerful; the hazard of putting himself into the hands of the English, his hereditary enemies; the dependance which must ensue upon losing the friendship of France, and all foreign potentates. To these considerations, they added the prospect of present interest, by which they found the King to be much governed: They offered him a present gratuity of fifty thousand pounds Scots: They promised him, that the church should always be ready to contribute to his supply: And they pointed out to him, the confiscations of heretics, as the means of filling his exchequer, and of adding a hundred thousand pounds a year to the crown revenues[*]. The insinuations of his new Queen, to whom youth, beauty, and address had given a powerful influence over him, seconded all these reasons; and James was at last engag•d, first to delay his journey, then to send excuses to the King of England, who had already come to York, in order to be present at the conference.

HENRY, vexed with the disappointment, and enraged at the affront, vowed vengeance against his nephew; and he began, by permitting pyracies at sea, and incursions at land, to put his threats in execution. But he received soon after, in his own family, an affront to which he was much more sensible, and which touched him in a point where he had always shewn an extreme delicacy. He had thought himself very happy in his new marriage: The youth, beauty, and agreeable disposition of Catherine, had entirely captivated his affections; and he made no secret of his devoted attachment to her. He had even put up a prayer in his chappel, returning thanks to heaven for the felicity which the conjugal state afforded him; and he desired the bishop of Lincoln to compose a form of thanksgiving for that purpose.
Discovery of the Queen's crimes.

But the Queen very little merited this tenderness which he bore her: She had abandoned herself to lewdness. One Lascelles brought intelligence of her dissolute life to Cranmer, and told him, that his sister, formerly a servant in the old dutchess of Norfolk's family, with whom Catherine was educated, had given him a particular a•count of all her disorders. Derham and Mannoc, both of them servants of the dutchess, had been admitted to her bed; and she had even taken little care to conceal her shame from the other servants of the family. The primate, struck with this intelligence, which it was equally dangerous to conceal or to discover, communicated the matter to the earl of Hertford and to the chancellor. They agreed, that the matter should by no means be buried in silence; and the archbishop himself seemed the most proper person to disclose it to the King. Cranmer, unwilling to speak on so delicate a subject, wrote a narrative of the whole, and conveyed it to Henry, who was infinitely astonished at the intelligence. So confident was he of the fidelity of his consort, that he gave at first no credit to the information; and he said to the lord privyseal, to lord Russel, high admiral, Sir Anthony Brown, and Wriothesley, that he regarded the whole as a forgery. Cranmer was now in a very perilous situation; and had not full proofs been found, certain and inevitable destruction hung over him. The King's impatience, however, and jealousy prompted him to search the matter to the bottom: The privy-seal was ordered to examine Lascelles, who persisted in the information he had given; and still appealed to his sister's testimony. That nobleman made next a pretence of hunting, and went to Sussex, where the woman at that time resided: He found her both constant in her former intelligence, and particular as to the facts; and the whole bore but too much the face of probability. Mannoc and Derham, who were arrested at the same time, and examined by the chancellor, made the Queen's guilt entirely certain by their confession; and discovered other particulars, which redounded still more to her dishonour. Three ma•ds of the family were admitted into her secrets; and some of them had even past the night in bed with her and her lovers. All the examinations were laid before the King, who was so deeply affected, that he remained a long time speechless, and at last burst into tears. The Queen being now questioned, denied her guilt; but when informed, that a full discovery was made, she confessed, that she had been criminal before her marriage; and only insisted, that she had never been false to the King's bed. But as there was evidence, that one Colepeper had passed the night with her alone since her marriage; and as it appeared, that she had taken Derham, her old paramour, into her service; she seemed to deserve very little credit in this asseveration; and the King besides, was not of a disposition to make any difference between these degrees of guilt.

16 January.

HENRY found, that he could not so fully or expeditiously satiate his vengeance on all these criminals as by assembling a Parliament, the usual instrument of his tyranny. The two houses, having received the Queen's confession, began by an address to the King; which consisted of several particulars. They entreated him not to be vexed with this untoward accident, to which all men were subject; but to consider the frailty of human nature, and the mutability of human affairs; and from these views to derive a subject of consolation. They desired leave to frame a bill of attainder against the Queen and her accomplices; and they begged him to give his assent to this bill, not in person, which would renew his vexation, and might endanger his health, but by commissioners appointed for that purpose. And as there was a law in force, making it treason to speak ill of the Queen, as well as King, they craved his royal pardon, if any of them should, on the present occasion, have transgressed any part of that statute.

HAVING obtained a gracious answer to these requests, the Parliament proceeded to an act of attainder for treason against the Queen, and the viscountess of Rocheford, who had conducted her secret amours; and in this act Colepeper, and Derham, were also comprized. At the same time, they passed a bill of attainder for misprision of treason against the old dutchess of Norfolk, Catherine's grandmother, her uncle, lord William Howard, and his lady, together with the countess of Bridgewater, and nine persons more; because they knew the Queen's vicious life before her marriage, and yet concealed it. This was an effect of Henry's usual extravagance, to expect that parents should so far forget the ties of natural affection, and the sentiments of shame and decency, as to reveal to him the most secret disorders of their family. He himself seems to have been sensible of the cruelty of this sentence: For he pardoned the dutchess of Norfolk, and most of the others, condemned for misprision of treason.

HOWEVER, to secure himself for the future, as well as his successors, from this fatal accident, he engaged the Parliament to frame a law, equally full of extravagance. It was enacted, that any one, who knew, or vehemently presumed any guilt in the Queen, and did not, within twenty days, disclose it to the King or council, should be guilty of treason; prohibiting every one, at the same time, from spreading the matter abroad, or even privately whispering it to others. It was also enacted, that if the King married any woman, who had been incontinent, taking her for a true maid, she should be guilty of treason, in case she did not previously reveal her guilt to him. The people made merry with this extraordinary clause, and said, that the King must henceforth look out for a widow; for no reputed maid would ever be perswaded to incur the penalty of the statute[*]. After all these laws were passed, the Queen was beheaded on Tower-hill, together with the lady Rocheford. They behaved in a manner suitable to their dissolute life; and as the lady Rocheford was known to be the chief instrument, who had brought Anne Boleyn to her end, she died unpitied; and men were farther confirmed, by the discovery of this woman's guilt, in the favourable sentiments which they had entertained of that unfortunate Queen.

THE King made no demand of any subsidies from this Parliament; but he found means of enriching his exchequer from another quarter: He took farther steps towards the dissolution of colleges, hospitals, and other foundations of that nature. The courtiers had been practising on the presidents and governors, to make a surrender of their revenues to the King; and they had been successful with eight of them. But there was an obstacle to their farther progress: It had been provided, by the local statutes of most of these foundations, that no president, nor any fellows, could make such a deed without the unanimous vote of all the fellows; and this consent was not easily obtained. All such statutes were now annulled by Parliament; and the revenues of these houses, so useful to the public, were now laid open to the rapacity of the King and his favourites[*]. The church had been so long their prey, that nobody was surprized at any new inroads made upon it. From the regular, Henry now proceeded to make devastations on the secular clergy. He extorted from many of the bishops a surrender of chapter lands; and by this devise he pillaged the sees of Canterbury, York, and London, and enriched his greedy parasites and flatterers with their spoils.

Ecclesiastical affairs.

THE clergy have been commonly so fortunate as to make a concern for their temporal interests go hand in hand with a jealousy for orthodoxy; and both these passions be regarded, by the people, ignorant and superstitious, as a zeal for religion: But the violent and headstrong character of Henry now disjoined these objects. His rapacity was gratified by plundering the church; his bigotry and arrogance by persecuting heretics. Tho' he engaged the Parliament to mitigate the penalties of the six articles, so far as regards the marriage of priests, which was now only subjected to a forfeiture of goods, chattles, and lands during life; he was still equally bent on maintaining a rigid purity in speculative principles. He had appointed a commission, consisting of the two archbishops and several bishops of both provinces, together with a considerable number of doctors of divinity; and by virtue of his ecclesiastical supremacy he had given them in charge to choose a religion for his people. Before the commissioners had made any progress in this arduous undertaking, the Parliament, in 1541, had passed a law, by which they ratified all the tenets, which these divines should establish with the King's consent: And they were not ashamed of expressly declaring that they took their religion upon trust, and had no other rule, in religious as well as temporal concerns, than the arbitrary will of their master. There is only one clause of the statute, which may seem to savour somewhat of the spirit of liberty: It was enacted, that the ecclesiastical commissioners should establish nothing repugnant to the laws and statutes of the realm. But in reality this proviso was inserted by the King, to serve his own purposes. By introducing a confusion and contradiction into the laws, he became more the master of every one's life and property. And as the antient independance of the church still gave him jealousy, he was well pleased, under cover of such a clause, to introduce appeals from the spiritual to the civil courts. It was for a like reason, he would never promulgate a body of canon law▪ and encouraged the judges on all occasions to interpose in ecclesiastical causes wherever they thought the law or royal prerogative concerned. A happy innovation; tho' at first invented for arbitrary purposes!

THE King, armed by the authority of Parliament, or rather by their acknowlegement of that spiritual supremacy, which he believed inherent in him, employed his commissioners to select a system of tenets for the assent and belief of the nation. A small volume was soon after published, called, the Institution of a Christian Man, which was received by the convocation, and voted to be the infallible standard of orthodoxy. All the delicate points of justification, faith, freewill, good works, and grace, are there defined, with a leaning towards the opinion of the reformers: The sacraments, which a few years before were only allowed to be three, are now encreased to the number of seven, conformable to the sentiments of the catholics. The King's caprice is discernible thro' the whole; and the book is in reality to be regarded as his composition. For Henry, while he made his opinion a rule for the nation, would tye his own hands by no canon or authority, not even by any which he himself had formerly established.

THE people had occasion soon after to see a farther instance of the King's inconstancy. He was not long satisfied with his Institution of a Christian Man: He ordered a new book to be composed, called, the Erudition of a Christian Man; and without asking the assent of the convocation, he published, by his own authority, and that of the Parliament, this new model of orthodoxy. It differs from the institution[*]; but the King was no less positive in his new creed than he had been in the old; and he required the belief of the nation to veer about at his signal. In both these books, he was particularly careful to inculcate the doctrine of passive obedience; and he was no less careful to retain the nation in the practice.

WHILE the King was spreading his own books among the people, he seems to have been extremely perplexed, as well as the clergy, what course to take with the scriptures. A review had been made by the ecclesiastical synod of the new translation of the Bible; and Gardiner had proposed, that, instead of employing English expressions throughout, several Latin words should still be preserved, because they contained, as he pretended, such peculiar energy and significance, that they had no correspondent terms in the vulgar tongue[†]. Among these were eclesia, paenitentia, pontifex, contritus, holocausta, sacramentum, elementa, ceremonia, musterium, presbyter, sacrificium, humilitas, satisfactio, peccatum, gratia, hostia, charitas, &c. But as this mixture would have appeared extremely barbarous, and was plainly calculated for no other purpose than to retain the people in their antient ignorance, the proposal was rejected. The knowledge of the people, however, at least their disputative turn, seemed to be an inconvenience still more dangerous; and the King and Parliament[‡], soon after the publication of the scriptures, retracted the concession, which they had formerly made; and prohibited all but gentlemen and merchants to peruse them‖. Even that liberty was not granted, without an apparent hesitation, and a dread of the consequences: These persons were allowed to read, so it be done quietly and with good order. And the preamble to the act sets forth, "that many seditious and ignorant persons had abused the liberty granted them for reading the Bible, and that great diversity of opinions, animosities, tumults, and schisms had been occasioned by perverting the sense of the scriptures." It seemed very difficult to reconcile the King's model for uniformity, with the permission of free enquiry.

THE mass book also passed under the King's cognizance; and little alteration was as yet made in it: Some doubtful or fictitious saints only were struck out; and the name of the pope was erazed. This latter precaution was likewise used with regard to every new book, that was printed, or even old book that was sold. The word, Pope, was carefully omitted or blotted out[§]; as if that precaution could abolish the term from the language, or as if such a persecution of it did not rather imprint it more strongly in the memory of the people.

THE King took care about this time to clear the churches of another abuse, which had crept into them. Plays, interludes, and farces were there often acted in derision of the former superstitions; and the reverence of the multitude for their antient principles and modes of worship, was thereby gradually effaced[*]. We do not hear, that the catholics attempted to retaliate by employing this powerful engine against their adversaries, or endeavoured by like arts to expose that fanatical spirit, by which, it appears, the reformers were often actuated. Perhaps the people were not disposed to relish a jest on that side: Perhaps the greater simplicity and the more spiritual abstract worship of the protestants, gave less hold to ridicule, which is commonly founded on sensible representations. It was, therefore, a very agreeable concession, which Henry made the catholic party, to suppress entirely these religious comedies.

THUS Henry laboured incessantly, by arguments, creeds, and penal statutes, to bring his subjects to an uniformity in their religious sentiments: But as he entered, himself, with the greatest earnestness, into all these scholastic reasonings, he encouraged the people, by his example, to apply themselves to the study of theology; and it was in vain afterwards to expect, however present fear might restrain their tongues or pens, that they would cordially agree in any set of tenets or opinions prescribed to them.

CHAP. VII.

War with Scotland.—Victory at Solway.—Death of James the Fifth.—Treaty with Scotland.—New rupture.—Rupture with France.—A Parliament.—Affairs of Scotland.—A Parliament.—Campaign in France.—A Parliament.—Peace with France and Scotland.—Persecutions.—Execution of the Earl of Surrey.—Attainder of the Duke of Norfolk.—Death of the King.—His character.—His laws.

War with Scotland.

HENRY, being determined to avenge himself of the King of Scots for flighting the advances, which he made for his friendship, would gladly have obtained a supply from the Parliament, to enable him to prosecute that enterprize; but as he did not think it prudent to discover his intentions, the Parliament, conformable to their frugal maxims, would understand no hints; and the King was disappointed in his expectations. He continued, however, to make preparations for war; and so soon as he thought himself in a condition to invade Scotland, he published a manifesto, by which he endeavoured to justify his hostilities. He complained of James's disappointing him in the promised interview; which was the real ground of the quarrel[*]: But in order to give a more specious colouring to the enterprize, he mentioned other injuries; that his nephew had given protection to some English rebels and fugitives, and had detained some territory, which, Henry pretended, belonged to England. He even revived the old claim of the dependance of the crown of Scotland, and he summoned James to do homage to him as his liege lord and superior. He employed the duke of Norfolk, whom he called the scourage of the Scots, to command in the war; and tho' James sent the bishop of Aberdeen, and Sir James Learmont of Darsay, to appease his uncle, he would hearken to no terms of accommodation. While Norfolk was assembling his army at Newcastle, Sir Robert Bowes, attended with Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir Ralph Evers, Sir Brian Latoun, and others, made an incursion into Scotland, and advanced towards Jedburgh, with an intention of pillaging and destroying that town. The earl of Angus, and George Douglas, his brother, who had been so many years banished their country, and had subsisted by Henry's bounty, joined the English army in this incursion; and the forces, commanded by Bowes, exceeded four thousand men. James had not been negligent in his preparations for defence, and had posted a considerable body, under the command of the earl of Huntley, for the protection of the borders. Lord Hume, at the head of his clients, was hastening to join Huntley, when he met with the English army; and a battle immediately ensued.
24th August.

While they were engaged, the forces under Huntley began to appear; and the English, afraid of being overpowered and surrounded, took to flight, and were pursued by the enemy. Evers, Latoun, and some other persons of distinction, were taken prisoners. A few only of small note fell in this skirmish[*].

THE duke of Norfolk, mean while, began to move from his camp at Newcastle; and being attended by the earls of Shrewsbury, Derby, Cumberland, Surrey, Hertford, Rutland, with many others of the nobility, he advanced to the borders. His army amounted to above twenty thousand men; and it required the utmost efforts of Scotland to resist such formidable preparations. James had assembled his whole military force at Fala and Sautrey, and was ready to advance so soon as he should be informed of Norfolk's invading his kingdom. The English passed the Tweed at Berwic, and advanced along the banks of the river as far as Kelso; but hearing that James had gathered together near thirty thousand men, they repassed the river at that village, and retreated into their own country[†]. The King of Scots, inflamed with a desire of military glory, and of revenge on his invaders, gave the signal for pursuing them, and carrying the war into England. He was surprized to find, that his nobility, who were generally disaffected on account of the preference, which he had given the clergy, opposed this resolution, and refused to attend him in his projected enterprize. Enraged at this defection, he reproached them with cowardice, and threatened vengeance; but still resolved, with the forces which adhered to him, to make an impression on the enemy's country. He sent ten thousand men to the western borders, who entered England at Solway firth; and he himself followed them at a small distance, ready to join them upon occasion. Disgusted, however, with the refractory disposition of his nobles, he sent a messenger to the army, depriving lord Maxwel, their general, of his commission, and conferring the command on Oliver Sinclair, a private gentleman, who was his favourite. The army were extremely displeased with this alteration, and were ready to disband;
24 November. Victory at Solway.

when a small body of English appeared, not exceeding 500 men, under the command of Dacres and Musgrave. A panic seized the Scotch, who immediately took to flight, and were pursued by the enemy. Few were killed in this rout; for it was no action; but a great many were taken prisoners, and some of the principal nobility. Among these were the earls of Cassilis and Glencairn; the lords Maxwel, Fleming, Sommerville, Oliphant, Grey, who were all sent to London, and given in custody to different noblemen.

THE King of Scots, hearing of this disaster, was confounded to the last degree; and being naturally of a melancholy disposition, as well as endowed with a high spirit, he lost all command of his temper on this dismal occasion. Rage against his nobility, who, he believed, had betrayed him; shame for a defeat by such unequal numbers; regret of the past, fear of the future; all these passions so wrought upon him, that he would admit of no consolation, but abandoned himself wholly to despair. His body was wasted by sympathy with his anxious mind; and even his life began to be thought in danger. He had no child living; and hearing that his Queen was safely delivered, he asked whether she had brought him a male or female? Being told, the latter; he turned about in his bed: "The crown came with a woman," said he, "and it will go with one: Many miseries await this poor kingdom: Henry will make it his own either by force of arms or by marriage."
14th of December.

Death of James the fifth.

A few days after, he expired, in the flower of his age; a prince of considerable virtues and talents, well fitted, by his vigilance and personal courage, for repressing those disorders, to which his kingdom, during that age, was so much exposed. He executed justice with the greatest impartiality and rigour; but as he supported the commonalty and the church against the rapine of the nobility, he escaped not the hatred of that order. The protestants also, whom he repressed, have endeavoured to throw many stains on his memory; but have not been able to fix any considerable imputation on him[*].

HENRY was no sooner informed of his victory and of the death of his nephew, than he projected, as James had foreseen, the scheme of uniting Scotland to his own dominions, by marrying his son, Edward, to the heiress of that kingdom[*]. He called together the Scotch nobles, who were his prisoners; and after reproaching them, in severe terms, for their breach of treaty, as he pretended, he began to soften his tone, and proposed to them this expedient, by which, he hoped, those disorders, so prejudicial to both states, would for the future be prevented. He offered to bestow on them their liberty without ransom; and only required of them engagements to favour the marriage of the Prince of Wales with their young mistress. They were easily prevailed on to give their assent to a proposal, which seemed so natural, and so advantageous to both kingdoms; and being conducted to Newcastle, they delivered to the duke of Norfolk, hostages for their return, in case the intended nuptials were not compleated: And they thence proceeded to Scotland, where they found affairs in some confusion.

THE pope, finding his authority in Scotland exposed to danger from the spreading of the new opinions, had bestowed on Beaton, the primate, the dignity of cardinal; and that prelate had been long regarded as prime minister to James, and as the head of that party, which defended the antient privileges and properties of the ecclesiastics. Upon the death of his master, this man, apprehensive of the consequences both to his party and himself, endeavoured to keep possession of the power; and for that purpose, he is accused of executing a deed which required a high degree of temerity. He forged, it is said, a will for the King, appointing himself, and three noblemen, regents of the kingdom during the minority of the infant Princess[†]: At least, for historians are not well agreed in the circumstances of the fact, he had read to James a paper of that import, to which that monarch, during the delirium which preceded his death, had given an imperfect assent and approbation[‡]. By virtue of this will, Beaton had put himself in possession of the government; and having joined his interests with those of the Queen dowager, he obtained the consent of the convention of states, and excluded the pretensions of the earl of Arran.

JAMES earl of Arran, of the name of Hamilton, was next heir to the crown by his grandmother, daughter to James the third; and on that account seemed best entitled to possess that high office, into which the cardinal had intruded himself. The prospect also of his succession after a Princess, who was in such tender infancy, procured him many partizans; and tho' his character contained little spirit, activity, or ambition, a propensity, which he had discovered for the new opinions, had attached to him all the 〈…〉 of these 〈◊〉 By means of all these adherents, joined to 〈…〉 of his family, he ha• been able to make opposition to the cardi••l's administration; and the 〈◊〉 of Beaton's forgery, with the accession of the noblemen, who had been prisoners in England, assisted too by some money, sent from London, was able to turn the ballance in his favour. The earl of Angus, and his brother, having taken the present opportunity of returning into their own country, opposed the cardinal with all the force of that powerful family; and the majority of the convention had now embraced opposite interests to those which formerly prevailed. Arran was declared governor; the cardinal was committed to custody under the care of lord Seton; and a negotiation was commenced with Sir Ralph Sadler, the English ambassador, for the marriage of the infant Queen with the Prince of Wales.
Treaty with Scotland.

The following conditions were quickly agreed on; that the Queen should remain in Scotland till she was ten years of age; that she should then be sent to England to be educated; that three Scotch nobles should immediately be delivered as hostages to Henry; and that the kingdom, notwithstanding its union with England, should still preserve its laws and privileges[*]. By means of these equitable conditions, the war between the nations, which had threatened Scotland with such dismal calamities, seemed to be fully composed, and to be changed into perpetual concord and unanimity.

BUT the cardinal-primate, having prevailed on Seton to restore him to his liberty, was able, by his intrigues, to confound all these measures, which appeared to be so well concerted. He assembled the most considerable ecclesiastics; and having represented to them the imminent danger, to which their revenues and privileges were exposed, he perswaded them to collect privately from the clergy a large sum of money, by which, if entrusted to his management, he promised to overturn the schemes of their enemies[†]. Besides the partizans, whom he acquired by pecuniary motives, he rouzed up the zeal of those, who were attached to the catholic worship; and he represented the union with England as the sure forerunner of ruin to the church and the antient religion. The national antipathy of the Scotch against the English nation, was also an infallible engine, by which the cardinal wrought upon the people; and tho' the terror of Henry's arms, and their inability to make resistance, had procured a temporary assent to the alliance and marriage proposed, the settled habits of the nation produced an extreme aversion to those measures. The English ambassador and his train received many insults from persons whom the cardinal had incited to commit those indignities, in hopes of bringing on a rupture. But Sadler very prudently dissembled the matter, and waited patiently till the day appointed for the delivery of the hostages. He then demanded of the regent the performance of that important article; but received for answer, that his authority was very precarious, that the nation had now taken a different impression, and that it was not in his power to compel any of the nobility to deliver themselves as hostages to the English. Sadler, foreseeing the consequence of this refusal, sent a summons to all those who had been prisoners in England, and required them to fulfil the promise which they had given of returning into custody. None of them showed so much sentiment of honour, as to perform their engagements, except Gilbert Kennedy, earl of Cassilis. Henry was so well pleased with the behaviour of this nobleman, that he not only received him graciously, but honoured him with presents, gave him his liberty, and sent him back to Scotland, with his two brothers, whom he had left as hostages[*].

New rupture.

THIS behaviour of the Scotch nobles, tho' it reflected dishonour on the nation, was not unacceptable to the cardinal, who foresaw, that all these persons would now be deeply interested to maintain their enmity and opposition to the English. And as a war was soon expected with that kingdom, he found it necessary immediately to apply to France, and to crave the assistance of that ancient ally, during the present distresses of the Scotch nation. Tho' Francis was fully sensible of his interest in supporting Scotland, a demand of aid could not have been made on him at a more unseasonable juncture. His pretensions on the Milanese, and his resentment against Charles, had engaged him in a war with that potentate; and having made very great, tho' fruit'ess efforts during the preceding campaign, he was the more disabled at present from defending his own dominions, much more from granting any succour to the Scotch. Mathew Stuart, earl of Lenox, a young nobleman of a great family, was at that time in the French court; and Francis, being informed, that he was engaged in ancient and hereditary enmity with the Hamiltons, who had murdered his father, sent him over to his native country, as a support to the cardinal and the Queen mother: And he promised, that a supply of money, and, if necessary, even military succours, should soon be dispatched after him. Arran, the governor, seeing all these preparations against him, assembled his friends, and made an attempt to get the person of the infant Queen into his custody; but being repulsed, he was obliged to come to an accommodation with his enemies, and to entrust that precious charge to four neutral persons, the heads of potent families, the Grahams, Areskines, Lindseys, and Levistons. The arrival of Lenox, in the midst of these transactions, served to render the victory of the French party over the English still more undisputable[‡].

Rupture with France.

THE opposition which Henry met with in Scotland from the French intrigues, excited his resentment, and farther confirmed the resolution which he had before taken, of breaking with France, and of uniting his arms with those of the emperor. He had other grounds of complaint against the French King; which, tho' they were not of great importance, yet being recent, were able to overballance those great injuries which he had formerly received from Charles. He pretended, that Francis had engaged to imitate his example in separating himself entirely from the see of Rome, and that he had broke his promise in that particular. He was dissatisfied, that James, his nephew, had been allowed to marry, first Magdalene of France, then a princess of the house of Guise; and he considered these alliances as pledges which Francis gave of his intentions to support the Scotch against the power of England[*]. He had been informed of some railleries, which the French King had thrown out against his conduct with regard to his wives. He was disgusted, that Francis, after so many obligations which he owed him, had sacrificed him to the emperor; and, in the confidence of friendship, had rashly revealed his secrets to that subtle and interested monarch. And he complained, that regular payments were never made of the sums due to him by France, and of the pension which had been promised. Impelled by all these motives, he alienated himself from his ancient friend and confederate, and formed a league with the emperor, who very earnestly courted his alliance. This league, besides stipulations for mutual defence, contained a plan for invading France; and the two monarchs agreed to enter Francis's dominions with an army, each of twentyfive thousand men; and to require that prince to pay Henry all the sums which he owed him, and to consign Boulogne, Montreuil, Terouenne, and Ardres, as a security for the regular payment of his pension for the future: In case these conditions were rejected, the confederate princes agreed, to challenge, for Henry, the crown of France, and the dutchies of Normandy, Aquitaine, and Guienne; for Charles, the dutchy of Burgundy, and some other territories[†]. That they might have a pretence for enforcing these claims, they sent a message to Francis, requiring him to renounce his alliance with Sultan Solyman, and to make reparation for all the prejudice which Christendom had suffered from that unnatural confederacy. Upon the French King's refusal, war was declared against him by the confederates. It may be proper to observe, that the partizans of France objected to Charles his alliance with the heretical King of England, as no less odious than that which Francis had contracted with Solyman: And they observed, that this league was a breach of that solemn promise which he had given to Clement the seventh, never to make peace or alliance with England.

22 January.

A Parliament.

WHILE the treaty with the emperor was negociating, the King summoned a new session of Parliament, in order to obtain supplies for his projected war with France. The Parliament granted him a subsidy to be paid in three years: It was levied in a peculiar manner; but exceeded not three shillings in the pound upon any individual[‡]. The convocation gave the King six shillings in the pound, to be levied in three years. Greater sums were always, even during the establishment of the catholic religion, exacted from the clergy than the laity: Which made the emperor Charles say, when Henry dissolved the monasteries, and sold their revenues, or bestowed them on his nobility and courtiers, that he had killed the hen which brought him the golden eggs[*].

THE Parliament also facilitated the execution of the former law, by which the King's proclamations were made equal to statutes: They appointed, that any nine counsellors should form a legal court for punishing all disobedience to proclamations. The total abolition of juries in criminal causes, as well as of all Parliaments, seemed, if the King had so pleased, the necessary consequence of this enormous law. He might issue proclamations, for the execution of any penal statutes, and afterwards try the criminals, not for breach of the law, but for disobedience to his proclamation. It is remarkable, that the lord Mountjoy entered a protest against this statute; and it is equally remarkable, that that protest is the only one which was entered against any public bill during this whole reign[†].

WE have taken notice, in the end of the former chapter, of some laws regarding religion, which the Parliament passed this session, in order to gratify the King's humour. It was farther enacted‖, that every spiritual person, who preached or taught contrary to the doctrine contained in the King's book, the Erudition of a christian man, or contrary to any doctrine which he shall henceforth promulgate, was to be admitted on the first conviction to renounce his errors; on the second, he was required to carry a faggot; which if he refused to do, or fell into a third offence, he was to be burnt. But the laity, for the third offence, were only to forfeit their goods and chattels, and to be liable to perpetual Imprisonment▪ Indictments must be laid within a year after the offence, and the prisoner was allowed •o bring witnesses for his p••gation. These penalties were lighter than those formerly imposed on a denial of transubstantiation▪ It was, however, subjoined in this statute, that the act of the six articles was still in force. But in order to make the King more entirely master of his people, it was enacted, that he might hereafter, at his pleasure, change this act, or any provision in it. By this clause, both parties were retained in subjection▪ so far as regarded religion, the King was invested, in the fullest manner, with the sole legislative authority in his kingdom; and all his subjects were, under the severest penalties, expressly bound to receive implicitly, whatever doctrine he should please to recommend to them.

12th July.

THE reformers began to entertain hopes, that this exorbitant power would be employed in their favour. The King married Catherine Par, widow to Nevil lord Latimer; a woman of virtue, and somewhat inclined to the new doctrine. By this marriage, Henry made good what had formerly been foretold in jest, that he would be obliged to espouse a widow. The King's league with the emperor, seemed to be a circumstance no less favourable to the catholic party; and thus matters remained still nearly ballanced between the factions.

THE advantages gained by this powerful confederacy between Henry and Charles, were very inconsiderable, during the present year. The campaign was opened with a victory, gained by the duke of Cleves, Francis's ally, over the forces of the emperor‖: Francis, in person, took the field early; and made himself master, without resistance, of the whole dutchy of Luxembourg: He afterwards took Landrecy, and added some fortifications to it. Charles, having at last assembled a powerful army, appeared in the Low Countries; and after taking almost every fortress in the dutchy of Cleves, he reduced the duke to submit to the terms which he was pleased to prescribe to him. Being then joined by a body of six thousand English, he sat down before Landrecy, and covered the siege with an army of above forty thousand men. Francis advanced at the head of an army not much inferior; as if he intended to give the emperor battle, or oblige him to abandon the siege: But while these two rival monarchs were facing each other, and all the world stood in expectation of some great event; the French found means to throw succours into Landrecy, and having thus effected their purpose, they skilfully made a retreat. Charles, finding the season far advanced, despaired of success in his enterprize, and found it necessary to raise the siege.

Affairs of Scotland.

THE vanity of Henry was flattered, by the figure which he made in the great transactions on the continent: But the interests of his kingdom were much more deeply concerned in the event of affairs in Scotland. Arran, the governor, was of so indolent and unambitious a character, that had he not been stimulated by his friends and dependants, he never had aspired to any share in the administration; and when he found himself overpowered by the party of the Queen dowager, the cardinal, and the earl of Lenox, he was glad to accept of any terms of accommodation, however dishonourable. He even gave them a sure pledge of his sincerity, by renouncing the principles of the reformers, and reconciling himself to the Romish communion in the Franciscan church at Stirling. By this weakness and levity he lost his credit with the whole nation, and rendered the protestants, who were hitherto the chief support of his power, his most mortal enemies. The cardinal acquired the entire ascendant in the kingdom: The Queen dowager put implicit confidence in him: The governor was obliged to yield to him in every pretension: Lenox alone was become an obstacle to his measures, and reduced him to some difficulty.

THE inveterate enmity which had taken place between the families of Lenox and Arran, made the interests of these two noblemen entirely incompatible; and as the cardinal and the French party, in order to engage Lenox the more in their cause, had flattered him with the hopes of succeeding to the crown after their infant sovereign, this rivalship had tended still farther to rouze the animosity of the Hamiltons. Lenox too had been encouraged to aspire to the marriage of the Queen dowager, which would have given him some pretensions to the regency; and as he was become assuming, on account of the services which he had rendered the party, the cardinal found, that, since he must choose between the friendship of Lenox and Arran, the latter nobleman, who was more easily governed, and who was invested with present authority, was in every respect preferable. In order to remove the former, after the easiest and least obnoxious manner, he wrote to Francis, with whom he had entire credit, by means of the duke of Guise, father to the Queen dowager; and after praising Lenox for his past services, he represented the present difficulties and obstructions, which he occasioned in the administration, and desired that he might be recalled to France, where he enjoyed great credit and large possessions. But the impatience of Lenox to attain his purposes, allowed not this political artifice leisure to operate. Finding that he was not likely to succeed in his pretensions to the Queen dowager, and that Arran prevailed in every contest, he retired to Dunbarton, the governor of which was entirely in his interests; he entered into a secret negociation with the English court; and he summoned his clients and par•izans to attend him. All those who were inclined to the protestant religion, or were on any account discontented with the cardinal's administration, now regarded Lenox as the head of their party, and they readily made him a tender of their services. In a little time, he had collected an army of ten thousand men, and he threatned his enemies with immediate destruction. The cardinal had no equal force to oppose to him; but as he was a prudent man, he foresaw that Lenox could not long subsist so great an army, and he endeavoured to protract time, by opening a negociation with him. He seduced his followers, by various artifices; he engaged the Douglasses in his interests; he represented to the whole nation the danger of civil wars and commotions. And Lenox, finding himself engaged in an unequal contest, was at last obliged to lay down his arms, and to accept of terms of accommodation with the governor and the cardinal. Present peace was restored; but no confidence took place between the parties. Lenox, fortifying his castles, and putting himself in a posture of defence, waited the succours of the English, from whose assistance alone he expected to obtain the superiority over his enemies.

WHILE the winter season restrained Henry from military operations, he summoned a new Parliament; where a law was passed, such as he was pleased to dictate, with regard to the succession of the crown. After declaring, that the prince of Wales, or any of the King's male issue, were first and immediate heirs to the kingdom, the Parliament restored the two princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, to their right of succession. This seemed a reasonable piece of justice, and corrected what the King's former violence had thrown into confusion; but it was impossible for Henry to do any thing, however laudable, without betraying, in some circumstances, his usual caprice and extravagance: Tho' he opened the way for these two princesses to mount the throne, he would not allow the act to be reversed which had declared them both illegitimate; he made the Parliament con•er on him a power of still excluding them, if they refused to submit to any conditions which he should be pleased to impose; and he required them to enact, that, in default of his own issue, he might dispose of the crown, as he pleased, by will or letters patent. He did not probably foresee, that in proportion as he degraded the Parliament, by rendering them the passive instrument of his variable and violent inclinations, he taught the people to regard all their acts as invalid, and thereby defeated even the purposes which he was so bent to attain.

AN act was passed, that the King's usual stile should be "King of England, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, and on earth the supreme head of the church of England and Ireland." It seemed a palpable inconsistency, to retain the title of defender of the faith, which the see of Rome had conferred on him for maintaining its cause against Luther; and yet subjoin his ecclesiastical supremacy, in opposition to the claims of that see.

AN act was also passed, for the remission of a loan of money, which the King had lately raised. It will easily be believed, that, after the former act of this kind, the loan was not entirely voluntary[*]. But there was a peculiar circumstance attending the present statute, which none but Henry would have thought of: That those who had already got payment, either in whole or in part, should refund the sums to the exchequer.

THE oaths which Henry established for the security of his ecclesiastical model, were not more reasonable than his other measures. All his subjects of any distinction had already been obliged to renounce the pope's supremacy; but as the clauses which they swore to, had not been esteemed entirely satisfactory, another oath was imposed, and it was added, that all those who had taken the former oaths, should be understood to have taken the new one[†]. A strange supposition! to represent men as bound by an oath which they had never consented to take.

THE most commendable act to which the Parliament gave their sanction, was that by which they mitigated the law of the six articles, and ordained, that no person should be put to his trial upon any accusation concerning any of the offences comprized in that sanguinary statute, except on the oath of twelve persons before commissioners authorized for that purpose; and that no person should be arrested or committed to ward for any such offence before he was indicted. Any preacher, accused of speaking in his sermon contrary to these articles, must be indicted within forty days.

THE King always experienced the limits of his exorbitant authority whenever he demanded subsidies, however moderate, from the Parliament; and, therefore, not to hazard a refusal, he made no mention this session of a supply: But as his wars both with France and Scotland, as well as his usual prodigality, had involved him in great expence, he had recourse to other methods of filling his treasury: Notwithstanding the former abolition of his debts, he yet required new loans from his subjects: And he enhanced gold from forty-five shillings to forty-eight an ounce; and silver from three shillings and nine pence to four shillings. His pretence for this innovation, was to prevent the money from being exported; as if that expedient could any way serve the purpose. He even coined some base money, and ordered it to be current by his proclamation. He named commissioners for levying a b•nevolence, and he extorted about seventy thousand pounds by that expedient. Read, a•derman of London‖, a man somewhat advanced in years, having refused to contribute his share, or not coming up to the expectations of the commissioners, was inrolled as a foot soldier in the Scottish wars, and was there taken prisoner. Roach, who had been equally refractory, was thrown into prison, and obtained not his liberty but by paying a large composition[*]. These powers of the prerogative, (which at that time passed for unquestioned) of the King's compelling any man to serve in any office, and of imprisoning any man during pleasure, not to mention the practice of extorting loans, rendered the sovereign, in a manner, absolute master of the person and property of every individual.

EARLY this year the King sent a fleet and army to invade Scotland. The fleet consisted of near two hundred vessels, and carried on board ten thousand men. Dudley lord Lisle commanded the sea forces; the earl of Hertford the land. The troops were disembarked near Leith; and after dissipating a small body which opposed them, they took that town without resistance, and then marched to Edinburgh. The gates were soon beat down (for little or no resistance was made); and the English first pillaged, and then set fire to the city. The regent and cardinal were not prepared to oppose so great a force, and they fled to Stirling.
18th May.

Hertford marched eastward; and being joined by a new body under Evers, warden of the east marches, he laid waste the whole country, burned and destroyed Hadington and Dunbar, and then retired into England; having lost only forty men in the whole expedition. The earl of Arran collected some forces; but finding that the English were already departed, he turned them against Lenox, who was justly suspected of a correspondence with the enemy. That nobleman, after making some resistance, was obliged to fly into England; where Henry settled a pension on him, and even gave him his niece, the lady Margaret Douglas, in marriage. In return, Lenox stipulated conditions, by which, had he been able to execute them, he must have reduced his country to a total servitude[†].

HENRY'S policy was blamed in this sudden and violent incursion; by which he inflamed the passion of the Scotch, without subduing their spirit; and it was commonly said, that he did too much, if he intended to sollicit an alliance, and too little, if he meant a conquest[‡]. But the reason of his withdrawing the 〈…〉 to carry on his projected enterprize against France, where he intended to employ the whole force of his kingdom. He had 〈…〉 plan with the emperor, which threatned the total ruin of that monarchy, and 〈…〉 necessary consequence, have involved the subjection of England. These two princes had agreed to invade France with forces amounting to above a hundred thousand men: Henry engaged to set out from Calais; Charles from the Low Countries: They were to enter on no siege, but leaving all the frontier towns behind them, to march directly to Paris, where they were to join their forces, and thence to proceed to the entire conquest of the kingdom. Francis could not oppose to these formidable preparations, much above forty thousand men.

14th July. Campaign in France.

HENRY, having appointed the Queen regent during his absence, passed over to Calais with thirty thousand men, accompanied with the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, Fitzalan earl of Arundel, Vere earl of Oxford, the earl of Surrey, Paulet lord St. John, lord Ferrers of Chartley, lord Mountjoy, lord Grey of Wilton, Sir Anthony Brown, Sir Francis Bryan, and the most flourishing nobility and gentry of his kingdom. The English army was soon joined by the count de Buren, admiral of Flanders, with ten thousand foot, and four thousand horse; and the whole composed an army, which nothing on that frontier was able to resist. The chief force of the French army was drawn to the side of Champagne, in order to oppose the imperialists.

THE emperor, with an army of near sixty thousand men, had taken the field much earlier than Henry; and not to lose time, while he waited for the march of his confederate, he sat down before Luxembourg, which he took: He thence proceeded to Commercy on the Meuse, which was surrendered to him: Ligny met with the same fate: He next laid siege to St. Disier on the Marne, which, tho' a weak place, made a brave resistance, under the count of Sancerre the governor, and the siege was protracted beyond expectation.

THE emperor was employed before this town at the time the English forces were assembled in Picardy. Henry, either tempted by the defenceless condition of the French frontiers, or thinking that the emperor had first broke engagements by forming sieges, or, perhaps, foreseeing the dangerous consequences of destroying entirely the French power, instead of marching forward to Paris, sat down before Montreuil and Boulog•e. The duke of Norfolk commanded the army before Montreuil: The King himself that before Boulogne. Vervin was governor of Boulogne, and under him Philip Corse, a brave old soldier, who encouraged the garrison to defend themselves to the last extremity against the English.
1
•

th September. He was killed during the course of the siege, and the town was immediately surrendered to Henry by the cowardice of Vervin; who was afterwards beheaded for this dishonourable capitulation.

DURING the course of this siege, Charles had taken St. Disier; and finding the season much advanced, he began to hearken to a treaty of peace with France, since all his schemes for subduing that kingdom were likely to prove abortive. In order to have a pretence for deserting his ally, he sent a messenger to the English camp, requiring Henry immediately to fulfil his engagements, and to meet him with his army before Paris. Henry replied, that he was too far engaged in the siege of Boulogne to raise it with honour, and that the emperor himself had first broke the concert by forming sieges.
18th September.

This answer served Charles as a sufficient reason for concluding a peace with Francis at Crepy, where no mention was made of the English. He stipulated to give Flanders as a dowry to his daughter, whom he agreed to marry to the duke of Orleans, Francis's second son; and Francis, in return, withdrew his troops from Piemont and Savoy, and renounced all claim to Milan, Naples, and other territories in Italy. This peace, so advantageous to Francis, was procured partly by the decisive victory obtained in the beginning of the campaign by the count of Anguyen over the imperialists at Cerisolles in Piemont, partly by the emperor's great desire to turn his arms against the protestant princes in Germany. Charles ordered his troops to separate from the English in Picardy;
30th September.

and Henry, finding himself obliged to raise the siege of Montreuil, returned into England. This campaign served, to the populace, as matter of great triumph; but all men of sense concluded, that the King had, as in all his former military enterprizes, made, at an infinite charge, an acquisition which was of no manner of consequence.

THE war with Scotland, meanwhile, was conducted feebly, and with various success. Sir Ralph Evers, now lord Evers, and Sir Bryan Latoun, made an inroad into that kingdom; and having laid waste the counties of Tiviotdale and the Merse, they proceeded to the abbey of Coldingham, which they took possession of, and fortified. The regent assembled an army of eight thousand men, in order to dislodge them from this post; but he had no sooner opened his batteries before the place, than a sudden panic seized him, and he fled to Dunbar. He complained of the mutinies of his army, and pretended to be afraid lest they should deliver him into the hands of the English: But his own unwarlike spirit was generally believed to have been the motive of this dishonourable retreat. The Scotch army, upon the departure of their general, immediately fell into confusion; and had not Angus, with a few of his retainers, brought off the cannon, and protected their rear, the English might have gained great advantages over them. Evers, elated with this success, boasted to Henry, that he had conquered all Scotland to the Forth; and he claimed a reward for this important service. The duke of Norfolk, who knew with what difficulty such acquisitions would be maintained against a warlike people, advised the King to grant him, as his reward, the conquests of which he so highly boasted. The next inroad made by the English, shewed the vanity of Evers's hopes. This general led about five thousand men into Tiviotdale, and was employed in ravaging that country; when intelligence was brought him, that some Scotch forces appeared near the abbey of Melross. Angus had excited the regent to more activity; and a proclamation being issued for assembling the troops of the neighbouring counties, a considerable body had repaired to his standard. Norman Lesly, son to the Earl of Rothes, had also joined the army with some volunteers from Fife; and he inspired courage into the whole, as well by this accession of force, as by his personal bravery and intrepidity. In order to bring their troops to the necessity of a steddy defence, the Scotch leaders ordered all their cavalry to dismount; and they resolved to wait, on some high grounds at Ancram, the assault of the English.
17th of February.

The English, whose past successes had taught them too much to despise the enemy, thought, when they saw the Scotch horses led off the field, that the whole army was retiring; and they hastened to attack them. The Scotch received them in good order; and being favoured by the advantage of the ground, as well as by the surprize of the English, who expected no resistance, they soon put them to flight, and pursued them with a considerable flaughter. Evers and Latoun were both killed, and above a thousand men were made prisoners. In order to support the Scotch in this war, Francis, some time after, sent over a body of auxiliaries, to the number of three thousand five hundred men, under the command of Montgomery, lord of Lorges[*]. Reinforced by these succours, the regent assembled an army of fifteen thousand men at Hadington, and marched thence to ravage the east borders of England. They laid all waste wherever they came; and having met with no considerable resistance, they retired into their own country, and dispersed themselves. The earl of Hertford, in revenge, committed ravages on the middle and west marches; and the war on both sides was signalized rather by the ills inflicted on the enemy, than by any considerable advantage gained by either party.

THE war likewise between France and England was not distinguished this year by any memorable events. Francis had equipped a fleet of above two hundred fail, besides gallies; and having embarked some land forces on board, he sent them to make a descent in England[†]. They failed to the Isle of Wight, where they found the English fleet lying at anchor in St. Helens. It consisted not of above an hundred fail; and the admiral thought it most adviseable to remain in that road, in hopes of drawing the French into the narrow passages and rocks, which were unknown to them. The two fleets cannonaded one another for two days; and except the sinking of the Mary Rose, one of the largest ships of the English fleet, the damage on both sides was inconsiderable. The French landed troops in the Isle of Wight, and committed ravages; but being repulsed by the militia of the country, they retired to their ships, which soon after set sail for France. They were again driven by the wind on the coast of England, where they met with the English fleet; and a new cannonading ensued, which proved no more decisive than the foregoing. It was indeed scarce possible, that a fleet at that time could, without boarding, gain any considerable advantage over the enemy. The cannon were commonly so ill served, that a French writer of memoirs[†]observes, as a circumstance some what singular, that each of these numerous fleets in a two hours engagement, fired full three hundred shot. One large ship in our time could, without difficulty, do as much.

FRANCIS'S chief intention, in equipping so great a fleet, was to prevent the English from throwing succours into Boulogne, which he intended to besiege; and for that purpose, he ordered a fort to be built, by which he proposed to block up the harbour. After a considerable loss of money and time, the fort was found so ill constructed, that he was obliged to abandon it; and tho' he had brought together, on that frontier, an army of near forty thousand men, he was not able to effect any considerable enterprize. He broke into the territory of Oye, an extent of country which lies near Calais, and which served commonly to supply the garrison with provisions; and he laid it entirely waste by fire and sword. Several skirmishes ensued between the French and English, in one of which the duke of Aumale received a remarkable wound. A lance was run into his head between his eye and nose; and notwithstanding that the lance broke and the head of it remained in the wound, he was not dismounted by so violent a shock, and the head of the lance being extracted by a skilful surgeon, he afterwards recovered, and rendered himself extremely famous by the name of the duke of Guise. Henry, in order to defend his dominions in France, had levied fourteen thousand Germans; who, having marched to Fleurines in the bishopric of Liege, found they could advance no farther. The Emperor would not allow them a passage through his dominions: They received intelligence of a superior army on the side of France ready to intercept them: Idleness and want of pay soon bred a mutiny among them: And having seized the English commissaries as a security for arrears, they retreated into their own country. There seems to have been some want of foresight and contrivance in this expensive armament.

23 November.

A Parliament.

THE great expence of these two wars, maintained by Henry, obliged him to summon a new Parliament. The commons granted him a subsidy, payable in two years, of two shillings a pound on land[‡]: The spirituality voted him six shillings a pound. But the Parliament, apprehensive lest more demands should be made upon them, thought to save themselves by a very extraordinary liberality of other people's property; and by one vote they bestowed on the King the whole revenues of the universities, as well as of the chauntries, free chappels[§], and hospitals. Henry was pleased with this concession, as it encreased his power; but he had no intention of despoiling learning of all her endowments; and he soon took care to inform the universities, that he meant not to touch their revenues. Thus these antient and celebrated establishments owed their subsistance to the generosity of the King, not to the protection of this servile and prostitute Parliament.

THE prostitute spirit of the Parliament appeared farther in the preamble of a statute‖; where they recognize the King to have always been by the word of God supreme head of the church of England, and acknowlege, that archbishops, bishops, and other ecclesiastical persons, have no manner of jurisdiction but by his royal mandate: To him alone, and such persons as he shall appoint, full authority and power is given from above to hear and determine all manner of causes ecclesiastical, and to correct all manner of heresies, errors, vices and sins whatsoever. No mention is here made of the concurrence of a convocation, nor even of a Parliament. His proclamations are acknowleged to have not only the force of a law, but the authority of a revelation; and by his royal power he may regulate the actions of men, and even direct their inward sentiments and opinions.

24 December.

THE King made in person a speech to the Parliament on proroguing them; where, after thanking them for their loving attachment to him, which, he said, equalled what was ever paid by their ancestors to any King of England, he complained of their dissensions, disputes and animosities in religion. He told them, that the several pulpits were become a kind of batteries against each other; and that one preacher called another heretic and anabaptist, which was retaliated by the opprobious terms of papist and hypocrite: That he had permitted his people the use of the scriptures, not in order to furnish them materials for dispute and railing, but that he might enable them to inform their consciences and instruct their children and families: That it grieved his heart to find how that precious jewel was prostituted, by being introduced into the conversation of every alehouse and tavern, and employed as a pretence for decrying the spiritual and legal pastors: And that he was sorry to observe, that the word of God, while it was the object of so much anxious speculation, had very little influence on their practice; and that tho' an imaginary knowlege so much abounded, charity was daily going to decay[*]. The King gave good advice; but his own example, by encouraging speculation and dispute, was ill qualified to promote that peaceable submission of opinion, which he recommended.

HENRY employed in military preparations the money granted by Parliament; and he sent over the earl of Hertford, and lord Lisle the admiral, to Calais with a body of nine thousand men, two thirds of which consisted of foreigners. Some skirmishes ensued of small consequence; and no hopes of any considerable progress could be entertained by either side. Henry, whose animosity against Francis was not violent, had given sufficient vent to his humour by this short war; and finding, that from his great encrease in corpulence and decay in strength, he could not hope for much longer life, he was desirous of ending a quarrel, which might prove dangerous to his kingdom during a minority. Francis likewise, on his part, was not averse to peace with England; because, having lately lost his son, the duke of Orleans, he revived his antient claim upon Milan, and foresaw, that hostilities must soon, on that account, break out between him and the Emperor. Commissioners therefore having met at Campe, a place between Ardres and Guisnes, the articles were soon agreed, and the peace signed by them.
7th of June. Peace with France and Scotland.

The chief conditions were, that Henry should retain Boulogne during eight years, or till the former debt due by Francis should be paid. This debt was settled at two millions of livres, besides a claim of 500,000 livres, which was afterwards to be adjusted. Francis took care to comprehend Scotland in the treaty. Thus all that Henry obtained by a war, which cost him above one million three hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling[†], was a bad security for a debt, which was not a third of the value.

THE King, being now freed from all foreign wars, had leisure to give his attention to domestic affairs; and particularly to the establishment of uniformity of opinion, on which he was so intent. Tho' he allowed an English translation of the Bible, he had hitherto been very careful to keep the mass in Latin; but he was at last prevailed with to permit, that the Litany, a considerable part of the public worship, should be celebrated in the vulgar tongue; and by this innovation, he excited anew the hopes of the reformers, who had been somewhat discouraged by the severity of the statute of the six articles. One petition of the new Litany was a prayer to save us from the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and from all his detestable enormities. Cranmer was employing his authority to engage Henry to farther innovations, and he took advantage of Gardiner's absence, who was employed in an embassy to the emperor; but Gardiner, having wrote to the King, that, if he carried his opposition against the catholic religion to greater extremities, Charles threatened to break off all commerce with him, the success of Cranmer's projects was for the time retarded. Cranmer lost this year the most sincere and most powerful friend, whom he possessed at court; Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk: The Queen dowager of France, spouse to Suffolk, had died some years before. This nobleman is one instance, that Henry was not altogether incapable of a cordial and steady friendship; and Suffolk seems to have been entirely worthy of that favour, which, from his earliest youth, he had enjoyed with him. The King was sitting in council when informed of Suffolk's death; and he took that occasion both to express his own sorrow for the loss, and to celebrate the merits of the deceased. He declared, that, during the whole course of their correspondence, he had not made any attempt to injure an adversary, and had never whispered a word to the disadvantage of any one. "Is there any of you, my lords, who can say as much?" When the King subjoined these words, he looked round in all their faces, and saw that confusion, which the consciousness of secret guilt threw upon them[*].

CRANMER himself, when bereaved of this support, was the more exposed to those cabals of the courtiers, which the opposition of party and religion, joined to the usual motives of interest, rendered so eager among Henry's ministers and counsellors. The catholics took advantage of the King's passion for orthodoxy; and they represented to him, that, if his laudable zeal for inforcing the truth met with no greater success, it was owing altogether to the primate, whose example and encouragement were, in reality, the secret supports of heresy. Henry, seeing the point to which they tended, feigned a compliance, and desired the council to make enquiry into Cranmer's conduct; promising that, if he was found guilty, he should send him to the Tower, and bring him to condign punishment. All the world now gave the primate for lost; and his old friends, from mercenary views, as well as the opposite party, from animosity, began to show him marks of neglect and disregard. He was obliged to stand several hours among the lacqueys at the door of the council-chamber, before he could be admitted; and when he was at last called in, he was told, that they had determined to send him to the Tower. Cranmer said, that he appealed to the King himself; and finding his appeal disregarded, he produced a ring, which Henry had given him as a pledge of favour and protection. The council were confounded; and when they came before the King, he reproved them in the severest terms, and told them, that he was well acquainted with Cranmer's merit, as well as with their malignity and envy: But he was determined to crush all their cabals, and to teach them, by the severest discipline, since gentle methods were vain, a more dutiful concurrence in promoting his service. Norfolk, who was Cranmer's capital enemy, apologized for their conduct, by saying, that their only intention was to set the primate's innocence in a full light by bringing him to an open trial: And Henry obliged them all to embrace him, as a sign of their cordial reconcilement. The mild temper of Cranmer rendered this reconcilement more sincere on his part, than is usual in such forced compliances[†].

Persecutions.

BUT tho' Henry's partiality to Cranmer rendered fruitless all accusations against him, his pride and peevishness, irritated by his declining state of health, carried him to punish with fresh severity all others who presumed to entertain a different opinion from himself, particularly in the capital point of the real presence. Anne Ascue, a young woman of merit as well as beauty[‡], who had great connexions with the chief ladies at court, and with the Queen herself, was accused of dogmati•ing on that delicate article; and Henry, instead of having indulgence to the weakness of her sex and age, was but the more provoked, that a woman should dare to oppose his theological sentiments. She was prevailed on by Bonner's menaces to make a seeming recantation; but she qualified it with some reserves, which did not satisfy that zealous prelate. She was thrown into prison, and there employed herself in composing prayers and discourses, by which she fortified her resolution to endure the utmost extremity rather than relinquish her religious principles. She even wrote to the King, and told him, that as to the Lord's Supper, she believed as much as Christ himself had said of it, and as much of his divine doctrine as the catholic church had required: But while she could not be brought to acknowlege an assent to the King's explications, this declaration availed her nothing, and was rather regarded as a fresh insult. The chancellor, Wriothesely, who had succeeded Audley, and who was much attached to the catholic party, was sent to examine her with regard to her patrons at court, and the great ladies who were in correspondence with her: But she maintained a very laudible fidelity to her friends, and would confess nothing. She was put to the torture in the most cruel manner, and continued still resolute in preserving secrecy. Some authors[†]add a very extraordinary circumstance: That the chancellor, who stood by, ordered the lieutenant of the Tower to stretch the rack farther; but the lieutenant refused compliance with that cruelty: The chancellor menaced him; but met with a new refusal: Upon which that magistrate, who was otherwise a person of merit, but intoxicated with religious zeal, put his own hand to the rack, and drew it so violently that he almost tore her body asunder. Her constancy still surpassed the barbarity of her persecutors, and they found all their efforts to be baffled. She was then condemned to be burned alive; and being so dislocated by the rack, that she could not stand, she was carried to the stake in a chair. Together with her, were brought Nicholas Belenian, a priest, John Lassels of the King's family, and John Adams a taylor, who had been condemned for the same crime to the same punishment. They were all tied to the stake; and in that dreadful situation, the chancellor sent to inform them, that their pardon was ready drawn and signed, and should instantly be given them, if they would merit it by a recantation. They only regarded this offer as a new ornament to their crown of martyrdom; and they saw with tranquillity the executioner kindle the flames which consumed them. Wriothesely did not consider, that this public and noted situation interested their honour the more to maintain a steady perseverance.

BUT tho' the secrecy and fidelity of Anne Ascue saved the Queen from this peril, she soon after fell into a new danger, from which she very narrowly escaped. There was an ulcer broke out in the King's leg, which, joined to his extreme corpulency and his bad habit of body, began both to threaten his life, and to render him, even more than usual, peevish and passionate. The Queen, during this time, attended him with the most tender and dutiful care, and endeavoured, by every soothing art and compliance, to allay those gusts of humour, to which he was become so subject. His favourite topic of conversation was theology; and Catherine, whose good sense made her capable of discoursing on any subject, was frequently engaged into the argument; and being secretly inclined to the principles of the reformers, she unwarily discovered too much of her mind on these occasions. Henry, highly provoked that she should presume to differ from him, made complaints of her obstinacy to Gardiner, who gladly laid hold of the opportunity to inflame the quarrel. He praised the King's anxious care of preserving the orthodoxy of his subjects; and represented, that the more elevated the person was who was chastised, and the more near to his person, the greater terror would the example strike into every one, and the more glorious would the sacrifice appear to all posterity. The chancellor, being consulted, was engaged by religious zeal to second these topics; and Henry, hurried by his own impetuous temper, and encouraged by his counsellors, went so far as to order articles of impeachment to be drawn up against his consort. Wriothesely executed his commands; and soon after brought the paper to him to be signed: For as it was high treason to throw slander upon the Queen, he might otherwise have been questioned for his temerity. In going home, he chanced to drop this important paper from his pocket; and as some person of the Queen's party found it, it was immediately carried to her. She was sensible of the extreme danger to which she was exposed; but did not despair of being able, by her prudence and address, still to elude the efforts of her enemies. She paid her usual visit to the King, and found him in a more serene disposition than she had reason to expect. He entered on the subject which was so familiar to him, and he seemed to challenge her to an argument in divinity. She gently declined the conversation, and observed, that such profound speculations were ill suited to the natural imbecillity of her sex. Women, she said, by their first creation, were made subject to men: The male was created after the image of God; the female after the image of the male: It belonged to the husband to choose principles for his wife; the wife's duty was, in all cases, to adopt implicitely the sentiments of her husband: And as to herself, it was doubly her duty, being blest with a husband, who was qualified, by his judgment and learning, not only to choose principles for his own family, but for the most wise and knowing of every nation. "Not so! by St. Mary," replied the King, "you are now become a doctor, Kate; and better fitted to give than receive instructions." She meekly replied, that she was sensible how little she was intitled to these praises; that tho' she usually declined not any conversation, however sublime, when proposed by his majesty, she well knew, that her conceptions could serve to no other purpose than to give him a little momentary amusement; that she found the conversation apt to languish when not revived by some opposition, and had ventured sometimes to feign a contrariety of sentiments, in order to give him the pleasure of refuting her; and that she also proposed, by this innocent artifice, to engage him into topics, whence, she had observed, by her frequent experience, that she reaped profit and instruction. "And is it so, sweet-heart?" replied the King, "then are we perfect friends again." He embraced her with great affection, and sent her away with assurances of his protection and kindness. Her enemies, who knew nothing of this turn, prepared next day to convey her to the Tower, pursuant to the King's warrant. Henry and Catherine were conversing amicably in the garden, when the chancellor appeared with forty of the pursuivants. The King spoke to him at some distance from her; and seemed to expostulate with him in the severest manner: She even overheard the terms of knave, fool, and beast, which he very liberally bestowed upon that magistrate; and then ordered him to depart his presence. She afterwards interposed to mitigate his anger: He said to her, "Poor soul! you know not how little intitled this man is to your good offices." From thenceforth, the Queen, having narrowly escaped so great a danger, was careful not to offend Henry's humour by any contradiction; and Gardiner, whose malice had endeavoured to widen the breach, could never afterwards recover his favour and good opinion[*].

BUT Henry's tyrannical disposition, soured by ill health, burst out soon after to the destruction of a man, who possessed a much superior rank to Gardiner. The duke of Norfolk and his father, during this whole reign, and even a great part of the foregoing, had been regarded as the greatest subjects in the kingdom, and had rendered very considerable services to the crown. The duke himself had in his youth distinguished himself by naval enterprizes: He had much contributed to the victory over the Scotch at Flouden: He had suppressed a dangerous rebellion in the North: And he had always done his part with honour in all the expeditions against France. Fortune seemed to conspire with his own industry, in raising him to the highest elevation. By the favours heaped on him from the crown, he had acquired an immense estate: The King had successively been married to two of his nieces; and the King's son, the duke of Richmond, had married his daughter: Besides his descent from the antient family of the Moubrays, by which he was allied to the throne, he had espoused a daughter of the duke of Buckingham, who was descended by a female from Edward the third: And as he was believed still to adhere secretly to the antient religion, he was regarded, abroad and at home, as the head of the catholic party. But all these circumstances, in proportion as they exalted the duke, provoked the jealousy of Henry; and he soresaw danger, during his son's minority, both to the public tranquillity, and to the new ecclesiastical system, from the attempts of so potent a subject. But nothing tended more to expose Norfolk to the King's vengeance, than the prejudices, which Henry had entertained against the earl of Surrey, son to that nobleman.

SURREY was a young man of the most promising hopes, and had distinguished himself by every accomplishment, which became a scholar, a courtier, and a soldier. He excelled in all the military exercises, which were then in request: He encouraged the fine arts by his patronage and example: He had made some successful attempts in poetry; and being smit with the romantic gallantry of that age, he celebrated his mistress's praise by his pen and his lance, in every masque and tournament. His spirit and ambition were equal to his talents and his quality; and he did not always regulate his conduct by that caution and reserve, which his situation required. He had been left governor of Boulogne, when that town was taken by Henry; but tho' his personal bravery was unquestioned, he had been unfortunate in some rencounters with the French. The King, somewhat displeased with his conduct, had sent over Hertford to command in his place; and Surrey was so imprudent as to drop some menacing expressions against the ministers, on account of this affront, which was put upon him. And as he had refused to marry Hertford's daughter, and even waved every proposal of marriage, which were made him; Henry imagined, that he had entertained views of espousing the lady Mary; and he was instantly determined to repress, by the most severe expedients, so dangerous an ambition.

ACTUATED by all these motives, and perhaps too influenced by that old disgust, with which the ill conduct of Catherine Howard had inspired him against all her family, he gave private orders to arrest Norfolk and Surrey; and they were on the same day confined to the Tower.
12th of December.

Surrey being a commoner, his trial was the more expeditious; and as to proofs, neither parliaments nor juries seem ever to have given the least attention to them in any cause of the crown, during this whole reign.
Execution of the earl of Surr
•

y. He was accused, that he had entertained in his family some Italians who were suspected to be spies; a servant of his had paid a visit to cardinal Pole in Italy, whence he was suspected of entertaining a correspondence with that obnoxious prelate; he had quartered the arms of Edward the Confessor on his scutcheon, which made him be suspected of aspiring to the crown, tho' both he and his ancestors had openly, during the course of many years, maintained that practice; and the heralds had even justified it by their authority. These were the crimes, for which a jury, notwithstanding his eloquent and spirited defence, condemned this nobleman for high treason; and their sentence was soon after executed upon him.

Attainder of the duke of Norfolk.

THE innocence of the duke of Norfolk was still, if possible, more apparent than that of his son; as his services to the crown had been much greater. His dutchess, with whom he lived on bad terms, had been so base as to carry intelligence to his enemies of all she knew against him: Elizabeth Holland, a mistress of his, had been equally subservient to the designs of the court: Yet with all these advantages his accusers discovered no greater crime, than that he had once said, that the King was sickly, and could not hold out long, and the kingdom was likely to fall into disorders, thro' the diversity of religious opinions. He wrote a m st pathetic letter to the King, pleading his past services, and protesting his innocence: Soon after he embraced a more proper expedient for appeasing Henry, by making a submission and confession, such as his enemies required: But nothing could mollify the unrelenting temper of the King.
14th January.

He assembled the Parliament, as the surest and most expeditious instrument of his tyranny; and the house of peers, without examining the prisoner, without trial or evidence, passed a bill of attainder against him, and sent it down to the commons. Cranmer, tho' engaged for many years in an opposite party to Norfolk, and tho' he had received many and great injuries from him, would have no hand in so unjust a prosecution, and retired to his seat at Croydon[*]. The King was now approaching fast towards his end; and▪ fearing lest Norfolk should escape him, he sent a message to the commons, by which he desired them to hasten the bill, under pretence, that Norfolk enjoyed the dignity of earl marshal, and it was necessary to appoint another, who might officiate at the ensuing ceremony of installing his son, prince of Wales. The obsequious commons obeyed his directions, tho' founded on so frivolous a pretence; and the King, having affixed the royal assent to the bill by commissioners, issued orders for the execution of Norfolk on the morning of the twenty ninth of January. But news being carried to the Tower, that the King himself had expired that night, the lieutenant deferred the execution of the warrant, and it was not thought advisable by the council, to begin a new reign by the death of the greatest nobleman in the kingdom, who had been condemned by a sentence so unjust and tyrannical.

THE King's health had been long in a very declining condition; but for several days all those near him plainly saw his death approaching. He was become so froward, that no one durst inform him of his condition; and as some persons, during this reign, had been punished as traitors for foretelling the King's death[†], every one was afraid, left, in the transports of his fury, he might, on this pretence, inflict punishment on the author of such friendly intelligence. At last, Sir Anthony Denny ventured to disclose to him the fatal secret, and exhorted him to prepare for the fate which was awaiting him. He expressed his resignation; and desired that Cranmer might be sent for: But before that prelate arrived, he was speechless, tho' he still seemed to retain his senses. Cranmer desired him to give some sign of his dying in the faith of Christ:
Death of the King.

He squeezed his hand, and immediately expired, after a reign of▪ thirty-seven years and nine months; and in the fifty-sixth year of his age.

THE King had made his will near a month before his decease; where he confirmed the destination of Parliament, in leaving the crown first to prince Edward, then to the lady Mary, next to the lady Elizabeth: The two princesses he obliged, under the penalty of forfeiting their title to the crown, not to marry without the consent of the council, which he appointed for the government of his minor son. After his own children, he settled the succession on Frances Brandon, marchioness of Dorset, eldest daughter to his sister, the French Queen; then on Eleonor, countess of Cumberland, the second daughter. In passing over the posterity of the Queen of Scots, his eldest sister, he made use of the power obtained from Parliament; but as he subjoined, that after the failure of the French Queen's posterity, the crown should descend to the next lawful heir, it afterwards became a question, whether these words could be applied to the Scottish line. It was thought, that these princes were not the next heirs after the house of Suffolk, but before that house, and that Henry, by expressing himself in this manner, meant entirely to exclude them. The late injuries which he had received from the Scotch, had irritated him extremely against that nation; and he maintained to the last the character of violence and caprice, by which his life had been so much distinguished. Another circumstance of his will may suggest the same reflection with regard to the strange contrarieties of his temper and conduct: He left money for masses to be said for delivering his soul from purgatory; and tho' he destroyed all those institutions, established by his ancestors, and others, for the benefit of their souls, and had even left the doctrine of purgatory doubtful in all the articles of faith which he published during his latter years, he was yet determined, when matters came to the last, to take care, at least, of his own future repose, and to adhere to the safer side of the question[†].

His character.

IT is difficult to give a just summary of this prince's qualities: He was so different from himself in different parts of his reign, that, as is well remarked by lord Herbert, his history is his best character and description. The absolute, uncontrouled authority which he maintained at home, and the regard which he acquired among foreign nations, are circumstances which entitle him to the appellation of a great prince; while his tyranny, and cruelty, seem to exclude him from the character of a good one. He possessed, indeed, great vigour of mind, which qualified him for exercising dominion over men; courage, intrepidity, vigilance, inflexibility: And tho' these qualities lay not always under the guidance of a regular and folid judgment, they were accompanied with good parts, and an extensive capacity; and every one dreaded a contest with a man who was known never to yield, or to forgive, and who, in every controversy, was determined, either to ruin himself or his antagonist. A catalogue of his vices would comprehend many of the worst qualities incident to human nature: Violence, cruelty, profusion, rapacity, injustice, obstinacy, arrogance, bigotry, presumption, caprice: But neither was he subject to all these vices in the most extreme degree, nor was he, at intervals, altogether devoid of virtues: He was sincere, open, gallant, liberal, and capable at least of a temporary friendship and attachment. In this respect he was unfortunate, that the incidents of his times served to display his faults in their full light: The treatment which he met with from the court of Rome, provoked him to violence; the danger of a revolt from his superstitious subjects, seemed to require the most extreme severity. But it must, at the same time, be acknowledged, that his situation tended to throw an additional lustre on what was great and magnanimous in his character: The emulation between the emperor and the French King, rendered his alliance, notwithstanding his impolitic conduct, of great importance in Europe: The extensive powers of his prerogative, and the submissive, not to say slavish, disposition of his Parliament, made it the more easy for him to assume and maintain that entire dominion by which his reign is so much distinguished in the English history.

IT may seem a little extraordinary, that notwithstanding his cruelty, his extortion, his violence, his arbitrary administration, this prince not only acquired the regard of his subjects; but never was the object of their hatred: He seems even in some degree to have possessed, to the last, their love and affection[‡]. His exterior qualities were advantageous, and fit to captivate the multitude: His magnificence and personal bravery rendered him illustrious in vulgar eyes: And it may be said, with truth, that the English in that age, were so thoroughly subdued, that, like eastern slaves, they were inclined to admire even those acts of violence and tyranny, which were exercised over themselves, and at their own expence.

WITH regard to foreign states, Henry appears long to have supported an intercourse of friendship with Francis, more sincere and disinterested than usually takes place between neighbouring princes. Their common jealousy of the emperor Charles, and some resemblance in their characters, (tho' the comparison is extremely to the advantage of the French monarch) served as the cement of their mutual amity. Francis is said to have been affected with the King's death, and to have expressed much regret for the loss. His own health began to decline: He foretold, that he would not long survive his friend[*]: And he died in about two months after him.

THERE were ten Parliaments summoned by Henry the eighth, and twentythree sessions held. The whole time in which these Parliaments sat during this long reign, exceeded not three years and a half. It amounted not to a year during the first twenty years. The innovations in religion obliged him afterwards to call these assemblies more frequently: But tho' these were the most important transactions that ever fell under the cognizance of Parliament, their devoted attachment to Henry's will, joined to their earnest desire of returning soon to their country seats, produced a very quick dispatch of the bills, and made the sessions of short duration. All the King's caprices were▪ indeed, blindly complied with, and no regard was payed to the safety or liberty of the subject. Besides the violent prosecution of whatever he was pleased to call heresy, the laws of treason were multiplied beyond all former precedent. Even words to the disparagement of the King, Queen, or royal issue, were subjected to that penalty; and so little care was taken in framing these rigorous statutes, that they contain obvious contradictions; insomuch, that, had they been strictly executed, every man, without exception, must have fallen under the penalty of treason. By one statute[†], for instance, it was declared treason to assert the validity of the King's marriage, either with Catherine of Arragon, or Anne Bo'eyn: By another[‡], it was treason to say any thing to the disparagement or slander of the princesses, Mary and Elizabeth; and to call them spurious would, no doubt, be construed to their slander. Nor would even a profound silence with regard to these delicate points, be able to save a person from such penalties. For by the former statute, whoever refused to answer upon oath to any point contained in that act, was subjected to the pains of treason. The King, therefore, needed only to propose to any one a question with regard to the legality of either of his first marriages: If the person was silent, he was a traytor by law: If he answered, either in the negative or in the affirmative, he was no less a traytor. So monstrous were the inconsistencies, which arose from the furious passions of the King, and the slavish obedience of his Parliaments. It is hard to say, whether these contradictions were owing to Henry's precipitancy, or to a formed design of tyranny.

His laws.

IT may not be improper to recapitulate whatever is memorable in the statutes of this reign, whether with regard to police or commerce: Nothing can better show the genius of the age than such a review of the laws. The abolition of the ancient religion contributed much to the regular execution of justice. While the catholic superstition subsisted, there was no possibility of punishing any crimes in the clergy: The church would not allow the magistrate to try the offences of her members, and she could not herself inflict any civil penalties upon them. But Henry restrained these pernicious exemptions: The privilege of clergy was abolished for the crimes of petty treason, murder, and felony, to all under the degree of a subdeacon[‡]. But the former superstition not only protected crimes in the clergy: It exempted also the laity from punishment, by affording them shelter in the churches and sanctuaries. The Parliament restrained these abuses. It was first declared, that no fanctuaries were allowed in cases of high treason‖; next, in those of murder, felony, rapes, burglary, and petty-treason[§]: And it limited them in other particulars[**]. The only expedient employed to support the military spirit during this age, was the reviving and extending some old laws, enacted for the encouragement of archery, on which the defence of the kingdom was supposed very much to depend. Every man was ordered to have a bow[††]: Buts were ordered to be erected in every parish[‡‡]: And every bowyer was ordered, for each bow of yew which he made, to make two of elm or wich, for the service of the common people‖‖. The use of cross-bows and hand-guns was also prohibited[§§]. What rendered the English bowmen more formidable was, that they carried halberts with them, by which they were enabled, upon occasion, to engage in close fight with the enemy[¶]. Frequent musters or arrays were also made of the people, even during time of peace; and all men of substance were obliged to have a compleat suit of armour or harness, as it was called[*]. The martial spirit of the English, during that age, rendered this precaution, it was thought, sufficient for the defence of the nation; and as the King had then an absolute power of commanding the service of all his subjects, he could presently, in case of danger, appoint new officers, and levy regiments, and collect an army as numerous as he pleased. Where no faction or division prevailed among the people, there was no foreign power that ever dared to think of invading England. There is a saying of Francis the first, which shows the estimation in which the nation was held in Europe. That magnanimous prince boasted, that, notwithstanding the combination of Charles and Henry against him, in the year 1524, he would be able to defend himself. Spain, says he, has no money; the Low Countries have no soldiers: And as to England, my frontier is strong on that side[†]. The city of London alone could •uster fifteen thousand men[‡]. Discipline, however, was an advantage wanting to these troops; tho' the garrison of Calais was a nursery of officers; and Tournay first‖, Boulougne afterwards, served to increase the number, Every one, who served abroad, was allowed to alienate his lands without paying any fees[†]. A general permission was granted to dispose of land by will[**]. The Parliament were so little jealous of their privileges, (which indeed were scarce worth preserving) that there is an instance of one Strode, who, because he introduced into the lower house some bill regarding tin, was very severely treated by the Stannery courts of Cornwal: Heavy fines were imposed on him; and upon his refusal to pay, he was thrown into a dungeon, loaded with irons, and used in such a manner as brought his life in danger: Yet all the notice which the Parliament took of this enormity, even in such an inferior court, was to enact, that no man could be questioned afterwards for his conduct in Parliament[††]. This prohibition, however, must only be extended to the inferior courts: For as to the King and privy council, and star-chamber, they were scarce bound by any law. There is a bill of tonnage and poundage, which shows what uncertain ideas the Parliament had formed both of their own privileges and of the rights of the sovereign[‡‡]. This duty had been voted to every King since Edward the fourth, during the term of his own life: Yet Henry had already been allowed to levy it six years without any law; and tho' there had been four Parliaments assembled, no attention had been given either to grant it to him regularly, or restrain him from levying it. At last, they resolved to give him that supply; but even in this concession, they show themselves plainly at a loss to determine whether they grant it, or whether he has a right of himself to levy it. They say, that the imposition was made to endure during the natural life of the late King, and no longer: They yet blame the merchants who had not paid to the present King that duty: They observe, that the law for tonnage and poundage was expired; yet make no scruple to call that imposition the King's due: They affirm, that he had sustained great and manifold losses by those who had defrauded him of this duty: And to provide a remedy, they vote him that supply during his life, and no longer. It is remarkable, that notwithstanding this last clause, all his successors, for more than a century, continued in the like irregular practice: If a practice may deserve that epithet, which all the world acquiesced in, and which gave no offence. But when Charles the first attempted to continue in the same course, which had now received the sanction of many generations, so much were the opinions of men altered, that a furious tempest was excited by it, and historians, partial or ignorant, still represent that measure as a most violent and unprecedented enormity in that unhappy prince.

THE foreign commerce of England, during this age, was mostly confined to the Netherlands. The inhabitants of the Low Countries bought the English commodities, and distributed them into the other parts of Europe. Hence the mutual dependance of these countries on each other; and the great loss sustained by both, in case of a rupture. During all the variations of politics, the sovereigns always avoided the coming to this extremity; and tho' the King bore a much greater friendship to Francis, the propensity of the nation always lay towards the emperor.

IN 1528, hostilities commenced between England and the Low Countries; but were soon stopt by mutual agreement. While the Flemish were not allowed to purchase cloth in England, the English merchants could not buy it of the cloathiers, and the cloathiers were obliged to dismiss their workmen, who began to be tumultuous for want of bread. The cardinal, to appease them, sent for the merchants, and ordered them to buy cloth as usual: They told him, that they could not dispose of it as usual; and notwithstanding all his menaces, he could get no other answer from them[*]. An agreement was at last made to continue the commerce between the states, even during war.

THE foreign artificers much surpassed the English in dexterity, industry, and frugality; and hence the violent animosity, which the latter, on many occasions, expressed against any of the former who were settled in England. They had the assurance to complain, that all their customers went to foreign tradesmen; and in the year 1517, being moved by the •editious sermons of one Dr. Bele, and the intrigues of Lincoln, a broker, they raised an insurrection. The apprentices, and others of the poorer sort, in London, began by breaking up the prisons, where some persons were confined for insulting foreigners. They next proceeded to the house of Meutas, a Frenchman, much hated by them; where they committed great disorders; killed some of his servants, and plundered his goods. The mayor could not appease them; nor Sir Thomas Moore, late under sheriff, tho' extremely respected in the city. They also threatned cardinal Wolsey with some insult; and he thought it necessary to fortify his house, and put himself on his guard. Tired at last with these disorders, they dispersed themselves; and the earls of Shrewsbury and Surrey seized some of them. A proclamation was issued, that women should not meet together to babble and talk, and that all men should keep their wives in their houses. Next day the duke of Norfolk came into the city, at the head of thirteen hundred armed men, and made enquiry into the tumult. Be•e and Lincoln, and several others, were sent to the Power, and condemned for treason. Lincoln, and thirteen more were executed. The other persons, to the number of four hundred, were brought before the King with ropes about their necks, fell on their knees, and cried for mercy. Henry knew at that time to pardon; he dismissed them all without further punishment[*].

SO great was the number of foreign artizans in the city, that at least fifteen thousand Flemish alone were at one time obliged to leave it, by an order from the council, when Henry became jealous of their favour for Queen Catherine[†]. Henry himself confesses, in an edict of the star-chamber, printed among the statutes, that the foreigners starved the natives; and obliged them from idleness to have recourse to theft, murder, and other enormities[‡]. He also asserts, that the vast multitudes of the foreigners raised the price of grain and bread‖. And to prevent the increase of the evil, all foreign artificers were prohibited to have above two foreigners in their house, either journeymen or apprentices. A like jealoufy arose against the foreign merchants; and to comply with it, a law was enacted obliging all denizons to pay the duties imposed upon aliens[§]. The Parliament had done better to have encouraged foreign merchants and artizans to come over to England; which might have excited the emulation of the natives, and improved their skill. The prisoners in the kingdom, for debts and crimes, are asserted, in an act of parliament, to be sixty thousand persons and above[**].

THERE is a remarkable clause in a statute passed near the beginning of this reign[††], by which we might be induced to believe, that England was extremely decayed from the flourishing condition which it had attained in former times. It had been enacted in the reign of Edward the second, that no magistrate in town or borough, who by his office ought to keep assize, should, during the continuance of his magistracy, fell either in wholesale or retail, any wine or victuals. This law seemed very equitable, in order to prevent fraud or byeends in fixing the assize: Yet the law is repealed in this reign. The reason assigned is, that "since the making of that statute and ordinance, many and the most part of all the cities, boroughs, and towns corporate, within the realm of England, are fallen in ruin and decay, and are not inhabited by merchants, and men of such substance as at the time of making that statute: For at this day, the dwellers and inhabitants of the same cities and boroughs are commonly bakers, vintners, fishmongers, and other victualers, and there remain few others to bear the offices." Men have such a propensity to exalt past times beyond the present, that it seems dangerous to credit this reasoning of the Parliament, without further evidence to support it. So different are the views in which the same object appears, that some may be inclined to draw an opposite inference from this fact. A more regular police was established in the reign of Henry the eighth, and a stricter administration of justice; and advantage which induced the men of property to leave the provincial towns, and to retire into the country. Cardinal Wolsey, in a speech to the Parliament, represented it as a proof of the increase of riches, that the customs had increased beyond what they were formerly[*].

BUT if there was really a decay of commerce and industry, and population in England, the statutes of this reign, except by abolishing monasteries, and retrenching holidays, a circumstance of considerable moment, were not in other respects well calculated to revive them. The fixing the wages of artificers was attempted[†]: Luxury in apparel was prohibited, by repeated statutes[‡]; and probably without success. The chancellor and other ministers were empowered to fix the price of poultry, cheese, and butter‖. A statute was even passed to fix the price of beef, pork, mutton, and veal[§]. Beef and pork were ordered to be sold at a halfpenny a pound: Mutton and veal at a halfpenny half a farthing. The preamble of the statute says, that these four species of butcher's meat were the food of the poorer sort. This act was afterwards repealed[**].

THE practice of depopulating the country, by abandoning tillage, and throwing the lands into pasturage, still continued[††]; as appears by the new laws which were enacted against that practice. The King was entitled to half the rents of the land, where any farm houses were allowed to go to decay[‡‡]. The unskilful husbandry was probably the cause why the proprietors found no profit in tillage. The number of sheep allowed to be kept in one flock, was restrained to two thousand‖‖. Sometimes, says the statute, one proprietor or farmer would keep a flock of twenty-four thousand. It is remarkable, that the Parliament ascribes the increasing price of sheep and mutton, to this increase of sheep: Because, say they, the commodity being got into few hands, the price of it is raised at pleasure[§§]. It is probable, that the effect proceeded from the daily increase of money: For it is impossible, that such a commodity could be monopolized. Interest was fixed during this reign at ten per cent[*].

SOME laws were made with regard to beggars and vagabonds[†]; one of the circumstances in government, which humanity would most powerfully recommend to a benevolent legislator; which seems, at first fight, the most easily adjusted; and which is yet the most difficult to settle in such a manner, as to attain the end without destroying industry. The convents formerly were a support to the poor; but at the same time▪tended to encourage idleness and beggary.

HENRY, as he possessed himself some talents for letters, was an encourager of them in others. He founded Trinity college in Cambridge, and gave it very ample endowments. Wolsey founded Christ Church in Oxford, and intended to call it Cardinal college: But upon his fall, which happened before he had entirely finished his scheme, the King seized all the revenues; and this violence, above all the other misfortunes of that great minister, is said to have given him the greatest anxiety and concern[‡]. But Henry afterwards restored the revenues of the college, and only changed the name. The cardinal founded in Oxford the first chair for teaching Greek; and this novelty rent that university into the most violent factions, which frequently came to blows. The whole students divided themselves into parties, which bore the names of Greeks and Trojans, and sometimes fought with as great animosity as was formerly exercised by those hostile nations. The rise of the Greek language in Oxford, excited the emulation of Cambridge‖. Wolsey intended to have enriched the library of his college at Oxford, with copies of all the manuscripts that were in the Vatican[§]. The countenance given to letters by this King and his ministers, contributed to render learning fashionable in England; and Erasmus speaks with great satisfaction of the general regard paid by the nobility and gentry of that kingdom to men of knowledge[**]. It is needless to be particular in mentioning the writers of this reign, or of the preceding. There is no man in that age, who had the least pretension to be ranked among our classics. Sir Thomas More, tho' he wrote in Latin, seems to come the nearest to that character.

Notes

*
T. Mori, Lucubr. p. 182.
↵

†
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

‡
Herbert, Stow, p. 486. Hollingshed, p. 799.
↵

§
Lord Herbert.
↵

†
Lord Herbert.
↵

*
Herbert, Stow, p. 486. Hollingshed, p. 799. Pol. Virg. lib. 27.
↵

†
Herbert, Hollingshed, 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 acquital 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. H. 8. c. 8, 10, 11, 12.
↵

*
In 1508.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 8. Bembo
↵

*
Seissel. hist. Louis XII. St. Gelais, Guicciard. lib. 8.
↵

†
Buonacorsi, Pettus de Angleria, epist. 418.
↵

‡
Guicciard. lib. 8.
↵

§
Petrus de Angleria.
↵

‖
Bembo.
↵

*
Guicciard. lib. 8.
↵

†
Spelman, Concil. vol. 2. p. 725.
↵

‡
L'abbé du Bos, Histoire de la Ligue de Cambray.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 10.
↵

†
Guicciardini, lib. 9.
↵

*
Guicciard. lib. 11. P. Daniel, vol. II. p. 1893. Herbert. Hollingshed, p. 831.
↵

†
Herbert. Hollingshed, p. 811.
↵

*
Herbert. Hollingshed, p 813.
↵

*
Or rather Porsmauget, according to P. Daniel's conjecture, vol. II. p. 1901. Hence the English seamen called him Sir Pierce Morgan.
↵

†
Polydore Virg. lib. 27. Stow, p 490. Lanquet's epitome of chronicles, fol. 273.
↵

*
Guicciard, lib. 10.
↵

†
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

‡
4th of November, 1512.
↵

§
Stowe.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

†
Stowe, p. 489. Hollingshed, p. 811.
↵

‡
Buchannan, lib. 13. Drummond in the life of James IV.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 997.
↵

†
Cavendish, Fiddes's life of Wolsey. Stowe.
↵

*
Antiq. Brit. Ecles. p. 309. Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

†
Cavendish, p. 12. Stowe, 499.
↵

*
It was a maxim of Howard's, that no admiral was good for any thing, that was not brave even to a degree of madness. As the sea-service requires much less plan and contrivance and capacity than the land, this maxim has great plausibility and appearance of truth: Tho' the fate of Howard himself may serve as a proof that even there courage ought to be tempered with discretion.
↵

†
Stowe, p. 491. Herbert, Hollingshed, p. 816.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. Belcarius, lib. 14.
↵

*
Hist. de Chev. Bayard, ch. 57. Memoires de Bellai.
↵

†
Memoires de Bellai▪ liv. 1. Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. Hollingshed, p. 822. Herbert.
↵

‡
Memoires du mareschal de Fleuranges Beliarius, lib. 14.
↵

*
Memoires de Fleuranges.
↵

†
Strype's Memorials, vol. 1. p. 5, 6.
↵

‡
Cuicciardini.
↵

*
Buchannan, lib. 13. Drummond. Herbert. Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. Stowe, p. 493. Paullus Jovius.
↵

†
Buchannan, lib. 13. Herbert.
↵

*
Petrus de Angleria, Epis. 545, 546.
↵

*
Du Tillet.
↵

†
Brantome Eloge de Louis XII.
↵

*
Petrus de Angleria, Epist. 544.
↵

*
Erasm. Epist lib. 2. Epist. 1. lib. 16. Epist. 3.
↵

†
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. Stowe, p. 501. Holligshed, p. 847.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

†
Sir Thomas More. Stowe, p. 504.
↵

‡
Eras
•
. lib. 2.

•

pist. 1. Cavendish, Hall.
↵

*
Bachanan, lib. 14. D
•
ummond. Herbert.

↵

*
Buchanan, lib. 14. Drummond.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. 14. Pitscotti
•
.

↵

‡
Memoires du
〈◊〉
l b. 1. Guicciardini lib. 12.

↵

*

〈◊〉
de la L

•

gue de Cambr
•
y
↵

†
Gui
•
cciardini, lib. 12. Paullus Jovius.

↵

‡
Pere Daniel, vol. 3. p. 31.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

†
Petrus de Angleria, epist. 568.
↵

‡
Guicciardini, lib. 12.
↵

*
Recueil de Traités par Leonard, tom. 2.
↵

‡
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

*
Memoires du Bellay, liv. 1.
↵

†
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

*
Strype's Memorials, vol. 1. p. 125.
↵

†
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. This whole narration has been copied by all the historians from the author here cited: There are many circumstances, however, very suspicious, both because of the obvious partiality of the historian, and because the parliament, when they afterwards examined Wolsey's conduct, could find no proof for any material crime he had committed.
↵

‡
This year and the foregoing the sweating sickness raged anew in England. It was called Sudor Anglicus, because few, except the English nation, were at acked by it. Its malignity was such, that it commonly killed within three hours of its commencement. Some towns lost by it an half, others two thirds of their inhabitants.
↵

*
Belcario, lib. 16. Guicciardin, lib. 13.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27.
↵

†
Polydore Virgil, lib. 27. Herbert. Hollingshed, p. 855.
↵

*
Memoires de Fleuranges.
↵

†
An angel was then estimated at seven shillings, or near twelve of our present money.
↵

‡
Memoires de Fleuranges.
↵

*
Mezcray.
↵

*
Polydore Virgil. Hall.
↵

†
Vera, hist. de Charl. V.
↵

‡
Memoires de Bellay, lib. 1.
↵

*
Herbert. Hall. Stow, 513. Hollingshed, p.
•
62.

↵

*
Father Paul and Sleidan.
↵

†
In 1517.
↵

‡
Father Paul, Sleidan.
↵

§
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

*
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

†
Father Paul, Sleidan.
↵

‡
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 14.
↵

†
Petrus de Angleria, epist. 765.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 14.
↵

†
Buchannan, lib. 14. Drummond. Pitscottie.
↵

*
Buchannan, lib. 14. Herbert.
↵

‡
Le Grand, vol. III. p. 39.
↵

*
Buchannan, lib. 14.
↵

*
Herbert. Stowe, 514.
↵

†
Herbert. Stowe, 518. Parliamentary History. Strype, vol. I. p. 49, 50.
↵

*
It is said, that when Henry heard that the commons made a great difficulty of granting the required supply, he was so provoked, that he sent for Edward Montague, one of the members, who had a considerable influence on the house; and he being introduced to his majesty, had the mortification to hear him speak in these words: Ho! man! will they not suffer my bill to pass? And laying his hand on Montague's head, who was then on his knees before him: Get my bill passed by to morrow, or else to-morrow this head of yours shall be off. This cavalier manner of Henry succeeded: For next day the bill was passed. Collin's British peer•ge. Grove's life of Wolsey. We are told by Hall, fol. 38. That cardinal Wolsey endeavoured to terrify the citizens of London into the general loan, exacted in 1525, and told them plainly, that it were better, that some should suffer indigence than that the King at this time should lack; and therefore beware and resist not, nor ruffle not in this 〈…〉. Such was the style, employed by this King and his
〈◊〉
.

↵

†
Speed. Hall. Herbert.
↵

*
Guicciardin, lib 14.
↵

*
Memoires du Bellay, liv. 2.
↵

†
Belcarius, lib. 17.
↵

*
Gulcciardini
↵

†
Herbert.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 15. Memoires du Bellay, liv. 2.
↵

†
Pere Daniel, vol. 3. p. 152.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 15.
↵

*
Guicciardin, lib. 15. Du Bellay, lib. 2.
↵

*
Vera.
〈◊〉
. de Charle

•

V.
↵

†
Guicciardin, lib. 16.
↵

‡
Du Bellay, Liv. 3. Stow. p. 221. Baker, p. 273.
↵

*
Du Tillet, Recucil des Traites de Leonard, tom. 2. Herbert.
↵

†

〈…〉

↵

‡
Herbert, Hall, Stow, 525. Hollinshed, p. 891.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 16.
↵

†
De Vera Hist. de Charles V.
↵

‡
H
••
bert, De V

•

ra, Sandoval.
↵

*
Guicciard
•
ni, lib. 16.

↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 16.
↵

*
Guicciardini, lib. 17.
↵

*
Guicciardiani, lib. 18. Bellay. Stowe, p. 527.
↵

†
30th April.
↵

‡
Burnet, book 3. coll. 12, 13.
↵

*
Morison's Apomaxis, p. 13.
↵

†
Morison, p. 13. Heylin's Queen Mary, p. 2.
↵

‡
Lord Herbert, Fiddes's life of Wolsey.
↵

*
Rymer, XIV. 192, 203. Heylin, p. 3.
↵

†
Burnet, Fiddes.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 38. Stowe, p. 548.
↵

†
Le Grand, vol. 3. p. 46, 166, 168. Saunders. Heylin, p. 4.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 38. Strype, vol. 1. p. 88.
↵

§
Camden's preface to the life of Elizabeth. Burnet, vol. 1. p. 44.
↵

‡
Collier, Eccles. Hist. vol. II. p. 25. from the Cott. Lib. Vitell. B. 9.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 47.
↵

†
Rymer, XIV. 237.
↵

‡
Collier, from Cott. Lib. Vitell. B. 10.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 51.
↵

*
Father Paul, lib. 1▪ Guicciardini.
↵

†
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

‡
Ibid.
↵

‡
Father Paul.
↵

*
Lord Herbert. Burnet, vol. I. p. 29. in the collect. Le Grand, vol. III. p. 28. Strype, vol. I. p. 93. with App. No. 23, 24, &c.
↵

†
Lord Herbert, p. 221. Burnet, p. 59.
↵

‡
Herbert, p. 225.
↵

‖
Burnet, p. 58.
↵

*
Rymer, vol. XIV. p. 270. Strype, vol. I. p. 110, 111. Appen. No. 28.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. I. p. 63.
↵

‡
Herbert, p. 225. Burnet, vol. I. p. 69.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 73. Hall. Stow, p. 543.
↵

†
Herbert.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II. p. 35.
↵

‖
Ryme
•
, XIII. p. 81.

↵

‡
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 76, 77.
↵

§
Herbert, p. 254.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 75.
↵

†
Collier, vol. 2. p. 45. Burnet, vol. 1. p. 53.
↵

‡
Cavendish, p. 40.
↵

*
Cavendish, p. 41.
↵

†
Strype, vol. 1. p. 114, 115. App. No 31, &c.
↵

‡
Stowe, p. 547.
↵

§
Cavendish. Stowe, 549.
↵

*
The first article of the charge against the cardinal is his procuring the legantine power, which, however, as it was certainly done with the King's consent and permission, could be no wise criminal. Many of the other articles also regard the mere exercise of that power. Some articles impute to him as crimes, particular actions, which were natural or unavoidable to any man, that was prime minister with so unlimited an authority; such as receiving first all letters from the King's ministers abroad, receiving first all visits from foreign ministers, desiring that all applications should be made thro' him. He was also accused of naming himself with the King, as if he had been his fellow, the King and I: It is reported that sometimes he even put his own name before the King's, ego et rex meus. But this mode of expression is justified by the Latin idiom. It is remarkable, that his whispering in the King's
•
ar, knowing himself to be affected with venereal distempers, is an article against him. Many of the charges are general and incapable of proof. Lord Herbert goes so far as to affirm, that no man ever fell from so high a station, who had so few real crimes objected to him. This opinion is perhaps too favourable to the cardinal Yet the refutation of the articles by Cromwel, and their being rejected by a house of commons even in this arbitrary reign, is almost a demonstration of Wolsey's innocence. Henry was, no doubt, entirely bent on his destruction, when, on his failure by a parliamentary impeachment, he attacked him upon the statute of provisors, which afforded him so little just hold on that minister. For that this indictment was subsequent to the attack in parliament, appears by Cavendish's life of Wolsey, Stowe, p. 551, and more certainly by the very articles of impeachment themselves. Parliamentary History, vol. 3. p. 42. article 7. Coke's Inst. pt. 4 fol. 89.

↵

*
Cavendish, page 72.
↵

*
These exactions were quite arbitrary, and had risen to a great height. A member said in the house, that a thousand m
•
rks had been exacted from him on that account. Hall, fol 188. Strype, vol. 1. p. 7

•

.
↵

†
P. 293.
↵

*
Parliamentary History, vol. 3. p. 59. Burnet, vol. 2. p. 82.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 83.
↵

*
Fox, p. 1860. 2d edit. Burnet, vol 1. p. 79. Speed, p. 769. Heylin, p. 5.
↵

*
Even judging of this question by the scripture, to which the appeal was every moment made, the arguments for the King's cause appear but lame and imperfect. Marriage in the degree of affinity which had place between Henry and Catherine, is, indeed, prohibited in Leviticus; but it is natural to interpret that prohibition as a part of the Jewish ceremonial or municipal law: And tho' it is there said, in the conclusion, that the gentile nations, by violating these degrees of consangu nity, had incurred the divine displeasure, the extension of this maxim to every precise ca
•
e before specified, is supposing the scriptures to be composed with a minute accuracy and precision, to which, we know with certainty, the sacred penmen did not think proper to confine themselves. The descent of mankind. from one common father, obliged them in the first generation to matry in the nearest degrees of consanguinity: Instances of a like nature occur among the patriarchs: And the marriage of a brother's widow was, in certain cases, not only permitted, but even enjoined as a positive precept by the Mosaical law. It is in vain to say, that this precept was an exception to the rule; and an exception confined merely to the Jewish nation. The inference is still just, that such a marriage can contain no natural or moral turpitude; otherwise God, who is the author of all purity, would never, in any case, have enjoined it.

↵

†
Herbert. Burnet.
↵

‡
Wood. hist. and ant. Ox. lib. I. p. 225.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. I. p. 6.
↵

§
Rymer XIV. 405. Burnet, vol. I. p. 95.
↵

*
Rymer XIV. 454, 472.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 94.
↵

†
Cavendish. Stowe, p. 554.
↵

‡
Cavendish.
↵

*
Antiq Brit. Eccles. p. 325. Burnet, vol. I. p. 106.
↵

†
Hollingshed, p. 923.
↵

‡
Hall's Chronicle. Hollingshed, p. 923. Baker, p. 208.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. I. Collect. N
•
. 41. Strype, vol. I. p. 144.

↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 116. Hall▪ Parliamentary History.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. I. p. 123, 124.
↵

‡
Herbert. Hall, fol. 205.
↵

*
Herbert, 340, 341.
↵

†
24 Hen. VIII. c. 12.
↵

‡
Collier, vol. II. p. 31. and Records, No. 8.
↵

‖
Bishop Burnet has given us an account of the number of bulls requisite for Cranmer's installation. By one bull▪ directed to the King, he is, upon the royal nomination, made archbishop of Canterbury. By a second, directed to himself, he is made archbishop. By a third, he is absolved from all censures. A fourth, is to the suffragans, requiring them to receive and acknowledge him as archbishop. A fifth to the dean and chapter, to the same purpose. A sixth to the clergy of Canterbury. A seventh to all the laity in his see. An eighth to all that held lands of it. By a ninth he was ordained to be consecrated, taking the oath that was in the pontifical. By a tenth bull the pall was sent him. By an eleventh, the archbishop of York, and the bishop of London, were required to put it on him. These were so many artifices to draw fees to offices, which the popes had erected, and disposed of for money. It may be worth observing, that Cranmer, before he took the oath to the pope, made a protestation, that he did not intend thereby to restrain himself from any thing that he was bound to, either by his duty to God, the King, or the country; and that he renounced every thing in it that was contrary to any of these. This device was the invention of some casuist, and not very compatible with that strict sincerity, and that scrupulous conscience, of which Cranmer made profession. Collier, vol. II. in Coll. No. 22. Burnet, vol. I. p. 128, 129.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 6.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. I. p. 134.
↵

†
Herbert, p. 326. Burnet, vol. 1. p. 132.
↵

‡
Le Grand, vol. 3. p. 566.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. 2. p. 133. Guicciardini.
↵

*
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

†
Father Paul, lib. 1.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 144.
↵

*
Le Neve's Fasti eccles. Ang.
↵

†
25.
•
. 8. c. 1

•

.
↵

‡
Collier, vol. 2. p. 69, 70.
↵

†
Collier's Eccl. Hist. vol. 2.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 156.
↵

†
26 H. 8. c. 1.
↵

*
Sleidan, lib. 4. & 5.
↵

†
Here are the terms in which the King's minister expressed himself to the pope. An non, inquam, sanctitas vestra plerosque habet quibuscum arcanum aliquid crediderit, putet id non minus celatum esse quam si uno tantum pectore contineretur; quod multo magis serenissimo Angliae Regi evenire debet, cui singuli in suo regno sunt subjecti, neque etiam velint, possunt Regi non esse
•
idelissimi. Vae namque illis, si vel parvo momento ab illius voluntate recederent. Le Grand, tom. III. p. 113. The King once said publicly before the council, that if any one spoke of him or his actions, in terms which became them not, he would let them know, that he was master. Et qu'il n▪y auroit si belle tete qu'il ne fit voler. Id. p. 218.

↵

‡
Burnet, vol. I. p. 159.
↵

*
Sacrilegium est & impietas velle placere Deo per opera & non per solam
•
idem. Luther adversus regem. Ita vides quam dives sit homo christianus five baptizatus, qui etiam volens non potest p

•

rdere salutem suam quantiscunque p
•
ccatis. Nulla enim peccata possunt cum damnare nisi incredulitas. Id. de ca•tivitate Babylonica.
↵

†
Hall, fol. 186. Fox, vol. I. p. 138. Burnet, vol. I. p. 159.
↵

‡
Articles of impeachment in Herbert. Burnet.
↵

*
Fox. Burnet, vol. I. p. 165.
↵

†
Ibid. p. 164.
↵

‡
Strype, vol. I. p. 167.
↵

†
Collier, vol. II. p. 86. Burnet, vol. I. p. 151.
↵

‖
Stow, p. 562.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 570. Blanquet's Epitome of chronicles.
↵

†
Strype, vol I. p. 181.
↵

‡
Collier, vol. II. p. 87.
↵

*
25 Hen. VIII. c. 12. Burnet, vol. I. p. 149. Hall, fol. 220.
↵

†
Godwin's Annals, p. 53.
↵

*
Fuller's Church Hist. book 5. p. 203.
↵

*
More's Life of Sir Thomas More. Herbert, p. 393.
↵

*
Sanders, p. 148.
↵

†
Herbert, p. 350, 351.
↵

‡
Sleidan, lib. 10.
↵

*
Herbert, p. 403.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. 1. p 1
•
2.

↵

‡
Du Bellay, liv▪ 5. Herbert. Burnet, vol. 3. in Coll. No 50.
↵

*
27 Hen. VIII. c. 28.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. I. p. 193.
↵

‡
It is pretended, see Hollingshed, p. 939, that ten thousand monks were turned out on the dissolution of the l
•
sser monasteries. If so, most of them must have been Mendicants: For the revenue could not have supported near that number. The Mendicants, no doubt, still continued their former profession.

↵

‖
27 Hen. VIII. c. 27.
↵

§
27 Hen. VIII. c. 4.
↵

*
27 Hen. VIII. c. 10.
↵

*
Burnet, vol I. p. 19
•
.

↵

*
Burnet, vol. 1. p. 198.
↵

†
Strype, vol. 1. p. 281.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 202.
↵

*
Herbert, page 384.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 94.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. I. p. 2
•
5.

↵

‖
Burnet vol I. p. 2
•
7.

↵

*
Ibid.
〈…〉
vol. I. p

〈◊〉

.
↵

†
The King is thought to have had a design of leaving the crown, in case of the failure of his lawful male issue, to his favourite son, the duke of Richmond. But the death of that promising nobleman, which happened soon after, disappointed all projects in his favour. Heylin, p. 6.
↵

‡
28 Hen. VIII. c. 10.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. I. p. 212.
↵

*
Collier, vol. II p. 119.
↵

*
Collier, vol. ii. p. 122, & seq. Fuller. Burnet, vol. i. p. 215.
↵

†
A proposal had formerly been made in the convocation for the
〈◊〉
of the lesser monasteries: and had been much opposed by Bishop Fish

•

r, who was then alive. He told
〈◊〉
brethren, that
〈◊〉
was sa
•
rl showing the
•••
g the way, how he might come at the greater monasteries.
"An a•, which wanted a handle, came upon a time into the wood, m••ing his m••• to the great trees, that he wanted a handle to wor• withal, and for that cause he was constrained to sit idle; therefore he made it 〈◊〉 request to them, that they would be pleased to grant him •ne of them •••ll saplings 〈◊〉 the wood to make him a handle; who, mistrusting no guile, granted him one of their smaller trees to make him a handle. But now becoming a compleat ax, he fell so to work, within the same wood, that, in process of time, there was neither great nor small trees to be found in the place, where the wood stood. And so, my lords, if you grant the King these smaller monasteries, you do but make him a handle, whereby, at his own pleasure, he may cut down all the cedars within your Lebanons."
Dr. Bailies' Life of Bishop Fisher, p. 108.
↵

†
Strype, vol. i. p. 249.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. i. p. 223.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. i. p. 227. Herbert.
↵

§
Herbert, p. 410.
↵

*
Fox, vol. ii. p. 992▪
↵

†
Stowe, p 574. Ba
••
r, p. 258.

↵

*
Herbert, p. 428.
↵

†
Strype, vol. ii. p. 5.
↵

*
Collier, vol. ii. p. 145. from the Cott. Lib. Cleopatra, E. 5. fol. 173.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 328.
↵

*
Herbert, p. 431, 432. Stowe, p. 575.
↵

†
Goodwin's Annals. Stowe, p. 575. Herbert. Baker, p. 286.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 244.
↵

†
Lord Herbert, Camden, Speed.
↵

*
Coke's 4th Inst. fol. 44.
↵

†
Dugdale's Warwickshire, p. 800.
↵

‡
Fuller.
↵

§
Burnet, vol. i. p. 237.
↵

†
Goodwin's Annals.
↵

*
Herbert.
↵

†
Herbert in Kennet, p. 216.
↵

*
Fox, vol. II. p. 396.
↵

†
Fox, vol. II. p. 426.
↵

‡
Goodwin's Annals.
↵

*
Collier, in his ecclesiastical history, vol. II. p. 152, has preserved an account which Cromwel gave of this conference, in a letter to Sir Thomas Wyat, the King's embassador in Germany.
"The King's majesty," says Cromwel, "for the reverence of the holy sacrament of the altar, did sit openly in his hall, and there presided at the disputation, process and judgment of a miserable heretic sacramentary, who was burned the 20th of November. It was a wonder to see how princely, with how excellent gra•ity, and inestimable majesty his highness exercised there the very office of supreme head of the church of England. How benignly his grace essayed to convert the miserable man: How strong and manifest reasons his highness alledged against him. I wish the princes and potentates of Christendom to have had a meet place to have seen it. Undoubtedly they should have much marvelled at his majesty's most high wisdom and judgment, and reputed him no other wise after the same, than in a manner the mirror and light of all other Kings and princes in Christendom."
It was by such flatteries, that Henry was engaged to make his sentiments the standard to all mankind; and was determined to enforce, by the severest penalties, his strong and manifest reasons for transubstantiation.

↵

†
Fox's acts and monuments, p. 427. Burnet.
↵

‡
Stowe, p. 556.
↵

*
31 Hen. VIII. c. 14. Herbert in Kennet, p. 219.
↵

†
There is a story, that the duke of Norfolk, meeting, soon after this act was passed, one of his chaplains, who was suspected of favouring the reformation, said to him, ‘"Now, Sir, what think you of the law to hinder priests from having wives?"’ ‘"Yes, my lord," replies the chaplain, "you have done that; but I will answer for it, you cannot hinder men's wives from having priests."’
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. I. p. 249, 270. Fox, vol. II. p. 1037.
↵

‖
Herbert in Kennet, p. 210
↵

*
31 Hen. VIII.
•
. 8.

↵

*
Coke's 4th Inst. p. 37, 38.
↵

†
Rymer xiv. 652.
↵

*
Collier, vol. ii. p. 158. & seq.
↵

†
31 II. VIII. c. 10.
↵

‡
31 H. VIII. c. 13.
↵

*
Le Grand, vol. iii. p. 638.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 579.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 278.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 281, 282.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. i. p. 172
↵

‡
To show how much Henry sported with law and common sense; how servilely the Parliament followed all his caprices; and how much both of them were lost to all sentiment of shame; an act was passed this session, declaring, that a precontract should be no ground of annulling a marriage; as if that pretext had not been made use of both in the case of Anne Boleyn and Anne of Cleves. But the King's intention in this law is said to be a design of restoring the princess Elizabeth to her right of legitimacy; and it was his character never to look farther than the present object, without regarding the inconsistency of his conduct. The Parliament made it high treason to deny the dissolution of Henry's marriage with Anne of Cleves. Herbert.
↵

*
Herbert, p. 458, 459.
↵

*
Pere Daniel, Du Tillet.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. I. p. 298. Fox.
↵

‡
Fo
•
, vol. II. p. 5

•

9.
↵

‖
Saunders de schism. Angl.
↵

*

〈◊〉
p

••

8.
↵

†
Spotswood's Hist, church of Scotland, p. 62.
↵

‡
Spotswood, p. 65.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. XIV. Drummond in Ja. 5. Pitscoti
•
, ibid. Knox.

↵

*
Burnet, vol. I. p. 314.
↵

*
It was enacted by this Parliament, that there should be trial of treason in any country where the King should appoint by commission. The statutes of treason had been extremely multiplied in this reign; and such an expedient saved trouble and charges in trying that crime. The same Parliament erected Ireland into a kingdom; and Henry henceforth annexed the title of King of Ireland to his other titles. This session, the commons first began the practice of freeing any of their members, who were arrested, by a writ issued by the speaker. Formerly it was usual for them to apply for a writ from chancery to that purpose. This precedent encreased the authority of the commons, and had afterwards considerable consequences. Hollingsh
••
, p. 955▪ 956. Baker, p. 289.

↵

*
Collier, vol. ii. p. 190.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. i. p. 315.
↵

‡
Which met on the 22d of January, 1543.
↵

‖
33 Hen. VIII. c. 1.
↵

§
Parliamentary History, vol. iii. p. 113.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 318.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. 14. Drummond in James the fifth.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. 14.
↵

†
Buchanan, lib. 14.
↵

*
The persecutions, exercised during James's reign, are not to be ascribed to his bigotry, a vice of which he seems to have been as free as Francis the first or the emperor Charles, both of whom, as well as James, shewed, in different periods of their lives, even an inclination to the new doctrines. The extremities to which all these princes were carried, proceeded entirely from the situation of affairs, during that age, which rendered it impossible for them to act with greater temper or moderation, after they had embraced the resolution of supporting the antient establishments. So violent was the propensity of the times towards innovation, that a toleration of the new preachers was equivalent to a formed design of changing the national religion. And even the greatest friends to liberty of conscience have admitted, that tho' a sect, which has already diffused itself, has a just claim to indulgence, yet may it often be consistent with equity as well as found policy, to repress by severity the first beginnings of schism and new systems of theology.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 584. Herbert, Burnet, Buchanan.
↵

†
Sadler's Letters, p. 161. Spotswood, p. 71. Buchanan, lib. 15.
↵

‡
John Knox, History of the reformation.
↵

*
Sir Ralph Sadler's Letters.
↵

†
Buchanan, lib. 15.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. XV.
↵

‡
Buchanan, lib. XV. Drummond.
↵

*
Pere Daniel.
↵

†
Rymer, XIV. p. 768. XV. 2.
↵

‡
They who were worth in goods twenty shillings and upwards to five pounds, paid four pence of every pound; from five pounds to ten pounds, eight pence; from ten pounds to twenty pounds, sixteen pence; from twenty and upwards, two shillings. Lands, fees, and annuities, paid eight pence in the pound from twenty shillings to five pounds; from five pounds to ten pounds, sixteen pence; from ten pounds to twenty pounds, two shillings; from twenty pounds and upwards, three shillings.
↵

*
Collier, vol. II. p. 176.
↵

†
Burnet, p. 322.
↵

‖
34 & 35 Hen. VIII. c. 1
↵

‖
Memoires du Bellay, lib. X.
↵

*
35 Hen. VIII. c. 12.
↵

†
35 Hen. VIII. c. 1.
↵

‖
Herbert. Stowe, p. 588. Baker, p. 292.
↵

*
Goodwin's Annals. Stowe, p. 588.
↵

†
Rymer, XV. 23, 29.
↵

‡
Herbert. Burnet.
↵

*
Buchanan, lib. XV. Drummond.
↵

†
Beleair. Memoires du Bellay.
↵

†
De Langey.
↵

‡
Those who possessed goods or money, above five pound and below ten, were to pay eight pence a pound: Those above ten pound, a shilling.
↵

§
A chauntry was a little church, chappel, or particular altar in some cathedral church, &c. endowed with lands or other revenues for maintainance of one or more priests, daily to say mass or perform divine service, for the use of the founders, or such others as they appointed: Free chappels were independant on any church, and endowed for much the same purpose as the former. Jacob's Law 〈◊〉
↵

‖
37 Hen. VIII. c. 17.
↵

*
Hall, fol 261. Herbert, p. 534.
↵

†
Herbert, Stowe.
↵

*
Coke's Inst. cap. 99.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. i. p.
〈…〉
Antiq. Brit. in vita Cranm.

↵

‡
Dale, Speed, 780.
↵

†
Fox, vol. ii. p. 578. Speed, p. 780. Baker, p. 299. But Burnet questions the truth of this circumstance: Fox, however, transcribes her own paper, where she relates it. I must add, in justice to the King, that he disapproved of Wriothesely's conduct, and commended the lieutenant.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 344. Herbert, p. 560. Speed, p 780. Fox's Acts and Monuments, vol. ii. p. 58.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. i. p. 348. Fo
•
.

↵

†
Lanquet's Epitome of chronicles in the year 1541.
↵

†
See his will in Fuller, Heylin, and Rymer, p. 110. There is no reasonable ground to suspect its authenticity.
↵

‡
Strype, vol I. p. 389.
↵

*
Le Thou.
↵

†
28 Hen. VIII. c. 7.
↵

‡
34, 35 Hen. VIII. c 1.
↵

‡
23 Hen. VIII. c. 1.
↵

‖
26 Hen. VIII. c. 13.
↵

§
32 Hen. VIII. c. 12.
↵

**
22 Hen. VIII. c. 14.
↵

††
3 Hen. VIII. c. 3.
↵

‡‡
Ibid.
↵

‖‖
Ibid.
↵

§§
3 Hen. VIII. c. 13.
↵

¶
Herbert.
↵

*
Hall, fol. 234. Stowe, p. 515. Hollingshed, p. 947.
↵

†
P. Daniel.
↵

‡
Hall, fol. 235. Hollingshed, p. 547. Stowe, p. 547.
↵

‖
Hall, fol. 68.
↵

†
14 and 15 Hen. VIII. c. 15.
↵

**
34 and 35 Hen. VIII. c. 5.
↵

††
4 Hen. VIII. c. 8.
↵

‡‡
6 Hen. VIII. c. 14.
↵

*
Hall,
•
olio 174.

↵

*
Stowe, 505. Hollingshed, 840.
↵

†
Le Grand, vol. III. p. 232.
↵

‡
21 Hen. VIII.
↵

‖
Ibid.
↵

§
22 Hen. VIII. c. 8.
↵

**
3 Hen. VIII. c. 15.
↵

††
3 Hen. VIII. c. 8.
↵

*
Hall, folio 110.
↵

†
6 Hen. VIII. c. 3.
↵

‡
1 Hen. VIII. c. 14. 6 Hen. VIII. c. 1. 7 Hen. VIII. c. 7.
↵

‖
25 Hen. VIII. c. 2.
↵

§
24 Hen. VIII. c. 3.
↵

**
33 Hen. VIII. c. 11.
↵

††
Strype, vol. I. p. 392.
↵

‡‡
6 Hen. VIII. c. 5. 7 Hen. VIII. c. 1.
↵

‖‖
25 Hen. VIII. c. 13.
↵

§§
25 Hen. VIII. c. 13.
↵

*
37 Hen. VIII. c 9.
↵

†
22 Hen. VIII. c. 12. 22 Hen. VIII. c. 5.
↵

‡
Strype, vol. I. p. 117.
↵

‖
Wood's hist. & ant. Oxon. lib. I. p. 245.
↵

§
Ibid. 249.
↵

**
Epist. ad Banisium Also epist. p. 368.
↵

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR.
EDWARD VI.

CHAP. I.

State of the regency.—Innovations in the regency.—Somerset protector.—Reformation compleated.—Gardiner's opposition.—Foreign affairs.—Progress of the reformation in Scotland.—Assassination of cardinal Beaton.—Conduct of the war with Scotland.—Battle of Pinkey.—A Parliament.—Farther progress of the reformation.—Affairs of Scotland.—Young Queen of Scots sent into France.—Cabals of lord Seymour.—Dudly earl of Warwick.—A Parliament.—Attainder of lord Seymour.—His execution.—Ecclesiastical affairs.

State of the regency.

THE late King, by the regulations, which he imposed on the government of his infant son, as well as by the limitations of the succession, had projected to reign even after his decease; and he imagined, that his ministers, who had always been so obsequious to him during his life-time, would never afterwards depart from the plan, which he had traced out to them. He fixed the majority of the Prince at the completion of his eighteenth year; and as Edward was at present only a few months past nine, he appointed sixteen executors; to whom, during the minority, he entrusted the government of the King and kingdom. Their names were, Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury; lord Wriothesley, chancellor; lord St. John, great master; lord Russel, privy seal; the earl of Hertford, chamberlain; viscount Lisle, admiral; Tonstal, bishop of Durham; Sir Anthony Brown, master of horse; Sir William Paget, secretary of state; Sir Edward North, chancellor of the court of augmentations; Sir Edward Montague, chief justice of the common pleas; judge Bromley, Sir Anthony Denny, and Sir William Herbert, chief gentlemen of the privy chamber; Sir Edward Wotton, treasurer of Calais; Dr. Wotton, dean of Canterbury. To these sixteen executors, with whom was entrusted the whole regal authority, were added twelve counsellors, who possessed no immediate power, and could only assist with their advice, when any affair was laid before them. The council was composed of the earls of Arundel and Essex; Sir Thomas Cheyney, treasurer of the household; Sir John Gage, comptroller; Sir Anthony Wingfield, vice chamberlain; Sir William Petre, secretary of state; Sir Richard Rich, Sir John Baker, Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir Thomas Seymour, Sir Richard Southwel, and Sir Edmund Peckham[*]. The usual caprice of Henry appears somewhat in this nomination; while he appointed several persons of inferior station among his executors, and gave only the place of counsellor to a person of such high rank as the earl of Arundel, and to Sir Thomas Seymour, the King's uncle.

Innovations in the regency.

BUT the first act of the executors and counsellors was to depart from the destination of the late King in a material article. No sooner were they met, than it was suggested, that the government would lose its dignity, for want of some head, who might represent the royal majesty, who might receive addresses from foreign ambassadors, to whom dispatches from English ministers abroad might be carried, and whose name might be employed in all orders and proclamations: And as the King's will seemed to contain a defect in this particular, it was concluded necessary to supply it, by choosing a protector; who, tho' he should possess all the exterior symbols of royal dignity, should yet be bound, in every exercise of power, to follow the opinion of the executors[†]. This proposal was very disagreeable to chancellor Wriothesely. That magistrate, a man of an active spirit and high ambition, found himself, by his office, entitled to the first rank in the regency after the primate; and as he knew, that that prelate had no talent nor inclination for state affairs, he hoped, that the direction of public business would of course devolve in a great measure upon himself. He opposed, therefore, this proposal of choosing a protector; and represented that innovation as an infringement of the King's will, which, being corroborated by act of parliament, ought in every thing to be a law to them, and could not be altered but by the same authority, which had established it. The executors and counsellors were mostly courtiers, who had been raised by Henry's favour, not men of high birth or great dependances; and as they had been sufficiently accustomed to submission during the reign of the late monarch, and had no pretensions to govern the nation by their own authority, they acquiesced the more willingly in a proposal, which seemed calculated for preserving public peace and tranquillity.
Somerset protector.

It being therefore agreed to name a protector, the choice fell of course on the earl of Hartford, who, as he was the King's maternal uncle, was strongly interested in his safety; and having no pretensions to inherit the crown, could never have any separate interest, which might engage him to endanger Edward's person or his authority[*]. The public were informed by proclamation of this change in the administration; and dispatches were sent to all foreign courts to give them intimation of it. All those possessed of any office resigned their former commissions, and took out new ones in the name of the young King. The bishops themselves were constrained to make a like submission. Care was taken to insert in their new commissions, that they held their office during pleasure[†]: And it is there expressly affirmed, that all manner of authority and jurisdiction, as well ecclesiast cal as civil, is originally derived from the crown[‡].

THE executors showed, in their next measure, a more submissive deference to Henry's will; because many of them found their own account in it. The late King had intended, before his death, to make a new creation of nobility, in order to supply the place of those who had fallen by former attainders, or the failure of issue; and that he might enable the persons to support their new dignity, he had resolved either to bestow estates on them, or advance them to higher offices. He had even gone so far as to inform them of this resolution; and in his will, he charged his executors to make good all his promises[§]. That they might ascertain his intentions in the most authentic manner, Sir William Paget, Sir Anthony Denny, and Sir William Herbert, with whom Henry had always conversed in a familiar manner, were called before the board of regency; and having given evidence of what they knew concerning the King's promises, their testimony was relied on, and the executors proceeded to the fulfilling these engagements. Hartford was created duke of Somerset, marschal and lord treasurer;
17th of February.

Wriothesely, earl of Southampton; the earl of Essex, marquess of Northampton; viscount Lisle, earl of Warwick; Sir Thomas Seymour, lord Seymour of Sudley, and admiral: Sir Richard Rich, Sir William Willoughby, Sir Edward Sheffield, accepted the title of baron[*]: Several, to whom the same dignity was offered, refused it; because the other part of the King's promise, the bestowing estates on these new noblemen, was deferred till a more convenient opportunity. Some of them, however, particularly Somerset the protector, were, in the mean time, endowed with spiritual preferments, deanories and prebendaries. For among many other invasions of ecclesiastical privileges and properties, this irregular practice, of bestowing spiritual benefices on laymen, began now to prevail.

THE earl of Southampton had always been engaged in an opposite party to Somerset; and it was not likely that factions, which had secretly prevailed, even during the arbitrary reign of Henry, should be suppressed in the weak administration, which usually attends a minority. The former nobleman, that he might have the greater leisure for attending to state-affairs, had, of himself and from his own authority, put the great seal in commission, and had empowered four lawyers, Southwel, Tregonel, Oliver, and Bellasis, to execute in his absence the office of chancellor. This measure seems very exceptionable; and the more so, that two of the commissioners being canonists, the lawyers suspected, that, by this nomination, the chancellor had intended to discredit the common law. Complaints were made to the council; who, influenced by the protector, gladly laid hold of this opportunity to depress Southampton. They consulted the judges with regard to so unusual a case, and received for answer, that the commission was illegal, and that the chancellor, by his presumption in granting it, had justly forfeited the seals, and was even liable to punishment. The council summoned him to appear before them; and tho' he maintained, that he held his office by the late King's will, founded on an act of parliament, and could not lose it without a trial before the Parliament; that if the commission, which he had granted, was found illegal, it might be declared null and void, and all the ill consequences of it be easily remedied; and that the depriving him of the seals for an error of this nature, was a precedent by which any other innovation might be authorized; the council, notwithstanding all these topics of defence, declared that he had forfeited his office; that a fine should be imposed upon him; and that he should be confined to his own house during pleasure[†].

THO' the removal of Southampton encreased the protector's authority, and tended to suppress factions in the regency; yet was not Somerset contented with this advantage: His ambition carried him to seek still farther acquisitions. Under pretence, that the vote of the executors, choosing him protector, was not a sufficient foundation for his authority, he procured a patent from the young King, by which he entirely overturned the will of Harry the eighth, produced a total revolution in the government, and may seem even to have subverted all the laws of the kingdom.
12 March.

He named himself protector with full regal power, and appointed a council, consisting of all the former counsellors, and all the executors except Southampton: He reserved a power of naming any other counsellors at pleasure: And he was bound to consult with such only as he thought proper. The protector and his council were likewise empowered to act at discretion, and to execute whatever they thought serviceable to the government, without incurring any penalty or forfeiture from any law, statute, proclamation, or ordinance whatsoever[*]. Even had this patent been less exorbitant in its concessions, and had it been drawn by directions from the executors appointed by Henry, its legality might justly be questioned; since it seems essential to a trust of this nature to be exercised by the persons entrusted, nor can it be delegated to others: But as the patent, by its very tenor, where the executors are not so much as mentioned, appears to have been surreptitiously obtained from a minor King, the protectorship of Somerset was a plain usurpation, which it is impossible by any arguments to justify. The connivance, however, of the executors, and their present acquiescence in the new establishment, made it be universally submitted to; and as the young King discovered an extreme attachment to his uncle, who was also in the main a man of moderation and probity, no objections were made to his power and title. All men of sense, likewise, as they saw the nation divided by the religious zeal of the opposite sects, thought it the more necessary to entrust the government to one person, who might check the exorbitancies of party, and ensure the public tranquillity. And tho' some clauses of the patent seemed to imply a formal subversion of all liberty or limited government, so little jealousy was then usually entertained on that head, that no exception was ever taken at bare claims or pretensions of this nature, advanced by any person, possessed of sovereign power. The actual exercise alone of arbitrary administration, and that in many and great and flagrant and unpopular instances, was able sometimes to give some umbrage to the nation.

Reformation compleated.

THE extensive authority and imperious character of Henry, had retained the partizans of both religions in subjection; but upon his decease, the hopes of the protestants and the fears of the catholics began to revive, and the zeal of these parties produced every where disputes and animosities, the usual preludes of more fatal divisions. The protector had long been regarded as the secret partizan of the reformers; and being now freed from restraint, he scrupled not to express his intention of correcting all the abuses of the antient religion, and of adopting still more of the protestant innovations. He took care, that all the persons, to whom he entrusted the King's education, should be attached to the same principles▪ and as the young Prince discovered a zeal for every kind of literature, especially the theological, far beyond his tender years, all men foresaw, in the course of his reign, the total abolition of the catholic faith; and they early began to declare themselves in favour of those tenets, which were likely to become in the end entirely prevalent. After Southampton's fall, few members of the council seemed to retain any attachment to the Romish communion; and most of the counsellors appeared even sanguine in forwarding the progress of the reformation. The riches which most of them had acquired from the spoils of the clergy, induced them to widen the breach between England and Rome; and by establishing a contrariety of speculative tenets, as well as of discipline and worship, to render a coalition with the mother church altogether impracticable[*]. Their rapacity also, the chief source of their reforming spirit, was excited by the prospect of pillaging the secular, as they had already done the regular clergy; and they knew, that, while any share of the old principles remained, or any regard to the ecclesiastics, they never could hope to succeed in their pretensions.

THE numerous and burthensome superstitions, with which the Romish church was loaded, had thrown many of the reformers, by the spirit of opposition, into an enthusiastic strain of devotion; and all rites, ceremonies, pomp, order, and exterior observances were zealously abolished by them, as hindrances of their spiritual contemplation, and obstructions to their immediate converse with heaven. Many circumstances concurred to enflame this daring spirit; the novelty itself of their doctrines, the triumph of making proselytes, the furious persecutions to which they were exposed, their animosity against the antient tenets and practices, and the necessity of procuring the concurrence of the laity, by depressing the hierarchy, and by tendering to them the plunder of the ecclesiastics. Wherever the reformation prevailed over the opposition of civil authority, this genius of religion appeared in its full extent, and was attended with consequences, which, tho' less durable, were, for some time, no less dangerous than those which were connected with the antient superstition. But as the magistrate took the lead in England, the transition was more gradual; much of the antient religion was still preserved; and a reasonable degree of subordination was retained in discipline, as well as some pomp, order, and ceremony in public worship.

THE protector, in his schemes for advancing the reformation, had always recourse to the councils of Cranmer, who, being a man of moderation and prudence, was averse to all violent changes, and was determined to bring over the people, by insensible innovations, to that system of doctrine and discipline, which he esteemed the most pure and perfect. He probably also foresaw, that a system, which carefully avoided the extremes of reformation, was likely to be most lasting; and that a devotion, merely spiritual, was fitted only for the first fervours of a new sect, and upon the relaxation of these naturally gave place to the inroads of superstition. He seems therefore to have intended the establishment of a hierarchy, which, being suited to a great and settled government, might stand as a perpetual barrier against Rome, and might retain the reverence of the people, even after their enthusiastic zeal was diminished or entirely evaporated.

Gardiner's opposition.

THE person, who opposed, with greatest authority, any farther advances towards reformation, was Gardiner, bishop of Winchester; who, tho' he had not obtained a place in the counsel of regency, on account of some late disgusts, which he had given to Henry, was entitled, by his age, experience, and capacity, to the highest trust and confidence of his party. This prelate continued still to magnify the great wisdom and learning of the late King, which were generally and sincerely admired by the nation; and he insisted on the prudence of persevering, at least till the young King's majority, in the ecclesiastical model, established by that great monarch. He defended the use of images, which were now very openly attacked by the protestants; and he represented them as serviceable in maintaining a sense of religion among the illiterate multitude[*]. He even deigned to write an apology for holy water, which bishop Ridley had decried in a sermon; and he maintained, that, by the power of the Almighty, it might be rendered an instrument of doing good; as much as the shadow of St. Peter, the hem of our Saviour's garment, or the spittle and clay laid upon the eyes of the blind[†]. Above all, he insisted, that the laws ought to be observed, that the constitution ought to be preserved inviolate, and that it was dangerous to follow the will of the sovereign, in opposition to an act of parliament[‡].

BUT tho' there remained at that time in England an idea of laws and a constitution, sufficient at least to furnish a topic of argument to such as were discontented with the present exercise of authority; this plea could scarcely, in the present case, be maintained with any plausibility by Gardiner. An act of parliament had invested the crown with a legislative power; and royal proclamations, even during a minority, were armed with the force and authority of laws. The protector, finding himself supported by this statute, was determined to employ his influence in favour of the reformers; and having suspended, during the interval, the authority of the bishops, he appointed a general visitation to be made in all the dioceses of England[*]. The visitors consisted of a mixture of clergy and laity, and had six circuits assigned them. The chief purpose of their instructions was, besides correcting immoralities and irregularities in the clergy, to abolish the antient superstitions, and to bring the discipline and worship somewhat nearer the practice of the reformed churches. The moderation of Somerset and Cranmer is apparent in the conduct of this delicate affair. The visitors were enjoined to retain for the present all images which had not been abused to idolatry; and to instruct the people not to despise such ceremonies as were not yet abrogated, but only to beware of some particular superstitions, such as the sprinkling their beds with holy water, the ringing of bells, or using of blessed candles, in order to drive away the devil[†].

BUT nothing required more the correcting hand of authority, than the abuse of preaching, which was now generally employed, throughout England, in defending the antient practices and superstitions. The court of augmentations, in order to ease the King of the annuities paid to monks, had commonly placed them in the vacant churches; and these men were led by interest, as well as inclination, to support those principles, which had been invented for the profit of the clergy. Orders therefore were given to restrain the topics of their sermons: Twelve homilies were published, which they were enjoined to read to the people: And all of them were prohibited, without express permission, to preach any where but in their parish churches. The design of this injunction was to throw a restraint on the catholic divines; while the protestant, by the grant of particular licences, should be allowed unbounded liberty.

BONNER made some opposition to these measures; but soon after retracted and acquiesced. Gardiner was more high-spirited and more steddy. He represented the peril of perpetual innovations, and the necessity of adhering to some system.
"'Tis a dangerous thing," said he, "to use too much freedom, in researches of this kind. If you cut the old canal, the water is apt to run further than you have a mind to. If you indulge the humour of novelty, you cannot put a stop to people's demands, nor govern their indiscretions at pleasure. For my part," said he, on another occasion, "my sole concern is to manage the third and last act of my life with decency, and to make a handsome exit off the stage. Provided this point is secured, I am not sollicitous about the rest. I am already by nature condemned to death: No man can give me a pardon from this sentence; nor so much as procure me a reprieve. To speak my mind, and to act as my conscience directs, are two branches of liberty, which I can never part with. Sincerity in speech, and integrity in action, are entertaining qualities: They will stick by a man, when every thing else takes its leave; and I must not resign them upon any consideration. The best on it is, if I do not throw them away myself, no man can force them from me: But if I give them up, then am I ruined by myself, and deserve to lose all my preferments[*].
This opposition of Gardiner drew on him the indignation of the council; and he was sent to the Fleet, where he was used with some harshness and severity.

ONE of the chief objections, urged by Gardiner against the new homilies, was that they defined with the most metaphysical precision the doctrine of grace, and of justification by faith; points, he thought, which it was superfluous for any man to know exactly, and which certainly exceeded much the comprehension of the vulgar. A famous martyrologist calls Gardiner, on account of this opinion,
"an insensible ass, and one that had no feeling of God's spirit in the matter of justification[†]."
The meanest protestant imagined at that time, that he had a full comprehension of all those mysterious doctrines, and he heartily despised the most learned and knowing person of the antient religion. It is indeed certain, that the reformers were very fortunate in their doctrine of justification, and might venture to promise on its success, in opposition to all the ceremonies, shows, and superstitions of popery. By exalting Christ and his sufferings, and renouncing all claim to independent merit in ourselves, it was calculated to become popular, and coincided with those principles of panegyric and of self-abasement, which generally have place in religion.

TONSTAL, bishop of Durham, having, as well as Gardiner, made some opposition to the new regulations, was dismissed the council-board; but no farther severity was, for the present, exercised against him. He was a man of perfect moderation, and of the most unexceptionable character in the kingdom.

Foreign affairs.

THE same religious zeal which engaged Somerset to promote the reformation at home, led him to carry his attention to foreign countries; where the interests of the protestants were now exposed to the most imminent danger. The Roman pontiff, with much reluctance and after long delays, had at last summoned a general council, which was assembled at Trent, and was employed in correcting the abuses of the church, and in ascertaining her doctrines. The emperor, who desired to repress the power of the court of Rome, as well as gain over the protestants, promoted the former object of the council; the pope, who found his own greatness so deeply interested, desired rather to employ them in the latter. He gave instructions to his legates, who presided in the council, to protract the debates, and to engage the theologians in altercations, and arguments, and disputes concerning the nice points of faith, canvassed before them: A policy, which was so easy to be executed, that the legates found it rather necessary to interpose, in order to appease the animosity of the divines, and bring them at last to some decision[‡]. The more difficult task for the legates was to moderate or divert the zeal of the council for reformation, and to repress the ambition of the prelates, who desired to exalt the episcopal authority on the ruins of the sovereign pontiff. Finding this humour become intractable, the legates, under pretence that the plague had broke out at Trent, transferred of a sudden the council to Bologna, where, they hoped, it would be more under the direction of his holiness.

THE emperor, no less than the pope, had learned to make religion subservient to his ambition and policy. He was resolved to employ the imputation of heresy as a pretence for subduing the protestant princes, and oppressing the liberties of Germany; but found it requisite to cover his intentions under a deep artifice, and to prevent the combination of his adversaries. He separated the Palatine and the elector of Brandenburgh from the protestant confederacy: He took arms against the elector of Saxony, and the landgrave of Hesse: By the fortune of war he made the former prisoner: He employed treachery and prevarication against the latter, and detained him captive, by breaking a safe-conduct which he had granted him. He seemed to have reached the summit of his ambition; and the German princes, who were astonished with his success, were farther discouraged by the intelligence, which they had received, of the death first of Henry the eighth, then of Francis the first, their usual resources in every calamity[*].

HENRY the second, who succeeded to the crown of France, was a prince of vigour and ability; but less prompt in his resolutions than Francis, and less enflamed with rivalship and animosity against the emperor, Charles. Tho' he sent ambassadors to the princes of the Smalcaldic League, and promised them his protection, he was unwilling, in the commencement of his reign, to hurry into a war against so great a power as that of the emperor, and he thought that the alliance of these princes was a sure resource, which he could at any time lay hold of[†]. He was much governed by the duke of Guise and the cardinal of Lorraine, brothers to the Queen dowager of Scotland, and he hearkened to their counsel, in chusing rather to give immediate assistance to that antient ally, which, even before the death of Henry the eighth, had loudly claimed the protection of the French monarchy.

Progress of the Reformation in Scotland.

THE hatred between the two factions, the partizans of the antient and those of the new religion, became every day more violent in Scotland; and the resolution, which the cardinal primate had taken to employ the most rigorous punishments against the reformers, brought matters to a quick decision. There was one Wishart, a gentleman by birth, who employed himself with great zeal in preaching against the antient superstitions, and began to give alarm to the clergy, who were justly terrified with the danger of some fatal revolution in religion. This man was much celebrated for the purity of his morals, and for his extensive learning: But these praises cannot be much depended on; because, we know, that, among the reformers, severity of manners stood in place of many virtues; and the age was in general so ignorant, that most of the priests in Scotland imagined the New Testament to be a composition of Luther's, and asserted that the Old alone was the word of God[*]. But however the case may have been with regard to those estimable qualities ascribed to Wishart, he was strongly possessed with a desire of innovation; and he enjoyed those talents, which qualified him for becoming a popular preacher, and for seizing the attention and affections of the multitude. The magistrates of Dundee, where he exercised his mission, were alarmed with his progress; and being unable or unwilling to treat him with rigour, they contented themselves with denying him the liberty of preaching, and with dismissing him the bounds of their jurisdiction. Wishart, moved with indignation, that they had dared to reject the word of God, menaced them, in imitation of the antient prophets, with some imminent calamity; and he withdrew to the west country, where he daily increased the number of his proselytes. Meanwhile, a plague broke out in Dundee; and all men exclaimed, that the town had drawn down the vengeance of Heaven by banishing the pious preacher, and that the pestilence would never cease till they had made him attonement for their offence against him. No sooner did Wishart hear of this change in their disposition, than he returned to them, and made them a new tender of his doctrine: But lest he should spread the contagion by bringing multitudes together, he erected his pulpit on the top of a gate: The infected stood within; the others without. And the preacher failed not▪ in such a situation, to take advantage of the immediate terrors of the people, and to enforce his evangelical mission[†].

THE assiduity and success of Wishart became an object of attention to cardinal Beaton; and he resolved, by the punishment of so celebrated a preacher, to strike a terror into all other innovators. He engaged the earl of Bothwel to arrest him in his retirement; and to deliver him into his hands, contrary to a promise given by Bothwel to that unhappy man: And being possessed of his prey, he conducted him to St. Andrew's where, after a trial, he condemned him to the flames for heresy. Arran, the regent, was very irresolute in his temper; and the cardinal, tho' he had gained him to his party, found, that he would not concur in the condemnation and execution of Wishart. He was therefore determined, without the assistance of the secular arm, to bring that heretic to punishment; and he himself beheld from his windows the dismal spectacle▪ Wishart suffered with the usual patience; but could not forbear remarking the triumph of his insulting enemy. He foretold, that in a few days he would in the very same place lie as low, as now he was exalted aloft, in opposition to true piety and religion[‡].

THIS prophesy was probably the immediate cause of the event which it foretold▪
Assassination of cardinal Beaton.

The disciples of this martyr, enraged at the cruel execution, formed a conspiracy against the cardinal; and having associated to them Norman Lesly, who was disgusted on account of some private quarrel, they conducted their enterprize with great secrecy and success. Early in the morning they entered the cardinal's palace, which he had strongly fortified; and though they were not above sixteen persons, they thrust out an hundred tradesmen and fifty servants, whom they seized separately, before any suspicion arose of their intentions; and having shut the gates, they proceeded very deliberately to execute their purpose on the cardinal. That prelate had been alarmed with the noise which he heard in the castle; and had barricadoe'd the door of his chamber: But finding that they had brought fire in order to force their way, and having obtained, as is believed, a promise of life, he opened the door; and reminding them, that he was a priest, be conjured them to spare him. Two of the assassins rushed upon him with drawn swords; but a third, James Melvil, more calm and more considerate in villany, stopped their carreer, and reminded them, that this sacrifice was the work and judgment of God, and ought to be executed with the utmost reflection and gravity. Then turning the point of his sword towards Beaton, he called to him, "Repent thee, thou wicked cardinal, of all thy sins and iniquities, but especially of the murder of Wishart, that instrument of God for the conversion of these lands: It is his death, which now cries vengeance upon thee: We are sent by God to inflict the deserved punishment. For here, before the Almighty, I protest, that it is neither hatred of thy person, nor love of thy riches, nor fear of thy power, which moves me to seek thy death: But only because thou hast been, and still remainest, an obstinate enemy to Christ Jesus, and his holy gospel." Having spoke these words, without giving him leisure to finish that repentance, to which he exhorted him, he thrust him thro' the body; and the cardinal fell dead at his feet[*]. This murther was executed on the 28th of May 1546. The assassins being reinforced by their friends to the number of an hundred and forty persons, prepared themselves for the defence of the castle, and sent a messenger to London, craving assistance from Henry. That prince, tho' Scotland was comprehended in his peace with France, would not reject this opportunity of disturbing the government of that kingdom; and he agreed to take them under his protection.

IT was the peculiar misfortune of Scotland, that five short reigns had been successively followed by as many long minorities; and the execution of justice, which the prince was beginning to introduce, had been continually interrupted by the cabals, factions, and animosities of the great. But besides these inveterate and antient evils, a new source of disorder had arisen, the disputes and contentions of theology, which were sufficient to disturb the most settled government; and the death of the cardinal, who was possessed of ability and vigour, seemed much to weaken the hands of the administration. But the Queen dowager was a woman of uncommon talents and virtues; and she did as much to support the government, and supply the weakness of Arran, the governor, as could be expected in her situation. A stipulation was made with the garrison of St. Andrews, that they should surrender the castle upon receiving a pardon, together with an absolution from the pope; and that they should never afterwards be called in question for Beaton's assassination. Meanwhile, till the pope's absolution should arrive, she applied to France for succours; and Henry sent her some gallies, with a train of artillery, commanded by Strozzi, prior of Capua. Before the siege of St. Andrews was opened, the absolution was sent to the garrison, and they were required to surrender; but because the pope, among other exaggerations of the cardinal's murder, had said, that he pardoned an unpardonable crime, the garrison, fearing that this expression was employed in order to ensnare them, refused to open their gates[†]. They were, however, soon obliged to depart from their obstinacy: A great breach was made in the walls: The plague broke out among them: And seeing no hopes of succour from England, they surrendered to the French upon conditions, which were not very scrupulously observed to them.

Conduct of the war with Scotland.

THE protector of England, so soon as the government was brought to some composure, made preparations for the attack of Scotland; and he was determined to execute, if possible, that project, of uniting the two kingdoms by marriage, on which the late King had been so intent, and which he had recommended with his dying breath to his executors. He raised an army of 18000 men, and equipped a fleet of sixty sail, one half of which were ships of war, the other loaded with provisions and ammunition. He gave the command of the fleet to lord Clinton: He himself marched at the head of the army, attended by the earl of Warwic. These hostile measures were covered with a pretence of revenging some depredations committed by the borderers; but besides, that the protector revived the antient claim of the superiority of the English crown over that of Scotland, he refused to enter into negotiation on any other conditions than the marriage of the young Queen with Edward.

THE protector published a manifesto, in which he inforced all the arguments for that measure. He said, that nature seemed originally to have intended this island for one empire; and having cut it off from all communication with foreign states, and guarded it by the ocean, she had pointed out to the inhabitants the road to happiness and security: That the education and customs of the people concurred with nature; and by giving them the same language, and laws, and manners, had invited them to a thorough union and coalition: That fortune had at last removed all obstacles, and had prepared an expedient, by which they might become one people, without leaving any place for that jealousy either of honour or of interest, to which rival nations are naturally so much exposed: That the crown of Scotland had devolved to a female; that of England to a male; and happily the two sovereigns, as of a rank, so were they also of an age, the most suitable to each other: That the hostile disposition, which prevailed between the nations, and which arose from past injuries, would soon be extinguished, after a long and secure peace had established confidence between them: That the memory of former miseries, which at present enflamed their mutual animosity, would then serve only to make them cherish, with more passion, a state of happiness and tranquillity, so long unknown to their ancestors: That when hostilities had ceased between the kingdoms, the Scotch nobility, who were at present obliged to remain perpetually in a warlike posture, would learn to cultivate the arts of peace, and would soften their minds to a love of domestic order and obedience: That as this situation was desirable to both kingdoms, so particularly to Scotland, which had been exposed to the greatest miseries from intestine and foreign wars, and saw herself every moment in danger of losing her independency, by the efforts of a richer and more powerful people: That tho' England had claims of superiority, she was willing to resign every pretension for the sake of future peace, and desired an union, which would be the more secure, as it would be concluded on terms entirely equal: And that besides all these motives, positive engagements had been taken for the compleating this alliance, and the honour and good faith of the nation were pledged to fulfil what her interest and safety so loudly demanded[*].

SOMERSET soon found, that these remonstrances would have no influence; and that the Queen dowager's attachments to France and to the catholic religion would render ineffectual all negotiations for the intended marriage. He found himself therefore obliged to try the force of arms, and to constrain the Scotch by necessity to submit to a measure, for which they seemed to have entertained the most incurable aversion.
2d September.

He passed the borders at Berwic, and advanced towards Edinburgh, without meeting any resistance for some days, except from some small castles, which were constrained to surrender at discretion. The protector intended to have punished the governor and garrison of one of those castles for their temerity in resisting such unequal force: But they eluded his anger by asking only a few hours respite till they should prepare themselves for death; after which they found his ears more open to their applications for mercy[†].

THE governor of Scotland had summoned together the whole force of the kingdom; and his army, double the number of the English, had taken post on very advantageous ground, guarded by the banks of the Eske, about four miles from Edinburgh. The English came within sight of them at Faside; and after a skirmish between the horse, where the Scotch were worsted, and lord Hume dangerously wounded, Somerset prepared himself for a more decisive action. But having taken a view of the Scotch camp with the earl of Warwic, he found it difficult to make any attempt upon it with a probability of success. He wrote therefore another letter to Arran; and offered to retire out of the kingdom, as well as to repair all damages which he had committed, provided that the Scotch would stipulate not to contract the Queen to any foreign prince, but to keep her at home, till she reached the age of choosing a husband for herself. Such moderate terms were rejected by the Scotch merely on account of their moderation; and begot an opinion, that the protector must either be reduced to great distress or be influenced by fear, that he was now contented to abate so much of his former pretensions. Actuated also by their priests, who had come to the camp in great numbers, they believed, that the English were detestable heretics, abhorred of God, and exposed to divine vengeance; and that no success could ever crown their arms. They were confirmed in this fond conceit, when they saw the protector change his ground, and move towards the sea; nor did they any longer doubt that he intended to embark his army, and make his escape on board the ships, which at that very time moved into the bay, opposite to him[*]. Determined therefore to cut off his retreat, they quitted their camp;
10th September.

and passing the river Eske, advanced into the plain. They were divided into three bodies: Angus commanded the vanguard; Arran the main body; Huntley the rear: Their cavalry consisted only of light horse, which were placed on their left flank, strengthened by some Irish archers, whom Argyle had brought over for this service.

The battle of Pinkey.

SOMERSET was pleased when he saw this movement of the Scotch army; and as the English had usually been superior in pitched battles, he conceived great hopes of success. He arranged his van on his left, farthest from the sea; and ordered them to remain on the high grounds on which he placed them, till the enemy should approach: He placed his main battle and his rear towards the right; and beyond the van he posted lord Gray at the head of the men at arms, and ordered him to take the Scotch van in slank, but not till they should be engaged in close fight with the van of the English.

WHILE the Scotch were advancing on the plain, they were galled with the artillery from the English ships: The master of Graham was killed: The Irish archers were thrown into disorder: and even the other troops began to stagger: When the lord Gray, perceiving their situation, neglected his orders, left his ground, and at the head of his heavy-armed horse made an attack on the Scotch infantry, in hopes of gaining all the honour of the victory. On advancing, he found a slough and ditch in his way; and behind were ranged the Scotch infantry armed with spears, and the field, on which they stood, was fallow ground, broken with ridges, which lay cross their front, and disordered the movements of the English cavalry. From all these accidents, the shock of this body of horse was feeble and irregular; and as they were received on the points of the Scottish spears, which were longer than the lances of the English horsemen, they were in a moment pierced, overthrown, and discomfited. Gray himself was dangerously wounded: Lord Edward Seymour, son to the protector, lost his horse: The standard was near being taken: And had the Scotch possessed any good body of cavalry, who might have pursued the advantage, the whole English army had been exposed to great danger[*].

THE protector mean-while, assisted by Sir Ralph Sadler and Sir Ralph Vane, employed himself with diligence and success, in rallying the cavalry. Warwic showed great presence of mind in maintaining the ranks of the foot, on which the horse had recoiled: He made Sir Peter Meutas advance, captain of the foot hackbutters, and Sir Peter Gamboa, captain of some Italian and Spanish hackbutters, on horseback; and ordered them to ply the Scotch infantry with their shot. They marched to the slough, and discharged their pieces full in the face of the enemy: The ships galled them from the flank: The artillery, planted on a height, infested them from the front: The English archers poured in a shower of arrows upon them: And the vanguard, descending from the hill, advanced, leisurely and orderly, towards them. Dismayed with all these circumstances, the Scotch van began to retreat: The retreat soon changed into a flight; which was begun by the Irish archers. The panic of the van communicated itself to the main body, and passing thence to the rear, rendered the whole field a scene of confusion, terror, flight and consternation. The English army perceived from the heights the condition of the Scotch, and began the pursuit with loud shouts and acclamations, which added still more to the dismay of the vanquished. The horse in particular, eager to revenge the affront, which they had received in the beginning of the day, committed the most bloody execution on the flying enemy; and from the field of battle to Edinburgh, for the space of five miles, the whole ground was strowed with dead bodies. The priests above all, and the monks received no quarter; and the English made sport of slaughtering men, who, from their extreme zeal and animosity, had engaged in an enterprize so ill suited to their profession. Few victories have been more decisive, or gained with smaller loss to the conquerors. There fell not two hundred of the English; and according to the most moderate computation, there perished above ten thousand of the Scotch. About fifteen hundred were taken prisoners. This action was called the Battle of Pinkey, from a nobleman's seat of that name in the neighbourhood.

THE Queen dowager and Arran fled to Stirling, and were scarce able to collect such a body of forces as could check the incursions of small parties of the English. About the same time, the earl of Lenox and lord Wharton entered the West Marches, at the head of five thousand men, and after taking and plundering Annan, they spread devastation over all the neighbouring counties[*]. Had Somerset prosecuted his advantage, he might have imposed what terms he pleased on the Scotch nation: But he was impatient to return to England, where he heard, some counsellors, and even his own brother, the admiral, were carrying on cabals against his authority. Having taken the castles of Hume, Dunglass, Eymouth, Fastcastle, Roxborough, and some other small places; and having received the submission of some counties on the borders, he retired out of Scotland. The fleet, besides destroying all the ships along the coast, took Broughty in the Firth of Tay, and having fortified it, they left there a garrison. Arran desired leave to send commissioners in order to treat of a peace; and Somerset, having appointed Berwic for the place of meeting, left Warwic with full powers to negociate: But no commissioners from Scotland ever appeared. The overture of the Scotch was an artifice, to gain time, till succours should arrive from France.

4 Novemb.

THE protector, on his arrival in England, summoned a Parliament: And being somewhat elated with his success against the Scotch, he procured a patent, appointing him to sit on the throne, upon a stool or bench at the right hand of the King, and to enjoy the same honours and privileges which had usually been possessed by any princes of the blood, or uncles of the Kings of England. In this patent, the King dispensed with the statute of precedency, enacted during the former reign[†].
A Parliament.

But if Somerset gave offence by assuming too much state, he deserves the highest praise on account of the laws passed this session, by which the rigour of former statutes was much mitigated, and some security given to the freedom of the constitution. All laws were repealed which extended the crime of treason beyond the statute of the twenty eighth of Edward the third[‡]; all laws enacted during the late reign, extending the crime of felony; all the former laws against Lollardies or heresy, together with the statute of the six articles. None were to be accused of words but within a month after they were spoken. By these repeals several of the most rigorous laws that ever were passed in England, were annulled, and some dawnings, both of civil and religious liberty, began to appear to the people. Heresy, however, was still a capital crime by the common law, and was subjected to the penalty of burning. There only remained no precise standard by which that crime could be defined or determined: A circumstance which might either be advantageous or hurtful to public security, according to the disposition of the judges.

A REPEAL also passed of that law, the destruction of all laws, by which the King's proclamation was made of equal force with a statute‖. That other law was likewise mitigated, by which the King was empowered to annul all laws passed before the four and twentieth year of his age: He could prevent their future execution; but could not recall any past effects, which had ensued from them[§].

SOME statutes too were passed which were of the utmost importance, because they promoted the principles and practices of the reformers, tho' they may not, all of them, appear to be attended with any material consequences to civil society. The cup was restored to the laity; private masses were abolished; the King was empowered to create bishops by letters patent, without any sham election of the chapter; the bishops were ordered to issue their writs, and hold their courts in the King's name[*]; vagabonds were adjudged to be slaves for two years, and to be marked with a red-hot iron[‡]; an act commonly supposed to be levelled against the strolling priests and friars.

THE chantries and free chappels had been given by act of parliament to the late King; and he had appointed commissioners to take possession of the revenues; but as they had not proceeded far in the execution of their office, it was found necessary to make a renewal of the grant. The preamble to the statute promises, that these funds should be employed to good and godly uses, in erecting grammar schools, in farther augmenting the universities, and in making better provision for the poor and needy[†]. But the rapacious courtiers had already devoured the prey in their imaginations; and it was not long before it was shared out among them.

IT was also enacted, that all who denied the King's supremacy, or asserted the pope's, should, for the first offence, forfeit their goods and chattels, and suffer imprisonment during pleasure; for the second offence, should incur the pain of praemunire; and for the third offence be attainted of treason. But if any, after the first of March next, endeavoured, by writing, printing, or any overt act or deed, to deprive the King of his estate or titles, particularly of his supremacy, or to confer them on any other, he was to be adjudged guilty of treason. If any of the heirs of the crown should usurp upon another, or endeavour to break the order of succession, it was declared treason in them, their aiders and abetters. These were the most considerable acts passed during this session. The members discovered a very passive disposition with regard to religion: Some few appeared zealous for the reformation: Others harboured secretly a strong inclination to the catholic faith: But the greatest part appeared willing to take any impression which they should receive from interest, authority, or the reigning fashion[‡].

THE convocation met at the same time with the Parliament; and as it appeared, that their debates were at first cramped by the rigour of the statute of the six articles, the King granted them a dispensation from that law, before it was repealed by Parliament‖. The lower house of convocation applied to have liberty of sitting with the commons in Parliament; or if this privilege was refused them, which they claimed as their ancient right, they desired that no law regarding religion, might pass in Parliament without their consent and approbation. But the principles which now prevailed, were more advantageous to the civil than the ecclesiastical power; and tho' there is reason to think, that the lower clergy sent, during some time, representatives to the house of commons[*]; yet that practice had been abolished for above two centuries; and the present juncture was very little favourable for attempting to revive it.

THE protector had permitted the repeal of that law, which gave to the King's proclamations the authority of statutes; but he did not intend to renounce that arbitrary or discretionary exercise of power, which had ever been assumed by the crown, and which it is difficult to distinguish exactly from the power of making laws. He even continued to exert this authority in some particulars, which were regarded as the most momentuous.
Farther progress of the reformation.

Orders were issued by council, that candles should no longer be carried about on Candlemas-day, ashes on Ash-wednesday, palmes on Palm-sunday[†]. These were ancient religious practices, now denominated superstitions; tho' it is very fortunate for mankind, when superstition happens to take a direction so innocent and inoffensive. The severe disposition which naturally attends all reformers, prompted likewise the council to abolish some gay and showy ceremonies, which belonged to the ancient religion[‡].

AN order was also issued by the council for the removal of all images from the churches: An innovation which was much desired by all the reformers, and which alone, with regard to the populace, amounted almost to a total change of the established religion‖. An attempt had been made to separate the use of images from their abuse, the reverence from the worship of them; but the execution of this design was found, upon trial, very difficult, if not wholly impracticable.

AS private masses were abolished by law, it became necessary to frame a new communion-office; and the council went so far, in the preface which they had prefixed to this work, as to leave the practice of auricular confession wholly indifferent[§]. This was a prelude to the entire abolition of that invention, one of the most powerful engines that ever was contrived for degrading the laity, and giving their spiritual guides an entire ascendant over them. And it may justly be said, that tho' the priest's absolution, which attends confession, serves somewhat to ease weak minds from the immediate agonies of superstitious terror, it operates only by strongly enforcing superstition itself, and thereby preparing the mind for a more violent relapse into the same disorders.

THE people were at that time extremely distracted, by the opposite opinions of their preachers; and as they were totally incapable to judge of the reasons advanced on either side, and naturally regarded every thing which they heard at church, as of equal authority, a great confusion and fluctuation resulted from this uncertainty. The council first endeavoured to remedy that inconvenience, by laying some restraints on preaching; but finding this expedient ineffectual, they imposed a total silence on the preachers, and thus put an end at once to all the polemics of the pulpit[*]. By the nature of things, this restraint could only be temporary. For in proportion as the ceremonies of public worship, its shows and exterior observances, were retrenched by the reformers, the people were inclined to contract a stronger attachment to sermons, whence alone they received any occupation or amusement. The ancient religion, by giving its votaries something to do, freed them from the trouble of knowing: Sermons were only delivered in the principal churches, and at some particular fasts and festivals: And the practice of haranguing the populace, which, if abused, is so powerful an incitement to faction and sedition, had much less scope and influence during those ages.

Affair of Scotland.

THE greater progress was made towards a reformation in England, the further did the protector find himself from all prospect of compleating the union with Scotland; and the Queen-dowager, as well as the clergy, became the more averse to all alliance with a nation which had departed so far from all ancient principles. Somerset, having taken the town of Haddington, had ordered it to be strongly garrisoned and fortified, by lord Gray: He also erected some sortifications at Lauder: And he hoped, that these two places, together with Broughty and some smaller for•resses, which were in the hands of the English, would serve as a curb to Scotland; and would give him access into the heart of the country.

ARRAN, being disappointed in some attempts on Broughty, relied chiefly on the suceours expected from France, for the recovery of these places; and they arrived at last in the Firth, to the number of six thousand men; one half of whom were Germans. They were commanded by Dessé, and under him by Andelot, Strozzi, Meilleraye, count Rhingrave. The Scotch were at that time so sunk by their misfortunes, that five hundred English horse were able to ravage the whole country without resistance; and make inroads to the gates of the capital[†]: But on the appearance of the French succours, they collected more courage; and having joined Dessé with a considerable reinforcement, they laid siege to Haddington[‡]. This was an undertaking for which they were themselves totally unfit; being only practised in a kind of desultory war, where they served without pay, and with a few weeks provisions, which they brought along with them. Even with the assistance of the French, they placed their chief hopes of success in starving the garrison; and after some vain attempts to take the place by a regular •iege, the blockade of Haddington was formed. The garrison were repulsed with loss in several sallies which they made upon the besiegers.

THE hostile attempts which the late King and the protector had made against Scotland, not being steedy, regular, nor pushed to the last extremity, had served only to irritate the nation, and to inspire them with the strongest aversion to that confederacy which was courted in so violent a manner. Even those who were inclined to the English alliance, were displeased to have it imposed on them by force of arms; and the earl of Huntley in particular, said pleasantly, that he disliked not the match, but he hated the manner of wooing‖. The Queendowager, finding these sentiments to prevail, called a Parliament, in an abbey near Haddington; and it was there proposed, that the young Queen, for her greater security, should be sent to France, and be committed to the protection of that ancient ally. Some objected, that this measure was desperate, allowed no resource in case of miscarriage, exposed the Scotch to be subjected by foreigners, involved them in perpetual war with England, and left them no expedient by which they could conciliate the friendship of that powerful nation. It was answered, on the other hand, that the Queen's presence was the very cause of war with England; that that nation would desist when they found that their views of forcing a marriage had become altogether impracticable; and that Henry, being engaged by so high a mark of confidence, would take their sovereign under his guardianship, and use his utmost efforts to defend the kingdom. These arguments were aided by French gold, which was plentifully distributed among the nobles. The governor had a pension conferred on him of twelve thousand livres a year, received the title of duke of Chatelrault, and obtained for his son the command of an hundred men at arms[*]. And as all the clergy dreaded the consequences of the English alliance, they seconded this measure with all the zeal and industry which either principles or interest could inspire.
Young Queen of Scots sent into France.

It was accordingly determined to send the Queen to France; and what was understood to be the necessary consequence, to marry her to the dauphin. Villegaignon, commander of four French gallies lying in the Firth of Forth, set sail as if he intended to return home; but when he reached the open sea, he turned northwards, passed by the Orkneys, and came in on the west coast at Dunbarton: A very extraordinary voyage for ships of that fabric[†]. The young Queen was there committed to him; and being attended with the lords Areskine and Livingstone, she put to sea, and after meeting with some tempe•tuous weather, arrived safely at Brest, whence she was conducted to Paris, and soon after she was betrothed to the dauphin.

SOMERSET, pressed by many difficulties at home, and despairing of success in his enterprize against Scotland, was desirous of composing the differences with that kingdom, and he offered the Scotch a ten years truce; but as they insisted on his restoring all the places which he had taken, the proposal came to nothing. The Scotch took the fortresses of Hume and Fast-castle, by surprize, and put the garrison to the sword: They repulsed, with loss, the English, who, under the command of lord Seymour, made a descent, first in Fife, and then at Montrose: In the former action, James Stuart, natural brother to the Queen, acquired great honour; in the second action, Areskine of Dun. An attempt was made by Sir Robert Bowes and Sir Thomas Palmer, at the head of a considerable body, to throw relief into Haddington; but these troops falling into an ambuscade, were almost wholly cut in pieces[‡]. And tho' a small body of two hundred men escaped all the vigilance of the French, and arrived safely in Haddington, with some ammunition and provisions, the garrison was reduced to such difficulties, that the protector found it necessary to provide more effectually for their relief. He raised an army of eighteen thousand men, and adding three thousand Germans, who, on the dissolution of the protestant alliance, had offered their service to England, he gave the command of the whole to the earl of Shrewsbury‖. D'Essé raised the siege on the approach of the English; and with great difficulty made good his retreat to Edinburgh, where he posted himself advantageously. Shrewsbury, who had lost the opportunity of attacking him on his march, durst not give him battle in his present situation; and contenting himself with the advantage already gained of supplying Haddington, he retired into England.

DURING the abode of the French troops many complaints had arisen between them and the Scotch; and a small accident[*]having excited a tumult in Edinburgh, the provost and his son were unfortunately killed by the French soldiers. This event increased the animosity between the two nations: But D'Esse, in order to make atonement for that act of violence, led his troops hastily to Haddington, and in the night-time attempted to surprize the town. He found the garrison unprepared to resist him; and had already entered the outer court: But a French deserter firing a cannon, which pointed towards the gates, the shot fell among the thickest of the enemy, and made such havoc as threw the whole into confusion, and enabled the English to repulse them. It is pretended, that no less than a hundred persons fell by this single shot.

THE French general was a man of ability and experience; but as he had not the good fortune to be acceptable to the Scotch nation, it was thought proper to recall him, and to send over De Thermes in his place. D'Essé, before his departure, fortified Leith, which, from a small village, soon became a considerable town, by the concourse of inhabitants, who found there a security, which they could no where else enjoy in Scotland. He also attacked an English garrison in Inch-keith, an island opposite to that harbour, and made them prisoners. After these exploits, he resigned his command to De Thermes, who brought over with him Monluc, bishop of Valence, a man celebrated for wisdom and capacity. This prelate was named chancellor of the kingdom; and it was probably intended, by his means, to inspire the nation with some greater attachment to the principles of law and equity: But the Scotch, impatient of restraint, and jealous of a foreigner, expressed such discontent, that it was thought more prudent soon after to recall him[†].

THO' the protection of France was of great consequence to the Scotch, in supporting them against the invasions of England, they reaped still more benefit from the distractions and divisions which had crept into the councils of that latter kingdom. Even the two brothers, the protector and admiral, not contented with the high stations which they severally enjoyed, and the great eminence to which they had risen, had entertained the most violent jealousy of each other's authority;
Cabals of lord Seymour.

and they divided the whole court and kingdom, by their opposite cabals and pretensions. Lord Seymour was a man of insatiable ambition, arrogant, assuming, implacable; and tho' esteemed of superior capacity to the protector, he possessed not to the same degree the confidence and regard of the people. By his flattery and address, he had so insinuated himself into the good graces of the Queendowager, that, forgetting her usual prudence and decency, she married him immediately upon the decease of the late King: Insomuch, that, had she soon proved pregnant, it might have been doubtful to which husband the child belonged. The credit and riches of this alliance supported the ambition of the admiral; but gave umbrage to the dutchess of Somerset, who, uneasy that the younger brother's wife should have the precedency, employed all her interest with her husband, which was too great, first to create, and then to widen a breach between the two brothers[‡].

THE first symptoms of this misunderstanding appeared when the protector commanded the army in Scotland. The secretary, Paget, a man entirely devoted to Somerset, remarked, that Seymour was forming separate intrigues among the counsellors; was corrupting, by presents, the King's servants; and even endeavouring, by improper indulgencies and liberalities, to captivate the affections of the young monarch. Paget represented to him the danger of this conduct; desired him to reflect on the numerous enemies whom the sudden elevation of their family had created; and warned him that any dissension between him and the protector, would be greedily laid hold of, to draw on the ruin of both. Finding his remonstrances ineffectual, he conveyed intelligence of the danger to Somerset, and engaged him to leave the enterprize against Scotland unfinished, in order to guard against the attempts of his domestic enemies. In the ensuing Parliament, the admiral's projects appeared still more hazardous to public tranquillity; and as he had acquired many partizans and retainers, he made a direct attack upon his brother's authority. He represented to his friends, that formerly, during a minority, the office of protector of the kingdom had been kept separate from that of governor of the king's person; and that the present union of these two important trusts, conserred on Somerset an authority which could not safely be lodged in any subject‖. He even prevailed on the young King, to write a letter to the Parliament, desiring that Seymour might be appointed his governor; and he had formed a party in the two houses, by which he hoped to have effected his purpose. The design was discovered before its execution; and some common friends were sent to remonstrate with him, but had so little influence, that he threw out many menacing expressions, and rashly threatened, that, if he was thwarted in his attempt, he would make this Parliament the blackest that ever was in England[*]. The council sent for him, to answer for his conduct; but he refused to attend: They then began to threaten in their turn, and informed him, that the King's letter, instead of availing him any thing to the execution of his purpose, would be imputed to him as a criminal enterprize, and be construed a design to disturb the government, by forming a separate interest with a child and minor. They even let fall some menaces of sending him to the Tower for his temerity; and the admiral finding himself prevented in his design, was obliged to submit, and to desire a reconcilement with his brother.

THE mild and moderate temper of Somerset made him willing to forget these enterprizes of the admiral; but the ambition of that turbulent spirit could not be so easily appeased. His spouse, the Queen-dowager, died in child-bed; but so far from regarding this event as a check to his aspiring views, he founded on it the scheme of a more extraordinary elevation. He made his addresses to the lady Elizabeth, then in the sixteenth year of her age; and that princess, whom even the hurry of business, and the pursuits of ambition, could not, in her more advanced years, disengage entirely from the tender passions, seems to have listened to the insinuations of a man who possessed every talent proper to captivate the affections of the fair[†]. But as Henry the eighth had excluded his daughters from all hopes of succession, if they married without the consent of his executors, which Seymour could never hope to obtain; it was concluded, that he proposed to effectuate his purpose by expedients still more rash and more criminal. All the other measures of the admiral tended to confirm this suspicion. He continued to attack, by presents, the fidelity of all those who had more immediate access to the King's person: He endeavoured to seduce that young prince into his interest: He found means of holding a private correspondence with him: He publicly decried his brother's administration; and asserted, that by enlisting Germans, and other foreigners, he intended to form a mercenary army, which endangered the King's aughority, and the liberty of the people: By promises and persuasion he brought over to his party many of the principal nobility; and had distributed his interest all over England: He neglected not even the most popular persons of inferior rank; and had computed, that he could, on occasion, command the service of ten thousand men, among his servants, tenants, and retainers[‡]: He had already provided arms for their use; and having engaged in his interests Sir John Sharington, a very corrupt man, master of the mint at Bristol, he flattered himself that money would not be wanting. Somerset was well informed of all these alarming circumstances, and endeavoured by the most friendly expedients, by intreaty, reason, and even by heaping new favours upon him, to make him depart from his precipitant councils: But finding all his endeavours ineffectual, he began to think of more severe remedies. The earl of Warwic was an ill instrument between the brothers; and had formed the design, by inflaming the quarrel, to raise his own fortune on both their ruins.

Dudley, earl of Warwic.

DUDLEY, earl of Warwic, was the son of that Dudley, minister to Henry the seventh, who having, by rapine, extortion, and perversion of law, incurred the hatred of the public, had been sacrificed to popular animosity, in the beginning of the subsequent reign. The late King, sensible of the iniquity, at least illegality of the sentence, had afterwards restored young Dudley's blood by act of parliament; and finding him endowed with ability, industry, and enterprize, he had entrusted him with many important commands, and had ever found him successful in all his undertakings. He raised him to the dignity of viscount Lisle, conferred on him the office of admiral, and gave him by his will a place among his executors. Dudley made still farther progress during the minority; and having obtained the title of earl of Warwic, and undermined the credit of Southampton, he bore the first rank among the protector's counsellors. The victory, gained at Pinkey, was much ascribed to his courage and conduct; and he was universally regarded as a man equally endowed with the talents of peace and war. But all these virtues were obscured by still greater vices; an exorbitant ambition, an insatiable avarice, a neglect of decency, a contempt of justice: And as he found, that lord Seymour, whose ability and enterprize he chiefly dreaded, was involving himself in ruin, by his rash councils, he was determined to push him to the precipice; and thereby remove the chief obstacle to his own projected greatness.

WHEN Somerset found that the public peace was exposed by his brother's seditious, if not rebellious, schemes, he was the more easily persuaded, by Warwic, to employ the extent of royal authority against him; and after depriving him of the office of admiral, he signed a warrant for committing him to the Tower. Some of his accomplices were also taken into custody; and three privy counsellors, being sent to examine them, made a report, that they had met with very full and important discoveries. Yet still the protector suspended the blow, and showed a reluctance to ruin his brother. He offered to depart from the prosecution, if Seymour would promise him a cordial reconcilement; and relinquishing all ambitious hopes, be contented with a private life, and retire into the country. But as Seymour made no other answer to these friendly offers than menaces and defiances, he ordered a charge to be drawn up against him, consisting of thirty-three articles‖; and the whole to be laid before the privy-council. It is pretended, that every particular was so incontestibly proved, both by witnesses and his own hand-writing, that there was no room for doubt; yet did the council think proper to go in a body to the Tower, in order more fully to examine the prisoner. He was not daunted by the appearance; but boldly demanded a fair trial; required to be confronted with the witnesses; desired that the charge might be left with him, in order to be considered; and refused to answer any interrogatories, by which he might ensnare himself.

IT is apparent, that notwithstanding what is pretended, there must have been some deficiency in the evidence against Seymour, when such demands, founded on the plainest principles of law and equity, were absolutely rejected. We shall indeed conclude, if we carefully examine the charge, that many of the articles were general, and scarce capable of any proof; many of them, if true, susceptible of a more favourable interpretation; and that, tho' on the whole, Seymour appears to have been a very dangerous subject, yet he had not advanced far in those treasonable projects imputed to him. The chief part of his guilt seems to have consisted in some unwarrantable practices in the admiralty, by which pyrates were protected, and illegal impositions laid upon the merchants.

BUT the administration had, at that time, an easy instrument of vengeance, to wit, the Parliament; and needed not give themselves any concern with regard either to the guilt of the persons whom they prosecuted, or the evidence which could be produced against them.
A Parliament.

4 November.

A session of Parliament being held, it was proposed to proceed against Seymour by bill of attainder; and much persuasion being employed to engage the young King to consent to it, a considerable weight was put on his approbation. The matter was first laid before the upper house; and several peers, rising up in their places, gave an account of what they knew concerning lord Seymour's conduct, and his criminal words or actions.
Attainder of lord Seymour.

These narratives were received for undoubted evidence; and tho' the prisoner had formerly engaged many friends and partizans among the nobility, no one had either the courage or equity to move, that he might be heard in his own defence, that the testimony against him should be delivered in a legal manner, and that he should be confronted with the witnesses. A little more scruple was made in the house of commons: There were even some members who objected against the whole method of proceeding by bills of attainder, passed in absence; and required, that a formal trial should be given to every man before his condemnation.
20th March.

His execution.

But upon receiving a message from the King, requiring them to proceed, and offering that the same narratives should be laid before them which had satisfied the peers, they were easily prevailed on to acquiesce[*]. The bill passed in a very full house. Near four hundred voted for it; and not above nine or ten against it[†]. The sentence was soon after executed, and the prisoner was beheaded on Towerhill. The warrant was signed by Somerset, who was exposed to much blame, on account of the violence of these proceedings. The attempts of the admiral seemed chiefly to be levelled against his brother's usurped authority; and tho' his ambitious, enterprizing character, encouraged by a marriage with the lady Elizabeth, might have proved dangerous to public tranquillity, the prudence of foreseeing dangers at such a distance, was esteemed too great, and the remedy was plainly illegal. It could only be said, that this bill of attainder was somewhat more tolerable than the preceding ones, to which the nation had been accustomed. For here, at least, some shadow of evidence was produced.

Ecclesiastical affairs.

ALL the other considerable business transacted this session, besides the attainder of lord Seymour, regarded ecclesiastical matters; which were now the chief concern of the nation. A committee of bishops and divines had been appointed by the council, to frame a liturgy for the service of the church; and they had executed the work committed to them. They proceeded with great moderation in this delicate undertaking: They retained as much of the ancient mass as the principles of the reformers would permit: They indulged nothing to the spirit of contradiction, which so naturally takes place in all great innovations: And they •lattered themselves, that they had framed a service, in which every denomination of Christians might, without scruple, concur. The mass had been always celebrated in Latin; a practice which might have been esteemed absurd, had it not been found useful to the clergy, by impressing the people with an idea of some mysterious unknown virtue in those rites, and by checking all their pretensions to be familiarly acquainted with their religion. But as the reformers pretended in some few particulars to encourage private judgment in the ••ity, the translation of the liturgy, as well as of the scriptures, into the vulgar tongue, seemed more conformable to the genius of their sect; and this innovation, with the retrenchment of prayers to saints, and of some superstitious ceremonies, was the chief difference between the old mass and the new liturgy. The Parliament established this form of worship in all the churches, and ordered an uniformity to be observed in all the rites and ceremonies[†].

THERE was another very material act, which passed this session. The former canons had established the celibacy of the clergy; and though this practice be usually ascribed to the policy of the court of Rome, who thought, that the ecclesiastics would be more devoted to their spiritual head, and less dependant on the civil magistrate, when freed from the powerful tyes of wives and children; yet was this institution much forwarded by the principles of superstition inherent in human nature. These principles had rendered the panegyrics of an inviolate chastity so frequent among the antient fathers, long before the establishment of celibacy. And even the English parliament, though they framed a law, permitting the marriages of priests, yet confess, in the preamble, "that it were better for priests and the ministers of the church to live chaste and without marriage, and it were much to be wished they would of themselves abstain." The inconveniences, which had arisen from compelling chastity and prohibiting marriage, are the reason assigned for indulging a liberty in this particular[‡]. The ideas of pennance also were so much retained in other particulars, that an act of parliament passed, prohibiting the use of flesh, during Lent and the other times of abstinence[*].

THE principal tenets and practices of the catholic religion were now abolished, and the reformation, such as we enjoy it at present, was almost entirely compleated in England. But the doctrine of the real presence, though tacitly condemned by the new communion-service and by the prohibition of many antient rites, still retained some hold of the minds of men; and it was the last doctrine of popery, which was wholly abandoned by the people[†]. The extreme attachment of the late King to that tenet might be some ground for this obstinacy; but the chief cause was really the extreme absurdity of the principle itself, and the profound veneration, which of course it impressed on the understanding. The priests likewise were much inclined to favour an opinion, which attributed to them so miraculous a power; and the people, who believed that they participated of the very body and blood of their Saviour, were loth to renounce so extraordinary, and as they imagined, so salutary a privilege. The general attachment to this dogma was so violent, that the Lutherans, notwithstanding their separation from Rome, had thought proper, under another name, still to retain it: And the catholic preachers, in England, when restrained in every other particular, could not forbear, on every occasion, from inculcating that tenet. Bonner, for this offence among others, had been tried by the council, had been deprived of his see, and had been committed to custody. Gardiner also, who had recovered his liberty, appeared anew refractory to the authority, which established the late innovations; and he seemed willing to countenance that opinion, much favoured by all the English catholics, that the King was indeed supreme head of the church, but not the council, during a minority. Having declined giving full satisfaction on this head, he was sent to the Tower, and threatened with farther effects of the council's displeasure.

THESE severities, being exercised against men, possessed of office and authority, seemed a necessary policy, in order to inforce an uniformity in public worship and discipline: But there were other instances of persecution, which were derived from no other origin than the bigotry of theologians; a malady, which seems almost incurable. Tho' the protestant divines had ventured to renounce opinions, deemed certain during so many centuries, they regarded, in their turn, the new system as so certain, that they could bear no contradiction with regard to it; and they were ready to burn in the same flames, from which they themselves had so narrowly escaped, every one who had the assurance to oppose them. A commission by act of council was granted to the primate and some others, to examine and search after all anabaptists, heretics, or contemners of the book of common prayer[*]. They were enjoined to reclaim them, if possible; to impose pennance on them; and to give them absolution: Or if they were obstinate, to excommunicate and imprison them, and to deliver them over to the secular arm: And in the execution of this charge, the commissioners were not bound to observe the ordinary methods of trial; the forms of law were dispensed with, and if any statutes happened to interfere with the powers in the commission, they were over-ruled and abrogated by the council. Some tradesmen in London were brought before these commissioners, and were accused of maintaining, among other opinions, that a man regenerate could not sin, and that though the outward man might offend, the inward was incapable of all guilt. They were prevailed on to abjure and were dismissed. But there was a woman accused of heretical pravity, called Joan Bocher, or Joan of Kent, who was so extremely obstinate, that the commissioners could gain nothing upon her. Her doctrine was,
"that Christ was not truly incarnate of the virgin, whose flesh, being the outward man, was sinfully begotten and born in sin; and consequently, he could take none of it: But the word, by the consent of the inward man of the virgin, was made flesh[†]."
This opinion, it would seem, is not orthodox; and there was a necessity for delivering the woman to the flames for maintaining it. But the young King, tho' in such tender years, had more sense than all his counsellors and preceptors; and he long refused to sign the warrant for her execution. Cranmer was employed to perswade him to compliance; and he said, that there was a great difference between errors in other points of divinity, and those which were directly contradictory to the Apostles creed: Th•se latter were impieties against God, which the prince, being God's deputy, ought to repress; in like manner, as the King's deputies were bound to punish offences against the King's person. Edward, overcome by importunity more than reason, at last submitted, tho' with tears in his eyes; and he told Cranmer, that, if any wrong was done, the guilt should lie entirely on his head. The primate, after making a new effort to reclaim the woman from her errors, and finding her obstinate against all his arguments, at last committed her to the flames. Some time after, a Dutchman, called Van Paris, accused of the heresy which has received the name of Arianism, was condemned to the same punishment. He suffered with so much satisfaction, that he hugged and caressed the faggots, which were consuming him; a species of frenzy of which there is more than one instance among the martyrs of this age[*].

THESE rigorous methods of proceeding soon brought the whole nation to a conformity with the new doctrine and the new liturgy. The lady Mary alone continued to adhere to the mass, and refused to admit the established modes of worship. When pressed and menaced on this head, she applied to the emperor; who, using his interest with Sir Philip Hobbey, the English ambassador, procured her a temporary connivance from the council[†].

CHAP. II.

Discontents of the people.—Insurrections.—Conduct of the war with Scotland—with France.—Factions in the council.—Conspiracy against Somerset.—Somerset resigns the protectorship.—A Parliament.—Peace with France and Scotland.—Boulogne surrendered.—Persecution of Gardiner.—Warwic created duke of Northumberland.—His ambition.—Trial of Somerset.—His execution.—A Parliament.—A new Parliament.—Succession changed.—The King's sickness—and death.

Discontents of the people.

THERE is no abuse so great, in civil society, as not to be attended with a great variety of beneficial consequences; and in the beginnings of reformation, the loss of these advantages is always felt very sensibly, while the benefit, resulting from the change, is the slow effect of time, and is seldom perceived by the bulk of a nation. Scarce any institution can be imagined less favourable, in the main, to the interests of mankind than that of monks and friars; yet was it followed by many good effects, which, having ceased by the suppression of monasteries, were very much regreted by the people of England. The monks, residing always in their convents, in the heart of their estates, spent their money in the provinces and among their tenants, afforded a ready market for commodities, were a sure resource to the poor and indigent; and though their hospitality and charity gave but too much encouragement to idleness, and prevented the encrease of public riches, yet did it provide to many a remedy against the extreme pressures of want and necessity. It is also observable, that, as the friars were limited by the rules of their institution, to a certain train of life, they had not equal motives for avarice with other men; and they were acknowledged to have been in England, as they still are in Roman catholic countries, the best and most indulgent landlords. The abbots and priors were allowed to give leases at an under-value, and to receive, in return, a large present from the tenant; in the same manner as is still practised by the bishops and colleges. But when the abbey-lands were distributed among the great nobility and courtiers, they fell under a different management: The rents of farms were raised, while the tenants found not the same facility in disposing of the produce; the money was spent in the capital; and the farmers, living at a distance, were exposed to all the oppressions of their new masters, or to the still greater rapacity of the stewards.

THESE complaints of the common people were at that time heightened by other causes. The arts of manufacture were much more advanced in other European countries than in England; and even in England these arts had made greater progress than the knowledge of agriculture; a profession, which of all mechanical employments, requires the most reflection and experience. A great demand arose for wool both abroad and at home: Pasturage was found more profitable than unskilful tillage: Whole estates were laid waste by inclosures: The tenants, regarded as a useless burthen, were expelled their habitations: Even the cottagers, deprived of the commons, on which they fed their cattle, were reduced to misery: And a great decay of people, as well as diminution of the former plenty, was remarked in the kingdom[*]. This grievance was now of an old date; and Sir Thomas More, alluding to it, observes in his Utopia, that a sheep had become in England a more rapacious animal than a lion or wolf, and devoured whole villages, cities, and provinces.

THE general encrease also of gold and silver in Europe, after the discovery of the West Indies, had a tendency to inflame these complaints. The growing demand, in the more commercial countries, had heightened every where the price of commodities, which could easily be transported thither; but in England, the labour of men, who could not so easily change their habitation, still remained nearly at the antient rates; and the poor people complained that they could no longer gain a subsistence by their industry. It was by an addition alone of toil and application they were enabled to provide a maintenance; and tho' this encrease of industry was at last the effect of the present situation, and an effect very beneficial to society, yet was it difficult for the people to shake off their former habits of indolence; and nothing but necessity could compel them to that exertion of their faculties.

IT must also be remarked, that the profusion of Henry the eighth, had reduced him, notwithstanding his rapacity, to such difficulties, that he had been obliged to remedy a present necessity, by the pernicious expedient of debasing the coin; and the wars, in which the protector had been involved, had induced him to carry still farther the same abuse. The usual consequences ensued: The good coin was hoarded or exported; base metal was coined at home or imported from abroad in great abudance; the common people, who received their wages in it, could not purchase commodities at the usual rates; an universal diffidence and stagnation of commerce took place; and loud complaints were heard in every part of England.

THE protector, who loved popularity, and compassionated the condition of the people, encouraged these complaints by his endeavours to remedy them. He appointed a commission for making enquiry concerning inclosures; and issued a proclamation, ordering all late inclosures to be laid open by a day assigned. The populace, meeting with such countenance from the government, began to rise in several places, and to commit disorders; but were quieted by remonstrances and persuasion. In order to give them greater satisfaction, Somerset appointed new commissioners, whom he sent every where, with an unlimited power to hear and determine all causes about inclosures, high-ways, and cottages[*]. As the object of this commission was very disagreeable to the gentry and nobility, they called the commission arbitrary and illegal; and the common people, fearing it would be eluded, and being impatient for immediate redress, could no longer contain their sury, but sought for a remedy by force of arms.
Insurrections.

The rising began at once in several parts of England, as if an universal conspiracy had been formed by the commonalty. The insurgents in Wiltshire were dispersed by Sir William Herbert: Those in the neighbouring counties, Oxford and Glocester, by lord Gray of Wilton. Many of the rioters were killed in the field: Others were executed by martial law. The commotions in Hampshire, Sussex, Kent, and other counties, were quieted by gentler methods; but the disorders in Devonshire and Norfolk threatened the most fatal consequences.

THE commonalty in Devonshire began with the usual pretence of inclosures and of oppressions from the gentry; but the parish priest of Sampford-Courtenay, had the address to give their discontents a direction towards religion; and the delicacy of this subject, in the present emergence, made the insurrection immediately appear dangerous. In other counties, the gentry had kept closely united with the government; but here many of them took part with the populace; among others, Humphrey Arundel, governor of St. Michael's Mount. The rioters were brought to the form of a regular army, and amounted to the number of 10,000 men. Lord Russel had been sent against them at the head of a small force; but finding himself too weak to encounter them in the field, he kept at a distance, and began to treat and negotiate with them; in hopes of eluding their fury by delay, and of dispersing them by the difficulty of their subsisting together. Their demands were, that the mass should be restored, half of the abbey-lands resumed, the law of the six articles executed, holy water and holy bread respected, and all other particular grievances redressed[*]. The council, to whom Russel transmitted these demands, sent a haughty answer; exhorted the rebels to disperse; and promised them pardon upon their immediate submission. Enraged at this disappointment, they marched to Exeter; carrying before them crosses, banners, holy water, candlesticks, and other implements of the antient superstition; together with the hoste, which they covered with a canopy[†]. The inhabitants of Exeter shut their gates; and the insurgents, as they had no cannon, endeavoured to take the place, first by scalade, then by mining, but were repulsed in all their attempts. Russel meanwhile lay at Honiton, till reinforced by Sir William Herbert, and lord Gray, with some German horse, and some Italian arquebusiers under Battista Spinola. He then resolved to attempt the relief of Exeter, which was now reduced to extremities. He attacked the rebels, drove them from all their posts, committed great slaughter upon them both in the action and pursuit[‡], and took many prisoners. Arundel and the other leaders were sent to London, tried and executed. Many of the inferior sort were put to death by martial law[§]: The vicar of St. Thomas, one of the principal incendiaries, was hanged on the top of his own tower, arrayed in his popish weeds, with his beads at his girdle‖.

THE insurrection in Norfolk rose still to a greater height, and was attended with greater violences. The populace were at first excited, as in other places, by the complaints against inclosures; but finding their numbers amount to twenty thousand men, they grew insolent on their force, and proceeded to more exorbitant pretensions. They required the suppression of the gentry, the placing new counsellors about the King, and the re-establishment of the antient rites. One Ket, a tanner, had assumed the government of them; and he exercised his authority with the utmost insolence and outrage. Having taken possession of Moushold-Hill near Norwich, he erected his tribunal under an old oak, thence called the oak of reformation; and summoning the gentry to appear before him, he gave such decrees as might be expected from his character and situation. The marquis of Northampton was first ordered against him; but met with a repulse, in an action, where lord Sheffield was killed[*]. The protector affected popularity, and cared not to appear in person against the insurgents: He therefore sent next the earl of Warwic at the head of 6000 men, levied for the wars against Scotland; and he thereby afforded his mortal enemy an opportunity of augmenting his reputation and character. Warwic, having tried some skirmishes with the rebels, at last made a general attack upon them, and put them to flight. Two thousand of them fell in the fight and pursuit: Ket was hanged at Norwich castle; nine of his followers on the boughs of the oak of reformation; and the insurrection was entirely suppressed. Some rebels in Yorkshire, hearing of the fate of their companions, accepted the offers of pardon, and threw down their arms. A general indemnity was soon after published by the protector[†].

Conduct of the war with Scotland.

BUT tho' the insurrections were thus quickly suppressed in England, and no traces of them seemed to remain, they were attended with very bad consequences with regard to the foreign interests of the nation. The forces of the earl of Warwic, which might have made a great impression on Scotland, were diverted from that enterprize; and De Thermes had leizure to reduce that country to some settlement and composure. He took the fortress of Broughty, and put the garrison to the sword. He straitened the English at Haddington; and though lord Dacres found means to throw relief into the place, and to reinforce the garrison, it was found very expensive, and even impracticable to keep possession of that fortress. The whole country in the neighbourhood was laid waste by the inroads both of the Scotch and English, and could afford no supply to the garrison: The place lay above thirty miles from the borders; so that a regular army was necessary to escort thither any provisions: And as the plague had broke out among the troops, they perished daily, and were reduced to a state of great weakness. For these reasons, orders were given to dismantle Haddington, and to convoy the artillery and garrison to Berwic; and the earl of Rutland, now created warden of the east marches, executed the orders.

With France.

THE King of France also took advantage of the distractions of the English, in order to recover Boulogne, and that territory, which Henry the eighth had conquered from France. Under other pretences, he assembled an army; and ••lling suddenly upon the Boullonois, took the castles of Sellacque, Blackness, and Ambleteuse, tho' well supplied with garrisons, ammunition, and provisions[*]. He attempted to surprize Boulenberg, and was repulsed; but the garrison, not thinking the place tenable after the loss of the other fortresses, destroyed the works, and retired to Boulogne. The rains, which fell in great abundance during the autumn, and a pestilential distemper, which broke out in the French camp, deprived Henry of all hopes of success against Boulogne itself; and he retired to Paris[†]. He left the command of the army to Gaspar de Coligny, lord of Chatillon, so famous afterwards under the name of admiral Coligny; and he gave him orders to form the siege early in the spring. The active disposition of this general engaged him to make during the winter several attempts against the place; but they proved all unsuccessful.

STROZZI, who commanded the French fleet and galleys, endeavoured to make a descent on Jersey; but meeting there with an English fleet, an action ensued, which seems not to have been decisive, since the historians of the two nations differ so widely in their accounts of the event[‡].

AS soon as the French war broke out, the protector endeavoured to fortify himself with the alliance of the emperor; and he sent over secretary Paget to Brussels, where Charles then resided, in order to assist Sir Philip Hobby, the ordinary ambassador, in this negotiation. But that prince had formed a design of extending his dominions by acting the part of champion to the catholic religion; and tho' extremely desirous of fortifying himself by the English alliance against France, his capital enemy, he thought it unsuitable to his other pretensions to enter into strict confederacy with a nation, which had broke off all connexions with the church of Rome. He therefore declined all advances of friendship from England; and eluded the applications of the ambassadors. An exact account is preserved of this negotiation in a letter of Hobby; and it is remarkable, that the emperor, in a conversation with the English ministers, asserted, that the prerogatives of a King of England were more extensive than those of a King of France[§]. Burnet, who preserves this letter, subjoins, as a parallel instance, that one objection which the Scotch made to marrying their Queen with Edward, was that all their privileges would be swallowed up by the great prerogative of the Kings of England‖.

SOMERSET, finding no assistance from the emperor, was inclined to conclude a peace with France and Scotland; and besides that he was not in a condition to maintain such ruinous wars, he thought, that there no longer remained any object of hostilities. The Scotch had sent away their Queen; and could not, if ever so much inclined, compleat the marriage contracted with Edward: And as Henry the eighth had stipulated to restore Boulogne in 1554, it seemed a matter of small consequence to anticipate a few years, the term of the treaty. But when he proposed these reasons to the council, he met with strong opposition from his enemies, who, seeing him unable to support the war, were determined, for that very reason, to oppose all proposals for a pacification. The factions ran very high in the court of England; and matters were drawing to an issue, fatal to the authority of the protector.

Factions in the council.

AFTER Somerset obtained the patent, investing him with regal authority, he no longer paid any attention to the opinion of the other counsellors; and being elated with his high dignity, as well as with his victory at Pinkey, he thought, that every one ought, in every thing, to yield to his sentiments. All those who were not entirely devoted to him, were sure to be neglected; whoever opposed his will received marks of anger or contempt[*]; and while he showed a resolution to govern every thing, his capacity appeared not, in any respect, proportioned to his ambition. Warwic, more subtle and artificial, covered more exorbitant views under fairer appearances; and having associated himself with Southampton, who had been readmitted into the council, he formed a strong party, who were determined to free themselves from the slavery, imposed on them by the protector.

THE malecontent counsellors found the disposition of the nation very favourable to their designs. The nobility and gentry were in general displeased with the preference, which Somerset seemed to have given the people; and as they ascribed all the insults to which they had been lately exposed, to his procrastination, and to the encouragement given the multitude, so they apprehended a renewal of the same disorders from his present affectation of popularity. He had erected a court of requests in his own house for the relief of the people[†], and he interposed with the judges in their behalf; a measure which might be denominated illegal, if any exertion of prerogative, at that time, could with certainty deserve that appellation. And this attempt, which was a stretch of power, seemed the more unpolitic, that it disgusted the nobility, the surest support of monarchical authority.

BUT tho' Somerset courted the people, the interest, which he had formed with them, was in no degree answerable to his expectations. The catholic party, who retained influence with the multitude, were his declared enemies; and took advantage of every opportunity to decry his conduct. The attainder and execution of his brother bore an odious aspect: The introduction of foreign troops into the kingdom, was represented in very invidious colours: The great estate which he had suddenly acquired, at the expence of the church and of the crown, rendered him obnoxious: And the palace which he was building in the Strand, served, by its magnificence, and still more by other circumstances which attended it, to expose him to the censures of the public. The parish church of St. Mary, with three bishops houses, were pulled down, to furnish ground and materials for this structure: Not contented with that sacrilege, an attempt was made to demolish St. Margaret's, Westminster, and to employ the stones to the same purpose; but the parishioners rose in a tumult, and chaced away the protector's tradesmen. He then laid his hands on a chapel in St. Paul's Church-yard, with a cloister, and charnel-house belonging to it; and these edifices, together with a church of St. John of Jerusalem, were made use of to raise his palace. To render the matter more odious to the people, the tombs, and other monuments of the dead were defaced; and the bones carried away, and buried in unconsecrated ground[†].

6th October.

Conspiracy against Somerset.

ALL these imprudences were remarked by Somerset's enemies, who resolved to take advantage of them. The lord St. John, president of the council, the earls of Warwic, Southampton, and Arundel, with five counsellors more, met at Ely-house; and assuming to themselves the whole power of the council, began to act independent of the protector, whom they represented as the author of every public grievance and misfortune. They wrote letters to the chief nobility and gentry in England, informing them of the present measures, and requiring their assistance: They sent for the mayor and aldermen of London, and enjoined them to obey their orders, without regard to any contrary orders which they should receive from the duke of Somerset. They laid the same injunctions on the lieutenant of the tower, who expressed his resolution to comply with them. Next day, Rich, lord chancellor, the marquis of Northampton, the earl of Shrewsbury, Sir Thomas Cheney, Sir John Gage, Sir Ralph Sadler, and the lord chief justice Montague, joined the malecontent counsellors; and every thing bore a bad aspect for the protector's authority. Secretary Petre, whom he had sent to treat with the council, chose rather to remain with them; and the common council of the city, being applied to, declared with one voice their approbation of the new measures, and their resolution of supporting them‖.

THE protector had no sooner heard of the defection of the counsellors, than he removed the King from Hampton-court, where he then resided, to the castle of Windsor; and, arming his friends and servants, seemed resolute to defend himself against all his enemies. But finding, that no man of rank, except Cranmer and Paget, adhered to him, that the people did not rise at his summons, that the City and Tower had declared against him, that even his best friends and confidents had deserted him, he lost all hopes of success, and began to apply to his enemies for pardon and forgiveness. No sooner was this despondency known, than lord Russel, Sir John Baker, speaker of the house of commons, and three counsellors more, who had hitherto remained neuters, joined Warwic's party, whom every body now regarded as masters. The council informed the public, by proclamation, of their actions and intentions; they wrote to the princesses Mary and Elizabeth, to the same purpose; they made addresses to the King, in which, after the humblest protestations of duty and obedience, they informed him, that they were the council appointed by his father, for the government of the kingdom during his minority; that they had chosen the duke of Somerset protector, with the express condition that he should guide himself by their advice and direction; that he had usurped the whole authority to himself, and had neglected, and even in every thing opposed, their advice; that he had proceeded to that height of presumption, as to levy forces against them, and place these forces about his majesty's person: They therefore begged, that they might be admitted to his royal presence, that he would be pleased to restore them to his confidence, and that Somerset's servants might be dismissed.
Somerset resigns the protectorship.

Their request was complied with: Somerset capitulated only for gentle treatment, which was promised him. He was, however, sent to the Tower[*], with some of his friends and partizans, among whom was Cecil, who was afterwards so much distinguished. Articles of charge were exhibited against him[†]; of which the chief, at least the best founded, is his usurpation of the government, and his taking into his own hands the whole administration of affairs. The clause of his patent, which invested him with absolute power, unlimited by any law, was never objected to him; plainly, because, according to the sentiments of those times, that power was, in some degree, involved in the very idea of regal authority.

THE catholics were extremely elevated with this revolution; and as they had ascribed all the late innovations to Somerset's councils, they hoped, that his fall would prepare the way for the return of the ancient religion. But Warwic, who now bore chief sway in the council, was entirely indifferent with regard to all these points of controversy; and finding, that the principles of the reformation had sunk deeper into the young prince's mind than to be easily eradicated, he was determined to comply with his inclinations, and not to hazard his new acquired power by any hazardous councils. He took care very early to express his intentions of supporting the reformation; and he threw such discouragements on Southampton, who stood at the head of the Romanists, and whom he considered as a dangerous rival, that the high-spirited nobleman retired from the council, and soon after died of vexation and disappointment. The other counsellors, who had concurred in bringing about the revolution, received their reward, by promotions and new honours. Russel was created earl of Bedford: The marquis of Northampton obtained the office of great chamberlain; and lord Wentworth, besides the office of chamberlain of the houshold, got two large manors, Stepney and Hackney, which were torne from the see of London[‡]. A council of regency was formed, not that which Henry's will had appointed for the government of the kingdom, and which, being founded on an act of parliament, was the only lawful one; but composed chiefly of members who had formerly been appointed by Somerset, and who derived their seats from an authority which was now declared usurped and illegal. But such niceties were, during that age, little understood, and still less regarded, in England.

4 November.

A Parliament.

A SESSION of Parliament was held; and as it was the usual maxim of that assembly to acquiesce in every administration which was established, the council dreaded no opposition from that quarter, and had reason rather to look for a
23 December.

corroboration of their authority. Somerset had been prevailed with to confess, on his knees, before the council, all the articles of charge against him; and he imputed these misdemeanors to his own rashness, folly, and indiscretion, not to any malignity of his intention‖. He even subscribed this confession; and the paper was given in to the Parliament, who, after sending a committee to examine him, and hear him acknowlege it to be authentic, passed a vote, by which they deprived him of all his offices, and fined him in two thousand pounds a year of land. Lord St. John was created treasurer in his place, and Warwic earl marshal. The prosecution against him was carried no farther. His fine was remitted by the King: He recovered his liberty: And Warwic, thinking that he was now sufficiently humbled, and that his authority was much lessen•d by his late tame and abject behaviour, re-admitted him into the council, and even agreed to an alliance between their families, by the marriage of his son, lord Dudley, with the lady Jane Seymour, daughter to Somerset[*].

DURING this session a severe act was passed against riots[†]; that if any, to the number of twelve persons, should meet together for any matter of state, and being required by any lawful magistrate, should not disperse themselves, it should be treason; and if any broke hedges, or violently pulled up pales about inclosures, without lawful authority, it should be felony: Any attempt to kill a privy counsellor, was subjected to the same penalty. The bishops had made an application, complaining, that they were deprived of all their power, by the encroachments of the civil courts, and the present suspension of the canon law; that they could summon no offenders before them, punish no vice, nor exert the discipline of the church: From which diminution of their authority, they pretended, immorality had every where received great encouragement and increase. The design of some was, to revive the penitentiary rules of the primitive church: But others thought, that such an authority committed to the bishops, would prove more oppressive than con•ession, penance, and all the clerical inventions of the ancient superstition. The Parliament, for the present, contented themselves with empowering the King to appoint thirty-two commissioners to frame a body of canon laws, which were to be valid tho' never ratified by Parliament. Such implicit trust did they repose in the crown, tho' all their liberties and properties might be affected by these canons[‡]. The King died before the canons received the royal sanction. Sir John Sharington, whose crimes and malversations had appeared so egregious at the condemnation of lord Seymour, obtained a reversal of his attainder‖. This man sought favour with the most zealous of the reformers; and bishop Latimer asserted, that tho' formerly he was a most notorious knave, he was now so penitent, that he had become a very honest man.

WHEN Warwic and the council of regency began to exercise their power, they found themselves involved in the same difficulties which had embarrassed the protector. The wars with France and Scotland could not be supported by an
Peace with France and Sco
•

land.exhausted exchequer, seemed dangerous to a divided nation, and were now ac¦knowleged not to have any object, which even the greatest and most uninterrupted success could attain. The project of peace which Somerset entertained, had served them as a pretence of clamour against his administration; yet after sending Sir Thomas Cheney to the emperor, and making again a fruitless effort to engage him in the protection of Boulog•e, they found themselves obliged to listen to the advances which Henry made them, by means of Guidotti, a Florentine merchant. The earl of Bedford, Sir John Mason, Paget, and Petre, were sent over to Boulogne, with full powers to negociate. The French King absolutely refused to pay the two millions of crowns which his predecessor had acknowleged to be due to the crown of England, as arrears of pensions; and said, that he never would consent to render himself tributary to any prince: But he offered a sum for the immediate
Boulogne surrendered.

restitution of Boulogne; and four hundred thousand crowns were at last agreed on, one half to be paid immediately, the other in August following.
24 March.

Six hostages were given for the performance of this article. Scotland was comprehended in the treaty: The English stipulated to restore Lauder and Dunglas, and to demolish the fortresses of Roxburgh and Eymouth[*]. No sooner was peace concluded with France, than a project was entertained of a close union with that kingdom; and Henry very willingly embraced a proposal so suitable both to his interest and inclination. An agreement, sometime after, was formed for a marriage between Edward and Elizabeth, a daughter of France; and all the articles were, after a little negociation, fully settled[†]: But this project never took effect.

THE intention of marrying the King to a daughter of Henry, who was a violent persecutor of the protestants, was no wise acceptable to that party in England: But, in all other respects, the council was very steady in promoting the reformation, and in enforcing the laws against the Romanists. Many of the prelates were still addicted to that communion; and tho' they made some compliances, in order to save their bishoprics, they retarded, as much as they safely could, the execution of the new laws, and gave countenance to such as were negligent or refractory. A resolution was therefore taken to seek pretences for depriving them; and the execution of this intention was the more easy, that they had all of them been obliged to take commissions, in which it was declared, that they held their sees only during the King's pleasure. It was thought proper to
Prosecution of Gardiner.

begin with Gardiner, in order to strike a terror into the rest. The method of proceeding against him was extremely violent, and had scarce any colour of law or justice. It had been prescribed him, to inculcate in a sermon, the duty of obedience to a King even during his minority; and because he had neglected this topic, he had been thrown into prison, and had been there detained during two years, without being accused of any crime, except disobedience to this arbitrary command. The duke of Somerset, secretary Petre, and some others of the council, were now sent, in order to try his temper, and endeavour to find some ground for depriving him: He professed to them his intention of conforming to the government, of supporting the King's laws, and of officiating by the new liturgy. This was not the disposition which they expected or desired‖: A new deputation was therefore sent, who carried him several articles to subscribe. He was to acknowlege his former misbehaviour, and confess the justice of his confinement: He was likewise to own, that the King was supreme head of the church; that the power of making and dispensing with holidays, was part of the prerogative; that the common-prayer book was a godly and commendable form; that the King was a compleat sovereign in his minority; that the act of the six articles was justly repealed; and that the King had full authority to correct and reform what was amiss in ecclesiastical discipline, government, or doctrine. The bishop was willing to put his hand to all the articles except the first: He maintained his conduct to have been inoffensive; and declared, that he would not own himself guilty of faults which he had never committed[*].

THE council, finding that he had gone such lengths, were determined to prevent his full compliance, by multiplying the difficulties upon him, and sending him new articles to subscribe. A list was selected of such points as they thought would be most hard of digestion; and not content with these, they insisted still on his submission, and an acknowlegement of past errors. To make this subscription more mortifying, they required a promise, that he would recommend and publish all these articles from the pulpit: But Gardiner, who saw, that they intended either to ruin or dishonour him, or perhaps both, was determined not to gratify his enemies by any farther compliances: He still insisted on his innocence; desired a fair trial; and refused to subscribe more articles, till he should recover his liberty. For this pretended offence his bishopric was put under sequestration for three months; and as he then appeared no more compliant than at first, a commission was appointed to try, or, more properly speaking, to condemn him. The commissioners were, the primate, the bishops of London, Ely, and Lin oln, secretary Petre, Sir James Hales, and some other lawyers. Gardiner objected to the legality of the commission, which was not founded on any statute or precedent; and he appealed from the commissioners to the King. His appeal was not regarded: Sentence was pronounced against him: He was deprived of his bishopric: And committed to close custody: His books and papers were seized: All company was denied him; and it was not allowed him either to send or receive any letters or messages[†].

GARDINER, as well as the other prelates, had agreed to hold his office during the King's pleasure: But the council, unwilling to make use of a concession which had been so illegally and arbitrarily exacted, chose rather to employ some forms of justice; a resolution, which led them to commit still greater iniquities and severities. But the violence of the reformers did not stop there. Day, bishop of Chichester, Heathe of Worcester, and Voisey of Exeter, were deprived of their bishoprics, under pretence of disobedience. Even Kitchen of Landaff, Capon of Salisbury, and Sampson of Coventry, tho' they had complied in every thing, yet not being supposed cordial or hearty in their obedience, were obliged to seek protection, by sacrificing the most considerable revenues of their see, to the rapacious courtiers[*].

THESE plunderers of the church neglected not even smaller profits. An order was issued by council, for purging the library of Westminster of all missals, legends, and other superstitious volumes, and delivering their garniture to Sir Anthony Aucher[†]. Many of these books were plaited with gold and silver, and curiously embossed; and this finery was probably the superstition that destroyed them. Great havoc was likewise made on the libraries of Oxford. Books and manuscripts were destroyed without distinction: The volumes of divinity suffered for their rich binding: Those of literature were condemned as useless: Those of geometry and astronomy were supposed to contain nothing but necromancy‖. The university had not power to oppose these barbarous violences: They were in danger of losing their own revenues; and expected every moment to be swallowed up by the earl of Warwic and his associates.

THO' every thing yielded to the authority of the council, the lady Mary could never be brought to compliance; and she still continued to adhere to the mass, and to reject the new liturgy. Her behaviour was, during some time, connived at; but, at last, her two chaplains, Mallet and Berkeley, were thrown into prison[§]; and the princess was remonstrated with for her disobedience. The council wrote her a letter, where they endeavoured to make her change her sentiments, and to persuade her, that her religious faith was very ill grounded. They asked her, what warrant there was in scripture for prayers in an unknown tongue, the use of images, or offering up the sacrament for the dead; and they desired her to peruse St. Austin, and the other ancient doctors, who would convince her of the errors of the Romish superstition, and prove that it was founded merely on false miracles and lying stories[‡]. The lady Mary remained obstinate against all this advice, and protested herself willing to endure death rather than relinquish her religion: She only feared, she said, that she was not worthy to suffer in so holy a cause: And as for protestant books, she thanked God, that, as she never had, so she hoped never to read any of them. Dreading farther violence, she endeavoured to make her escape to her kinsman Charles; but her design was discovered and prevented[*]. The emperor remonstrated in her behalf, and even threatned hostilities, if liberty of conscience was refused her: But tho' the council, sensible that the kingdom was in no condition to support, with honour, such a war, was desirous to comply; they found great difficulty to overcome the scruples of the young King. He had been educated in such a violent abhorrence of the mass, and other popish rites, which he regarded as impious and idolatrous, that he should participate, he thought, in the sin, if he allowed its commission: And when at last the imp•rtunity of Cranmer, Ridley, and Poinet, prevailed somewhat over his opposition, he burst into tears, lamenting his sister's obstinacy, and bewailing his own fate, that he must suffer her to continue in such an abominable mode of worship.

THE great object, at this time, of antipathy among the protestant sects, was popery, or, more properly speaking, the papists. These they regarded as the common enemy, who threatened every moment to overwhelm the evangelical faith, and destroy its partizans by fire and sword: They had not as yet had leisure to attend to the other minute divisions among themselves, which afterwards became the object of such furious quarrels and animosities, and threw the whole kingdom into confusion. Several Lutheran divines, who had reputation in those days, Bucer, Peter Martyr, and others, were engaged to take shelter in England, from the persecutions which the emperor exercised in Germany; and they received protection and encouragement. John A-lasco, a nobleman, uncle to the King of Poland[†], being expelled his country by the rigours of the catholics, settled, during some time, at Embden in East-Friezland, where he became preacher to a congregation of the reformed. Foreseeing the persecutions which ensued, he removed to England, and brought his congregation along with him. The council, who regarded them as industrious, useful people, and desired to invite over others of the same character, not only gave them Augustine friars church for the exercise of their religion, but granted them a charter, by which they were erected into a corporation, consisting of a super-intendant and four assisting ministers. This ecclesiastical establishment was quite independant of the church of England, and differed from it in some rites and ceremonies‖.

THESE differences among the protestants were matter of triumph to the catholics, who insisted, that the moment men departed from the authority of the church, they lost all criterion of truth and falsehood in matters of religion, and must be carried away by every wind of doctrine. The continual variations of every sect of protestants, afforded them the same topic of reasoning. The book of common prayer suffered in England a new revisal, and some rites and ceremonies, which had given offence, were omitted[*]. The speculative doctrines, or the metaphysics of the religion, were also fixed in forty two articles. These articles were intended to obviate further divisions and variations; and the framing them had been postponed till the establishment of the liturgy, which was regarded as a more material object to the people. The eternity of hell-torments is assorted in the articles; and care is also taken to inculcate, not only that no heathen, however virtuous, can escape an endless state of the most exquisite misery, but also that every one who presumes to maintain, that any pagan can possibly be saved, is himself exposed to the penalty of eternal perdition[†].

THE theological zeal of the council, tho' seemingly fervent, went not so far as to make them neglect their own temporal concerns, which seem to have been ever uppermost in their thoughts: They even found leisure to attend to the public interest; nay, to the commerce of the nation, which was, at that time, very little the object of general study or attention. The trade of England had anciently been carried on altogether by foreigners, chiefly the inhabitants of the Hanse-towns, or Easterlings, as they were called; and in order to encourage these merchants to settle in England, they had been erected into a corporation by Henry the third, had obtained a patent, were endowed with privileges, and were exempted from several heavy duties paid by aliens. So ignorant were the English of commerce, that this company, commonly denominated the merchants of the Steel-yard, engrossed almost the who'e foreign trade of the kingdom; and as they naturally employed the shipping of their own country, the navigation of England was also in a very languishing condition. It was therefore thought proper by the council to find pretences for annulling the privileges of this corporation, privileges which put them nearly on an equal footing with Englishmen in the duties which they paid; and as such patents were, during that are granted by the absolute power of the King, men were the less surprized to 〈◊〉 them recalled by the same authority. Several remonstrances were made against this innovation, by Lubec, Hamburgh, and other Hanse towns; but the council persevered in their resolution, and the good effects of it became soon visible to the nation. The English, by their very situation as na•ives, had advantages above foreigners in the purchase of cloth, wool, and other commodities; tho' these advantages had not been sufficient to rouze their industry, or engage them to become rivals to this opulent company: But when aliens duty was also imposed upon all foreigners indiscriminately, the English were tempted to enter into commerce, and a spirit of industry began to appear in the kingdom[*].

ABOUT the same time a treaty was made with Gustavus Ericson, King of Sweden, by which it was stipulated, that if he sent bullion into England, he might carry away English commodities without paying custom, that he should carry bullion to no other prince, that if he sent ozimus, steel, copper, &c. he should pay custom for English commodities as an Englishman, and that if he sent other merchandize, he should have free intercourse, paying custom as a stranger[†]. The bullion sent over by Sweden set the mint to work: Good specie was coined: And much of the base metal, formerly issued, was recalled: A circumstance which tended extremely to the encouragement of commerce.

Warwic created duke of Northumberland.

BUT all these schemes for the improvement of industry were like to prove abortive, by the fear of domestic convulsions, arising from the exorbitant ambition of Warwic. That nobleman, not contented with the station which he had attained, carried farther his pretensions, and had gained to himself partizans who were disposed to second him in every enterprize. The last earl of Northumberland died without issue; and as Sir Thomas Piercy, his brother, had been attainted on account of the share which he had in the Yorkshire insurrection during the late reign, the title was at present extinct, and the estate was vested in the crown. Warwic now procured to himself a grant of those ample possessions, which lay chiefly in the North, the most warlike part of the kingdom; and he was dignified with the title of duke of Northumberland. His friend, Paulet, lord St. John, the treasurer, was created first earl of Wiltshire, then marquess of Winchester; Sir William Herbert was made earl of Pembroke.

His ambition.

BUT the ambition of Northumberland made him regard all increase of possessions and titles, either to himself or partizans, as steps only to further acquisitions. Finding that Somerset, tho' degraded from his dignity, and even lessened in the public opinion by his spiritless conduct, still enjoyed a considerable share of popularity, he was determined to ruin a man whom he regarded as the chief obstacle to the attainment of his hopes. The alliance which had been formed between the families had produced no cordial union, and only enabled Northumberland to compass with more certainty the destruction of his rival. He secretly gained many of the friends and servants of that unhappy nobleman: He sometimes terrified him by the appearance of danger: Sometimes provoked him by ill usage. The unguarded Somerset often broke out into menacing expressions against Northumberland: At other times, he formed rash projects, which he immediately abandoned: His treacherous confidents carried to his enemy every passionate word which dropped from him: They revealed the schemes, which they themselves had first suggested[*]: And Northumberland, thinking that the proper season was now come, began to act in an open manner against him.

16th October.

IN one night, the duke of Somerset, the lord Grey, David and John Seymour, Hammond and Neudigate, two of the duke's servants, Sir Ralph Vane and Sir Thomas Palmer were arrested and committed to custody. Next day, the dutchess of Somerset, with her favourites, Crane and his wife, Sir Miles Partridge, Sir Michael Stanhope, Bannister, and others were thrown into prison. Sir Thomas Palmer, who had all along acted the part of a spy upon Somerset, accused him of having formed a design to raise an insurrection in the north, to attack the gens d'armes on a muster-day, to secure the Tower, and to excite a rebellion in London: But what was the only probable accusation, he asserted, that Somerset had once laid a project for murdering Northumberland, Northampton, and Pembroke at a banquet, which was to be given them by lord Paget. Crane and his wife confirmed Palmer's testimony with regard to this last design; and it appears that some rash scheme of that nature had been mentioned; tho' no regular conspiracy had been formed, nor means prepared for its execution. Hammond confessed, that the duke had armed men to guard him one night in his house at Greenwich.

Trial of Somerset.

SOMERSET was brought to his trial before the marquis of Winchester, who acted as high steward. Twenty-seven peers sat as the jury, among whom were Northumberland, Pembroke, and Northampton, whom decency should have hindered from acting as judges in the trial of a man, who appeared to be their capital enemy. Somerset was accused of high treason on account of the projected insurrections, and of felony in forming a design to murder privy counsellors.

WE have a very imperfect account of all state trials during that age, which is a sensible defect in our history: But it appears, that some more regularity was observed in the management of this prosecution than had been usually employed in like cases. The witnesses were at least examined by the privy council; and tho' they were neither produced in court, nor confronted with the
1st December.

prisoner (circumstances required by the strict principles of equity) their depositions were given in to the jury. The proof seems to have been very lame with regard to the treasonable part of the charge; and Somerset's defence was so satisfactory, that the peers gave verdict in his favour: The intention alone of assaulting the privy counsellors was supported by any tolerable evidence; and the jury brought him in guilty of felony. The prisoner himself confessed, that he had mentioned the design of murdering Northumberland and the other lords; but had not formed any resolution on that head: And when he received sentence, he asked pardon of those peers for the designs which he had hearkened to against them. The people, by whom Somerset was beloved, hearing the first part of his sentence, by which he was absolved from treason, expressed their joy by loud acclamations: But their satisfaction was suddenly damped, on finding that he was condemned to death for felony[*].

CARE had been taken by Northumberland's emissaries, to prepossess the young King against his uncle; and lest he should relent, no access was given to any of Somerset's friends, and the prince was kept from reflection by a continued series of occupations and amusements. At last the prisoner was brought to the scaffold
His execution.

on Tower-hill, amidst great crouds of spectators, who bore him such sincere kindness, that they entertained, to the last moment, the fond hopes of his pardon[†].
22d January.

Many of them rushed in to dip their handkerchiefs in his blood, which they long preserved as a precious relict; and some of them soon after, when Northumberland met with a like doom, upbraided him with this cruelty, and displayed to him these symbols of his crime. Somerset indeed, tho' many actions of his life were very exceptionable, seems, in general, to have merited a better fate; and the faults, which he committed, were owing to weakness, not to any bad intentions. His virtues were better calculated for private than for public life; and by his want of penetration and firmness, he was ill-fitted to extricate himself from those cabals and violences to which that age was so much addicted. Sir Thomas Arundel, Sir Michael Stanhope, Sir Miles Partridge, and Sir Ralph Vane, all of them Somerset's friends, were brought to their trial, condemned and executed: Great injustice seems to have been used in their prosecution. Lord Paget, chancellor of the dutchy, was, on some pretence, tried in the Star-chamber, and condemned in a fine of 6000 pounds, with the loss of his office. To mortify him the more, he was degraded from the order of the garter; as unworthy, on account of his mean birth, to share that honour[‡]. Lord Rich, chancellor, was also compelled to resign his office, on the discovery of some friendship, which he had shown to Somerset.

THE day after the execution of Somerset, a session of Parliament was held,
23d January. A Parliament.

where farther advances were made for the establishment of the reformation. The new liturgy was authorised; and penalties were enacted against all such as absented themselves from public worship[*]. To use the mass had already been prohibited under very severe penalties; so that the reformers, it appears, whatever scope they had given to their own private judgment, in disputing the tenets of the antient religion, were resolved not to allow the same privilege to others; and the practice, nay the very doctrine of toleration, was, at that time, equally unknown to all sects and parties. To dissent from the religion of the magistrate was universally conceived to be as criminal as to question his title, or rebel against his authority.

A LAW was enacted against usury; that is, against taking any interest for money[†]. This act was the effect of antient superstitions; but being found extremely iniquitous in itself, as well as prejudicial to commerce, it was afterwards repealed in the twelfth of Elizabeth. The common rate of interest, notwithstanding the law, was at that time 14 per cent[‡].

A BILL was introduced by the ministry into the house of lords, renewing those rigorous statutes of treasons, which had been abrogated in the beginning of this reign; and tho' the peers, by their high station, stood most exposed to these tempests of state, yet had they so little regard to public authority, or even to their own true interests, that they passed the bill with only one dissenting voice[§]. But the commons rejected it, and prepared a new bill, that passed into a law, by which it was enacted, that whoever should call the King or any of his heirs, named in the statute of the 35th of the last reign, heretic, schismatic, tyrant, infidel, or usurper of the crown, should forfeit, for the first offence, their goods and chattels, and be imprisoned during pleasure; for the second, should be in a praemunire; for the third, should be attainted of treason. But if any should unadvisedly advance such a slander in writing, printing, painting, carving or graving, he was, for the first offence, to be held a traitor‖. It may be worthy of notice, that the King and his next heir, the lady Mary, were professedly of different religions; and religions, which threw on each other the imputation of heresy, schism, idolatry, prophaneness, blasphemy, wickedness, and all the opprobrious epithets, that religious zeal has invented. It was almost impossible, therefore, for the people, if they spoke on these subjects at all, not to fall into the crime, so severely punished by this statute; and the jealousy of the commons for liberty, tho' it led them to dissent from the lords, appears not to have been very active, vigilant or clear-sighted.

THE commons annexed to this bill a clause which was of much more importance than the bill itself, that no one should be convicted of any kind of treason, unless the crime was proved by the oaths of two witnesses, who were confronted with the prisoner. The lords scrupled to pass this clause; tho' required by the most obvious principles of equity, and tho' their own interest was fully as much concerned as that of the commons. But the members of that house trusted for protection to their present personal interest and power, and neglected the noblest and most permanent security, that of the laws.

A BILL was introduced into the house of peers for making a provision for the poor; but the commons, not chusing that a money-bill should begin in the upperhouse, framed a new bill to the same purpose. By this bill, the church-wardens were empowered to collect charitable contributions for the poor, and if any refused to contribute, or disswaded others from that charity, the bishop of the diocese was empowered to proceed against them. Such a large discretionary power, entrusted to the prelates, seems as proper an object of jealousy as the authority assumed by the peers[*].

THERE was another occasion in which the Parliament reposed an unusual confidence in the bishops. They empowered them to proceed against such as neglected the Sundays and holydays[†]. But these were unguarded concessions granted to the church: The general humour of the times led men to bereave the ecclesiastics of all their power, and even to pillage them of all their property: Many clergymen were obliged for a subsistance to turn carpenters or taylors, and some kept alehouses[‡]. The bishops themselves were generally reduced to poverty, and held both their revenues and spiritual office by a very precarious and uncertain tenure.

TONSTAL, bishop of Durham, was one of the most eminent prelates of that age, still less for the dignity of his see, than for his own personal merit, his learning, moderation, humanity, and benesicence. He had opposed, by his vote and authority, all the innovations in religion; but so soon as they were enacted, he had always submitted, and had paid conformity to each system of religion, which was established. The known probity of his mind had made this compliance be ascribed, not to an interested or time serving spirit, but to a sense of duty, which led him to think that all private opinions ought to be sacrificed to the great concerns of public peace and tranquillity. That general regard which was paid his character, had preserved him from any severe treatment during the protectorship of Somerset; but when Northumberland gained the ascendant, he was thrown into prison; and as that rapacious nobleman had formed a design of appropriating the revenues of the see of Durham, and of forming to himself a principality in the northern counties, he was resolved, in order to effectuate his purpose, to deprive Tonstal of his bishopric. A bill of attainder, therefore, under pretence of misprision of treason, was introduced into the house of peers against that prelate; and it passed with the opposition only of lord Stourt•n, a zealous catholic, and of Cranmer, who always bore a cordial and sincere friendship to the bishop of Durham. But when the bill was sent down to the commons, they required that witnesses should be examined, that Tonstal should be allowed to defend himself, and that he should be confronted with his accusers: And when these demands were refused, they rejected the bill.

THIS equity, so unusual in the Parliament during that age, was ascribed by Northumberland and his partizans, not to any regard for liberty and justice, but to the prevalence of Somerset's faction in a house of commons, which, being chosen during the administration of that nobleman, had been almost entirely filled with his creatures. They were confirmed in this opinion, when they sound, that a bill confirming the attainder of Somerset and his complices was also rejected by the commons, tho' it had passed the upper house. A resolution was
15th April.

therefore taken to dissolve the Parliament, which had sat during this whole reign; and soon after to summon a new one.

A new Parliament.

NORTHUMBERLAND, in order to ensure to himself a house of commons entirely obsequious to his will, ventured on an expedient which could not have been practised, or even thought of, in an age, when there was any idea or comprehension of liberty. He engaged the King to write circular letters to all the sheriffs, in which he enjoined them to inform the freeholders and voters, that they were required to choose men of knowledge and experience for their representatives. After this general exhortation, the King continued in these words.
"And yet, nevertheless, our pleasure is, that where our privy council, or any of them shall, in our behalf, recommend, within their jurisdiction, men of learning and wisdom; in such cases, their directions shall be regarded and followed, as tending to the same end which we desire, that is, to have this assembly composed of the pers ns in our realm the best sitted to give advice and good council[*]."
Several letters were sent from the King, recommending members to particular counties, Sir Richard Cotton for Hampshire; Sir William Fitzwilliams and Sir Henry Neville for Berkshire; Sir William Drury and Sir Henry Benningfield for Suffolk, &c. But tho' some counties only received this species of congé d'elire from the King; the recommendations from the privy council and the councellors, we may fairly presume, would extend to the greatest part, if not to the whole, of the kingdom.

IT is remarkable, that this attempt was made during the reign of a minor King, when the royal authority is usually weakest; that it was patiently submitted to; and that it gave so little umbrage as scarce to be taken notice of by any historian. The painful and laborious collector above cited, who never omits the most trivial matters, is the only person, that has thought this memorable letter worthy of being transmitted to posterity.

THE Parliament answered Northumberland's expectations. As Tonstal had in the interval been deprived of his bishopric after a very arbitrary manner, by the
1st March.

sentence of lay commissioners, appointed to try him, the see of Durham was by act of Parliament divided into two bishoprics, which had certain portions of the revenue assigned them. The regalities of the see, which included the jurisdiction of a count palatine, were given by the King to Northumberland; and it was not to be doubted but that nobleman had also proposed to make rich plunder of the revenue, as was then the usual practice of the courtiers, whenever a bishopric fell vacant.

THE commons gave the ministry another mark of attachment, which was at that time the most sincere, the most cordial, and the most difficult to be obtained: They granted a supply of two subsidies and two fifteenths. To render this present the more acceptable, they voted a preamble, containing a long accusation of Somerset,
"for involving the King in wars, wasting his treasure, ingaging him in much debt, embasing the coin, and giving occasion for a most terrible rebellion[*]."

THE debts of the crown were at this time very considerable. The King had received from France 400,000 crowns on delivering Boulogne; he had reaped profits from the sale of some chantry lands; the churches had been despoiled of all their plate and rich ornaments, which, by a decree of council, without any pretence of law or equity, had been converted to the King's use[†]: Yet such had been the rapacity of the courtiers, that the crown was indebted about 300,000 pounds[‡]; and great depredations were, at the same time, made of the royal demesnes. The young prince showed, among other virtues, a disposition to frugality, which, had he lived, would soon have retrieved these losses: But as his health was declining very fast, the present emptiness of the exchequer was a sensible obstacle to the execution of those projects, which the ambition of Northumberland had founded on the prospect of Edward's approaching end.

Succession changed.

THAT nobleman represented to the prince, whom youth and an infirm state of health made susceptible of every impression, that his two sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, had both been declared illegitimate by act of Parliament, and tho' Henry by his will had restored them to a place in the succession, the nation would never bear to see the throne of England filled by a bastard: That they were only the King's sisters by the half-blood; and even if they were legitimate, could not enjoy the crown as his heirs and successors: That the Queen of Scots stood excluded by the king's will; and being an alien, lost all right of inheriting by the law; not to mention, that, as she was betrothed to the dauphin, she would, by her succession, render England, as she had already done Scotland, a province to France: That the certain consequence of his sister Mary's succession, or that of the Queen of Scots, was the abolition of the protestant religion, the repeal of those laws enacted in favour of the reformation, and the re-establishment of the usurpations and idolatry of the church of Rome: That fortunately for England, the same order of succession, which justice required, was also the most conformable to public interest; and there was not on any side any just ground for doubt or deliberation: That when these three princesses were excluded by such solid reasons, the succession devolved to the marchioness of Dorset, eldest daughter to the French Queen and the duke of Suffolk: That the next heir of the marchioness was the lady Jane Gray, a lady of the most amiable virtue, accomplished by the best education, both for literature and for religion; and every way worthy of a throne: And that even, if her title by blood should be doubtful, which there was no just reason to pretend, the King was possessed of the same power, which his father enjoyed; and might leave her the crown by letters patent. These reasonings made impression on the young prince; and above all, his zealous affection for the protestant religion made him apprehend the consequences, if so bigotted a catholic as his sister Mary should succeed to the throne. And tho' he bore a tender affection to the lady Elizabeth, who was liable to no such objection, means were found to perswade him, that he could not exclude the one sister, on account of illegitimacy, without also giving an exclusion to the other.

NORTHUMBERLAND, finding that his arguments were likely to operate on the King, began to prepare the other parts of that political fabric, which he intended to raise. Two sons of the duke of Suffolk by a second venter having died, this season, of the sweating sickness, that title was extinct; and Northumberland engaged the King to bestow it on the marquis of Dorset. By means of this favour and of others, which he conferred upon him, he persuaded the new duke of Suffolk and the dutchess, to give their daughter, the lady Jane, in marriage to his fourth son, the lord Guilford Dudley. In order to fortify himself by farther alliances, he negotiated a marriage between the lady Catherine Gray, second daughter to Suffolk, and lord Herbert, eldest son to the earl of Pembroke. He also married his own daughter to lord Hastings, eldest son to the earl of Huntingdon[*]. These marriages were solemnized with great pomp and festivity; and the people, who hated Northumberland, could not forbear expressing their indignation at seeing these public demonstrations of joy, during the languishing state of the young prince's health.

EDWARD had been seized in the foregoing year, first with the measles, then with the small pox; but having perfectly recovered both these distempers, the nation entertained hopes, that they would only serve to confirm his health; and he had afterwards made a progress thro' some parts of the kingdom. It was suspected, that he had there over-heated himself in exercises: He was seized with a cough,
The King's sicknets.

which proved obstinate, and gave way neither to regimen nor medicines: Several fatal symptoms of a consumption appeared; and tho' it was hoped, that, as the season of the year advanced, his youth and temperance might get the better of the malady, men saw with great concern his bloom and vigour insensibly decay. The general attachment to the young prince, joined to the hatred borne the Dudleys, made it be remarked, that Edward had every moment declined in health, from the time that lord Robert Dudley had been put about him, in the quality of gentleman of the bedchamber.

THE languishing state of Edward's health made Northumberland the more intent on the execution of his project. He removed all, except his own emissaries, from about the King: He himself attended him with the greatest assiduity: He pretended the most anxious concern for his health and welfare: And by all these artifices, he prevailed on him to give his final consent to the settlement projected. Sir Edward Montague, chief justice of the Common Pleas, Sir John Baker and Sir Thomas Bromley, two judges, with the attorney and sollicitor general were sent for to the council; where, after the minutes of the intended deed were ••ad to them, the King required them to d••• them up in the form of letters patent. They hesitated in obeying this order; and desired time to consider of it. The more they reflected, the greater dang•• they sound in compliance. The settlement of the crown by Henry the eighth had been made in consequence of an art of Parliament; and by another act, passed in the beginning of this reign, it was declared treason in any of the heirs, their aiders or abettors, to attempt on the right of another, or change the order of succession. The judges pleaded these reasons before the council. They urged, that such a patent as was intended would be entirely invalid; that it would subject, not only the judges who drew it, but every counsellor who signed it, to the pains of treason; and that the only proper expedient, both to give force to the new settlement, and free its partizans from danger, was to summon a Parliament, and obtain the consent and sanction of that assembly. The King said, that he intended afterwards to follow that method, and would call a Parliament, in which he proposed to have his settlement ratified; but in the mean time, he required the judges, on their allegiance, to draw the patent in the form required. The council told the judges, that their refusal would subject them all to the pains of treason. Northumberland gave to Montague the appellation of traitor; and said that he would fight in his shirt with any man in so just a quarrel as that of the lady Jane's succession. The judges were reduced to great difficulties between the dangers of the law, and those arising from the violence of present power and authority[*].

THE arguments were canvassed in several different meetings between the council and the judges; and no solution could be found of the present difficulties. At last, Montague proposed an expedient, which satisfied both his brethren and the counsellors. He desired, that a special commission should be passed by the King and council, requiring the judges to draw a patent for the new settlement of the crown; and that a pardon should immediately after be granted them for any offence which they might have committed by their compliance. When the patent was drawn and brought to the bishop of Ely, chancellor, in order to pass the great seal, that prelate required, that all the judges should sign it. Gosnald at first refused; and it was with much difficulty, that he was prevailed on, by the violent menaces of Northumberland, to comply; but the constancy of Sir James Hales, who, tho' a zealous protestant, preferred justice on this occasion to the prejudices of his party, could not be shaken by any expedient. The chancellor next required, for his greater security, that all the privy councellors should set their hands to the patent: The intrigues of Northumberland or the fears of his violence
21st June.

were so prevalent, that the counsellors complied with this demand. Cranmer alone hesitated during some time, but yielded at last to the earnest and pathetic entreaties of the King[†]. Cecil, at that time secretary of state, pretended alterwards that he only signed as a witness to the King's subscription. And thus, by the King's letters patent, the two princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, were set aside; and the crown was settled on the heirs of the dutchess of Suffolk: For the dutchess herself was content to be postponed to her daughters.

AFTER this settlement was made, with so many inauspicious circumstances, Edward declined visibly every day in his health; and small hopes were entertained of his recovery. To make the matter worse, his physicians were dismissed by Northumberland's advice and by an order of council; and he was put into the hands of an ignorant woman, who undertook, in a little time, to restore him to his former state of health. After the use of her medicines, all the bad symptoms encreased to the most violent degree: He felt a difficulty of speech and breathing; his pulse failed, his legs swelled, his colour became livid; and many
And death▪ 6th July.

other symptoms appeared of his approaching end. He expired at Greenwich in the sixteenth year of his age, and the seventh of his reign.

ALL the English historians dwell with pleasure on the excellencies of this young prince; whom the flattering promises of hope, joined to many real virtues, had made an object of the most tender affections of the public. He possessed mildness of disposition, application to study and business, a capacity to learn and judge, and an attachment to equity and justice. He seems only to have contracted from his education and from the age in which he lived, too much of a narrow prepossession in matters of religion, which made him incline somewhat to bigotry and persecution: But as the bigotry of protestants, less governed by priests, lies under more restraints than that of catholics, the effects of this malignant quality were the less to be apprehended, if a longer life had been granted to young Edward.

Notes

*
Strype's Memor. vol. ii. p. 457.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. ii. p. 5.
↵

*
Heylin, Hist. Ref. Edw. VI.
↵

†
Collier, vol. ii. p. 218. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 6. Strype's Mem. of Cranm. p. 141.
↵

‡
Strype's Memor. of Cranm. p. 141.
↵

§
Fuller, Heylin, and Rymer.
↵

*
Stow's Annals, p. 594.
↵

†
Hollingshed, p. 979.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. ii. Records, No. 6.
↵

*
Goodwin's Annals, Heylin.
↵

*
Fox, vol. ii. p. 712.
↵

†
Fox, vol. ii. p. 724.
↵

‡
Collier, vol. ii. p. 228. Fox, vol. ii.
↵

*
Mem. Cranm. p. 146, 147, &c.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. ii. p. 28.
↵

*
Collier, vol. II. p. 228. ex MS. Col. C. C. Cantab. Bibliothica Brittanica, article Gardiner.
↵

†
Fox, vol. II.
↵

‡
Father Paul, lib. 2.
↵

*
Sleidan.
↵

†
Pere Daniel.
↵

*
Spotswood, p. 75. The same author, p. 92, tells us a story, which confirms this character of the popish clergy in Scotland. It became a great dispute in the university of St. Andrews, whether the pater should be said to God or the saints. The friars, who knew in general that the reformers neglected the saints, were determined to maintain their honour with great obstinacy, but they knew not upon what topics to found their doctrine. Some held that the pater was said to God formaliter, and to saints materialiter; others, to God principaliter, and to saints minus principaliter; others would have it ultimate and non ultimate: But the majority seemed to hold, that the pater was said to God capiendo stricte, and to saints capiendo large. A simple fellow, who served the sub-prior, thinking there was some great matter in hand, that made the doctors hold so many conferences together, asked him one day what the matter was; the sub-prior answering, Tom, that was the fellow's name, we cannot agree to whom the pater-noster should be said. He suddenly replied, To whom, Sir, should it be said, but unto God? Then said the sub-prior, what shall we do with the saints? He answered, Give them Aves and Creeds enow in the devil's name; for that may suffice them. The answer going abroad, many said, that he had given a wiser decision than all the doctors had done with all their distinctions.
↵

†
Knox's Hist. of Ref. p. 44. Spotswood.
↵

‡
Spotswood, Buchanan.
↵

*
The famous Scotch reformer, John Knox, calls James Melvil, p. 65, a man most gentle and most modest. It is very horrid, but at the same time somewhat amazing, to consider the joy and alacrity and pleasure, which that historian discovers in his narration of this assassination: And it is remarkable that in the first edition of his work, these words were printed on the margin of the page, The godly Fact and Words of James M•lvil. But the following editors retrenched them. Knox himself had no hand in the murder of Beaton; but he afterwards joined the assassins, and assi
•
led them in holding out the castle. See Keith's Hist. of the Ref. of Scotland, p. 13.

↵

†
Knox, p. 75. Spotswood, Buchanan.
↵

*
Sir John Hayward in Kenneth, p. 279. Heylin, p. 42.
↵

†
Hayward, Patten.
↵

*
Hollingshed, p. 985.
↵

*
Patten, Hollingshed, p. 986.
↵

*
Hollingshed, p. 992.
↵

†
Rymer, vol. XV. p. 164.
↵

‡
1 Edw. VI. c. 12.
↵

‖
1 Edw. VI. c.
•
.

↵

§
Ibid.
↵

*
Ibid.
↵

‡
1 Edw. VI.
〈…〉
.

↵

†
1 Edw. VI.
〈…〉
.

↵

‡
Heylin. p 48.
↵

‖
Antiq. Britan. p. 339.
↵

*
See Atterbury's Rights, &c. of an English convocation, p. 73.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. p. 59. Collier, vol. II. p. 241. Heylin, p. 55.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. II. p. 60. Collier, vol. II. p. 241.
〈◊〉
p

••

.
↵

§
Burnet, vol I
•
.

↵

*
Fuller, Heylin, Burnet.
↵

†
Beagué, hist. of the Campagnes, 1548 and 1549, p. 6.
↵

‡
Hollingshed, p. 993.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 46. Patten.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 83. Buchan. lib. XV. Keith, p. 55. Thuanus, lib. V. c. 15.
↵

†
Thuanus, lib. V. c. 15.
↵

‡
Stowe, p. 595. Hollingshed, p. 994.
↵

‖
Hayward, p. 201.
↵

*
Beaagué, p. 68. Knox, p. 81.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. p. 8
•
. Thuanus, lib. V.

•

. 15.
↵

‡
Hayward, p. 301.
•
eylin, p. 72. Camden. Thuanus, lib. VI.

•

. 5. Haynes, p. 69.
↵

‖
Haynes, p. 8
•
, 90.

↵

*
Haynes, p. 75.
↵

†

•
bid. 95, 96, 107, 108.

↵

‡
Haynes, p. 105, 106.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. II. Coll. 31. 2 & 3 Edw. VI. c. 18.
↵

*
2 &
•
Edw. VI. c. 1

•

.
↵

†

〈◊〉
vol II. p.

〈◊〉

↵

†
2 & 3 Edw. VI. cap. 1.
↵

‡
2 & 3 Edw. VI. cap. 21.
↵

*

2 & 3 Edw. VI. cap. 19. Another act, passed this session, takes notice in the preamble, that the city of York, formerly well inhabited, was now much decayed: Insomuch that many of the cures could not afford a competent maintenance to the incumbents. To remedy this inconvenience, the magistrates were empowered to unite as many parish•• as they thought proper. An ecclesiastical historian, Collier, vol. ii. p. 230, thinks, that this decay of York is chiefly to be ascribed to the dissolution of monasteries, by which the revenues fell into the hands of persons who lived at a distance.

A very grievous tax was imposed this session upon the whole stock and monied interest of the kingdom, and even upon its industry. It was a shilling in the pound yearly, during three years, on every person worth ten pounds or upwards: The double on aliens and denizons. These last, if above twelve years of age, and if worth less than twenty shillings, were to pay eight pence yearly. Every wether was to pay two pence yearly; every ewe three pence. The woolen manufacturers were to pay eight pence a pound on the value of all the cloth they made. These exorbitant taxes on money are a proof, that few people lived on the money lent out at interest: For this tax amounts to the half of the yearly income of all money-holders, during three years, estimating their interest at the rate allowed by law; and was too grievous to be born, if many persons had been affected by it. It is remarkable, that no tax at all was laid upon land this session. The profits of merchandise were commonly so high, that it was supposed it could bear this imposition. The most absurd part of the law seems to be the tax upon the woolen manufacture. See 2 & 3 Edw. VI. cap. 36. The subsequent Parliament repealed the tax on sheep and woolen cloth. 3 & 4 Edw. VI. cap. 23. But they continued the other tax a year longer. Ibid.

The clergy taxed themselves at six shillings in the pound to be paid in three years. This taxation was ratified in Parliament, which had been the common practice since the reformation, as if the clergy had no legislative power, even over themselves. See 2 & 3 Edw. VI. cap. 35.

↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. cap. 104.
↵

*

〈…〉
III. Rymer, tom. XV. p. 181.

↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. coll.
••
. Strype's

〈…〉

.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 112. Strype's Mem. Cranm. p. 181.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 1
••
.

↵

*
Strype, vol. II. Repository Q.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 115. Strype, vol. II. p. 171.
↵

*
Hayward, p. 292. Hollingshed, p. 1003. Fox, vol. II. p. 666. Mem. Cranm. p. 186.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 76.
↵

‡
Stow's Annals, p. 597. Hayward, p. 295.
↵

§
Hayward, p. 295, 296.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 76. Hollingshed, p. 1026.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 597. Hollingshed, 1030-31. Strype, Vol. II. p. 1
••
.

↵

†
Hayward, p. 297, 298, 299.
↵

*
Thuanus, lib. vi c. 6.
↵

†
Hayward, p. 300.
↵

‡
Le Thou, King Edward's Journal, Stow, p. 597.
↵

§
Burnet, vol. II. p. 132, 175.
↵

‖
Id. p. 133.
↵

*
Strype, vol▪ II. p. 181.
↵

†

•
b. p. 183.

↵

†
Heylin, p. 72, 73. Stowe's Survey of London. Hayward, p. 30
•
.

↵

‖
Stowe, p.
•
97,

•

98. Hollinshed, 10
•
7.
↵

*
Stowe, p. 600.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. book i. coll. 46. Hayward, p. 308. Stowe, p. 601. Hollingshed, p. 1059.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 85. Rymer, tom. XV. p. 226.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 84. Heyward, p. 3
•
9. Sto

•

e, p. 603.
↵

*
Heyward, p. 3
•
9.

↵

†

•
& 4 Edw. VI. c. 5.

↵

‡
Ibid. cap. 2.
↵

‖
Ibid. c. 13.
↵

*
Burnet▪ vol. II. p. 148. Heyward, 310, 311, 112. Rymer, vol. XV. p. 211.
↵

†
Heyward, p. 318. Heylin, p. 104. Rymer, tom. XV. p. 293.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 90.
↵

*
Collier, vol. II. p. 305. from the council books. Heylin, p. 99.
↵

†

〈◊〉
vol. II. p. 734, & seq. Burnet, Heylin, Collier.

↵

*
Goodwin de praesul. Angl. Heylin, p. 100.
↵

†
Collier, vol. II. p. 307. from the council books.
↵

‖
Wood▪ Hist. & Antiq▪ Oxon. lib. 1. p. 271, 272.
↵

§
Strype, vol. II▪ p. 249.
↵

‡
Fox, vol. II▪ Collier, Burnet.
↵

*
Heyward, p. 315.
↵

†
Fox, vol. III. p. 40.
↵

‖
Mem. Cranm. p.
〈◊〉
.

↵

*
Mem. Cranm. p. 289.
↵

†
Article xviii.
↵

*
Heyward, p. 326. Heylin, p. 108. Strype's Memorials, vol. II. p. 295.
↵

†
Heylin. p. 1
••
.

↵

*
Heylin, p. 112.
↵

*
Hayward, p. 320, 321, 322. Stowe, p. 60
•
. Hollingshed, p. 1▪ 67.

↵

†
Hayward, p. 324, 325.
↵

‡
Stowe, p.
•
08.

↵

*
5 & 6 Edw. VI.
•
. 1.

↵

†
Ib
•
20.

↵

‡
Hayward, p. 318.
↵

§
Paliamentary Hist. vol. III p. 258. Burnet, vol. II. p. 1
•
0.

↵

‖
5 & 6 Edw. VI. cap. 2.
↵

*
5 & 6 Edw.
•
I. cap. 3.

↵

†
Ib. cap. 3.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II. p.
〈◊〉
.

↵

*
Strype's Eccles. Memorials, vol. II. p. 391.
↵

*
7 Edw. VI.
••
p. 1

•

.
↵

†
Heylin, p.
〈…〉

↵

‡
Strype's Eccles. Mem. vol. II. p.
•
14.

↵

*
Heylin, p. 109. Stowe, 609.
↵

*
Fuller, book VIII. p. 2.
↵

†
C
•
anm. Mem. p.

〈◊〉

.
↵

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, UNDER THE HOUSE of TUDOR.
MARY.

CHAP. I.

Lady Jane Gray proclaimed Queen.—Deserted by the people.—The Queen proclaimed and acknowledged.—Northumberland executed. Catholic religion restored.—A Parliament.—Deliberations with regard to the Queen's marriage.—Queen's marriage with Philip.—Wyat's insurrection.—Suppressed.—Execution of lady Jane Gray.—A Parliament.—Philip's arrival in England.

THE title of the princess Mary to the crown, after the decease of her brother, was not liable to any considerable difficulty; and the objections started by the lady Jane's partizans, were new and unheard-of by the nation. Tho' all the protestants, and even many of the catholics, believed the marriage of Henry the eighth with Catherine of Arragon to be unlawful and invalid; yet as it had been contracted by the parties without any criminal intention, had been avowed by their parents, recognized by the nation, and seemed sounded on those principles of law and religion, which then prevailed, very few imagined, that their issue ought on that account to be regarded as illegitimate. A declaration to that purpose had indeed been extorted from the Parliament by the usual violence and caprice of Henry; but as that monarch had afterwards been induced to restore his daughter to the right of succession, her title was now become as legal and parliamentary as it was ever esteemed just and natural. The public had been long familiarized to these sentiments: During all the reign of Edward, the princess was considered as his lawful successor: And tho' the protestants dreaded the effects of her prejudices, the extreme hatred, universally entertained against the Dudleys[*], who, men foresaw, would, under the name of Jane, be the real sovereigns, was more than sufficient to counterballance, even with that party, the attachment to religion. This last attempt, to violate the order of succession, had displayed Northumberland's ambition and injustice in a full light; and when the people reflected on the long train of fraud, iniquity and cruelty, by which that project had been conducted; that the lives of the two Seymours, as well as the title of the princesses, had been sacrificed to it; they were moved by indignation to exert themselves in opposition to such criminal enterprizes. The general veneration also, paid to the memory of Henry the eighth, prompted the nation to defend the rights of his posterity; and the miseries of the antient civil wars were not so entirely forgotten, that men were willing, by a departure from the lawful heir, to incur the danger of the like bloodshed and confusion.

NORTHUMBERLAND, sensible of the opposition he must expect, had carefully concealed the destination made by the King; and in order to bring the two princesses into his power, he had had the precaution to engage the council, before Edward's death, to write to them in that prince's name, desiring their attendance, under pretext, that his infirm state of health required the assistance of their counsel and the consolation of their company[†]. Edward expired before their arrival; but Northumberland, in order to make the princesses fall into the share, kept the King's death still secret; and the lady Mary had already reached Hoddesden, within half a day's journey of the court. Happily, the earl of Arundel sent her private intelligence, both of her brother's death and of the conspiracy formed against her[‡]: She immediately made haste to retire; and arrived by quick journeys, first at Kenning-hall in Norfolk, then at Framlingham in Suffolk; where she proposed to embark and retire to Flanders, in case she should find it impossible to defend her right of succession. She wrote letters to the nobility and most considerable gentry in every county of England; commanding them to assist her in the defence of her crown and person. And she dispatched a message to the council; by which she notified to them, that her brother's death was no longer a secret to her, promised them pardon for past offences, and required them immediately to give orders for proclaiming her title in London[§].

NORTHUMBERLAND found that farther dissimulation was vain: He went to Sion-house[*], accompanied with the duke of Suffolk, the earl of Pembroke, and others of the nobility; and he approached the lady Jane, who resided there, with all the respect usually paid to the sovereign. Jane was, in a great measure,
Lady Jane Gray proclaimed Queen.

ignorant of all these transactions; and it was with equal grief and surprize, that she received intelligence of them[†]. She was a lady of the most amiable person, the most engaging disposition, the most accomplished parts; and being of an equal age with the late King, she had received all her education with him, and seemed even to possess a greater facility in acquiring every part of manly and polite literature. She had attained a knowlege of the Roman and Greek languages, beside modern tongues; had passed most of her time in an application to learning; and expressed a great indifference for other occupations and amusements usual with her sex and station. Roger Ascham, tutor to the lady Elizabeth, having at one time paid her a visit, found her employed in the reading of Plato, while the rest of the family were engaged in a party of hunting in the park; and upon his admiring the singularity of her choice, she told him, that she received more pleasure from that author than the others could reap from all their sport and gaity. Her heart, full of this passion for literature and the elegant arts, and of tenderness towards her husband, who was deserving of her affection, had never opened itself to the flattering allurements of ambition; and the information of her advancement to the throne was by no means agreeable to her. She even refused to accept the present; pleaded the preferable right of the two princesses; expressed her dread of the consequences attending an enterprize so dangerous, not to say so criminal; and desired to remain in that private station in which she was born. Overcome at last with the entreaties, rather than reasons, of her father and father-in-law, and above all of her husband, she submitted to their will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own judgment. It was then usual for the Kings of England, after their accession, to pass the first days in the Tower; and Northumberland immediately conveyed thither the new sovereign[‡]. All the counsellors were oblig•d to attend her to that fortress; and by this means became, in some measure, prisoners in the hands of Northumberland, whose will they were necessitated to obey. Orders were given by the council, to proclaim Jane throughout the kingdom; but these orders were executed only in London, and the neighbourhood. No applause ensued: The people heard the proclamation with silence and concern: Some even expressed their scorn and contempt: And one Pot, a vintner's prentice, was severely punished for this offence‖. The protestant teachers themselves, who were employed to convince the people of Jane's title, found their eloquence fruitless[*]; and Ridley, bishop of London, who preached a sermon to that purpose, wrought no effect upon his audience[†].

THE people of Suffolk, meanwhile, paid their attendance on Mary. As they were much attached to the reformed communion, they could not forbear, amidst their tenders of duty, to express their apprehension for the protestant religion; but when she assured them, that she never meant to change the laws of Edward[‡], they enlisted themselves in her cause with zeal and affection. The nobility and gentry flocked to her daily, and brought her reinforcement. The earls of Bath and Suffex, the eldest sons of lord Wharton and lord Mordaunt, Sir William Drury, Sir Henry Benningfield, Henry Jerningham, persons whose interests lay in the neighbourhood, appeared at the head of their tenants and retainers‖. Sir Edward Hastings, brother of the earl of Huntingdon, having received a commission from the council to make levies for the lady Jane in Buckinghamshire, carried over his troops, which amounted to four thousand men, and joined Queen Mary. Even a fleet, which had been sent by Northumberland to lie off the coast of Suffolk, being forced into Yarmouth by a storm, were engaged to declare for that princess.

NORTHUMBERLAND, who had hitherto been blinded by ambition, saw at last the danger gather round him, and knew not to what hand to turn himself. He had levied forces, which were assembled at London; but dreading the cabals of the courtiers and counsellors, whose compliance, he knew, had been entirely the result of fear or artifice, he was resolved to keep near the person of the lady Jane, and send Suffolk to command the army. But the counsellors, who wished to remove him[§], working on the filial tenderness of Jane, magnified to her the danger to which her father would be exposed, and represented, that Northumberland, who had gained reputation by suppressing formerly a rebellion in those parts, was much more proper to command in that enterprize. The Duke himself, who knew the slender capacity of Suffolk, began to think, that none but himself was able to encounter the present danger; and he agreed to take on him the command of the troops. The counsellors attended on him at his departure with the highest protestations of attachment, and none more than Arundel, his mortal enemy[**]. As he went along, he remarked the disaffection of the people, which foreboded a fatal issue to his ambitious hopes.
"Many," said he to lord Grey, who attended him, "come out to look at us, but I find not one who cries, God speed you [‡]."

THE duke had no sooner reached St. Edmond's-bury, than he found his army, which never exceeded six thousand men, too weak to encounter the Queen's‖, which amounted to double the number. He wrote to the council, desiring them to send him a reinforcement; and the counsellors immediately laid hold of this pretence to free themselves from their confinement. They left the Tower, as if
Lady Jane deserted by the people.

they meant to execute Northumberland's commands; but being assembled in Baynard's-castle, a house belonging to Pembroke, they deliberated concerning the method of shaking off his usurped tyranny. Arundel began the conference, by representing the injustice and cruelty of Northumberland, the exorbitancy of his ambition, the criminal enterprize which he had projected, and the guilt in which he had involved the whole council; and he asserted, that the only method of making atonement for their past offence, was by a prompt return to the duty which they owed their lawful sovereign[§]. This motion was seconded by Pembroke, who, clapping his hand to his sword, swore he was ready to fight any man who expressed himself of a contrary sentiment. The mayor and aldermen of London were immediately sent for, who discovered great alacrity in obeying the orders they received to proclaim Mary. The people expressed their approbation by shouts of applause. Even Suffolk, who commanded in the Tower, finding resistance vain, opened the gates, and declared for the Queen. The lady Jane, after wearing the vain pageantry of a crown during ten days, returned to a private life with much more satisfaction than she felt when the royalty was tendered to her[*]: And the messengers who were sent to Northumberland, with orders to lay down his arms, found that he had despaired of success, was deserted by all his followers, and had already proclaimed the Queen, with exterior ma•ks of joy and satisfaction[†].
The Queen proclaimed and acknowleged.

The people every where, on the Queen's approach to London, gave sensible expressions of their loyalty and attachment. And the lady Elizabeth met her at the head of a thousand horse, which that princess had levied, in order to support their joint title against the usurper[**].

THE Queen gave orders for taking into custody the duke of Northumberland, who fell on his knees to the earl of Ar•ndel that arrested him, and abjectly begged his life[††]. At the same time were committed, the earl of Warwic, his eldest son, Ambrose and Henry Dudley, two of his younger sons, Sir Andrew Dudley his brother, the marquess of Northampton, the earl of Huntingdon, Sir Thomas Palmer, and Sir John Gates. The Queen afterwards confined the duke of Suffolk, the lady Jane Gray, and lord Guilford Dudley. But Mary was desirous, in the beginning of her reign, to acquire popularity by the appearance of clemency; and because the counsellors pleaded constraint, as an excuse for their treason, she extended her pardon to most of them. Suffolk himself recovered his liberty; and he owed this indulgence, in a great measure, to the contempt entertained of his capacity. But the guilt of Northumberland was too great, as well as his ambition and courage too dangerous, to permit him to entertain any reasonable hopes of life. When brought to his trial, he only desired permission to ask two questions of the peers who were appointed to sit on his jury; whether a man could be guilty of treason who obeyed orders given him by the council under the great seal? and whether those who were involved in the same guilt with himself, could act as his judges? Being told, that the great seal of an usurper was no authority, and that persons who lay not under any sentence of attainder, were still innocent in the eye of the law, and might be admitted on any jury[§]; he acquiesced, and pleaded guilty. At his execution, he made profession of the catholic religion, and told the people, that they never would enjoy tranquillity
22 August. Northumberland executed.

till they returned to the faith of their ancestors: Whether that such were his real sentiments, which he had formerly concealed, from interest and ambition, or that he hoped, by this declaration, to render the Queen more favourable to his family[*]. Sir Thomas Palmer, and Sir John Gates, suffered with him; and this was all the blood spilt on account of so dangerous and criminal an enterprize against the rights of the sovereign. Sentence was pronounced against the lady Jane and lord Guilford; but without any present intention of putting it in execution. The youth and innocence of the persons, neither of whom had reached their seventeenth year, pleaded sufficiently in their favour.

WHEN Mary first arrived in the Tower, the duke of Norfolk, who had been detained prisoner during all the last reign; Courtney, son to the marquess of Exeter, who, without being charged with any crime, had been subjected to the same punishment ever since his father's attainder; Gardiner, Tonstal, and Bonner, who had been confined for their adherence to the catholic cause, appeared before her, and implored her clemency and protection[†]. They were all of them restored to their liberty, and immediately admitted to her confidence and favour▪ Norfolk's attainder, notwithstanding that it had passed in Parliament, was represented as null and invalid; because, among other informalities, no special matter had been alleged against him, except wearing a coat of arms, which he and his ancestors, without giving any offence, had always made use of in the face of the court and of the whole nation. Courtney received the title of earl of Devonshire; and tho' educated in such close confinement, that he was altogether unacquainted with the world, he soon acquired all the accomplishments of a courtier and a gentleman, and made a considerable figure during the few years which he lived after he recovered his liberty. Besides performing all those popular acts, which, tho' they only regarded individuals, were very acceptable to the nation, the Queen endeavoured to ingratiate herself with the public, by granting a general pardon, tho' with some exceptions, and by remitting the subsidy voted to her brother in the last Parliament‖.

THE joy arising from the succession of the lawful heir, and from the gracious demeanour of the sovereign, hindered not the people from being agitated with great anxiety concerning the state of religion; and as the bulk of the nation inclined to the protestant communion, apprehensions were generally entertained of the principles and prejudices of the new Queen. The legitimacy of Mary's birth had appeared to be somewhat connected with the papal authority; and as that princess was educated with her mother, she had imbibed the strongest attachment to the catholic communion, and the highest aversion to those new tenets, whence, she believed, all the misfortunes of her family had originally sprung. The discouragements which she lay under from her father, tho' at last they brought her to comply with his will, tended still more to increase her disgust to the reformers; and the vexations which the protector and the council gave her, during Edward's reign, had no other effect than to confirm her farther in her prejudices. Naturally of a four and obstinate temper, and irritated by contradictions and mis•ortunes, she possessed all the qualities fitted to compose a bigot; and her extreme ignorance rendered her utterly incapable of doubt in her own belief, or of indulgence to the opinions of others. The nation, therefore, had great reason to dread, not only the abolition, but the persecution of the established religion from the zeal of Mary; and it was not long before she discovered her intentions.

Catholic religion
〈◊〉

GARDINER, Bonner, Tonstal, Day, Heath, Vesey, were reins•ated in their •ees, either by a direct act of power, or, what is nearly the same, by the sentence of commissioners, who were appointed to review their process and condemnation. Tho' the bishopric of Durham had been dissolved by authority of Parliament, the Queen erected it anew by letters-patent, and replaced Tonstal in his regalities as well as in his revenue. Under pretence of discouraging controversy, she silenced, by her prerogative, all the preachers throughout England, except such as should obtain a particular licence[*]; and it was easy to forsee that none but the catholics would be favoured with this privilege. Holgate, archbishop of York, Coverdale, bishop of Exeter, Audley of London, and Hooper of Glocester, were thrown into prison; whither old Latimer also was sent soon after[†]. The zealous bishops and priests were encouraged in their forwardness to revive the mass, tho' contrary to the present laws. Judge Hales, who had discovered such constancy in defending the Queen's title, lost all his merit by an opposition to those illegal practices; and being committed to custody, was treated with such severity, that he fell into frenzy, and killed himself[‡]. The men of Suffolk were brow-beaten, when they presumed to plead the promise which the Queen, when they inlisted themselves in her service, had given them, of maintaining the reformed religion: One, in particular, was set in the pillory, because he had been too peremptory in recalling to her memory the engagements which she had taken on that occasion. And tho' the Queen still promised, in a public declaration before the council, to tolerate those who differed from her‖, men foresaw, that this engagement, like the former, would prove but a feeble security, when set in opposition to religious prejudices.

THE merits of Cranmer towards the Queen, during the reign of Henry, had been considerable; and he had successfully employed his good offices in mitigating the severe prejudices which that monarch had entertained against her[**]. But the active part which he bore in promoting her mother's divorce, as well as in conducting the reformation, had made him the object of her hatred; and tho' Gardiner had been equally forward in solliciting and defending the divorce, he had afterwards made sufficient atonement by his sufferings in de•ence of the catholic cause. The primate, therefore, had reason to expect little favour during the present reign; but it was by his own indiscreet zeal, that he brought on himself the first violence and persecution. A report being spread, that Cranmer, in order to make his court to the Queen, had promised to officiate in the Latin service, the archbishop, to wipe off this aspersion, drew up a manifesto in his own defence. Among other expressions, he there said, that as the devil was a ly•r from the beginning, and the father of lies, so he had at this time stirred up his servants to persecute Christ and his true religion: That that infernal spirit now endeavoured to restore the Latin satisfactory masses, a thing of his own invention and device; and in order to effectuate his purpose, had falsely made use of Cranmer's name and authority: And that the mass is not only without foundation, either in the scriptures or the practice of the primitive church, but likewise discovers a plain contradiction to antiquity and the inspired writings, and is besides replete with many horrid blasphemies[*]. On the publication of this inflammatory paper, Cranmer was thrown into prison, and was tried for the part which he had acted, in concurring with the lady Jane, and opposing the Queen's accession. Sentence of high treason was pronounced against him; and tho' his guilt was shared with the whole privy council, and was even less than that of most of the others, this sentence, however severe, must be allowed entirely legal. The execution of it, however, did not follow; and Cranmer was reserved for a more cruel punishment.

PETER Martyr, seeing a persecution gathering against the reformers, desired leave to withdraw[†]; and while some zealous catholics moved for his commitment, Gardiner both pleaded, that he had come over by an invitation from the government, and generously furnished him with supplies for his journey: But as bigotted zeal still increased, his wife's body, which had been interred at Oxford, was afterwards dug up by public order, and buried in a dung-hill[‡]. The bones of Bucer and Fagius, two foreign reformers, were about the same time committed to the flames at Cambridge‖. John A-lasco was first silenced, and then ordered to depart the kingdom with his congregation. The greater part of the foreign protestants followed him; and the nation thereby lost many useful hands for arts and manufactures. Several English protestants also took shelter in foreign parts, and every thing bore a dismal aspect for the reformation.

DURING this revolution of the court, no protection was expected by the protestants
5 October.

from the Parliament, which was summoned to assemble. A zealous reformer{inverted †}
A Parliament.

pretends, that great violence and iniquity were used in the elections; but besides that the authority of this writer is inconsiderable, that practice, as the necessities of government seldom required it, had not hitherto been often employed in England. There still remained such numbers devoted, by opinion or affection, to many principles of the ancient religion, that the authority of the crown was able to give such candidates the prevalence in most elections; and all those who scrupled compliance with the court religion, rather declined taking a seat in the house, which, while it rendered them obnoxious to the Queen, could afterwards afford them no protection against the violence of prerogative. It soon appeared, therefore, that a majority of the commons would be obsequious to Mary's designs; and as the peers were mostly attached to the court, from interest or expectation, little opposition was expected from that quarter.

IN opening the Parliament, the court showed a very signal contempt of the laws, by celebrating, before the two houses, a mass of the Holy Ghost, in the Latin tongue, attended with all the ancient rites and ceremonies, tho' abolished by act of parliament[*]. Taylor, bishop of Lincoln, having refused to kneel at this service, was very severely handled, and was violently thrust out of the house[†]. The Queen, however, still retained the title of supreme head of the church of England; and it was generally pretended, that the intention of the court was only to restore religion to the same condition in which it had been left by Henry; but that the other abuses of popery, which were chiefly grievous to the nation, would never be revived.

THE first bill passed by the Parliament, was of a very popular nature, and abolished every species of treason which was not contained in the statute of Edward the third, and every species of felony which did not subsist before the first of Henry the eighth[‡]. The Parliament next declared the Queen to be legitimate, ratified the marriage of Henry with Catherine of Arragon, and annulled the divorce pronounced by Cranmer‖, whom they greatly blamed on that account. No mention, however, is made of the pope's authority, as any ground of the marriage. The statutes of King Edward with regard to religion, were repealed by one vote[§]; and thereby the national religion was replaced on the same footing on which it stood at the death of Henry. The attainder of the duke of Norfolk was reversed; and this act of justice was much more reasonable than the declaring that attainder invalid, without farther authority. Most of the clauses of the riot act, passed in the late reign, were revived: A step which eluded, in a great measure, the popular statute enacted at the first meeting of the Parliament.

NOTWITHSTANDING the compliance of the two houses with the Queen's will, they had still a reserve in certain articles; and her choice of a husband was, in particular, of such importance to national interest, that they were determined not to submit tamely, in that respect, to her will and inclination. There were three marriages[*], concerning which it was supposed that Mary deliberated after her accession to the crown. The first person proposed to her, was Courtney, earl of Devonshire, who, being an Englishman, nearly allied to the crown, could not fail to be acceptable to the nation; and as he was of an engaging person and address, he had gained visibly on the Queen's affections, and hints were dropt him of her favourable dispositions towards him[†]. But that nobleman neglected these overtures; and seemed rather to attach himself to the lady Elizabeth, whose youth, and agreeable conversation, he preferred to all the power and grandeur of her sister. This choice occasioned a great coldness of Mary towards Devonshire; and made her break out in a declared animosity against Elizabeth. The ancient quarrel between their mothers had sunk deep into the malignant heart of the Queen; and after the declaration made by Parliament in favour of Catherine's marriage, she wanted not a pretence for representing the birth of her sister as illegitimate. The attachment of Elizabeth to the reformed religion offended Mary's bigotry; and as the young princess had made some difficulty of disguising her sentiments, very violent menaces had been employed to bring her to compliance. But when the Queen found that Elizabeth had obstructed her views in a point, which, perhaps, touched her still more nearly, her resentment, excited by pride, knew no longer any bounds; and the princess was visibly exposed to the greatest danger[‡].

CARDINAL Pole, who had never taken any but deacon's orders, was another party proposed to the Queen; and there appeared many reasons to induce her to make choice of this prelate. The high character of Pole for virtue and generosity; the great regard paid him by the catholic church, of which he had nearly reached the highest dignity on the death of Paul the third‖; the Queen's affection for the countess of Salisbury, his mother, who had once been her governess; the violent animosity to which he had been exposed on account of his attachment to the Romish communion; all these considerations had a powerful influence on Mary. But the cardinal was now in the decline of life; and having contracted habits of study and retirement, he was represented as unqualified for the bustle of a court, and the hurry of business[§]. The Queen, therefore, dropt all views of that alliance: But as she entertained a great regard for Pole's wisdom and virtue, she still proposed to reap the benefit of his advice in the administration of her government. She secretly entered into a negociation with Commendone, an agent of cardinal Dandino, legate at Brussels; she sent assurances to the pope, then Julius the third, of her earnest desire to reconcile herself and her kingdoms to the holy see; and she desired that Pole might be appointed legate for the performance of that pious office[*].

THESE two marriages being rejected, the Queen cast her eye towards the emperor's family, from which her mother was descended, and which, during her greatest distresses, had always afforded her countenance and protection. Charles the fifth, who a few years before was almost absolute master of Germany, had exercised his power in such an arbitrary manner, that he gave extreme disgust to the nation, who apprehended the total extinction of their liberties and privileges from the encroachments of that monarch[†]. Religion had served him as a pretence for his usurpations; and from the same principle he met with that opposition which overthrew his grandeur, and dashed all his ambitious hopes. Maurice, elector of Saxony, enraged that the landgrave of Hesse, who, by his advice, and on his assurances, had put himself into the emperor's hands, should be unjustly detained prisoner, formed a secret conspiracy among the protestant princes; and covering his intentions with the most artificial disguises, he suddenly marched his forces against Charles, and narrowly missed becoming master of his person. The protestants flew to arms in every quarter; and their insurrection, aided by an invasion from France, reduced the emperor to such extremity, that he was obliged to submit to articles of peace, which ensured the independency of Germany. To retrieve his honour, he made an attack on France; and laying siege to Metz, with an army of an hundred thousand men, he conducted the enterprize in person, and seemed determined, at all hazards, to succeed in an undertaking which had attracted the attention of all Europe. But the duke of Guise, who defended M•tz, with a garrison composed of the bravest nobility of France, exerted such vigilance, conduct, and valour, that the siege was protracted to the depth of winter; and the emperor found it dangerous to persevere any longer. He retired with the remains of his army, into the Low Countries, much dejected with that reverse of fortune which, in his declining years, had so fatally overtaken him.

NO so•ner did Charles hear of the death of Edward, and the accession of his kinswoman, Mary, to the crown of England, than he formed the scheme of acquiring that kingdom to his family; and he hoped, by this incident, to compensate all the losses which he had suffered in Germany. His son, Philip, who was a widower, had but one son by his former marriage; and tho' he was only twenty-seven years of age, eleven years younger than the Queen, this objection, it was thought, might easily be overlooked, and there was no reason to despair of her having still a numerous issue. The emperor, therefore, immediately sent over an agent to signify his intentions to Mary, who, pleased with the support of so powerful an alliance, and glad to unite herself more closely with her mother's family, to which she was ever strongly attached, readily embraced the proposal. Norfolk, Arundel, and Paget, gave their advice for the match: And Gardiner, who was become prime minister, and who had been promoted to the office of chancellor, finding how Mary's inclinations lay, seconded the project of the Spanish alliance; and represented, both to her and the emperor, the necessity of stopping all farther innovations in religion, till the completion of the marriage. He observed, that the Parliament, amidst all their compliances, had discovered evident symptoms of jealousy, and seemed at present determined, to grant no further concessions in favour of the catholic religion: That tho' they might make a sacrifice to their sovereign of some speculative principles, which they did not well comprehend, or of some rites, which seemed not of any immediate importance, they had imbibed such strong prejudices against the pretended usurpations and exactions of the court of Rome, that they would with great difficulty be again brought to submit to its authority: That the danger of making a resumption of the abbey lands, would alarm the nobility and gentry, and induce them to encourage the prepossessions which were but too general among the people, against the doctrine and worship of the catholic church: That much pains had been taken to prejudice the nation against the Spanish alliance; and if that point was urged, at the same time with further changes in religion, it would hazard a general revolt and insurrection: That the marriage, being once compleated, would give authority to the Queen's measures, and enable her afterwards to forward that pious work, in which she was engaged: And that it was even necessary previously to reconcile the people to the marriage, by rendering the conditions extremely favourable to the English, and such as would seem to ensure to them their independency, and the entire possession of their ancient laws and privileges[*].

THE emperor, well acquainted with the prudence and experience of Gardiner, assented to all these reasons; and he endeavoured to temper the zeal of Mary, by representing the necessity of proceeding gradually in the great work of converting the nation. Hearing that cardinal Pole, more sincere in his religious opinions, and less guided by the maxims of civil policy, after having sent opposite advice to the Queen, had set out on his journey to England, where he was to exercise his legantine commission; he thought proper to stop him at Dillinghen, a town on the Danube; and he afterwards obtained Mary's consent for this detention. The negociation for the marriage mean-while proceeded apace; and Mary's intentions to espouse Philip became generally known to the nation. The commons, who hoped that they had gained the Queen by the concessions which they had already made, were alarmed to hear, that she was resolved to contract a
6th of December.

foreign alliance; and they sent a committee to remonstrate against that dangerous measure. To prevent farther applications of the same kind, she thought proper to dissolve them.

A CONVOCATION had been summoned at the same time with the Parliament; and the majority here also appeared to be of the court religion. An offer was very frankly made by the Romanists, to dispute concerning the points controverted between the two communions; and as transubstantiation was the article which, of all others, they esteemed the clearest, and founded on the most irresistible argument, they chose to try their strength by defending it. The protestants pushed the dispute as far as the clamour and noise of their antagonists would permit; and they fondly imagined, that they had obtained some advantage, when, in the course of the debate, they obliged the catholics to avow, that, according to their doctrine, Christ had, in his last supper, held himself in his hand, and had swallowed and eat himself[*]. This triumph, however, was confined only to their own party: The Romanists maintained, that their champions had clearly the better of the day; that their adversaries were blind and obstinate heretics; that nothing but the most extreme depravity of heart could induce men to dispute such self-evident principles; and that the severest punishments were due to their perverse wickedness. So pleased were they with their superiority in this favorite point, that they soon after renewed the dispute at Oxford; and to show, that they feared no force of learning or capacity, where reason was so evidently on their side, they sent thither Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, under a guard, to try whether these renowned controversialists could find any appearance of argument to defend their baffled principles[†]. The issue of the debate was very different from what it appeared to be a few years before, in a famous conference held at the same place during the reign of Edward.

AFTER the Parliament and convocation were broke up, the new laws with regard to religion, tho' they had been anticipated, in most places, by the zeal of the catholics, countenanced by the government, were still more openly put in execution: The mass was every where re-established; and marriage was declared to be incompatible with any spiritual office. It has been asserted by some writers, that three fourths of the clergy▪ were, at this time, deprived of their livings; tho' other historians, more accurate[†], have esteemed the number of sufferers far short of this proportion. Could any principles of law, justice or reason be attended to, where superstition predominates; the priests would never have been expelled for their past marriages, which at that time were permitted by the laws of the kingdom. A visitation was appointed, in order to restore more perfectly the mass and the antient rites. Among other articles the commissioners were enjoined to forbid the oath of supremacy to be taken by the clergy on their receiving any benefice[‡]. It is to be observed, that this oath had been established by the laws of Henry the eighth, which were still in force.

THIS violent and sudden change of religion inspired the protestants with great discontent; and even affected indifferent spectators with concern, by the hardships, to which so many individuals were on that account exposed. But the
Queen's marriage with Philip.

Spanish match was a point of more general concern, and diffused universal apprehensions for the liberty and independance of the nation. To obviate all clamour, the articles of marriage were drawn as favourable as possible for the interest and security, and even grandeur of England. It was agreed, that tho' Philip should have the title of King, the administration should be entirely in the Queen; that no foreigner should be capable of enjoying any office in the kingdom; that no innovation should be made in the English laws, customs and privileges; that Philip should not carry the Queen abroad without her consent, nor any of her children without the consent of the nobility; that sixty thousand pounds a year should be settled on her as her jointure; that the male issue of this marriage should inherit, together with England, both Burgundy and the Low Countries; and that, if Don Carlos, Philip's son by his former marriage, should die and his line be extinct, the Queen's issue, whether male or female, should inherit Spain, Sicily, Milan, and all the other dominions of Philip[*]. Such was the treaty of
1
•

th January.marriage signed by count Egmont, and four other ambassadors sent over to England by the emperor.

THESE articles, when published, gave no satisfaction to the nation: It was universally said, that the emperor, in order to g•t possession of England, would verbally agree to any terms; and the greater advantage there appeared in the conditions which he granted, the more certainly might it be concluded, that he had no serious intention of observing them: That the usual fraud and ambition of that monarch might assure the nation of such a conduct; and his son Philip, while he inherited these vices from his father, added to them tyranny, sullenness, pride, and barbarity, more dangerous vices of his own: That England would become a province, and a province to a kingdom which usually exercised the most violent authority over all her dependant dominions: That the Netherlands, Milan, Sicily, Naples groaned under the burthen of Spanish tyranny; and throughout all the new conquests in America there had been displayed scenes of unrelenting cruelty, hitherto unknown in the history of mankind: That the inquisition was a tribunal invented by that tyrannical nation; and would infallibly, with all their other laws and institutions, be introduced into England: And that the divided sentiments of the people with regard to religion would subject multitudes to this iniquitous tribunal, and would reduce the whole nation to the most abject servitude[*].

THESE complaints, being diffused thro' the whole people, prepared the nation for a rebellion; and had any foreign power given them encouragement, or any great man appeared to head them; the consequences might have proved fatal to the Queen's authority. But the King of France, tho' engaged in hostilities with the emperor, refused to concur in any proposal for an insurrection; lest he should afford Mary a pretence for declaring war against him. And the more prudent part of the nobility thought, that, as the evils of the Spanish alliance were only dreaded at a distance, matters were not yet fully prepared for a general revolt. Some persons, however, more turbulent than the rest, believed, that it would be safer to prevent than to redress grievances; and they framed a conspiracy to rise
Wiat's insurrection.

in arms, and declare against the Queen's marriage with Philip. Sir Thomas Wiat proposed to raise Kent, Sir Peter Carew, Devonshire; and they engaged the duke of Suffolk, by the hopes of recovering the crown for the lady Jane, to attempt raising the midland counties[†]. Carew's impatience or apprehensions engaged him to break the concert, and to rise in arms before the day appointed: He was soon suppressed by the earl of Bedford, and obliged to fly into France. On this intelligence, Suffolk, dreading an arrest, suddenly left the town, with his brothers, the lord Thomas, and lord Leonard Gray; and endeavoured to raise the people in the counties of Warwic and Leicester; where his interest lay: But he was so closely followed by the earl of Huntingdon, at the head of 300 horse, that he was obliged to disperse his retainers, and being discovered in his retreat, he was led prisoner to London[‡]. Wiat was at first more successful in his attempt; and having published a declaration at Maidstone in Kent, against the Queen's evil counsellors and against the Spanish match, without any mention of religion, the people began to gather under his standard. The duke of Norfolk with Sir Henry Jernegan was sent against him, at the head of the guards and some other troops, reinforced with 500 Londoners commanded by Bret: And he came within sight of the rebels at Rochester, where they had fixed their head quarters. Sir George Harper here pretended to desert from them; but having secretly gained Bret, these two persons so wrought on the Londoners, that that whole body deserted to Wiat, and declared that they would not contribute to enslave their native country. Norfolk, dreading the contagion of this example, immediately retreated with his troops and took shelter in London[*].

AFTER this proof of the dispositions of the people, especially of the Londoners, who were mostly protestants, Wiat was encouraged to proceed; and he led his forces to Southwark, where he required of the Queen, that she should put the Tower into his hands, should deliver four counsellors as hostages, and in order to ensure the liberty of the nation, immediately marry an Englishman. Finding that the bridge was secured against him, and that the city was overawed, he marched up to Kingston, where he passed the river with 4000 men; and returning towards London, hoped to encourage his partizans, who had engaged to declare for him. He had imprudently wasted so much time at Southwark, and in his march from Kingston, that the critical season, on which all popular commotions depend, was entirely lost; and tho' he entered Westminster without resistance, his followers, finding that no person of note joined him, insensibly sell off, and he was at last seized near Temple-Bar by Sir Maurice Berkley[†]. Above seventy persons suffered for this rebellion: Four hundred were
6th February.

conducted before the Queen with ropes about their necks; and falling on their
Insurrection suppressed.

knees, received a pardon, and were dismissed. Wiat was condemned and executed; and as it had been reported, that, at his examination, he had accused the lady Elizabeth and the earl of Devonshire, he took care on the scaffold, before the whole people, fully to acquit them of having any share in the rebellion.

THE lady Elizabeth had been, during some time, treated with great harshness by her sister; and many studies instances of discouragement and disrespect had been practised against her. She was ordered to take place at court after the countess of L•nox and the dutchess of Suffolk, as if she were not legitimate, of the royal blood: Her friends were discountenanced on every occasion: And while her virtues, which were now become very eminent, drew to her the attendance of all the young nobility, and rendered her the favourite of the nation, the malevolence of the Queen still discovered itself every day by fresh symptoms, and obliged the princess to retire into the country. Mary seized the opportunity of this rebellion; and hoping to involve her sister in some appearance of guilt, sent for her under a strong guard, committed her to the Tower, and ordered her to be very strictly examined by the council. But the public declaration made by Wiat rendered it impracticable to employ against her any false evidence, which might have offered; and the princess made so good a defence, that the Queen found herself under a necessity of dismissing her[*]. In order to send her out of the kingdom, a marriage was proposed to her with the duke of Savoy; and when she declined giving her consent, she was committed to custody, under a very strong guard, at Wodestoke. The earl of Devonshire, tho' equally innocent, was confined in Fortheringay castle.

BUT this rebellion proved still more fatal to the lady Jane Gray, as well as to her husband: The duke of Suffolk's guilt was imputed to her; and tho' the insurgents and malecontents seemed chiefly to rest their hopes on the lady Elizabeth and the earl of Devonshire, the Queen, incapable of generosity or clemency, was determined to remove every person, from whom the least danger could be apprehended. Warning was given the lady Jane to prepare for death; a doom which she had long expected, and which the innocence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered no unwelcome news to her. The Queen's bigotted zeal, under colour of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send divines, who molested her with perpetual disputation; and even a reprieve of three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded, during that time, to pay, by a timely conversion, some regard to her eternal welfare. The lady Jane had presence of mind, in those melancholy circumstances, not only to desend her religion by all the topics then in use, but also to write a letter to her sister[†]in the Greek language; in which, besides sending her a copy of the scriptures in that tongue, she exhorted her to maintain, in every
12th February

fortune, a like steddy perseverance. On the day of her execution, her husband, the lord Guilford, desired permission to see her; but she refused her consent, and sent him word, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would too much unbend their minds from that constancy, which their approaching end required of them: Their separation, she said, would be only for a moment; and they would soon rejoin each other in a scene, where their affections would be for ever united, and where death, disappointment, and misfortunes could no longer have access to them, or disturb their eternal felicity[‡].

IT had been intended to execute the lady Jane and lord Guilford together on the same scaffold at Tower-hill; but the council, dreading the compassion of the people for their youth, beauty, innocence, and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave directions that she should be beheaded within the verge of the Tower.
Execution of lady Jane Gray.

She saw her husband led to execution; and having given him from the window some token of her remembrance, she waited with tranquillity till her own appointed hour should bring her to a like fate. She even sav• his headless body carried back in a cart; and found herself more confirmed by the reports, which she heard of the constancy of his end, than shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John Gage, constable of the Tower, when he led her to execution, desired her to bestow on him some small present, which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her: She gave him her table-book, where she had just wrote three sentences on seeing her husband's dead body; one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English[*]. The purport of them was, that human justice was against his body, but the divine mercy would be favourable to his soul; and that if her fault deserved punishment, her youth at least, and her imprudence were worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity, she trusted, would show her favour. On the scaffold, she made a speech to the bye-standers, where the mildness of her disposition led her to take the blame entirely on herself, without uttering one complaint against the severity, with which she had been treated. She said, that her offence was not the having laid her hand upon the crown, but the not rejecting it with sufficient constancy: That she had less erred thro' ambition than thro' reverence to her parents, whom she had been taught to respect and obey: That she willingly received death, as the only satisfaction which she could now make to the injured state; and tho' her infringement of the laws had been constrained, she would show, by her voluntary submission to their sentence, that she was desirous to attone for that disobedience, into which too much silial piety had betrayed her: That she had justly deserved this punishment for being made the instrument, tho' the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others: And that the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be useful, by proving that innocence excuses not great misdeeds, if they tend any way to the destruction of the commonwealth. After uttering these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women; and with a steddy serene countenance submitted herself to the executioner[†].

THE duke of Suffolk was tried, condemned, and executed soon after; and would have met with more compassion, had not his temerity been the cause of his daughter's untimely death. The lord Thomas Gray lost his life for the same crime. Sir Nicholas Throcmorton was tried in Guildhall; but there appearing no satisfactory evidence against him, he was able, by making an admirable defence, to obtain a verdict of the jury in his favour. The Queen was so enraged at this disappointment, that, instead of releasing him as the law required, she recommitted him to the Tower, and kept him in close confinement during some years. But her resentment stopped not here: The jury, being summoned before the council, were all of them sent to prison, and afterwards fined, some of them a thousand pounds, others two thousand a-piece[*]. This illegal violence proved fatal to several, among others to Sir John Throcmorton, brother to Sir Nicholas, who was condemned on no better evidence than had been formerly rejected. The Queen filled the Tower and all the prisons with nobility and gentry, whom their interest with the people, rather than any appearance of guilt, had made the objects of her suspicion. And finding, that she was become extremely odious to the nation, she was resolved to disable them from resistance, by ordering general musters, and directing the commissioners to seize their arms, and lay them up in forts and castles.

THO' the government laboured under so general an odium, the Queen's authority had received such an increase from the suppression of Wiat's rebellion, that the ministry hoped to find a very compliant disposition in the new Parliament, which was summoned to assemble. The emperor also, in order to facilitate the
A Parliament. 5th April.

same end, had borrowed no less a sum than 400,000 pounds which he had sent over to England, to be distributed in bribes and pensions among the members: A pernicious practice, of which there had not hitherto been any instance in England. And not to give the public any alarm with regard to the church lands, the Queen, notwithstanding her bigotry, resumed her legal title of supreme head of the church, which she had dropped three months before. Gardiner, the chancellor, opened the session by a speech; in which he asserted the Queen's hereditary title to the crown; maintained her right to choose a husband for herself; he observed how proper an use she had made of that right, by preferring an old ally, descended from the house of Burgundy; and remarked the failure of Henry the eighth's posterity, of whom there now remained none but the Queen and the lady Elizabeth. He added, that, in order to obviate the inconveniences, conveniences, which might arise from different pretenders, it was necessary to invest the Queen, by law, with a power of disposing of the crown, and of appointing her successor: A power, he said, which was not to be regarded as a new thing in England, since it had formerly been conferred on Henry the eighth[†].

THE Parliament were much disposed to gratify the Queen in all her desires; but when the liberty, independency, and very being of the nation were brought into such visible danger, they could not by any means be brought to compliance. They knew both the inveterate hatred which she bore the lady Elizabeth, and her devoted attachment to the house of Austria: They were acquainted with her extreme bigotry, which would lead her to postpone all considerations of justice or national interest to the establishment of the catholic religion: They remarked, that Gardiner had carefully avoided, in his speech, the giving to Elizabeth the appellation of the Queen's sister; and they thence concluded, that a design was formed of excluding her as illegitimate: They expected, that Mary, if invested with such a power as she required, would make a will in her husband's favour, and thereby render England for ever a province of the Spanish monarchy: And they were the more alarmed with these projects, when they heard, that Philip's descent from the house of Lancaster was carefully insisted on, and that he was publickly represented as the true and only heir by right of inheritance.

THE Parliament, therefore, aware of their danger, were determined to keep at a distance from the precipice, which lay before them. They could not avoid ratifying the articles of marriage[*], which were drawn very favourable for England; but they declined passing any such law as the chancellor pointed out to them: They would not so much as declare it treason to imagine or attempt the death of the Queen's husband, while she was alive; and a bill introduced for that purpose was laid aside after the first reading. The more effectually to cut off Philip's hopes of exerting any authority in England, they passed a law, where they declared,
"that her majesty as their only Queen, should solely and as a sole Queen, enjoy the crown and sovereignty of her realms, with all the preeminences, dignities, and rights thereto belonging, in as large and ample a manner after her marriage as before, without any title or claim accruing to the prince of Spain, either as tenant by courtesy of the realm, or by any other means[‡]."

A LAW passed in this Parliament for re-er•cting the bishopric of Durham, which had been dissolved by the last Parliament of Edward[§]. The Queen had already, by an exertion of her absolute power, put Tonstal in possession of that see: But tho' it was usual at that time for the crown to assume authority which might seem entirely legislative, it was always esteemed more safe and satisfactory to procure the sanction of Parliament. Bills were introduced for suppressing erroneous opinions contained in books, and for reviving the law of the six articles, together with those against the Lollards, against heresy and erroneous preaching: But none of these laws could pass the two houses. A proof, that the Parliament had reserves even in their concessions with regard to religion; about which they seem to have been less scrupulous. The Queen, therefore, finding that they
5th May.

would not serve all her purposes, finished the session by dissolving them.

MARY'S thoughts were now entirely employed about receiving Don Philip, whose arrival she hourly expected. This princess, who had lived so many years in a very reserved and private manner, without any prospect or hopes of a husband, was so smit with affection for her young spouse, whom she had never seen, that she waited with the utmost impatience for the completion of the marriage; and every obstacle was to her a source of anxiety and discontent[*]. She complained of Philip's delays as affected; and she could not conceal her vexation, that, tho' she brought him a kingdom for a dowry, he treated her with such neglect, that he had never yet favoured her with a single letter. Her fondness was but the more encreased by this supercilious treatment; and when she found that her subjects had entertained the greatest aversion for the event, to which she directed her fondest wishes, she made the whole English nation the object of her resentment. A squadron, under the command of lord Effingham, had been fitted out to convoy Philip from Spain, where he then resided; but the admiral informing her, that the discontents ran very high among the seamen, and that it was not safe for Philip to entrust himself into their hands, she gave orders to dismiss them. She then dreaded, that the French fleet, being masters of the sea, might intercept her husband; and every rumour of danger, every blast of wind, threw her into panics and convulsions. Her health, and even her understanding, were visibly impaired by this extreme impatience; and she was struck with a new apprehension, left her person, impaired by time, and blasted by sickness, should render her less acceptable to her future spouse. Her glass discovered to her how hagard she was become, and when she remarked the decay of her person, she knew not whether she ought more to desire or apprehend the arrival of Philip.

AT last came the moment so impatiently expected; and news were brought the Queen of Philip's arrival at Southampton[*]. A few days after, they were married in Westminster; and having made a pompous entry into London, where
19th July.

Philip displayed his wealth with great ostentation, she carried him to Windsor,
Philip's arrival in England.

the palace in which they afterwards resided. The prince's behaviour was ill calculated to cure the prejudices, which the English nation had entertained against him. He was distant and reserved in his address; took no notice of the salutes even of the most considerable noblemen; and so entrenched himself in forms and ceremonies, that he was in a manner inaccessible[†]: But this circumstance rendered him the more acceptable to the Queen, who desired to have no company but her husband's, and who was impatient when she met with any interruption to her fondness. The shortest absence gave her vexation; and when he showed civilities to any other woman, she could not conceal her jealousy and resentment.

THE Queen soon found, that Philip's ruling passion was ambition; and that the only method of gratifying him and securing his affections was to render him master of England. The interest and liberty of her people were considerations of small moment, in comparison of her obtaining this favourite point. She summoned a new Parliament, in hopes of finding them entirely compliant; and that she might acquire the greater authority over them, she imitated the precedent of the former reign, and wrote circular letters directing a proper choice of members[‡]. The zeal of the catholics, the influence of Spanish gold, the
12th November.

powers of prerogative, the discouragement of the gentry, particularly of the protestants; all these causes, seconding the intrigues of Gardiner, had procured her a house of commons which was, in a great measure, to her satisfaction; and it was thought, from the disposition of the nation, that she might now safely omit, in her summons of the Parliament, the title of supreme bead of the church▪ tho' inseparably annexed by law to the crown of England[§]. Cardinal Pole was arrived in Flanders, invested with legantine power from the pope: In order to prepare the way for his arrival in England, the Parliament passed an act, reversing his attainder, and restoring his blood; and the Queen dispensing with the old statute of provisors, granted him permission to act a▪ legate. The cardinal came over to London; and after being introduced to the King and Queen, he invited the Parliament to reconcile themselves and the kingdom to the apostolic see, from which they had been so long and so unhappily separated. This message was taken in good part; and both houses voted an address to Philip and Mary, acknowleging that they had been guilty of a most horrible defection from the true church; professing a sincere repentance for their past transgressions; declaring their resolution to repeal all laws enacted in prejudice of the church of Rome; and praying their majesties, that since they were happily uninfected with that criminal schism, they would intercede with the holy father for their absolution and forgiveness‖. Their request was easily granted. The legate, in name of his holiness, gave the Parliament and kingdom absolution, freed them from all censures, and received them again into the bosom of the church. The pope, then Julius the third, being informed of these transactions, said, that it was an unexampled instance of his selicity, to receive thanks from the English, for allowing them to do what he ought to give them thanks for performing[§].

NOTWITHSTANDING the extreme zeal of those times, for and against popery, the object always uppermost with the nobility and gentry, was the care of their money and estates; and they were not brought to make these concessions in favour of Rome, till they had received repeated assurances, from the pope as well as the Queen, that the plunder which they had made of the ecclesiastics, should never be enquired into; and that the abbey and church lands should remain with the present possessors[*]. But not trusting altogether to these promises, the Parliament took care, in the law itself[†], by which they repealed the former statutes enacted against the pope's authority, to insert a clause, in which, besides bestowing validity on all marriages celebrated during the schism, and fixing the right of incumbents to their benefices, they gave security to the possessors of church lands, and freed them from all danger of ecclesiastical censures. The convocation also, in order to remove all apprehensions on that head, were induced to present a petition to the same purpose[‡]; and the legate, in his master's name, ratified all these transactions. It now appeared, that, notwithstanding the efforts of the Queen and King, the power of the papacy was effectually suppressed, and invincible barriers fixed against its re-establishment. For tho' the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastics was, for the present, restored, their property, on which their power much depended, was irrecoverably lost, and no hopes remained of recovering it. Even these arbitrary, powerful, and bigotted princes, while the transactions were yet recent, could not regain to the church her possessions so lately lost; and no expedients were left the clergy for enriching themselves, but those which they had at first practised, and which had required ages of ignorance, barbarism, and superstition to operate their effect on mankind‖.

THE Parliament having secured their own possessions, were more indifferent with regard to religion, or even the lives of their fellow citizens; and they revived the old sanguinary laws against heretics[*], which had been rejected in the former Parliament. They also enacted several laws against seditious words and rumours[†]; and they made it treason to imagine or attempt the death of Philip, during his marriage with the Queen[‡]. Each Parliament hitherto had been induced to go a step farther than their predecessors; but none of them had entirely lost all regard to national interests. Their hatred against the Spaniards, as well as their suspicion of Philip's pretensions, still prevailed; and tho' the Queen attempted to get her husband declared presumptive heir of the crown, and to have the administration put into his hands; she failed in all her hopes, and could not so much as procure the Parliament's consent to his coronation[§]. All attempts likewise to procure subsidies from the commons, in order to support the emperor in his war against France, proved fruitless; and the usual animosity and jealousy of the English against that kingdom, seemed to have given place, for the present, to like passions against Spain. Philip, sensible of the prepossessions entertained against him, endeavoured to acquire popularity, by procuring the release of several prisoners of distinction; the lord Henry Dudley, Sir George Harper, Sir Nicholas Throcmorton, Sir Edmond Warner, Sir William St. Lo, Sir Nicholas Arnold, Harrington, Tremaine, who had been consined from the suspicions or resentment of the court‖. But nothing was more agreeable to the nation than his protection of the lady Elizabeth, from the spite and malice of the Queen, and the restoring her to her liberty. This measure was not the effect of any generosity in Philip, a sentiment of which he was wholly incapable; but of a refined policy, which made him foresee, that, if that princess were put to death, the next lawful heir was the Queen of Scots, whose succession would for ever annex England to the crown of France. The earl of Devonshire also reaped some benefit from the affected popularity of Philip, and recovered his liberty: But that nobleman finding himself exposed to suspicion, begged permission to travel[*]; and he soon after died in Padua, from poison, as is pretended, given him by the imperialists. He was the eleventh and last earl of Devonshire of that noble family, allied to the royal family of France.

THE Queen's extreme desire of having issue, had made her fondly give credit to any appearance of her pregnancy; and when the legate was introduced to her, she fancied, that she felt the embryo stir in her womb. Her flatterers compared this motion of the infant to that of John the Baptist, who leaped in his mother's belly at the salutation of the virgin[†]. Dispatches were immediately sent to inform foreign courts of this event: Orders were issued to give public thanks: Great rejoicings were made: The family of the young prince was already settled[‡]; for the catholics held themselves assured that the child was to be a male: And Bonner, bishop of London, made public prayers be said, that Heaven would please to render him beautiful, vigorous, and witty. But the nation remained still somewhat incredulous; and men were persuaded, that the Queen laboured under infirmities, which rendered her incapable of having children. Her infant proved only the commencement of a dropsy, which the disordered state of her health had brought upon her. The belief, however, of her pregnancy was still maintained with all possible care; and was one artifice, by which Philip endeavoured to support his authority in the kingdom. The Parliament passed a law, which, in case of the Queen's death, appointed him protector during the minority; and the King and Queen, finding they could
16 January.

obtain no further concessions, came unexpectedly to Westminster Hall, and dissolved them.

THERE happened a remarkable assair this session, which must not be passed over in silence. Several members of the lower house, dissatisfied with the measures of the Parliament, but finding themselves unable to prevent them, made a secession, in order to show their disapprobation, and refused any longer to attend the house‖. For this instance of contumacy they were indicted in the King'sbench after the dissolution of the Parliament: Six of them submitted to the mercy of the court, and paid their fines: The rest traversed; and the Queen died before the affair was brought to an issue. Judging of the matter by the subsequent pretensions of the house of commons, and, indeed, by the true principles of a free government, this attempt of the Queen's ministers must be regarded as a breach of privilege; but i• gave little umbrage at that time, and was never called in question by any future house of commons which sat during this reign.

CHAP. II.

Reasons for and against Toleration.—Persecutions.—A Parliament.—The Queen's extortions.—The emperor resigns his crown.—Execution of Cranmer.—War with France.—Battle of St. Quintin.—Calais taken by the French.—Affairs of Scotland.—Marriage of the Dauphin and the Queen of Scots.—A Parliament.—Death of the Queen.

THE success which Gardiner, from his cautious and prudent conduct, had met with in governing the Parliament, and engaging them both to approve of the Spanish alliance, and the re-establishment of the ancient religion, two points, to which, it was believed, they bore an extreme aversion, had so raised his character for wisdom and policy, that his opinion was received as an oracle in the Queen's councils; and his authority, as it was always great in his own party, no longer suffered any opposition or controul. Cardinal Pole himself, tho' more beloved on account of his virtue and candour, and tho' superior in birth and station, had not equal weight in public deliberations; and while his learning, piety, and humanity were extremely respected, he was represented more as a good man than a great minister. A very important question was frequently debated, before the Queen and council, by these two ecclesiastics; whether the laws lately revived against heretics should be put in execution, or should only be employed to restrain, by terror, the bold attempts of these zealots. Pole was very sincere in his religious principles; and tho' his moderation had made him be suspected at Rome of a tendency towards Lutheranism; he was seriously persuaded of the catholic doctrines, and thought that no consideration of human policy ought ever to come in competition with such important interests. Gardiner, on the contrary, had always made his religion subservient to his schemes of safety or advancement; and by his unlimited complaisance to Henry, he had shown, that had he not been pushed to extremity under the late minority, he was sufficiently disposed to make a sacrifice of his principles to the established theology. This was the well-known character of these two great counsellors; yet such is the prevalence of temper above system, that the benevolent disposition of Pole led him to advise a toleration of the heretical tenets which he highly blamed; while the severe manners of Gardiner inclined him to support, by persecution, that religion which, at the bottom, he regarded with great indifference[*]. This circumstance of public conduct was of the highest importance; and from being the object of deliberation in the council, it soon became the subject of discourse throughout the nation. We shall represent, in a few words, the topics by which each side supported, or might have supported, their scheme of policy; and shall display the opposite reasons which have been employed, with regard to an argument that ever has been, and ever will be so much canvassed.

Reasons for and against toleration.

THE practice of persecution, said the defenders of Pole's opinion, is the scandal of all religion; and the theological animosity, so fierce and violent, far from being an argument of men's conviction in their opposite tenets, is a certain proof, that they have never reached any serious persuasion with regard to these remote and sublime subjects. Even those who are the most impatient of contradiction in other controversies, are mild and moderate in comparison of polemical divines; and wherever a man's knowlege and experience give him a perfect assurance of his own opinion, he regards with contempt, rather than anger, the opposition and mistakes of others. But while men zealously maintain what they neither clearly comprehend, nor entirely believe, they are shaken in their imagined saith, by the opposite persuasion, or even doubts of other men; and vent on their antagonists that impatience which is the natural result of so disagreeable a state of the understanding. They then embrace easily any pretence for representing oppon••ts as impious and prophane; and if they can also find a colour for co•necting this violence with the interests of civil government, they can no longer be restrained from giving uncont•ouled scope to vengeance and resentment. But surely never enterprize was more unfortunate than that of founding per•ecution upon policy, or endeavouring, for the sake of peace, to settle an entire uni•ormity of opinion, in questions which, of all others, are least subjected to the criterion of human reason. The universal and uncontradicted prevalence of one opinion in religious subjects, can only be owing at first to the stupid ignorance and barbarism of the people, who never indulge themselves in any speculation or enquiry; and there is no other expedient for maintaining that uniformity, so fondly •ought after, but by banishing for ever all curiosity and all improvement in science and cultivation. It may not, indeed, appear difficult to ch•ck, by a steddy severity, the first beginnings of controversy; but besides that this policy exposes for ever the people to all the abject terrors of superstition, and the magistrate to the endless encroachments of ecc•esiastics, it also renders men so delicate, that they can never endure to hear of opposition; and they will sometime pay dearly for that false tranquility in which they have been so long indulged. As healthful bodies are ruined by too nice a regimen, and are thereby rendered incapable of bearing the unavoidable incidents of human life; a people who never were allowed to imagine, that their principles could be contested, •ly out into the most outrageous violence when any event (and such events are common) produces a faction among their clergy, and gives rise to any difference in tenet or opinion. But whatever may be said in favour of suppressing, by persecution, the first beginnings of here•y, no solid argument can be alledged for extending severity towards multitudes, or endeavouring, by capital punishments, to extirpate an opinion, which has diffused itself thro' men of every rank and station. Besides the extreme barbarity of such an attempt, it proves commonly ineffectual to the purpose intended; and serves only to make men more obstinate in their persuasion, and to encrease the number of their proselytes. The melancholy with which the •ear of death, torture, and persecution inspires the sectaries, is the proper disposition for fostering religious zeal: The pr spect of eternal reward•, when brought near, overpowers the dread of temporal punishment: The glory of martyrdom stimulates all the more furious zealots, especially the leaders and preachers▪ Where a violent animosity is excited by oppression, men pass naturally from hating the persons of their tyrants, to a more violent abhorrence of their doctrine▪ And the spectat•rs, moved with pity towards the supposed martyrs, are naturally •educed to embrace those principles which can inspire men with a constancy that appears almost supernatural. Open the door to toleration, the mutual hatred relaxes among the sectaries; their attachment to their particular religion decays▪ the common occupations and pleasures of life succeed to the a•rimony of disputation; and the •ame man, who, in other circumstances, would have braved slames and tortures, is engaged to change his religion from the smallest prospect of favour and advancement, or even from the frivolous hopes of becom ••g more •ashionable in his principles. If any exception can be admitted to this maxim of toleration, it will only be where a theology altogether new, no way connected with the ancient religion of the state, is imported from foreign countries, and may easily, at one blow, be eradicated, without leaving the seeds of future innovations. But as this instance would involve some apology for the ancient pagan persecutions, or for the extirpation of Christianity in China and Japan; it ought surely, on account of this detested consequence, to be rather buried in eternal silence and oblivion.

THO' these arguments appear entirely satisfactory, yet such is the subtilty of human wit, that Gardiner, and the other enemies to toleration, were not reduced to silence, and they still found topics on which to support the controversy. The doctrine, said they, of liberty of conscience is founded on the most flagrant impiety, and supposes such an indifference among all religions, such an obscurity in theological doctrines, as to render the church and magistrate incapable of distinguishing, with certainty, the dictates of Heaven from the mere fictions of human imagination. If the Divinity reveals principles to mankind, he will surely give a criterion by which they may be ascertained; and a prince, who knowingly allows these principles to be perverted, or adulterated, is infinitely more criminal than if he gave permission for the vending of poison, under the shape of bread, to all his subjects. Persecution may, indeed, seem better calculated to make hypocrites than converts; but experience teaches us, that the habits of hypocrisy often turn into reality; and the children at least, ignorant of their parents dissimulation, may happily be educated in more orthodox tenets. It is absurd, in opposition to considerations of such unspeakable importance, to plead the temporal and frivolous interests of civil society; and if matters be thoroughly examined, even that topic will not appear so certain and universal in favour of toleration as by some i• is represented. Where sects arise, whose fundamental principle on all sides, is to execr•te, and abhor, and damn, and extirpate each other; what choice has the magistrate left but to take party, and by rendering one sect entirely prevalent, restore, at least for a time, the public tranquillity? The political body, being here s•••ly, must not be treated as if it were in a state of found health; and an affected neutrality in the prince, or even a cool preference, may serve only to encourag• the hopes of all the sects, and keep alive their animosity. The protestants, far from tol•rating the religion of their ancestors, regard it as an impi ••• and detestable idolatry; and during the late minority, when they were entirely mast•••, enac••• very severe, tho' not capital, punishments against all exercise of the catholic worship, and even against such as barely abstained from their profane rites and sacraments. Nor are instances wanting of their endeavours to 〈◊〉 an imagined orthodoxy by the most rigorous executions: Calvin has burned Servetus at Geneva: Cranmer brought Arians and Anabaptists to the stake: And if persecution of any kind is to be admitted, the most bloody and violent will surely be allowed the most justifiable, as the most effectual. Imprisonments, fines, confiscations, whippings, serve only to irritate the sects, without disabling them from resistance: But the stake, the wheel, or the gibbet, must soon terminate in the extirpation or banishment of all the heretics, who are inclined to give disturbance, and in the entire silence and submission of the rest.

THE arguments of Gardiner being more agreeable to the cruel bigotry of Mary and Philip, were better received; and tho' Pole pleaded, as is affirmed[*], the advice of the emperor, who recommended it to his daughter-in-law, not to practise violence against the protestants, and desired her to consider his own example, who, after endeavouring thro' his whole life to extirpate heresy, had, in the end, reaped nothing but confusion and disappointment, the scheme of toleration was entirely rejected. It was determined to let loose the laws in their full rigour against the reformed religion; and England was soon filled with scenes of horror, which have ever since rendered the catholic religion the object of general detestation, and which prove, that no human depravity can equal revenge and cruelty, covered with the mantle of religion.

Violent persecution in England.

THE persecutors began with Rogers, who was prebendary of St. Paul's, and a man eminent in his party for virtue as well as for learning. Gardiner's plan was first to attack men of that character, whom, he hoped, terror would bend to submission, and whose example, either of punishment or recantation, would naturally have influence on the multitude: But he found a perseverance and courage in Rogers, which it may seem strange to find in human nature, and of which all ages, and all sects, do notwithstanding furnish many examples. Rogers, beside the care of his own preservation, lay under other very powerful temptations to compliance: He had a wife, whom he tenderly loved, and ten children; yet such was his serenity after his condemnation, that the jailors, it is said, waked him from a sound sleep, when the hour of his execution approached. He had desired to see his wise before he died; but Gardiner told him, that he was a priest; he could not possibly have a wife: Thus joining insult to cruelty. Rogers was burnt in Smithfield[†].

HOOPER, bishop of Glocester, had been tried at the same time with Rogers; but was sent to his own diocese to be executed. This circumstance was contrived to strike a greater terror into his flock; but it was a source of satisfaction to Hooper, who rejoiced in giving testimony, by his death, to that doctrine which he had formerly taught them. When he was tied to the stake, a stool was set before him, and the Queen's pardon laid upon it, which it was still in his power to accept by his recantation: But he ordered it to be removed; and chearfully prepared himself for that dreadful punishment to which he was condemned. He suffered it in its full severity: The wind, which was vehement, blew the flame of the reeds from his body: The faggots were green, and did not kindle easily: All his lower parts were consumed before his vitals were attacked: One of his hands dropt off: With the other he continued to beat his breast: He was heard to pray and exhort the people, till his tongue, swoln with the violence of the agony, could no longer permit him utterance. He was three quarters of an hour in torture, which he bore with inflexible constancy[‡].

SANDERS was burned at Coventry: A pardon was also offered him; but he rejected it, and embraced the stake, saying, "Welcome the cross of Christ; welcome everlasting life." Taylor, parson of Hadley, was consumed by flames in that place, amidst his ancient friends and parishioners. When tied to the stake, he repeated a psalm in English: One of his guards struck him on the mouth, and bid him speak Latin: Another, in a rage, gave him a blow on the head with his halbert, which happily put an end to his▪torments.

THERE was one Philpot, archdeacon of Winchester, possessed of such zeal for orthodoxy, that having been engaged in a dispute with an Arian, he spit in his adversary's face, to show the great detestation which he had entertained against that heresy. He afterwards wrote a treatise to justify this unmannerly expression of zeal; and he said, that he was led to it, in order to relieve the sorrow conceived from such horrid blasphemy, and to signify how unworthy such a miscreant was of being admitted into the company of any christian‖. Philpot was a protestant; and falling now into the hands of people as zealous as himself, but more powerful, he was condemned to the flames, and suffered at Smithfield.

THE article upon which almost all the protestants were condemned, was, their refusal to acknowlege the real presence. Gardiner, who had vainly expected, that a few examples would strike a terror into the reformers, finding the work daily multiply upon him, devolved the invidious office on others, chiefly on Bonner, a man of profligate manners, and of a brutal character, who seemed to rejoice in the torments of the unhappy sufferers[*]. He sometimes whipped the prisoners soners with his own hands, till he was tired with the violence of the exercise: He tore out the beard of a weaver, who refused to relinquish his religion; and that he might give him a specimen of burning, he held his hand to the candle, till the sinews and veins snrunk and burst[†].

IT is needless to be particular in enumerating all the horrid cruelties practised in England during the course of three years that these persecutions lasted: The savage barbarity on the one hand, and the patient constancy on the other, are so similar in all these martyrdoms, that the narration, very little agreeable in itself, would never be relieved by any variety. Human nature appears not, on any occasion, so detestable, and at the same time so absurd, as in these religious persecutions, which sink men below infernal spirits in wickedness, and below the beasts in folly. A few instances only may be worth preserving, in order, if possible, to warn zealous bigots, for ever to avoid such odious and such fruitless barbarity.

FERRAR, bishop of St. David's, was burned in his own diocese; and his appeal to cardinal Pole was not attended to[‡]. Ridley, bishop of London, and Latimer, formerly bishop of Worcester, two prelates celebrated for learning and virtue, perished together in the same flames at Oxford, and supported each other's constancy by their mutual exhortations. Latimer, when tied to the stake, called to his companion, "Be of good comfort, brother, we shall this day kindle such a torch in England, as, I trust in God, shall never be extinguished." The executioners had been so merciful (for that clemency may more naturally be ascribed to them than to the religious zealots) as to tye bags of gunpowder about these prelates, in order to put a speedy period to their tortures: The explosion immediately killed Latimer, who was in an extreme old age: Ridley continued alive during some time in the midst of the flames‖.

ONE Hunter, a young man of nineteen, an apprentice, having been seduced by a priest into a dispute, had unwarily denied the real presence. Sensible of his danger, he immediately concealed himself; and Bonner laying hold of his father, threatened him with the greatest seve••ties, if he did not produce the young man to stand his tryal. Hunter, hearing the vexations to which his father was exposed, voluntarily delivered himself to Bonner, and was condemned to the flames by that barbarous prelate.

THOMAS Haukes, when conducted to the stake, agreed with his friends, that if he found the torture tolerable, he would make them a signal to that purpose in the midst of the flames. His zeal for the cause in which he suffered, so supported him, that he stretched out his arms, the signal agreed on; and in that posture he expired[*]. This example, with many others of like constancy, encouraged multitudes, not only to suffer, but even to aspire to martyrdom.

THE tender sex itself, as they have commonly a greater propensity to religion, produced many instances of the most inflexible courage in supporting the profession of it, against all the fury of the persecutors. One execution in particular was attended with circumstances which, even at that time, excited astonishment, by reason of their unusual barbarity. A woman in Guernsey, being near the time of her labour when brought to the stake, was thrown into such agitation by the torture, that her belly burst, and she was delivered in the midst of the flames. One of the guards immediately snatched the infant from the fire, and attempted to save it: But a magistrate who stood by, ordered it to be thrown back; being determined, he said, that nothing should survive which sprung from such an obstinate and heretical parent[†].

THE persons condemned to these punishments were not convicted for teaching, or dogmatizing, contrary to the established religion: They were seized merely on suspicion; and articles being offered them to subscribe, they were immediately, upon their refusal, condemned to the flames[‡]. Those instances of barbarity, so unusual in the nation, excited horror; the constancy of the martyrs was the object of admiration; and as men have a principle of equity engraven in their minds, which even false religion is not able totally to obliterate, they were shocked to see persons of probity, of honour, of pious dispositions, exposed to punishments more severe than were inflicted on the greatest ruffians, for crimes subversive of civil society. To exterminate the whole protestant party, was known to be impossible; and nothing could appear more iniquitous, than to subject to torture, the most conscientious and courageous among them; and allow the cowards and hypocrites to escape. Each martyrdom, therefore, was equivalent to a hundred sermons against popery; and men either avoided such horrid spectacles, or returned from them full of a violent, tho' secret, indignation against the persecutors. Repeated orders were sent from the council, to quicken the diligence of the magistrates in searching after heretics; and, in some places, the gentry were obliged to countenance, by their presence, these barbarous executions. The violences tended only to render the Spanish government daily more odious; and Philip, sensible of the hatred which he incurred, endeavoured to remove the reproach from himself by a very gross artifice: He ordered his con •essor to deliver in his presence a sermon in favour of toleration: a doctrine somewhat extraordinary in a Spanish friar‖. But the court, finding that Bonner, however shameless and savage, would not bear alone the whole infamy, soon threw off the mask; and the unrelenting temper of the Queen, as well as of the King, appeared without controul. A bold step was even taken towards the introduction of the inquisition into England. As the bishops' courts, tho' extremely arbitrary, and not bound by any ordinary forms of law, appeared not to be invested with sufficient power, a commission was appointed by authority of the Queen's prerogative, more effectually to extirpate heresy. Twenty-one persons were named; but any three were armed with the powers of the whole. The commission runs in these terms;
"That since many false rumours were published among the subjects, and many heretical opinions were also spread among them, therefore they were to enquire into those, either by presentments by witnesses, or any other political way they could devise, and to search after all heresies; the bringers in, the sellers, the readers of all heretical books: They were to examine and punish all misbehaviours or negligences, in any church or chappel; and to try all priests that did not preach the sacrament of the altar; all persons that did not hear mass, or come to their parish church to service, that would not go in processions, or did not take holy bread or holy water: And if they found any that did obstinately persist in such heresies, they were to put them into the hands of their ordinaries, to be punished according to the spiritual laws: Giving the commissioners full power to proceed, as their discretions and consciences should direct them, and to use all such means as they would invent for the searching of the premises; empowering them also to call before them such witnesses as they pleased, and to force them to make oath of such things as might discover what they sought after[*]."
Some civil powers were also given the commissioners to punish vagabonds and quarrelsome persons.

TO bring the methods of proceeding in England nearer the practice of the inquisition, letters were written to the lord North, and others, enjoining them,
"To put to the torture such obstinate persons as would not confess, and there to order them at their discretion[†]."
Secret spies also, and informers, were employed, according to the practice of that iniquitous tribunal. Instructions were given to the justices of peace,
"That they should call secretly before them one or two honest persons within their limits, or more, at their disoretion, and command them by oath, or otherwise, that they shall secretly learn and search out such persons as shall evil-behave themselves in church, or idly, or shall d•spise openly by words, the King's or Queen's proceedings, or go about to make any commotion, or tell any seditious tales or news. And also, that the same persons so to be appointed, shall declare to the same justices of peace, the ill behaviour of lewd disordered persons, whether it shall be for using unlawful games, and such other light behaviour of such suspected persons: And that the same information shall be given secretly to the justices; and the same justices shall call such accused persons before them, and examine them, without declaring by whom they were accused. And that the same justices shall, upon their examination, punish the offenders, according as their offences shall appear, upon the accusement and examination, by their dis•retion, either by open punishment or by good abearing[‡]."
In some respects, this tyrannical edict even exceeded the oppression of the inquisition; by introducing into every part of government, the same iniquities which that tribunal practises only for the extirpation of heresy, and which are, in some measure, necessary, wherever that end is earnestly pursued.

BUT the court had devised a more expeditious and summary method of suppressing heresy than even the inquisition itself. They issued a proclamation against books of heresy, treason, and sedition; and declared,
"That whosoever had any of these books, and did not presently burn them, without reading them, or shewing them to any other person, should be esteemed rebels; and without any farther delay, be executed by martial law‖."
From the state of the English government, during that period, it is not so much the illegality of these proceedings, as their violence and their pernicious tendency, which ought to be the object of our censure.

WE have thrown together almost the whole transactions against heretics, tho' carried on during a course of three years; that we may be obliged, as little as possible, to return to such shocking violences and barbarities. It is computed, that in that time two hundred and seventy-seven persons suffered by fire; besides those punished by imprisonment, fines, and con•iscations. Among those who suffered by fire, were five bishops, twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, eighty-four tradesmen, one hundred husbandmen, servants, and labourers, fifty-five women, and four children. This persevering cruelty appears astonishing; yet is it much inferior to what has been practised in other countries. A great author[*]computes, that in the Low Countries alone, from the time that the edict of Charles the fifth was promulgated against the reformers, there had been fifty thousand persons hanged, beheaded, buried alive, or burnt, on account of religion; and that in France the number had also been considerable. Yet in both countries, as the same author subjoins, the progress of the new opinions, instead of being checked, was rather forwarded by these persecutions.

THE burning of heretics was a very natural method of reconciling the kingdom to the church of Rome, and little sollicitation was requisite to engage the pope to receive the strayed flock, from which he reaped such profit: Yet was there a solemn embassy sent to Rome, consisting of Sir Anthony Brown, created viscount Montacute, the bishop of Ely, and Sir Edward Carne; in order to carry the submission of England, and beg to be readmitted into the bosom of the catholic church[*]. Paul the fourth, after a short interval, now filled the papal chair; the most haughty pontiff, that during several ages had been elevated to that dignity. He was offended, that Mary still retained among her titles, that of Queen of Ireland; and he affirmed that it belonged to him alone, as he saw proper, either to erect new kingdoms or abolish the old: But to avoid all dispute with the new converts, he thought proper to erect Ireland into a kingdom, and then admitted the title, as if it had been his own concession. This was an usual artifice of the popes to give allowance to what they could not prevent[†], and then pretend, that persons, while they exercised their own power, were only acting by authority from the papacy. And tho' Paul had at first intended to oblige Mary formally to recede from this title, before he would bestow it upon her; he found it wiser to proceed in a more political, and less haughty manner[‡].

THE other point of discussion between the pope and the English ambassadors was not so easily terminated. Paul insisted, that the property and possessions of the church should be restored even to the uttermost farthing: That whatever belonged to God, could never by any law be converted to profane uses, and every person who detained such possessions was in a state of eternal damnation: That he would willingly, in consideration of the humble submissions of England, make them a present of these ecclesiastical revenues; but such a concession exceeded his power, and the people might be certain that so great a profanation of holy things would be a perpetual anathema upon them, and would blast all their future felicity: That if they would truly show their filial piety, they must restore all the privileges and emoluments of the Roman church, and Peter's pence among the rest; nor could they expect, that that apostle would open to them the gates of Paradise, while they detained from them his possessions on earth[§]. These earnest remonstrances being transmitted to England, tho' they had little influence on the nation, operated powerfully on the Queen; and she was determined, in order to ease her conscience, to restore all the church lands which were still in the possession of the crown; and the more to express her zeal, she erected anew some convents and monasteries, notwithstanding the low condition of the public revenues. When this measure was debated in council, some members objected, that if such a considerable part of the revenue was dismembered, the dignity of the crown would fall to decay: But the Queen replied, that she preferred the salvation of her soul to ten such kingdoms as England[†]. These imprudent measures would not probably have taken place so easily, had it not been for the death of Gardiner, which happened about this time: The seals were given to Heathe, archbishop of York; that an ecclesiastic might still be possessed of that high office, and be better enabled by his authority to forward the persecutions against the reformed.

THESE persecutions were now become extremely odious to the nation; and the
21st October. A Parliament.

effects of the public discontents appeared in the new Parliament, which was summoned to meet at Westminster[‡]. A bill was passed[*]restoring to the church the tenths and first fruits, and all the impropriations which remained in the hands of the crown; but tho' this matter directly concerned none but the Queen herself, great opposition was made to the bill in the house of commons. An application being made for a subsidy during two years, and for two fifteenths, the latter was refused by the commons; and many members said, that while the crown was thus despoiling itself of its revenues, there was no end of bestowing riches upon it. The Parliament rejected a bill for obliging the exiles to return under certain penalties, and another for incapacitating such as were remiss in the prosecution of heresy from being justices of peace. The Queen finding
9th December.

the intractable humour of the commons, thought proper to dissolve the Parliament.

THE spirit of opposition, which began to prevail in Parliament, was likely to be the more vexatious to Mary, as she was otherwise in very bad humour on account of her husband's absence, who, tired of her importunate love and jealousy, and finding his authority extremely limited in England, had laid hold of the first opportunity to leave her, and had gone over last summer to the emperor in Flanders. The indifference and neglect of her husband, added to the disappointment in her imagined pregnancy, threw her into a deep melancholy; and she gave vent to her spleen by enforcing daily the persecutions against the protestants, and even by expressions of rage against all her subjects, by whom she knew herself to be hated, and whose opposition, in refusing an entire compliance with Philip, was the cause, she believed, why he had alienated his affections from her, and afforded her so little of his company. The less return her love met with, the more it increased; and she passed most of her time in solitude, where she gave vent to her passion, either in tears, or in writing fond epistles to Philip, who seldom returned her any answer, and scarce deigned to counterfeit any sentiment of love or even of gratitude towards her. The chief part of government, to
The Queen's extortions.

which she attended, was the extorting money from her people, in order to satisfy his demands; and as the Parliament had granted her but a small supply, she had recourse to expedients the most violent and most irregular. She levied a loan of 60,000 pounds upon a thousand persons, of whose compliance, either on account of their riches or their affections to her, she held herself best assured: But that sum not sufficing, she exacted a general loan of an hundred pounds apiece on every one who possessed twenty pounds a year. This grievous imposition lay very heavy on the gentry, who were obliged, many of them, to retrench their expences, and dismiss their servants, in order to enable them to comply with her commands: And as these servants, accustomed to idleness, and having no means of subsistance, betook themselves very commonly to theft and robbery, the Queen published a proclamation, by which she obliged their former masters to take them back to their service. She levied 60,000 marks from 7000 yeomen, who had not contributed to the former loan; and she exacted 36,000 pounds more from the merchants. In order to engage some Londoners to comply the more willingly with her multiplied extortions, she passed an edict, prohibiting, for four months, the exporting any English cloths or kerseys for Flande•s; an expedient which procured a good market for such as had already sent any quantity of cloth thither. Her rapaciousness engaged her to give endless disturbance and interruption to commerce. The English company settled in Antwerp having refused her a loan of 40,000 pounds, she dissembled her r•sentment, •ill she found, that they had bought and shipped great quantities of cloth for A•twerp fair, which was approac•ing: She then laid an embargo on the ships, and obliged the merchants to grant her a loan of the 40,000 pounds at 〈◊〉 demanded, to engage for the payment of 20,000 pounds more at a limited time, and to submit to an arbitrary imposition of twenty shillings on each •••ce. So•e time after, she was informed, that the Italian 〈◊〉 had shi•ped a•ove 〈◊〉 pieces of cloth for the •evant, for which they w••• to pay a ••own 〈◊〉 the usual imposition: She struck a b•rgain with the merch•nt adventur•• in London; prohibited entirely the foreigners to make any exportation; and received, from the English merchants, in consideration of this iniquity, the sum of 50,000 pounds, and an imposition of four crowns on each piece of cloth which they should export. She attempted to borrow great fums abroad; but her credit ran so low, that, tho' she offered 14 per cent▪ to the city of Antwerp for a loan of 30,000 pounds, she could not obtain it, till she constrained the city of London to be surety for her[*]. All these violent expedients were employed while she herself was in profound peace with all the world, and had visibly no other occasion for money but to supply the demands of a husband, who attended only to his own convenience, and showed himself entirely indifferent about her interests.

PHILIP was now become master of all the wealth of the Indies, and of the richest and most extensive dominions in Europe, by the voluntary resignation of
The emperor resigns his crown.

the emperor, Charles the fifth, who, tho' still in the vigour of his age, had taken a disgust to the world, and was determined to seek, in the tranquillity of retreat, for that happiness, which he had in vain pursued, amidst the tumults of war,
25th October.

and the restless projects of ambition. He summoned the states of the Low Countries; and seating himself on the throne for the last time, explained to his subjects the reasons of his resignation, absolved them from all oaths of allegiance, and devolving his authority on Philip, told him, that his paternal tenderness made him weep, when he reflected on the burthen which he imposed upon him[†]. He inculcated to him the great and only duty of a prince, the study of his people's happiness; and represented how much preferable it was to govern, by affection rather than fear, the nations subjected to his dominion. The cool reflections of age now discovered to him the emptiness of his former pursuits; and he found, that the vain schemes of extending his empire had been the source of endless opposition and disappointment, had kept himself, his neighbours, and his subjects in perpetual inquietude, and had frustrated the sole end of government, the felicity of the nations committed to his care; an object which meets with no opposition, and which, if steddily pursued, can alone convey a lasting and solid satisfaction.

A FEW months after, he resigned to Philip his other dominions; and embarking on board a fleet, sailed to Spain, and took his journey to St. Just, a monastery in Estramedura, which, being situated in a happy climate, and amidst the greatest beauties of nature, he had chosen for the place of his retreat. When he arrived at Burgos, he found, by the thinness of his court, and the negligent attendance of the Spanish grandees, that he was no longer emperor; and tho' this observation might convince him still more of the vanity of the world, and make him more heartily despise what he had renounced, he sighed to find that all the former adulation and obeisance had been paid to his fortune, not to his person. With better reason, was he struck with the ingratitude of his son Philip, who allowed him to wait a long time for the payment of the small pension which he had reserved; and this disappointment in his domestic enjoyments gave him a very sensible concern. He pursued however his resolution with inflexible constancy; and shutting himself up in his retreat, he exerted such selfcommand, that he restrained even his curiosity from any enquiry concerning the transactions of the world, which he had entirely abandoned. The fencing against the pains and infirmities under which he laboured, occupied a great part of his time; and during the intervals, he employed his leisure either in examining the controversies of theology, with which his age had been so much agitated, and which he had hitherto considered only in a political light, or in imitating the works of renowned artists, particularly in mechanics, of which he had always been a great admirer and encourager. He is said to have here discovered a propensity to the new doctrines; and to have frequently dropped hints of this unexpected alteration in his sentiments. Having amused himself with the construction of clocks and watches, he thence remarked how impracticable the object was, in which he had so much employed himself during his grandeur; and how impossible that he, who never could frame two machines that would go exactly alike, could ever be able to make all mankind concur in the same belief and opinion. He survived his retreat two years.

THE emperor Charles had very early, in the beginning of his reign, found the difficulty of governing such distant dominions; and he had made his brother Ferdinand be elected King of the Romans; with a view of his succeeding to the imperial dignity, as well as to his German dominions. But having afterwards enlarged his views, and formed plans of aggrandizing his family, he regreted, that he must dismember such considerable states; and he endeavoured to engage Ferdinand, by the most tempting offers, and most earnest sollicitations, to yield up his pretensions in favour of Philip. Finding his attempts fruitless, he had resigned the imperial crown with his other dignities; and Ferdinand, according to common form, applied to the pope for his coronation. The arrogant pontiff refused the demand; and pretended, that, tho', on the death of an emperor, he was obliged to crown the prince elected, yet in the case of a resignation, the right devolved to the holy see, and it belonged to the pope alone to appoint an emperor. The conduct of Paul was in every thing conformable to these lofty pretensions. He thundered always in the ears of all ambassadors, that he stood in no need of the assistance of any prince, that he was above all pote tates of the earth, that he would not accustom monarchs to pretend to a familiarity or equality with him, that it belonged to him to alter and regulate kingdoms, that he was successor of those who had deposed kings and emperors, and that, rather than submit to any thing below his dignity, he would set fire to the four corners of the world. He went so far, that at table, in the presence of many persons, and even openly, in a public consistory, he said, that he would not admit any Kings for his companions; they were all his subjects, and he would hold them under these feet: So saying, he stamped the ground with his old and infirm limbs: For he was now past fourscore years of age[*].

THE world could not forbear making a comparison between Charles the fifth, a prince, who, tho' educated amidst wars and intrigues of state, had prevented the decline of age, and had descended from the throne, in order to set apart an interval for thought and reflection, and a priest, who in the extremity of old age exulted in his dominion, and from restless ambition and revenge was throwing all nations into combustion. Paul had entertained the most inveterate animosity against the house of Austria; and tho' a truce of five years had been concluded between France and Spain, he excited Henry by his sollicitations to break it, and promised to assist him in recovering Naples and the dominions to which he laid claim in Italy; a project which had ever proved fatal to his predecessors. He himself engaged in hostilities with the duke of Alva, viceroy of Naples; and the duke of Guise being sent with forces to support him, the renewal of war between the two crowns seemed almost inevitable. Philip, tho' less warlike than his father, was no less ambitious; and he trusted, that by the intrigues of the cabinet, where, he believed, his caution and secrecy and prudence gave him the superiority, he should be able to subdue all his enemies, and extend his authority and dominion. For this reason, as well as from the desire of settling his new empire, he was desirous to maintain peace with France; but when he found, that, without sacrificing his honour, it was impossible for him to overlook the hostile attempts of Henry, he prepared for war with great industry. In order to give himself the more advantage, he was desirous to embark England in the quarrel; and tho' the Queen was of herself extremely averse to that design, he hoped, that the devoted fondness, which, notwithstanding repeated instances of his indifference, she still bore him, would effectually second his applications. Had the matter indeed depended solely on her, she was incapable of resisting her husband's commands; but she had little weight with her council, still less with her people; and her government, which was every day becoming more odious, seemed unable to support itself even during the most profound tranquillity, much more if a war was kindled with France, and what seemed an inevitable consequence, with Scotland, supported by that powerful kingdom.

AN act of barbarity was this year exercised in England, which, added to many other instances of the same kind, tended to render the government extremely unpopular. Cranmer had long been detained a prisoner; but the Queen was now
Execution of Cranmer.

determined to bring him to punishment; and in order the more fully to satiate her vengeance, she resolved to punish him for heresy, rather than for treason. He was cited by the pope to stand his trial at Rome; and tho' he was known to be kept in close custody at Oxford, he was, upon his not appearing, condemned as contumacious. Bonner, bishop of London, and Thirleby of Ely, were sent down to Oxford to degrade him; and the former executed that melancholy ceremony with all the joy and exultation, which suited his savage nature[*]. The revenge of the Queen, not satisfied with the eternal damnation of Cranmer, which she believed inevitable, and with the execution of that dreadful sentence to which he was condemned, prompted her also to seek the ruin of his honour, and the infamy of his name. Persons were employed to attack him, not in the way of disputation, against which he was sufficiently armed; but by flattery, insinuation and address; by representing the dignities to which his character still entitled him, if he would merit them by a recantation; by giving hopes of long enjoying those powerful friends, whom his beneficent disposition had attached to him during the course of his prosperity[†]. Overcome by the fond love of life, terrified by the prospect of those tortures which awaited him; he allowed, in an unguarded hour, the sentiments of nature to prevail over his resolution, and he agreed to sign a paper, in which he acknowledged the doctrines of the papal supremacy and of the real presence. The court, equally persidious and cruel, were determined, that this recantation should avail him nothing; and they sent orders, that he should be required to acknowledge his errors in church before the whole people, and that he should thence be immediately led to execution. Cranmer, whether, that he had received a secret intimation of their design, or had repented

••

st March.of his weakness, surprized the audience by a contrary declaration. He said, that he was well apprized of the obedience which he owed his sovereign and the laws, but this duty extended no farther than to submit patiently to their commands, and to bear without resistance whatever hardships they should impose upon him: That a superior duty, the duly which he owed his Maker, obliged him to speak truth on all occasions, and not to relinquish, by a base denial, the holy doctrine which the supreme being had revealed to mankind: That there was one miscarriage in his life, of which, above all others, he severely repented; the insincere declaration of faith to which he had the weakness to consent, and which the fear of death alone had extorted from him: That he took this opportunity of attoning for his error, by a sincere and open recantation; and was willing to seal with his blood that doctrine which he firmly believed to be communicated from heaven: And that as his hand had erred by betraying his heart, it should first be punished, by a severe but just doom, and should first pay the forfeit of its offences. He was thence led to the stake amidst the insults of the catholics; and having now summoned up all the force of his mind, he bore their scorn as well as the torture of his punishment with singular fortitude. He stretched out his hand, and without betraying, either by his countenance or motions, the least sign of weakness or even of feeling, he held it in the flames till it was entirely consumed. His thoughts seemed entirely occupied with reflections on his former fault; and he called aloud several times, This hand has offended. Satisfied with that attonement, he then discovered a serenity in his countenance; and when the fire attacked his body, he seemed to be wholly insensible of his outward sufferings, and by the force of hope and resolution to have collected his mind altogether within itself, and to repel the fury of the flames. It is pretended, that, after his body was consumed, his heart was found entire and untouched among the ashes; an event, which, as it was the emblem of his constancy, was fondly believed by the zealous protestants. He was undoubtedly a man of merit; possessed of learning and capacity; and adorned with candour, sincerity and beneficence, and all those virtues, which were fitted to render him useful and amiable in society. His moral qualities procured him universal respect; and the courage of his martyrdom, tho' he fell short of the rigid inflexibility observed in many, made him the hero of the protestant party[*].

AFTER Cranmer's death, cardinal Pole, who had now taken priest's orders, was installed in the see of Canterbury; and was thus by this office, as well as his commission of legate, placed at the head of the church of England. But tho' he was averse to all the sanguinary methods of converting heretics, and esteemed the reformation of the clergy the more effectual, as the more laudable expedient for that purpose[†]; he found his authority too weak to oppose the barbarous and bigotted disposition of the Queen and of her counsellors. He himself, he knew, had been suspected of Lutheranism; and as Paul, the reigning pope, was a furious persecutor and his personal enemy, he was prompted, by the modesty of his disposition, to reserve his credit for other occasions, in which he had a greater probability of success[*].

THE great object of the Queen was to engage the nation in the war, which was kindled between France and Spain; and cardinal Pole, with many other counsellors, very openly and zealously opposed this measure. Besides insisting on the marriage articles, which provided against such an attempt, they represented the violence of the domestic factions in England, and the disordered state of the finances; and they foreboded, that the tendency of all these measures was to reduce the kingdom to a total dependance on Spanish councils. Philip had come to London in order to support his partizans; and he told the Queen, that, if he was not gratified in so reasonable a request, he never more would set foot in England. This declaration heightened extremely her zeal for promoting his interests, and overcoming the inflexibility of her council. After employing other menaces of a more violent nature, she threatened to dismiss them all from the board, and to appoint counsellors more obsequious; yet could she not procure a vote for declaring war with France. At last, one Stafford and some other conspirators were detected in a design of surprizing Scarborow[†]; and a confession being extorted from them, that they had been encouraged by Henry in that attempt, the Queen's importunity prevailed; and it was determined to make this act of hostility, with others of a like secret and doubtful nature, the ground of the quarrel. War
War with France.

was accordingly declared against France; and preparations were every where made for attacking that kingdom.

THE revenue of England at that time little exceeded 300,000 pounds[‡]. Any considerable supplies could scarce be expected from Parliament, considering the present disposition of the nation; and as the war would sensibly diminish the branch of the customs, the finances, it was foreseen, would fall short even of the ordinary charges of the government; much more, prove unequal to the vast expences of war. But tho' the Queen owed great arrears to all her servants, besides the loans extorted from her subjects; these considerations had no influence on her, and she continued to levy money in the same arbitrary and violent manner, which she had formerly practised. She obliged the city of London to supply her with 60,000 pounds on her husband's entry; she levied before the legal time the second year's subsidy voted by Parliament; she issued anew many privy seals, by which she procured loans from her people; and having equiped a fleet, which she could not victual by reason of the dearness of provisions, she seized all the corn she could find in Suffolk and Norfolk, without paying any price to the owners. By all these expedients, assisted by the power of pressing, she levied an army of ten thousand men, which she sent over to the Low Countries, under the command of the earl of Pembroke. Meanwhile, in order to prevent any disturbance at home, many of the most considerable gentry were thrown into the Tower; and lest they should be known, the Spanish practice was followed: They were either carried thither in the night-time, or were hoodwinked and muffled by the guards who conducted them‖.

THE King of Spain had assembled together an army, which, after the junction of the English, amounted to above sixty thousand strong, commanded by Philibert, duke of Savoy, one of the greatest captains of the age. The constable, Montmorency, who commanded the French army, had not half the number to oppose him. The duke of Savoy, after menacing Mariembourg and Rocroy, sat down suddenly before St. Quintin; and as the place was weak, and ill provided of a garrison, he expected in a few days to become master of it. But the admiral Coligny, governor of the province, thinking his honour interested to save so important a fortress, threw himself into St. Quintin, with some troops of French and Scotch gensdarmes; and by his exhortation and example animated the soldiers to a vigorous defence. He dispatched a messenger to his uncle, the constable, desiring a supply of men; and that general approached the place with his
10th August.

whole army, in order to facilitate the entry of these succours. But the duke of Savoy falling on the reinforcement, committed such slaughter upon them, that
Battle of St. Quintin.

not above five hundred men got into the place. He next made an attack on the French army, and put them to a total rout, killing four thousand men, and dispersing the rest. In this unfortunate action many of the chief nobility of France were either slain or taken prisoners: Among the latter was the old constable himself, who fighting valiantly, and resolute to die rather than survive his defeat, was surrounded by the enemy, and thus fell alive into their hands. The whole kingdom of France was thrown into consternation. Paris was attempted to be fortified in a hurry: And had the Spaniards presently marched thither, it could not fail to have fallen into their hands. But Philip was very little enterprizing in his character; and he was determined first to take St. Quintin, in order to secure a communication with his own dominions. A very little time, it was expected, would finish this enterprize; but the bravery of Coligny still prolonged the siege seventeen days, which proved the safety of France. Some troops were levied and assembled. Couriers were sent to call the duke of Guise and his army from Italy: And the French having recovered from their first alarm, put themselves in a posture of defence. Philip, after taking Ham and Castelet, found the season so far advanced, that he could attempt no farther enterprize, and he broke up his camp and retired to winter quarters.

BUT the vigilant activity of Guise, not satisfied with securing the frontiers, prompted him, in the depth of winter, to attempt an enterprize which France, during her greatest successes, had always regarded as impossible, and had never thought of undertaking. Calais was, in that age, esteemed an impregnable fortress; and as it was known to be the favourite of the English nation, by whom it could easily be succoured, the recovery of that place by France, was considered as totally desperate. But Coligny had remarked, that, as the town of Calais was surrounded with marshes, which, during the winter, were impassable, except
Calais taken by the French.

over a dyke guarded by two castles, St. Agatha and Newnam bridge, the English were of late accustomed, on account of the lowness of their finances, to dismiss a great part of the garrison at the end of autumn, and to recall them in the spring, at which time alone they judged their attendance necessary. On this circumstance he had founded his design of making a sudden attack on the place; he had caused it to be secretly surveyed by some engineers; and a plan of the whole enterprize being found among his papers, it served, tho' he himself was made prisoner on the taking of St. Quintin, to suggest the project of that undertaking, and to direct the conduct of the duke of Guise.

SEVERAL bodies of troops defiled towards the frontiers under various pretences; and the whole being suddenly assembled, formed an army with which the duke of Guise made an unexpected march towards Calais. At the same time a great number of French ships, being ordered▪ into the channel, under colour of cruizing on the English, composed a fleet which made an attack by sea on the fortifications. The French assaulted St. Agatha with three thousand harquebusiers; and tho' the garrison made a vigorous defence, they were soon obliged to abandon the place, and retreat towards Newnam bridge. The siege of this latter place was immediately undertaken, and at the same time the •leet battered the risbank, which guarded the entry of the harbour; and both these castles seemed exposed to imminent danger. The governor, lord Wentworth, was a brave officer, but finding that the greater part of his weak garrison was enclosed in Newnam or the risbank, he ordered them to capitulate, and to join him in Calais, which, without their assistance, he was utterly unable to defend. The garrison of Newnam bridge were so happy as to effectuate this purpose; but that of the risbank could not obtain such favourable conditions, and were obliged to surrender themselves prisoners.

THE duke of Guise, now holding the place blockaded by sea and land, thought himself secure of succeeding in his enterprize; but in order to prevent all accidents, he delayed not a moment the attack of the place. He pointed his batteries towards the castle, where he made a large breach; and having ordered Andelot, Coligny's brother, to drain the fossée, he commanded an assault, which succeeded, and the French made a lodgment in the castle. On the night following Wentworth attempted to recover this post; but having lost two hundred men in a furious attack which he made upon it[*], he found his garrison so weak, that he was obliged to capitulate. Ham, and Guisnes fell soon after; and thus the duke of Guise, in eight days, during the depth of winter, recovered this important place, that had cost Edward the third a siege of eleven months, at the head of a numerous army, which had that very campaign been victorious in the battle of Cressy. The English had held it above two hundred years; and as it gave them, whenever they pleased, an entry into France, it was regarded as the most important possession belonging to the crown. The joy of the French was extreme, as well as the glory acquired by the duke of Guise, who, at the time that all Europe imagined France to be sunk by the unfortunate battle of St. Quintin, had, in opposition to the English, and their allies the Spaniards, acquired possession of a place which no former King of France, even during the distractions of the civil wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, had ever ventured to attempt. The English, on the other hand, bereaved of this valuable fortress, murmured loudly against the imprudence of the Queen and her council; who, after engaging in a fruitless war, for the sake of foreign interests, had thus exposed the nation to so severe a disgrace. A treasury exhausted by expences, and burthened with debts; a people divided and dejected; a sovereign negligent of her people's welfare; were circumstances which, notwithstanding the fair offers made by Philip, gave them small hopes of recovering Calais. And as the Scotch, instigated by French councils, began to move on the borders, they were now necessitated rather to look to their defence at home, than to think of foreign conquests.

Affairs of Scotland.

AFTER the peace, which, in consequence of King Edward's treaty with Henry, took place between Scotland and England, the Queen-dowager, under pretence of visiting her daughter and her relations, made a journey to France, and she carried along with her the earls of Huntley, Sutherland, Marischal, and many of the principal nobility. Her secret design was to take measures for engaging the earl of Arran to resign to her the government of the kingdom; and as her brothers, the duke of Guise, the cardinal of Lorraine, and the duke d'Aumale, had uncontrouled authority in the court of France, she easily persuaded Henry, and by his means the Scotch nobles, to enter into her measures. Having also gained over Carnegy of Kinnaird, Panter, bishop of Ross, and Gavin Hamilton, commendator of Kilwinning, three creatures of the governor's, she persuaded him, by their means, to consent to this resignation[†]; and when every thing was thus prepared for her purpose, she took her journey to Scotland, and passed thro' England in her way thither. Edward received her with great respect and civility; tho' he could not forbear attempting a renewal of the old treaty for his marriage with her daughter: A marriage, he said, so happily calculated for the tranquillity, interest, and security of both kingdoms, and the only means of ensuring a durable peace between them. For his part, he added, he never could entertain a cordial amity for any other husband whom she should choose; nor was it easy for him to forgive a man, who, at the same time that he disappointed so natural an alliance, had bereaved him of a bride, to whom his affections, from his earliest infancy, had been entirely engaged. The Queen eluded these applications, by telling him, that if any measures had been taken disagreeable to him, they were entirely owing to the imprudence of the duke of Somerset, who, instead of employing courtesy, caresses, and gentle offices, the proper means of gaining a young princess, had had recourse to arms and violence, and had constrained the Scotch nobility to send their sovereign into France, in order to interest that kingdom in protecting their liberty and independance[‡].

WHEN the Queen-dowager arrived in Scotland, she found the governor very unwilling to fulfil his engagements; and it was not till after many delays that he could be persuaded to resign his authority. But finding that the majority of the young princess was approaching, and that the Queen-dowager had gained the affections of all the principal nobility, he thought it more prudent to submit; and having stipulated, that he should be declared next heir to the crown, and should be fre•d from giving any account of his past administration, he placed her in possession of the power; and she thenceforth assumed the name of regent‖. It was an usual saying of this princess, that provided she could render her friends happy, and could ensure to herself a good reputation, she was entirely indifferent what besel her; and tho' this sentiment is greatly censured by the zealous reformers[*], as being founded wholly on secular motives, it dis•overs a mind well calculated for the administration of kingdoms. D'Oisel, a Frenchman, celebrated for capacity, had attended her as ambass•dor from Henry, but in reality to assist her with his counsels in so delicate an undertaking as the government of Scotland; and this man had formed a scheme for laying a general tax on the kingdom, in order to support a standing military force, which might at once repulse the inroads of foreign enemies, and check the turbulence of the Scotch nobility. But tho' some of the courtiers were gained over to this project, it gave great and general discontent to the nation; and the Queen-regent, after ingenuously confessing, that it would prove pernicious to the kingdom, had the prudence to desist from it, and to trust entirely for her security to the goodwill and affections of her subjects[†].

THIS laudable purpose seemed to be the chief object of her administration; yet was she sometimes drawn from it by her connections with France, and by the influence which her brothers had acquired over her. When Mary declared war against that kingdom, Henry required the Queen-regent to take part in the quarrel; and she summoned a convention of states at Newbottle, and requested them to concur in a declaration of war against England. The Scotch nobles, who were as jealous of French as the English were of Spanish influence, refused their assent; and the Queen was obliged to have recourse to artifice, in order to effectuate her purpose. She ordered d'Oisel to begin some fortifications at Eymouth, a place which had been dismantled by the last treaty with Edward; and when the garrison of Berwic, as she foresaw, made an inroad to prevent the undertaking, she effectually employed this pretence to inflame the Scotch nation, and to engage them in hostilities against England[‡]. The enterprize, however, of the Scotch proceeded no farther than some inroads on the borders; and when d'Oisel, of himself, conducted artillery and troops to besiege the castle of Werke, he was recalled, and very sharply rebuked by the council‖.

Marriage of the dauphin and the Queen of Scots.

IN order to connect Scotland more closely with France, and to increase the influence of the latter kingdom, it was thought proper by Henry to compleat the marriage between the young Queen and the dauphin; and a deputation was sent by the Scotch Parliament, to assist at this ceremony, and to settle the terms of the contract. This deputation consisted of the archbishop of Glasgow, the bishops of Ross and the Orkneys, the earls of Rothes, and Cassilis, the lords Fleming and Seton, James Stuart, prior of St. Andrews, natural brother to the Queen, and Erskine of Dun. The principal conditions recommended to these commissioners, was to obtain a solemn engagement from the Queen and dauphin, that they would preserve the laws and privileges of Scotland, and to procure a renewal of the French King's promise, to support, in case of the Queen's death, the succession of the earl of Arran, now created duke of Chatolraut. Both these conditions were easily obtained; but the court of France took a very perfidious step, directly contrary to these stipulations: They secretly engaged the young Queen to sign three papers; by one of which she made over the kingdom of Scotland in gift to the King of France, in case of her decease without children; by another she mortgaged it to him for a million of crowns of gold, or such greater sum as he should have expended for her maintenance and support; and by a third she declared, that whatever deed she had been obliged, or should hereafter be obliged to perform, relative to the succession of the crown, it should be entirely invalid, and that her real sense and intention was contained in the first paper. The marriage was solemnized
24 April.

at Paris: The commissioners, in the name of the states of Scotland, swore allegiance to the Queen, and, during the continuance of the marriage, to the King-dauphin, so he was called: And every thing seemed to proceed with great unanimity and concord. But the commissioners being required to deliver up the crown, and other ensigns of royalty, made answer, that they had received no authority for that purpose; and they soon after set out on their journey for Scotland. It is remarkable, that before they embarked, four of the commissioners died, within a few days of each other; and a violent, tho' absurd suspicion prevailed, that they had been poisoned by orders from the family of Guise, on account of this refusal[*]. It was not considered, that that accident, however rare, might have happened by the course of nature; and that the present season, tho' not attended with any pestilential disorder, was, to a singular degree, unhealthy all over Europe.

THE close alliance between France and Scotland threatned very nearly the repose and security of England; and it was foreseen, that, tho' the factions and disorders which might naturally be expected in the Scotch government during the absence of their sovereign, made its power less formidable, that kingdom would at least afford to the French a means of invading England. The Queen, therefore, found it
20th January▪

necessary to summon a Parliament, and to demand of them some supplies to her exhausted
A Parliament.

exchequer. As such an emergency usually gives great advantage to the people, and as the Parliaments, during this reign, had shewn, that, where the liberty and independency of the kingdom were menaced with imminent danger, they were not entirely overawed by the court; we shall naturally expect, that the late arbitrary methods of extorting money should, at least, be censured, and, perhaps, some remedy be for the future provided against them. But such an exorbitant prerogative was at this time acknowleged to belong to the crown, that, tho' men might complain of its present abuses, all attempts to retrench it would have been regarded as the most criminal enterprize; and as that prerogative involved a large discretionary power, any parliamentary enquiry into its exercise, would have passed for insolent and presumptuous. The commons, therefore, without making any reflections on the past, voted, besides a fifteenth, a subsidy of four shillings in the pound on land, and two shillings and eight pence on goods. The clergy granted eight shillings in the pound, payable in four years by equal portions.

THE Parliament also passed an act, confirming all the sales and grants of crown lands, which were either made already by the Queen, or should be made during the seven ensuing years. It was easy to foresee, that, in the Queen's present disposition and situation, this power would be followed by a great alienation of the crown lands; and nothing could be more contrary to the principles of good government, than a prince armed with very extensive authority, and yet reduced to beggary. This act met with opposition in the house of commons. One Copley expressed his fears lest the Queen, under colour of the power there granted, might alienate the crown from the lawful heir: But his words were thought irreverent to her majesty: He was committed to the custody of the serjeant at arms; and tho' he expressed sorrow for his offence, he was not released till the Queen was applied to for his forgiveness.

THE English nation, during this whole reign, were in continual apprehensions with regard not only to the succession, but the life of the lady Elizabeth. The violent hatred which the Queen bore her, broke out on every occasion; and it required all the authority of Philip, as well as her own great prudence, to prevent the fatal effects of it. The princess retired into the country; and knowing that she was surrounded with spies, she past her time wholly in reading and study, intermeddled in no business, and saw very little company. While she remained in this situation, which was for the present very melancholy, but which prepared her mind for those great actions by which her life was afterwards so much distinguished; proposals of marriage were made her by the Swedish ambassador, in his master's name. As her first question was, whether the Queen had been informed of this proposal; the ambassador told her, that his master thought, as he was a gentleman, it was his duty first to make his addresses to herself; and having obtained her consent, he would next, as a King, apply to her sister. But the princess would allow him to proceed no further; and the Queen, after thanking her for this instance of duty, desired to know how she stood affected to the Swedish proposal. Elizabeth, tho' exposed to many present dangers and mortifications, had the magnanimity to reserve herself to better fortune; and she covered her refusal with professions of a passionate attachment to a single life, which, she said, she infinitely preferred before any other[*]. The princess showed like prudence in concealing her sentiments of religion, in complying with the present modes of worship, and in eluding all questions with regard to that delicate subject[†].

THE money granted by Parliament, enabled the Queen to fit out a fleet of a hundred and forty sail, which, being joined by thirty Flemish ships, and carrying six thousand land forces on board, was sent to make an attempt on the coast of Brittany. The fleet was commanded by lord Clinton; the land forces by the earls of Huntingdon and Rutland. But the equipment of the fleet and army was so dilatory, that the French got intelligence of the design, and were prepared to receive them. The English found Brest too well guarded to make an attempt on that place; but landing at Conquet, they plundered and burnt the town with some adjoining villages, and were proceeding to commit greater disorders, when Kersimon, a Breton gentleman, at the head of some militia, fell upon them, put them to rout, and drove them to their ships with considerable loss. But a small squadron of ten English ships, had an opportunity of amply revenging this disgrace upon the French. The Mareschal de Thermes, governor of Calais, had made an irruption into Flanders, with an army of fourteen thousand men; and having forced a passage over the river Aa, had taken Dunkirk, and Berg St. Winoc, and had advanced as far as Newport. But count Egmont coming suddenly upon him, with superior forces, he was obliged to retire; and being overtaken by the Spaniards near Gravelines, he chose very skilfully his ground for the engagement. He fortified his left wing with all the precautions possible; and posted his right along the river Aa, which, he reasonably thought, gave him a full security from that quarter. But the English ships, which were accidentally on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing, sailed up the river, and flanking the French, did such execution by their artillery, that they put them to flight; and the Spaniards gained a compleat victory[‡].

MEANWHILE the principal army of France, under the duke of Guise, and that of Spain, under the duke of Savoy, approached very near each other on the frontiers of Picardy; and as the two Kings had come into their respective camps, attended by the flower of their nobility, men expected that some great and important event would follow, from the emulation of these warlike nations. But Philip, tho' actuated by the ambition, possessed not the enterprize, of a conqueror; and he was willing, notwithstanding the superiority of his numbers, and the two great victories which he had gained at St. Quintin and Gravelines, to put a period to the war by a treaty. Negociations were entered into for that purpose; and as the terms offered by the two monarchs were somewhat wide of each other, the armies were put into winter quarters, till the princes could come to better agreement. Among other conditions, Henry demanded the restitution of Navarre to its lawful owner; Philip that of Calais and its territory to England: But in the midst of these negociations and debates, news arrived of the death of Queen Mary; and Philip, no longer connected with England, began to relax in his instances on that capital article. This was the only circumstance which could have made the death of that princess a loss to the kingdom.

MARY had been long in a very declining state of health; and having mistaken her dropsy for a pregnancy, she had made use of an improper regimen, and her malady daily augmented. Every reflection now tormented her: The consciousness of being hated by her subjects, the prospect of Elizabeth's succession, apprehensions of the danger to which the catholic religion stood exposed, dejection for the loss of Calais‖, concern for the ill state of her affairs, and, above all, anxiety for the absence of her husband, who, she knew, intended soon to depart for Spain, and to settle there during the rest of his life: All these melancholy circumstances preyed upon her mind, and threw her into a lingering fever, of
Death of the Queen.

which she died, after a short and unfortunate reign of five years, four months,
17 November.

and eleven days.

IT is not necessary to employ many words in drawing the character of this princess. She possessed few qualities, either estimable or amiable; and her person was as little engaging as her behaviour and address. Obstinacy, bigotry, violence, cruelty, malignity, revenge, tyranny; every circumstance of her character took a tincture from her bad temper and narrow understanding. And amidst that complication of vices, which entered into her composition, we shall scarce find any virtue but sincerity; a quality, which she seems to have maintained throughout her whole life; except in the beginning of her reign, when the necessity of her affairs obliged her to make some promises to the protestants, which she certainly never intended to perform. But in these cases a weak bigotted woman, under the government of priests, easily finds casuistry sufficient to justify to herself the violation of an engagement. She appears also, as well as her father, to have been susceptible of some attachments of friendship; and that without the caprice and inconstancy which were so remarkable in the conduct of that monarch. To which we may add, that, in many circumstances of her life, she gave indications of resolution and vigour of mind; a quality, which seems to have been inherent in her family.

CARDINAL Pole had been long in a declining state of health from an intermiting fever; and he died the same day with the Queen, about sixteen hours after her. The benign character of this prelate, the modesty and humanity of his deportment, made him be universally beloved; insomuch that in a nation, where the most furious persecution was carried on, and the most violent religious factions prevailed, entire justice, even by most of the reformers, has been done to his merit. The haughty pontiff, Paul the fourth, had entertained some prejudices against him; and when England declared war against Henry, the ally of that pope, he seized the opportunity of revenge, and revoking Pole's legantine commission, appointed in his room cardinal Peyto, an observantine friar and confessor to the Queen. But Mary would never permit the new legate to exercise his power; and Paul was afterwards obliged to restore cardinal Pole to his authority.

THERE occur few general remarks, besides what have been taken notice of in the course of our narration, with regard to the general state of the kingdom during this reign. The naval power of England was then so inconsiderable, that fourteen thousand pounds being ordered to be applied to the fleet by the treasurer and admiral, both for repairing and victualling it, they computed, that, when that money was expended, ten thousand pounds a year would afterwards answer a•• necessary charges[*]. The arbitrary proceedings of the Queen, abovementioned, j•ined to many monopolies granted by this princess, as well as by her father, 〈◊〉 very much the growth of trade; and so much the more, that all other princes in Europe either were not permitted or did not find it necessary to act in so tyranni•al a manner. Acts of Parliament, both in the last reign and in the beginning of the present, had laid the same impositions on the merchants of the s••ll yard as on other aliens: Yet the Queen, immediately after her marriage, comp•ied with the sollicitations of the emperor, and, by her prerogative, suspended these acts of Parliament[†]. No body in that age pretended to question this exercise of the prerogative. The historians are entirely silent with regard to it; and it is only by the collection of public papers that it is handed down to us.

AN absurd law had been made in the preceding reign, by which every one was prohibited from making cloth unless he had served an apprenticeship for seven years. This law was repealed in the first year of the Queen's reign; and this plain reason given, that it had occasioned the decay of the woolen manufactory, and had ruined several towns[‡]. It is strange that Edward's law should have been revived during the reign of Elizabeth; and still more strange, that it should still subsist.

A PASSAGE to Archangel, by the north of Nova Zembla, had been discovered by the English during the last reign; and a beneficial trade with Muscovy had been established. A solemn embassy was sent by the Czar to Queen Mary. The ambassadors were shipwrecked on the coast of Scotland; but being hospitably entertained there, they proceeded on their journey, and were received at London with great pomp and solemnity[*]. This seems to have been the first intercourse, which that empire had with any of the western potentates of Europe.

A LAW was passed in this reign‖, by which the number of horses, arms, and furniture, was established, which each person, according to the extent of his property, should be provided of for the defence of the kingdom. A man of a thousand pounds a year, for instance, was obliged to maintain at his own charges six horses fit for demi-lances, of which three at least to be furnished with sufficient harnesses, steel saddles, and weapons proper for the demi-lances; and ten light horses fit for light horsemen, with furniture and weapons requisite for them: He was also obliged to have forty corslets furnished; fifty almain rivets, or instead of them, forty coats of plate, corslets or brigandines furnished; forty pikes, thirty long bows, thirty sheafs of arrows, thirty steel caps or skulls, twenty black bills or halberts, twenty haquebuts, and twenty morions or sallets. We may remark, that a man of a thousand merks of stock was rated equal to one of two hundred pounds a year: A proof that few or none at that time lived on their stock in money, and that great profits were made by the merchants in the course of their trade. There is no class above a thousand pounds a year.

Notes

*
Sleidan▪ lib. 25.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 154.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II. p. 233.
↵

§
Fox, vol. III. p. 14.
↵

*
Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 2.
↵

†
Godwin in Kennet, p. 329. Heylin, p. 149. Burnet, vol. II. p. 234.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 159.
↵

‖
Ibid. p. 160.
↵

*
Godwin, p. 330. Heylin, p. 162. Burnet, vol. II. p. 236, 238.
↵

†
Stowe, p. 611. Hollingshed, p. 1087. S
••
ype's Mem. vol. III. p. 3.

↵

‡
Fox, vol. III. p. 15. Baker, p. 31
•
. Speed, p. 816.

↵

‖
Heylin, p. 160. Burnet, vol. II. p. 2
•
7.

↵

§
Godwin, p. 330. Heylin, p. 159. Burnet, vol. II. p. 239. Fox, vol. III. p. 15.
↵

**
Heylin, p. 1
•
1. Baker, p. 315. Hollingshed, p. 1086.

↵

‡
Speed, p. 816.
↵

‖
Godwin, p. 3
•
1.

↵

§
Ibid. p. 331, 332. Thuanus, lib. xiii.
↵

*
Godwin, p. 332. Thuan. lib. xiii. c. 2.
↵

†
Stowe, p. 612.
↵

**
Burnet, vol. II. p. 240. Heylin, p. 19. Stowe, p. 613.
↵

††
Burnet, vol. II. p. 239. Stowe, p. 612. Baker, p. 315. Hollingshed, p. 1088.
↵

§
Burnet, vol. II. p. 243. Heylin, p. 18. Baker, p. 316. Hollingshed, p. 1089.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 19. Burnet, vol. III. p. 243. Stowe, p. 614.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 20. Stowe, p. 61
•
Holingshed, p. 1088.

↵

‖
Stowe, p.
•
16.

↵

*
Heylin, p. 23. Fox, vol. III. p. 16. Strype's Mem. vol. III. p. 26.
↵

†
Godwin, p. 336.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II. p. 247. Fox, vol. III. p. 15, 19. Baker, p. 31
•
.

↵

‖
Burnet, vol II. p. 215.
↵

**
Ibid. p. 240, 241. Heylin, p. 25. Godwin, p. 33
•
.

↵

*
Fox, vol. III. p. 94. Heylin, p. 2
•
. Godwin, p. 3

•

6. Burnet, vol. II. Coll. No 8. Cranm. Mem. p. 3
•
5. Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 2.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 26. Godwin, p. 336. Cranm. Mem. p. 317.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 2
•
.

↵

‖
Saunders de Schism. Angli
•
.

↵

{inverted †}
Beale. But Fox, who lived at the time, and is very minute in his narratives, says nothing of the matter. See vol. III. p. 16.
↵

*
Fox, vol. III. p. 19.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. p. 252.
↵

‡
Mariae, sess. 1. c. 1. By this repeal, tho' it was in general popular, the clause of 5 and 6 Edw. VI. c. 11. was lost, which required the confronting two witnesses, in order to prove any treason.
↵

‖
Mariae, sess. 2. c. 1.
↵

§
1 Mariae, sess. 2. c. 12.
↵

*
Thuan. lib. ii. c. 3.
↵

†
Godwin, p. 339.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 31. Bu
•
net, vol II. p. 255.

↵

‖
Father Paul, book iii.
↵

§
Heylin, p. 31.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 258.
↵

†
Thuanus, lib. iv. c. 17.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 2
••

↵

*
Collier, vol. II. p. 356. Fox, vol. III. p. 22.
↵

†
Mem. of Cranm. p. 334. Heylin, p. 50.
↵

†
Harm
•
r, p. 1

•

8.
↵

‡
Collier, vol. II. p 36
•
. Fox, vol. III. p.

•

8. Heylin, p.
〈…〉
lib 25.
↵

*
Rymer, XV. p. 377.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 32. Burnet, vol. II. p. 268. Godwin, p. 339.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 340.
↵

‡
Fox, vol. III. p. 30.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 341. Stowe, p. 619.
〈◊〉
p. 3

••

. Holingshed, p. 1094.
↵

†
Fox, vol. III. p. 31. Heylin, p.
•
1. Burnet, vol. II. p.

〈…〉

p.
•
21.
↵

*
Godwin, p. 343. Burnet, vol. II. p. 273. Fox, vol. III. p. 99, 105. Strype's Mem. vol. III. p. 85.
↵

†
Fox, vol. III. p. 35. Heylin, p. 166.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 167. Baker, p. 319.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 167.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 167. Fox. vol. III. p. 36, 37. Holingshed, p. 1099.
↵

*
Fox, vol. III. p. 99. Stowe, p. 624. Baker, p. 320. Hollingshed, p. 1104, 1121. Strype, vol. III. p. 120.
↵

†
Carte, vol. III. p. 310, from Ambass. de
〈◊〉
.

↵

*
1 Mar. P
••
l. 2. cap.

•

.
↵

‡
Ib. cap.
•
.

↵

§
Ib. cap.
•
.

↵

*
Strype, vol. III. p. 125.
↵

*

〈◊〉
, vol III. p. 99. Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. III. p. 3

••

. Godwin,
〈…〉
Sir William Monson, p.
•••
, that the admiral of England
〈◊〉
at the
〈…〉
was on board;
••
cause they had not lowered their top
•
ail, as
〈…〉
in the
〈…〉
. A very
〈…〉
and very
〈…〉

↵

†

〈◊〉
p

••

0.
↵

‡
Mem. of
〈…〉
.

↵

§
Burnet, vol. II p.
•••
. Strype, vol. III p.

•••

.
↵

‖
Fox, vol. III. p. iii. Heylin, p. 42. Burnet, vol. II. p. 293. Godwin, p. 247.
↵

§
Fathe
•
Paul, lib. iv.

↵

*
Heylin, p. 41.
↵

†
1 & 2 Phil. & Mar. c. 3.
↵

‡
Heylin, p. 4
•
. 1 & 2 Phil. & Mar. c 3. Strype, vol. III. p. 159.

↵

‖
The pope at first gave cardinal Pole powers to transact only with regard to the past fruit
•
of the church lands; but being admonished of the danger attending any attempt towards a resumption of the lands, he enlarged the cardinal's power, and granted him authority to

〈◊〉

the future possession of the church land
•
to the present proprietors. There was only one
〈◊〉
in the cardinal's powers that has given occasion for some specula
•
ion. An exception was made of
〈…〉
think important enough to merit the being communicated to the holy
〈◊〉
. Pu
•
Pole
〈…〉
the
〈◊〉
of the whole church lands; and his commision had given him full pow
••
to
〈…〉
Harl
•
yan Mis
•
ellany, vol. VII. p.
•
64,
•
66. It is true, some councils have
〈…〉
the power of the pope to alienate any church
〈◊〉
and
〈…〉
to
〈…〉
either adhere to or recede from this
〈…〉
.
↵

*
1 &
〈…〉
& M

•

r. c 6.
↵

†

〈…〉

↵

‡

〈…〉

↵

§
Godwin,
〈…〉
. Baker, p.

•••

.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. II. p. 287. Stowe, p. 626.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 40. Godw
••
, p.

••

9.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. p. 292. Godwin, p. 3
•
8.

↵

‡
Heylin, p. 46.
↵

‖
Coke's Institutes, part iv. p. 1
•
. Strype's M

•

mor. vol III. p. 165.
↵

*

〈◊〉
p 17.

↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. Heylin, p. 47. It is not likely, however, that Charles gave any such advice: For he himself was at this very time proceeding with great violence in persecuting the reformed in Flanders. Bentivoglio, part i. lib. 1.
↵

†
Fox, vol. III. p. 119. Burnet, vol. II. p. 302.
↵

‡
Fox, vol. III. p. 145, &c. Burnet, vol. II. p. 302. Heylin, p. 48, 49. Godwin, p. 349.
↵

‖
Strype, vol. III. p. 261. and Coll. No 58.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 47, 48.
↵

†
Fox, vol. III. p. 187.
↵

‡
Ibid. p. 216.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. II. p. 318. Heylin, p. 52.
↵

*
Fox, vol. III. p. 265.
↵

†
Ibid. p. 747. Heylin, p 57. Burnet, vol. II. p. 337.
↵

‡
Ibid. p. 306.
↵

‖
Heylin, p. 56.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. Coll. 32.
↵

†
Burnet, vol III. p. 243.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. III. p. 246, 247.
↵

‖
Burnet, vol. II. p. 363. Heylin, p. 79.
↵

*
Father Paul, lib▪ 5.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 45.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 45. Father Paul, lib. 5.
↵

‡
Father Paul, lib 5
↵

§
Father Paul, lib. 5. Heylin, p. 45.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 53, 65. Hollingshed, p. 1127. Speed, p. 826.
↵

‡
Burnet, vol. II. p. 32
•
.

↵

*
2 and 3 Phil. and Mar. cap. 4.
↵

*
Godwin, p. 359. Cowper's Chronicle. Burnet, vol. II. p. 359. Carte, p. 330, 333, 337, 341▪ Strype's Memor. vol. III. p. 428, 558. Annals, vol. I. p. 15.
↵

†
Thuan. lib. XVI. c. 20.
↵

*
Father Paul, lib. 5.
↵

*
Mem. of Cranm p.
〈◊〉
.

↵

†
Heylin, p
••
. M

••

p
〈◊〉
.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. p. 331, 332, &c. Godwin, p. 352.
↵

†
Burnet, vol. II. 324, 325.
↵

*
Heylin, p. 68, 69. Burnet, vol. II. p. 327.
↵

†
Heylin, p. 72. Burnet, vol II. p 351. Sir James Melvil's Memoirs.
↵

‡
Rosse, Successi d'Inglulte
•
ra.

↵

‖
Strype's Eccles. Memorials, vol. III. p. 3
••
.

↵

*
Thuan, lib. xx. c. 2.
↵

†
B
•
channan, lib

•

iv. K
••
h. p. 56. Spotswood, p. 92.
↵

‡

〈◊〉
p.

〈◊〉

.
↵

‖

〈◊〉
April 1554.

↵

*

〈◊〉
p. 8

•

.
↵

†
Keith, p. 70. Buchan. lib. xvi.
↵

‡
Buchan. lib. xvi. Thuan. lib. xix. c. 7.
↵

‖
Knox, p. 93.
↵

*
Buchan. lib. xvi. Keith, p. 75. Spotswood, p. 95.
↵

*
Burnet, vol. II. Collect. No 37.
↵

†

The common net at that time, says Sir Richard Baker, for catching of protestants, was the real presence; and this net was used to catch the lady Elizabeth: For being asked one time what she thought of the words of Christ, This is my body, whether she thought it the true body of Christ that was in the sacrament; it is said, that, after some pausing, she thus answered:

Christ was the word that spake it;

He took the bread and brake it;

And what the word did make it,

That I believe and take it.

Which, tho' it may seem but a slight expression, yet hath it more solidness than at first sight appears; at least it served her turn at that time, to escape the net, which by direct answer she could not have done. Baker's Chronicle, p. 320.

↵

‡
Holingshed▪ p. 1150.
↵

‖
The loss of Calais so much affected her, that she said to her attendant
•
, that when she was dead, they would find Calais at her heart.

↵

*
Burnet, vol. III. p.
••
9.

↵

†
Rymer, vol. XV. p. 364.
↵

‡
1 Mar. Parl. 2. cap. 7.
↵

*
Hollingshed, p. 732. Heylin, p. 71.
↵

‖
4 & 5 Phil. & Mar. cap. 2.
↵

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The history of England: under the House of Tudor. ... By David Hume, Esq; In two volumes. ... [pt.1]

Hume, David, 1711-1776.

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— The history of England: under the House of Tudor. ... By David Hume, Esq; In two volumes. ..., Hume, David, 1711-1776.. 2v.(viii,739,[1]p.) ; 4⁰. London :: printed for A. Millar,. 1759.. [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT85928.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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