CHAP. I.

year 1485 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 quar⯑ters. 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, [2] 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 deter⯑mine 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 Lancaſ⯑ter, 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 deter⯑mined 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 con⯑vulſions at preſent, and which disjointed for the future the whole ſyſtem of here⯑ditary 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 obſti⯑nacy 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, con⯑firmed in Parliament; it might juſtly be doubted, whether this Deed could be⯑ſtow 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 over⯑looked; 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 [3] 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 uni⯑verſally 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 ce⯑lebrate, 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 con⯑queſt 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 eſta⯑bliſhment of deſpotic authority in the ſovereign^†. William himſelf, the Nor⯑man, 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 eſta⯑bliſhment of his authority that he had ventured to advance ſo violent and de⯑ſtructive 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, ſup⯑ported by no better pretenſion, had ſubdued many inſurrections, and had at laſt [4] 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, Hen⯑ry 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, fa⯑voured 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 preju⯑dice 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 re⯑venges which they had mutually exerciſed on each other, had inflamed the oppo⯑ſite 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 ren⯑dered 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 [5] 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-Hut⯑ton, 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 mili⯑tary triumph; and ſo to reſtrain the inſolence of victory, that every thing about him bore the appearance of an eſtabliſhed monarch, making a peaceable pro⯑greſs thro' his dominions, rather than of a prince who had opened a way to the throne by force of arms. His joyful re⯑ception 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 Eli⯑zabeth, 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 pre⯑pared 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 [6] 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 cele⯑brate his marriage with Elizabeth. His corona⯑tion. 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 ſick⯑neſs. 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 hu⯑man 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 diſ⯑covered, to be conſiderably abated^*. Preparations were then made for the ce⯑remony 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 Oc⯑tober. 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 peo⯑ple 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 No⯑vember. 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 [7] 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 con⯑tained 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 him⯑ſelf 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 cor⯑ruptions of blood diſcharged^‡."’ Beſides the urgent neceſſity of the caſe, which admitted of no deliberation; the judges probably thought, that no ſen⯑tence of a court of judicature ought to bar the right of ſucceſſion; that the jea⯑louſy of a King towards his heir might readily occaſion ſtretches of law and juſ⯑tice 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 pre⯑tenſions. In his firſt addreſs [...]o the Parliament he mentioned his juſt title by here⯑ditary 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 [8] 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 en⯑tirely free from uncertainty and obſcurity. It was voted, ‘"That the inheri⯑tance of the crown ſhould reſt, remain, and abide in the King^*;"’ but whe⯑ther 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 con⯑firmation 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 autho⯑rity, 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 deter⯑mine, and nothing but a ſervile complaiſance in the Parliament could have en⯑gaged them to make this ſtretch of juſtice. Nor was it a ſmall mortification to [9] the people in general, to find, that the King, prompted either by avarice or re⯑ſentment, 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 ex⯑pectation 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 De⯑cember. 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, how⯑ever, 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 genero⯑ſity, 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 Bri⯑tanny 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 [10] 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, dur⯑ing 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.

year 1486 18th of Janu⯑ary. 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 peo⯑ple in that particular. King's mar⯑riage. 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 obſe⯑quious 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 ar⯑rival in England, that he thought nothing could withſtand the fortune, and au⯑thority 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 inſurrec⯑tion. He there heard, that the Staffords had levied an army in the [11] 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 cou⯑rage, 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 at⯑tendants; 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 diſ⯑perſed themſelves. The Staffords took ſanctuary in the church of Colnham, a vil⯑lage 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 Sep⯑tember. 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 preju⯑dice 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 [12] 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 York⯑party, 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 mur⯑dered 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, en⯑tertained 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 Sim⯑nel. 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 under⯑ſtanding 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 peo⯑ple, 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 qua⯑lified 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 par⯑ticularly 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 [13] 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 dow⯑ager 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 ty⯑rant, 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 inſig⯑nificance, her daughter treated with ſeverity, and all her friends brought under ſub⯑jection, ſhe had conceived the moſt violent animoſity againſt Henry, and had re⯑ſolved 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 there⯑fore 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 pre⯑deceſſor, 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 Ire⯑land. Fond of a novelty, which flattered their natural propen⯑ſion, 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 ap⯑pellation [14] 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 per⯑plexity. Determined always to face his enemies in perſon, he yet ſcrupled at pre⯑ſent 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 con⯑trivance, and take meaſures againſt this open revolt, he held frequent conſulta⯑tions 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 Bermon⯑deſey. 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 allevia⯑tions, 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 after⯑wards 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 in⯑volved 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 [15] 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 pro⯑miſe. 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 far⯑ther 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 Flan⯑ders, 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 poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 [16] year 1487 and Lovel, ſhe hired a body of two thouſand veteran Germans, under the com⯑mand 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 Sim⯑nel 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 Lanca⯑ſhire, he drew together his own troops, and advanced towards them as far as Co⯑ventry. 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 re⯑putation 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 tem⯑per, 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 ex⯑pected from the inequality of their force. All the leaders of the rebels were re⯑ſolved 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 [17] 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 ex⯑cite 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 pro⯑greſs 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 delin⯑quents. In giving ſentence, the proceedings of the courts, and even the courts themſelves, were entirely arbitrary. Either the criminals were tried by commiſ⯑ſioners 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 cere⯑mony, 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 No⯑vember. 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.

year 1488 State of fo⯑reign affairs. THE King acquired great reputation throughout all Europe by the proſpe⯑rous 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 Scot⯑land. THE kingdom of Scotland had not as yet attained that ſtate, which diſtin⯑guiſhes a civilized monarchy, and which enables the government, by the force of its laws and inſtitutions alone, without any extraordinary capacity in the ſove⯑reign, 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 [19] extremities againſt their ſovereign. Had Henry entertained the ambition of con⯑queſts, a tempting opportunity now offered of reducing that kingdom to ſubjec⯑tion; 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 ſitua⯑tion, 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 hi⯑thertobeen 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 ad⯑vantageous 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, Marga⯑ret, then an infant, in marriage to the Dauphin; together with Artois, Franche⯑comté, and Charolois as her dowry. But this alliance had not produced the deſired effect. The dauphin ſucceeded to the crown of France under the appel⯑lation [20] 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 an⯑tient 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 or⯑der; 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 fa⯑vourable 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 [21] 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 Bri⯑tanny, 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 pre⯑ſerve 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 inva⯑ſion of Bri⯑tanny. 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 me⯑naced 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 [22] of Henry's ſucceſs againſt Simnel and his partizans, than they diſpatched ambaſſa⯑dors to the court of London, and made profeſſions of the utmoſt truſt and con⯑fidence in that monarch.

French em⯑baſſy to Eng⯑land. THE ambaſſadors, after congratulating Henry on the late victory, and com⯑municating 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 diſ⯑courſe 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 dange⯑rous 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 immedi⯑ately 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 obli⯑gations 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 aſſiſt⯑aexcl=Yce to that kingdom, he would at leaſt preſerve a neutrality between the con⯑tending 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, [23] 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, inſupe⯑rable 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 per⯑ſeverance; 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 di⯑verſion 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 aſſiſt⯑ance, would permit ſuch an acceſſion of force to be made to her rival. He imagined, therefore, that the miniſters of France, convinced of the impractica⯑bility 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 Bri⯑tanny, 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 [24] 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 ex⯑pected, 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 arma⯑ments, 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 con⯑tinued 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 [25] 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 noble⯑man, 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 Eng⯑liſh 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 Septem⯑ber. 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 over⯑looked 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 Bri⯑tanny. 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 inſurrec⯑tion in the North. The counties of Durham and York, always diſcontented with Henry's government, and far⯑ther provoked by the late oppreſſions, under which they had laboured, after the ſuppreſſion of Simnel's rebellion, reſiſted the commiſſioners who were ap⯑pointed to levy the new tax. The commiſſioners, terrified with this appear⯑ance 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 per⯑nicious [26] conſequences of ſuch a precedent, renewed his orders for a ſtrict levy of the impoſition. Northumberland ſummoned together the juſtices and chief free⯑holders, 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 de⯑livered 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 Egre⯑mond 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 Sur⯑rey, 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 abſo⯑lutely 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 Par⯑liament, 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 ur⯑gent; he found himſelf under the neceſſity of taking ſome meaſures, in order to ſup⯑port 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 op⯑poſing himſelf to the progreſs of the French power. Beſides entering into a league with Maximilian, and another with Ferdinand, which were diſtant re⯑ſources, he levied a body of troops, to the number of 6000 men, with an in⯑tention of tranſporting them into Britanny. year 1489 Still anxious, however, for the pay⯑ment 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 [27] 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 Bri⯑tanny, that no meaſures could be concerted for any undertaking; no ſupply ob⯑tained; 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 far⯑ther 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 impor⯑tant conjuncture afforded his ally, whom the invaſion of a foreign enemy, concur⯑ring 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 Al⯑bert, was unable to ſupport Anne in her preſent extremities; and he recommended ſome more powerful alliance, particularly that of Maximilian, King of the Ro⯑mans. year 1490 This party at laſt prevailed; the marriage with Maximilian was celebrated by proxy; and the dutcheſs thenceforth aſſumed the title of queen of the Ro⯑mans. 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 ſub⯑ject on of Britanny. Charles had formerly been aſſianced to Margaret daughter of Maximilian; who, tho' too young to conſummate her marriage, had been [28] 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 Bur⯑gundy; 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 be⯑gan 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 pro⯑ſpect 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 [29] 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 par⯑ticularly 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 affec⯑tions 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. year 1491 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 negoti⯑ations; 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 re⯑proach himſelf with his own ſupine ſecurity, in neglecting the conſummation of his marriage, which was eaſily practicable for him, and which would have ren⯑dered [30] 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 miſcon⯑duct 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 ac⯑quired 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 re⯑venge; 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 provok⯑ing, that, tho' really raiſed by menaces and extortion, it was nevertheleſs pre⯑tended 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. Arch⯑biſhop Morton, the chancellor, inſtructed the commiſſioners to employ a dilemma, in which every one might be comprehended: If the perſons applied to lived frugal⯑ly, 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 Mor⯑ton's fork, and by others his crutch.

27th October. A Parliament. SO little apprehenſive was the King of a Parliament, on account of his levy⯑ing 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 con⯑ceived 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 [31] 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^*

year 1492 NOTWITHSTANDING theſe magnificent vaunts of the King, all men of pene⯑tration 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 cap⯑tains 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 nego⯑tiating for peace; and rather than expoſe himſelf to any hazard, would accept of very moderate conceſſions from France. Even England was not free from do⯑meſtic 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 [32] 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 hav⯑ing 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; eſpe⯑cially as he had Calais ready for winter quarters."’ As if he had ſeriouſly in⯑tended this enterprize, he inſtantly marched with his army into the enemy's coun⯑try, 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 Dor⯑ſet, 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 ſea⯑ſon 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.

[33] 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 No⯑vember. 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 atten⯑tion 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 pro⯑miſing 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 [34] 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 re⯑ceived by the people, ſhe had been looking out for ſome young man, proper to perſonate that unfortunate prince.

Perkin War⯑bec. 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, cor⯑rupted after the Flemiſh manner into Peter-kin, or Perkin. It was by ſome be⯑lieved, 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 Tour⯑nay; where Perkin his ſon remained not long, but by different accidents was car⯑ried 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 adven⯑tures 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 ad⯑dreſs, 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 Por⯑tugal, 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 im⯑mediately [35] aſſuming the name of Richard Plantagenet, drew to him partizans among that ignorant and credulous people. He wrote letters to the earls of Deſ⯑mond 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 ſollici⯑tations 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 prepoſ⯑ſeſſion, 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 Eng⯑land: 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 at⯑tending 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 dutch⯑eſs of B [...]r⯑gundy, 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 exa⯑mine 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 imme⯑diately [36] year 1493 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 contra⯑diction 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 preten⯑ſions. 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 in⯑clination 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 Eng⯑land, 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 per⯑ſon 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 indif⯑ferent. The whole nation were held in ſuſpenſe; a regular conſpiracy was formed againſt the King's authority; and a correſpondence ſettled between the malecon⯑tents in Flanders and thoſe in England.

THE King was well informed of all theſe particulars; but agreeable to his cha⯑racter, 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 em⯑ployed 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 [37] 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 in⯑ſinuate themſelves into the conſidence of his friends; in proportion as they con⯑veyed 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 im⯑mediately publiſhed for the ſatisfaction of the nation: The conſpirators he reſerved for a flower and more ſecure vengeance.

year 1494 MEANWHILE, he remonſtrated with the archduke Philip, on account of the countenance and protection, which was afforded in his dominions to ſo infamous an 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 Per⯑kin. [38] 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 par⯑doned, 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 domeſ⯑tic 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 ac⯑complices, 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 cham⯑berlain: 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 ex⯑ecution 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 [39] year 1495 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 Fe⯑bruary. 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 ra⯑pacious 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 [40] 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 per⯑vert 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. Hav⯑ing 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 mak⯑ing 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 ſe⯑verity. 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 regu⯑larity 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 Parlia⯑ment 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 Parlia⯑ment, be attainted for ſuch an inſtance of obedience. This ſtatute might be ex⯑poſed to ſome blame, as favourable to uſurpers; were there any preciſe rules, which always, even during the moſt factious times, could determine the true ſuc⯑ceſſor, 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 [41] topics in their own favour, it ſeems but equitable to ſecure thoſe who act in ſup⯑port 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 dif⯑ferent 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 par⯑liament 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 over⯑turned: And thro' the whole length of Italy, which the French penetrated with⯑out [42] 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 ex⯑pected 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 ex⯑pence 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.

AFTER Perkin was repulſed from the coaſt of Kent, he retired into Flan⯑ders; 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 him⯑ſelf 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.

[44] year 1496 THERE ſubſiſted at that time a great jealouſy between the courts of England and Scotland; and James was probably the more forward on that account to adopt any fiction, which, he thought, might reduce his enemy to diſtreſs or difficulty. He ſuddenly reſolved to make an inroad into England, attended 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 king⯑doms, 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 pre⯑pare 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 de⯑predations 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 per⯑ceive, 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.

[45] year 1497 THE vote of parliament for impoſing the tax was eaſily procured by the au⯑thority of Henry; but he found it not ſo eaſy to levy the money upon his ſub⯑jects. 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 ſub⯑ſidy 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 ora⯑cle 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 re⯑ceived by them as their leader. Proud of the countenance given them by ſo con⯑ſiderable 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 di⯑rections [46] 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, diſcou⯑raged 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 ſup⯑preſs 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 [47] and moſt conſiderable Henry put under the command of lord Daubeney, and or⯑dered 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. Dau⯑beney 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 une⯑qual 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 re⯑lieved 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. Whe⯑ther, 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 North⯑umberland; 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, not⯑withſtanding his ſuperior force, was no leſs deſirous than James of terminating the [48] 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 nego⯑tiating 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 accom⯑modation. 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 pre⯑tenſions, 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 bet⯑ter 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 inter⯑view 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 reſult⯑ing 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 com⯑merce 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 pub⯑licly received, as in proceſſion, with great joy and [...]eſtivity.

[49] PERKIN was a Fleming by deſcent, tho' born in England; and it might there⯑fore 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 affec⯑tions 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 thou⯑ſand 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. Meſ⯑ſengers 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 vex⯑ation and inquietude. All the courtiers, ſenſible that their activity on this occa⯑ſion 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 them⯑ſelves, 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 vo⯑luntiers, 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.

[50] 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 coun⯑ſelled 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 them⯑ſelves by their inſults for the ſhame which their former belief of his impoſtures had thrown upon them. year 1498 Tho' the eyes of the nation were generally opened with re⯑gard 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 re⯑gard to decency made him ſuppreſs entirely the ſhare which the dutcheſs of Bur⯑gundy 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.

year 1499 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 [51] of the prior of that monaſtery. The prior had obtained great credit by his cha⯑racter of ſanctity; and he prevailed with the King again to grant a pardon to Per⯑kin. 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 correſpon⯑dence with the earl of Warwic, who was confined to the ſame priſon. That un⯑fortunate prince, who had from his earlieſt infancy been ſhut up from the com⯑merce 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 be⯑lieved, 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 exe⯑cuted. 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^*. [52] It happened about that very time, that one Wilford, a cordwainer's ſon▪ encou⯑raged 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 exe⯑cuted. 21ſt of No⯑vember. 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 be⯑haviour expreſſed a ſtrong deſire of conciliating the friendſhip of England. The [53] 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 particu⯑lar plan however of alliance ſeems to have been concerted between theſe two prin⯑ces 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.

year 1500 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 gene⯑ral 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, how⯑ever, 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 pro⯑miſed 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 na⯑ture 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 Ferdi⯑nand, that no jealouſy ever on any occaſion aroſe between them. year 1501 Marriage of prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon. 12th of No⯑vember. 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 [54] year 1502 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 king⯑dom, 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."’ year 1503 11th of Fe⯑bruary. 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 [55] upon his defenceleſs people. Theſe Inſtruments of oppreſſion were both lawyers, the firſt of mean birth, of brutal manners, of an unrelenting temper; the ſe⯑cond better born, better educated, and better bred, but equally unjuſt, ſevere, and inflexible. By their knowledge in the law, theſe men were qualified to per⯑vert 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 ne⯑glected: 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 for⯑feiture 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^*.

[56] BY the prevalence of ſuch an arbitrary and iniquitous adminiſtration, the Eng⯑liſh, 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 diffi⯑dence thro' the nation. In vain did the people look for protection from the Parliament, which was pretty frequently ſummoned during this reign. year 1504 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. year 1505 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 accumu⯑lation, 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 in⯑credible 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 Ferdi⯑dand, 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 ſupe⯑riority of his wife's title; and he dreaded leſt the prince, who was daily advanc⯑ing towards manhood, might be tempted by ambi ion to lay immediate claim to [57] 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 go⯑verned 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 diſ⯑covered an evident reſolution of preferring the title of Philip and Joan. year 1506 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 Caſ⯑tile. 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 bro⯑ther 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 [58] 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 pre⯑vailed againſt his adminiſtration, neglected not this incident, which might be⯑come 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; Wil⯑liam 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 appre⯑hended; 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 ſatiſ⯑faction, 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, to⯑gether 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 [59] 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. year 1507 He landed in Spain, was joyfully received by the Caſti⯑lians, 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. year 1508 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 recon⯑cilement 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 coun⯑tenance 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 [60] year 1509 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 pre⯑judices of faction or the mean projects of avarice; not from the ſallies of paſ⯑ſion, 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 em⯑ployed 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 judi⯑cious 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, diſ⯑tinction 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 [61] 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 govern⯑ment 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 judge⯑ment 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 be⯑fore founded on common law and very ancient practice, was in ſome caſes con⯑firmed 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 juriſ⯑diction 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 car⯑ried on within a year and day^†. Formerly, it did not uſually commence till [62] 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 ap⯑pearance of equity, but which was afterwards found inconvenient. Actions po⯑pular 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 [63] 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 magnifi⯑cence. ‘"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 equi⯑page, houſes, and tables. The common people, no longer maintained in a vi⯑cious 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 de⯑pended on the great families; as much is the life of a modern nobleman more lau⯑dable 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 en⯑creaſed in England. It is probable, that Henry foreſaw and intended this conſe⯑quence; 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 in⯑tereſt for money, which was then denominated uſury^‡. Even the profits of ex⯑change 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 exe⯑cuted, and how hurtful to trade, if they could take place. We may obſerve, [64] however, to the praiſe of this King, that ſometimes, in order to promote com⯑merce, 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 im⯑ported commodities into the kingdom, were obliged to inveſt, in Engliſh com⯑modities, all the money acquired by their ſales, in order to prevent their convey⯑ing 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 com⯑merce. 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 ex⯑pected from the great encreaſe of gold and ſilver. And the additional art em⯑ployed 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 cuſtom⯑ers. 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^‖‖.

[65] 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 limita⯑tions 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 me⯑thods 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 Wor⯑ceſter had even impoſed tolls on the Severne, which were aboliſhed^††.

THERE is a law of this reign^‡‡, containing a preamble, from which it ap⯑pears, 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 [66] 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 naviga⯑tion 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 gene⯑ral 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 coun⯑tenance 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 Briſ⯑tol made a like attempt in 1502^*. The King expended fourteen thouſand pounds in building one ſhip called the Great Harry ^†. This was properly ſpeak⯑ing 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.

[67] 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 faſhion⯑able, 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 reli⯑gion, 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 com⯑mences 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 in⯑deed and commendable; not by any neceſſity for acquiring a knowledge of public affairs, or the arts of civil government.

CHAP. I.

THE death of Henry the ſeventh had been attended with as open and vi⯑ſible 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 [70] 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 counte⯑nance, with a lively air, with the appearance of ſpirit and activity in all his de⯑meanour^*. 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 conſta⯑ble 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 un⯑popular 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 ex⯑pence, 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 hu⯑mours of his new maſter; and no one was ſo forward in promoting that libera⯑lity, pleaſure, and magnificence, which began to prevail under the young mo⯑narch^§. By this policy he ingratiated himſelf with Henry; he made profit, as [71] well as the other courtiers, of the laviſh diſpoſition of his maſter; and he en⯑gaged him in ſuch a courſe of play and idleneſs as rendered him negligent of af⯑fairs, 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 gra⯑dually diſſipated in the giddy expences of Henry. One party of pleaſure ſuc⯑ceeded 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 pro⯑ficiency 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 inſtru⯑ments, whom that prince had employed in his extortions. A proclamation be⯑ing 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 ob⯑noxious. 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 in⯑ſtruments in the hands of the ſupreme power, to determine what laws were re⯑cent or obſolete, expedient or hurtful; ſince they were all alike valid, ſo long [72] 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 over⯑throw 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 ju⯑dicature; 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, there⯑fore, 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 con⯑firmed 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 mar⯑riage. 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 [73] 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.

year 1510 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 af⯑fairs. 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 pre⯑tenſion 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 con⯑tention 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; [74] and all Italy, during ſome time, was held in ſuſpence between theſe two power⯑ful 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 princi⯑pality, on which the ſafety of his kingdom ſo much depended. Maximilian, the emperor, beſides the hereditary dominions of the Auſtrian family, main⯑tained 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 de⯑fence. 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, except⯑ing 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 de⯑teſted 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, domi⯑neering; 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 perpe⯑tual agitation. [...] of Cambray. By his intrigues, a league had been formed at Cambray^*, be⯑tween himſelf, Maximilian the emperor, Lewis the twelfth of France, and Fer⯑dinand [75] 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 Bar⯑barians, 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 with⯑out 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 ano⯑ther 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 re⯑ſiſtance. 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 [76] 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 re⯑marking 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 ſub⯑miſſions^‖. 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 con⯑ſideration 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 [77] expelling all foreigners from Italy, or, to ſpeak in the ſtile affected by the Ita⯑lians 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 him⯑ſelf 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 blood⯑ſhed, 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^‡.

year 1511 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 [78] 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 un⯑willingly obeyed their King's orders in attending the council, all the other pre⯑lates 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 ſol⯑dier, 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 oppo⯑nents, 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 at⯑tended 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 do⯑minions to every one, who could take poſſeſſion of them.

year 1512 FERDINAND of Arragon, who had acquired the ſirname of the Catholic, re⯑garded 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 de⯑ſire 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, [79] 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 Febru⯑ary. 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 inconſide⯑rable 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 ſhame⯑ful 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 ena⯑bled him the better to take advantage of his want of experience. He ad⯑viſed 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 Fon⯑tarabia, 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 Fer⯑rars, 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 Ferdi⯑nand in this unexampled generoſity was ſuſpected by no body.

[80] 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 enter⯑prize .Deceit of Fer⯑dinand. 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 ſitu⯑ation, it was almoſt equally ſerviceable to his purpoſes, as if it had acted in con⯑junction 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 pro⯑poſed 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 [81] 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 pro⯑cure ſuch orders, Ferdinand diſpatched Martin de Ampios, as his envoy, to Lon⯑don; 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 im⯑portunity; 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 en⯑terprize; 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 ſuſ⯑pence, 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.

[82] 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 at⯑tained 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. year 1513 Genoa followed the example of that dutchy; and thus Lewis, in a few weeks, entirely loſt his Italian conqueſts, ex⯑cept ſome garriſons; and Maximilian Sforza, the ſon of Ludovic, was again re-inſtated in poſſeſſion of Milan.

21ſt of Fe⯑bruary. 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 capa⯑ble of forming great deſigns than his predeceſſor, but was more gentle, pliant, and artful in employing means for the execution of them. By his in⯑trigues, 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 [83] 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 devo⯑tion 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 de⯑predations upon the Engliſh, and much infeſted the narrow ſeas^†. Lord How⯑ard 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. Not⯑withſtanding 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 coun⯑tenance 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 him⯑ſelf, and who ſummoned him, according to the ideas of romantic gallantry, pre⯑valent 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 [84] 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 inva⯑ſion: And though Ferdinand diſavowed his ambaſſador, and even ſigned a truce for a twelvemonth with the common enemy; Henry was not yet fully con⯑vinced 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 mi⯑niſter. THOMAS WOLSEY, dean of Lincoln, and almoner to the King, ſurpaſſed in favour all his miniſters and courtiers, and was faſt advancing towards that un⯑rivalled 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 ſucceſſ⯑fully 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 ven⯑tured [85] 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 total⯑ly 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. Nei⯑ther 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 fa⯑vour, and who ſcarce thought themſelves accountable to him for the exerciſe of their authority: That by the factions, and cabals, and jealouſies, which pre⯑vailed 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 govern⯑ment 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 him⯑ſelf, 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 pub⯑lic buſinēſs, and thus, without tedious conſtraint or application, initiate him in the ſcience of government^†.

[86] 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 autho⯑rity, the character and genius of Wolſey had full opportunity to diſplay itſelf. Inſatiable in his acquiſitions, but ſtill more magnificent in his expence: Of ex⯑tenſive 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 depen⯑dants; 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 ex⯑pected from the Mediterranean a reinforcement of ſome Gallies under the com⯑mand 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 Spa⯑niſh 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 [87] 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 expe⯑dition 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 com⯑mand of the earl of Shrewſbury, ſailed over to Calais. Shrewſbury was accom⯑panied [88] 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 com⯑mit 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 tur⯑bulent 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 prepar⯑ing 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 atone⯑ment 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 ex⯑traordinary ſpectacle, of an emperor of Germany ſerving under a King of Eng⯑land, 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 Shrewſ⯑bury and lord Herbert had formed the ſiege of Teroüane, a town ſituate on [89] 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 pro⯑viſions and ammunition than from the aſſaults of the beſiegers. Having con⯑veyed 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 gun⯑powder 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 dan⯑gerous attempt^*.

Battle of Gui⯑negate. BUT the Engliſh had, ſoon after, full revenge for that inſult. Henry had re⯑ceived 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, Im⯑bercourt, 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 at⯑tacking 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 fortifi⯑cations. [90] 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 for⯑midable 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. Maximi⯑lian, 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 con⯑ſidering 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 an⯑tient charters, being exempted from the burthen of a garriſon, the burghers, even againſt the remonſtrance of their ſovereign, ſtrenuouſly inſiſted on maintain⯑ing this dangerous privilege; and they engaged, by themſelves, to make a vigo⯑rous defence againſt the enemy^*. Their courage failed them when matters came to extremity; 24th Septem⯑ber. and after a few days ſiege, the place was ſurrendered to the Eng⯑liſh. 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 [91] 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 Eng⯑land; and he carried the greateſt part of his army with him. Succeſs had at⯑tended 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 in⯑glorious^‡.

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 Northum⯑berland 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 mili⯑tary 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 an⯑ſwer, 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.

[92] AN engagement was now become inevitable between the [...], a [...] both ſides prepared for it with great tranquility and order^*. 9th Septem⯑ber. Battle of Flou⯑den. 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 re⯑ſerve. 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 evi⯑dently 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. Dur⯑ing ſome time it was kept unburied; becauſe James died under ſentence of ex⯑communication, 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 or⯑der to divide the attention of the Engliſh, and ſhare the danger with his maſter. [93] 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 noble⯑man had inſtigated to commit ſo enormous a crime. But the populace enter⯑tained 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. year 1514 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 ob⯑tained the title of earl of Worceſter. Sir Edward Stanley, that of lord Mont⯑eagle.

THO' peace with Scotland gave Henry ſecurity towards the north, and enabled him to proſecute in tranquility his enterprize againſt France, ſome other inci⯑dents 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 pre⯑ſerve the ballance among the contending parties. He accepted therefore of Lewis's offer to renounce the council of Lyons; and he took off the excommu⯑nication 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 [94] 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 aggran⯑dizing 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 ex⯑claimed 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, there⯑fore, 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 Guine⯑gate, 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 [95] 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, Longue⯑ville 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 Octo⯑ber. 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 plea⯑ſure, as proved very unſuitable to his declining ſtate of health^†. year 1515 1ſt of Janu⯑ary. 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 ho⯑nourable 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 [96] 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 indul⯑gence 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 ad⯑miniſtration. 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 [97] 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 acquiſi⯑tions, 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 en⯑joying 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 in⯑dulgence, by parting with a conſiderable ſhare of their profits. He held in com⯑mendam 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 advance⯑ment 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 church⯑man, 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 hun⯑dred 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 cler⯑gyman 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 [98] 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 ſen⯑ſible, 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 mode⯑rate 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 per⯑ſonal 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 judg⯑ment, 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 infir⯑mities, 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 defe⯑rence 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 [96] 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 deſti⯑nation, had expreſsly limited her authority to the condition of her remaining un⯑married^*: 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 re⯑calling 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, unprac⯑ticed 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 im⯑portant 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 [100] 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 puniſh⯑ment, 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 bro⯑ther; 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 [101] 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 com⯑monly 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 pre⯑vailed 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 con⯑nexion 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 prede⯑ceſſor, 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; [102] 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 de⯑termined, from views both of honour and intereſt, to defend him againſt his in⯑vader^‡. 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 Sep⯑tember. 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 poſ⯑ſible 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 do⯑minions 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 be⯑tween the parties; and Francis's victory at Marignan determined him abſolutely to embrace the friendſhip of that monarch^†. But what both facilitated moſt, [103] 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 impor⯑tant than its weight in the ballance of power ſhould, ſtrictly ſpeaking, have de⯑manded. 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 Te⯑roüenne 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 de⯑clined 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 com⯑plied 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 en⯑terprize, eſpecially if attended with an offer of money, of which he was ex⯑tremely greedy, extremely prodigal, and extremely neceſſitous. Richard Pace, formerly ſecretary to cardinal Bambrige, now ſecretary of ſtate, was diſpatched [104] year 1516 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 mo⯑narchy^‡. 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 cha⯑racter, 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 grand⯑ſon, Charles, to his extenſive dominions. No commotion, however, or alte⯑ration 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 im⯑portant it was to preſerve peace with foreigners, till he ſhould have eſtabliſhed [105] his authority in his new dominions; and finding Francis deſirous to take ad⯑vantage 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^*. year 1517 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 diſ⯑ordered 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.

year 1518 BONNIVET, admiral of France, was diſpatched to London, and he was di⯑rected to employ all his inſinuation and addreſs, qualities for which he was re⯑markable, to procure himſelf a place in Wolſey's good graces. After the am⯑baſſador had ſucceeded in his purpoſe, he took an opportunity of expreſſing his maſter's regret, that, by miſtakes and miſapprehenſions, he had been ſo un⯑fortunate 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 re⯑preſenting [106] 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 de⯑livered to France. A treaty there⯑fore 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 pay⯑ments, 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 thou⯑ſand 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 ac⯑count 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: [107] 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 ap⯑pointed le⯑gate. 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 viſit⯑ing all the clergy and monaſteries, and even with ſuſpending the whole laws of the church during a twelve month. Wolſey, having obtained this new dig⯑nity, 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 ſub⯑ſcribed 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 [...] 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 [108] 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 immo⯑rality 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 pro⯑ſecutions, 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 pro⯑ſecuted Allen, the legate's judge, in a court of law, and convicted him of mal⯑verſation and iniquity, the clamour at laſt reached the King's ears, and he ex⯑preſſed ſuch diſpleaſure to the cardinal as made him ever after more cautious in exerting his authority^‡.

[109] year 1519 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 Janu⯑ary. Death of the emperor Max⯑imilian. 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 preten⯑ſions; 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 de⯑clared, 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 empe⯑ror. 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 pre⯑tenſion. 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, car⯑rying theſe virtues to an exceſs which prejudiced his affairs: Charles, political, cloſe, artificial, frugal; better calculated to obtain ſucceſs in wa [...]s and in nego⯑tiations, 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 extri⯑cate himſelf from them with honour: The emperor, by his deſigning, intereſted [110] 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 concur⯑rence 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 in⯑tereſt. 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.

year 1520 Interview be⯑tween Henry and Francis at Calais. FRANCIS was well acquainted with Henry's character, and endeavoured to ac⯑commodate his conduct to it. He ſollicited an interview near Calais; in expec⯑tation 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 [111] 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 Bucking⯑ham, who, tho' immenſely rich, was ſomewhat addicted to frugality, finding the preparations for this feſtival amount to immenſe ſums, threw out ſome ex⯑preſſions 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 ar⯑rives in Eng⯑land. 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 in⯑ſtilled 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 Wol⯑ſey'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.

[112] 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 con⯑ference together. Henry here propoſed to make ſome amendments on the arti⯑cles 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 mo⯑narchs^*. Francis remarked this delicacy, and expreſſed by a ſmile his approba⯑tion 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 inca⯑pable of diſtruſting others, was ſhocked at all the precautions which were ob⯑ſerved, 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 mid⯑dle 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 ſur⯑render 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, with⯑out 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 [113] 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 over⯑thrown 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 acqui⯑ſitions 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 [114] 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^*.

year 1521 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 en⯑terprize 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 Na⯑varre, finding Spain in great diſorder from the inſurrections of the people, he thought the opportunity favourable, and he ventured, with Francis's approba⯑tion, 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 Spa⯑niſh 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 Ro⯑bert, had levied a powerful army, and advanced to the frontiers of France, which he threatened with an invaſion. Hoſtilities were ſoon carried farther; his gene⯑rals 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 im⯑perialiſts 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 par⯑tiality of theſe mediators; and his demands in the conference were ſo unreaſonable, as plainly proved him conſcious of this advantage. He required the reſtitution [115] 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 de⯑manded 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, pro⯑miſed 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 No⯑vember. 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 thou⯑ſand 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 con⯑demnation 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 Hop⯑kins, 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 [116] King's own jealouſy, however, againſt all pretenders to the crown, was, not⯑withſtanding 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.

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 pub⯑lickly 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 ge⯑nerally 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 im⯑portance of the preſent occaſion will, I hope, excuſe this ſhort digreſſion.

Digreſſion concerning the eccleſiaſti⯑cal 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, per⯑haps, 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 arti⯑zans, finding their profits to riſe by the favour of their cuſtomers, encreaſe, as [117] 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 ex⯑actly 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 in⯑ſtances 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 phyſi⯑cians, 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 in⯑dolence, by affixing ſtated ſallaries to their profeſſion, and rendering it ſuper⯑fluous for them to be farther active, than merely to preſerve their flock from ſtraying in queſt of new paſtures. And in this manner eccleſiaſtical eſtabliſh⯑ments, [118] 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 at⯑tended with circumſtances more hurtful to the peace and happineſs of mankind.

THE large revenues, privileges, immunities, and powers of the clergy ren⯑dered 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 compen⯑ſation 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, contri⯑buted, 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.

[119] Origin of the reformation. POPE Leo the tenth, by his generous and enterprizing temper, had very much ex⯑hauſted 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 per⯑ſons, who were entitled to levy the impoſition. The produce particularly of Saxony and the countries bordering on the Baltic was aſſigned to his ſiſter, Mag⯑dalene, 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 conſi⯑deration: 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, exag⯑gerated the benefit of indulgences by the moſt unbounded panegyrics; and ad⯑vanced doctrines on that head, which, tho' not more ridiculous than thoſe al⯑ready received, were ſuch as the ears of the people were not yet fully accuſtomed [120] 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 at⯑tended with no event of any importance, had there not ariſen a man, qualified to take advantage of the incident. Martin Lu⯑ther. 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 re⯑ceived opinions. The elector of Saxony, favourable to Luther's doctrine, pro⯑tected 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 be⯑come 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 prin⯑ciples 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 at⯑tachment 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 au⯑thority [121] 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 re⯑ceived ſo magnificent a preſent with great teſtimony of regard; Henry re⯑ceives 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 preju⯑diced 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 im⯑poſtures 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 over⯑whelmed them: Not to mention, that the rapid advance of the Lutheran doc⯑trine, 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 monu⯑ments of the chriſtian faith became more common, men perceived the innova⯑tions, 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 [122] political government eſtabliſhed in Europe: But as the eccleſiaſtics would not ſubmit to poſſeſs their privileges as matters of civil right, which time could ren⯑der 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, deteſt⯑able, 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 devo⯑tion, 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 diſ⯑contented; 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 libertin⯑iſm 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 [123] altercation or debate. Such were the advantages, with which the reformers be⯑gan 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, modera⯑tion 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, can⯑dour, and ſimplicity of manners, by which he was diſtinguiſhed; but, ſo vio⯑lent were their prejudices againſt the church, he rather hurt the cauſe by his impru⯑dent 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.

year 1522 THE emperor, Charles, who knew, that Wolſey had received a diſappoint⯑ment in his ambitious hopes by the election of Adrian, and who dreaded the re⯑ſentment 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 do⯑minions; 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^†.

[124] 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-admi⯑ral; 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 in⯑fantry, 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 oc⯑caſion; 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 gene⯑rals, 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 [125] 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 in⯑tereſts, 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.

year 1523 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 Eng⯑liſh 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 [126] 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 king⯑doms, 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 govern⯑ment; 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 neigh⯑bourhood 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 ſub⯑jection: 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 [127] 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 ap⯑proach 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 pre⯑tended 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 [128] 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 demand⯑ed a grant of 800,000 pounds, divided into four yearly payments; a ſum, com⯑puted 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 [129] houſe of commons diſcover evidently the humour of the times: They were ex⯑tremely 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 com⯑mons, that, as he had not called a Parliament during ſeven years before, he al⯑lowed 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 coun⯑ſels, 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 him⯑ſelf from the imperial court, and to pave the way for an union between his maſ⯑ter 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 con⯑vents. 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 open⯑ing this campaign^*. Adrian, before his death, had renewed the league with Charles and Henry. The Venetians had been induced to deſert the French alli⯑ance, and to form engagements for the ſecuring Sforza in poſſeſſion of the Mila⯑neſe. [130] 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 Ger⯑mans were preparing to ravage Burgundy: But all theſe perils from foreign ene⯑mies 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 im⯑preſſion on Louiſe of Savoy, Francis's mother, that, without regard to the in⯑equality 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 in⯑juries 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 nu⯑merous 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 [131] deſire him, while Bourbon reſided in that city, to allow him to take up his re⯑ſidence 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 ex⯑pedition, 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 pro⯑vince 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 [132] 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 Fon⯑tarabia, 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, notwith⯑ſtanding 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 for⯑ward 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 al⯑luring 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 [133] year 1524 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 Bon⯑nivet, 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 pri⯑vate 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 denomi⯑nated the knight without fear and without reproach. When this gallant gentleman felt his wounds to be mortal, and could no longer ſupport himſelf on horſe⯑back, he ordered his attendants to ſet him under a tree, and turn his face to⯑wards the enemy, that he might die in that poſture. The generals of the al⯑lies, 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 Flo⯑rentines were ſatisfied with the advantage obtained over them, and were re⯑ſolved to proſecute their victory no farther. All theſe powers, eſpecially Clement, had entertained a violent jealouſy of the emperor's ambition; and [134] their jealouſy was extremely augmented, when they ſaw him refuſe the in⯑veſtiture 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 re⯑duce Italy to ſubjection: Clement in particular, actuated by this jealouſy, pro⯑ceeded 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 pay⯑ments, 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 nu⯑merous 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 ene⯑mies, in every attempt which they had hitherto made of breaking into his king⯑dom: But as he received intelligence, that the King of England, diſcouraged with his former fruitleſs enterprizes, and diſguſted with the emperor, was mak⯑ing 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.

[135] The King of France n⯑vades 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 de⯑fended by Leyva, one of the braveſt officers in the Spaniſh ſervice. Every at⯑tempt, 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. Fa⯑tigue and the bad ſeaſon (for it was now the depth of winter) had waſted the French army. year 1525 And the more to diminiſh its force, Francis, at the pope's ſolli⯑citation, who now declared, almoſt openly, for him, had detached a conſiderable body, under the duke of Albany, to invade the kingdom of Naples. The im⯑perial generals mean while were not idle. Peſcara and Lannoy, viceroy of Na⯑ples, 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 [136] 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 Pa⯑via, and cap⯑tivity 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 de⯑ſerted their poſt. Francis's whole army was put to rout, and he himſelf, ſur⯑rounded 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, im⯑mediately 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 ene⯑mies, 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 ex⯑preſſions 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 [137] 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 Fran⯑cis 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; ſur⯑rounded on every hand by implacable and victorious enemies: And her ſole re⯑ſource, 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 territo⯑ry, 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 em⯑braces the al⯑liance 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 fa⯑vourable 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 [138] 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 appear⯑ances 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 re⯑ſide at London^‡: But upon the regent's ſubmiſſive applications to him, he again opened a correſpondence with her; and beſides aſſuring her of his friend⯑ſhip 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 exe⯑cuting 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 com⯑plaints 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 condi⯑tions^*: 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 re⯑ceive [139] during his own life, a yearly penſion of a hundred thouſand crowns▪ Not⯑withſtanding his generoſity, he could not for bear taking advantage of the cala⯑mitous 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 grant⯑ed 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 im⯑poſitions upon his own ſubjects; and as the parliament had diſcovered ſome re⯑luctance 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 un⯑controulable did he deem his authority, that he took no care to cover, as former⯑ly, 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 diſ⯑poſition 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 flatter⯑ed himſelf, that his condeſcenſion in employing that diſguiſe would ſatisfy the people, and that no one would dare to render himſelf obnoxious to royal autho⯑rity, 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 benevo⯑lences 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 law⯑ful 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 anni⯑hilated the moſt valuable privilege of the people, and rendered all their other privileges precarious. Armed with ſuch formidable authority, of royal preroga⯑tive and a pretext of law, Wolſey ſent for the mayor of London, and deſired to [140] 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 ſmooth⯑ly 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 au⯑thority, to induce the ringleaders to lay down their arms, and ſurrender them⯑ſelves 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 offen⯑ders 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 coun⯑ſels, 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 pre⯑vailed 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 commiſ⯑ſion 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 cauti⯑ous for the future. That haughty miniſter had built a ſplendid palace at Hamp⯑ton court, which he probably intended, as well as that of York place in Weſt⯑minſter, [141] 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 go⯑vernment, 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 gra⯑tifying 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 re⯑nounce 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 re⯑moved 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, [142] might be found poſſeſſed of the ſame frankneſs of diſpoſition; by which he him⯑ſelf 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 concert⯑ing 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 in⯑creaſed, 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 ad⯑vantage [143] ſhould be taken of his ſimplicity, ſhould he firſt execute his part of the treaty.

year 1526 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 fi⯑nally put to the differences between theſe two great monarchs. The principal con⯑dition 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 pro⯑vince, 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 de⯑gree 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 poſte⯑rity, 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 dur⯑ing his captivity, and the cruel terms which had been exacted of him for the re⯑covery 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 pre⯑ſervation 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 flat⯑tered [144] all the paſſions, by which, both as a prince and a man, he was ſtrongly ac⯑tuated.

SUCH was the reaſoning of ſeveral of Charles's miniſters, particularly of Gat⯑tinara, his chancellor^*, who counſelled him to treat Francis with more gene⯑roſity, 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 oc⯑caſion 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; proteſt⯑ing, 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 fide⯑lity, 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 engage⯑ments, 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 re⯑covers 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 imme⯑diately 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, [145] ſhould now return to his priſon; 22d May. but the French monarch, inſtead of com⯑pliance, made public the treaty, which, a little before, he had ſecretly con⯑cluded at Cognac, againſt the ambitious ſchemes and uſurpations of the em⯑peror^*.

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 of⯑fered 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 con⯑ditions 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. year 1527 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 pre⯑vent 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, [146] 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 ex⯑poſed^*. 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 ſuc⯑ceſs 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 in⯑fantry 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 [147] 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 Bou⯑logne: 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 acknow⯑ledge 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 find⯑ing his efforts fruitleſs, he was obliged, tho' with great reluctance, to deſiſt from theſe ambitious enterprizes^‡.

18th Septem⯑ber. 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 un⯑wary 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 equi⯑page, 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 [148] 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 he⯑ralds, 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 ſe⯑paration, 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 la⯑mented 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 imme⯑diate conſequences with regard to theſe monarchs themſelves, it produced a con⯑ſiderable 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 en⯑tirely exploded.

CHAP. IV.

Scruples con⯑cerning the King's mar⯑riage. NOtwithſtanding the ſubmiſſive deference, paid to the papal authority be⯑fore 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 injunc⯑tion, not to finiſh an alliance, ſo unuſual and expoſed to ſuch inſuperable ob⯑jections. After the King's acceſſion, ſome members of the Privy Council, par⯑ticularly 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 at⯑tention, and to inform him of the ſentiments, generally entertained on that ſub⯑ject. 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, [150] 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 en⯑ters 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 miſ⯑fortune, 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 ſuc⯑ceſſion of the crown too was a conſideration, that occurred to every one, when⯑ever 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 obvi⯑ate 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 pro⯑hibitions, 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 [151] 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' per⯑haps 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 mar⯑riage with Catherine; if the account is to be credited, which he himſelf after⯑wards 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. Find⯑ing the accompliſhments of her mind no way inferior to her exterior graces, he [152] even entertained the deſign of raiſing her to the throne; and was the more con⯑firmed 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 per⯑mit marriage in the nearer degrees of conſanguinity; but only to inſiſt on parti⯑cular grounds of invalidity in the bull, which Julius had granted for the mar⯑riage 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 oppor⯑tunity 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 Fran⯑cis 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 Ita⯑ly, under the command of Lautrec, obliged the imperialiſts to give Clement his liberty; and he retired to Orvietto, where the Secretary, with Sir Gregory Cuſ⯑ſali, the King's reſident at Rome, renewed their applications to him. They [153] 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 com⯑municated them to the imperial miniſters; and Clement, confined by this pro⯑miſe, 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 Eng⯑liſh prelate, to examine the validity of the King's marriage, and of Julius's diſ⯑penſation^†: He alſo granted them a proviſional diſpenſation for the King's mar⯑riage with any other perſon; and promiſed ſoon to expede a decretal bull, an⯑nulling 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 oppoſi⯑tion, 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 au⯑thority^‡.

year 1528 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 mi⯑niſters, and aſked their opinion in ſo delicate a ſituation. The Engliſh counſel⯑lors 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 chil⯑dren, which it might bring him, declared illegitimate; and his marriage with Catherine more firmly rivetted than ever^*. And Henry's apprehenſions of the poſ⯑ſibility, 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 timi⯑dity, to which he was extremely ſubject, allowed him to make full uſe of thoſe [154] 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 de⯑fenceleſs, and expoſed to the ſame calamities with which it had already been over⯑whelmed. 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 repreſent⯑ed, 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 amend⯑ment; 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 Me⯑dici, 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 be⯑tween 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 elec⯑tion 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 de⯑pendance 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 em⯑peror's forces ſacked Rome, and reduced Clement to captivity, the Florentines, paſſionate for their ancient liberty, had taken advantage of his diſtreſſes, and re⯑volting [155] againſt the family of Medici, had entirely aboliſhed their authority in Florence, and re-eſtabliſhed the former democracy. The better to protect them⯑ſelves 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 fa⯑mily; the event, which, of all others, he moſt paſſionately deſired. The empe⯑ror alone, he knew, was able to effectuate this purpoſe; and therefore, what⯑ever 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 conſe⯑quence, 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 pre⯑viouſly 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 con⯑ceſſions 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 or⯑dered 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 conceſ⯑ſion, 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 ſa⯑crificing 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, there⯑fore, 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^†.

[156] [...] 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 de⯑parture 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 bi⯑ſhops ſees, had obtained the conſent of his holineſs^*.

year 1529 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 pa⯑tience 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 in⯑trigues for electing his ſucceſſor, began already to take place among the cardinals. Wolſey, in particular, ſupported by the intereſts of England and France, enter⯑tained 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 hi⯑therto 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 de⯑lays; and gave Clement full leiſure to adjuſt all the terms of his treaty with the emperor.

[157] 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 ap⯑plication 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 Cathe⯑rine, 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 na⯑turally of a firm and reſolute temper; and was engaged by every motive to per⯑ſevere 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 conſidera⯑tions, 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 re⯑call of the commiſſion, which Campeggio and Wolſey exerciſed in England, a fundamental article^‡.

31 May. Trial of the King's mar⯑riage. 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 pathe⯑tic 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 fa⯑mily, 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, whe⯑ther 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 un⯑ſtained, 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 [158] of their time, and had undoubtedly acted by the beſt council, when they form⯑ed the agreement for that marriage, which was now repreſented as ſo criminal and unnatural: And that ſhe acquieſced in their judgment, and would not ſub⯑mit 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 im⯑partial 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 mar⯑riage; 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 ſen⯑tence 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 fif⯑teenth 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 [159] 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, per⯑mitted 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 pre⯑ſided 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 ſur⯑prize, 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 ſuc⯑ceſs, 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 forti⯑fying 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, de⯑livered 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 earneſt⯑neſs 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 tem⯑per, who could bear no contradiction, and who was wont, without examination [160] 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 re⯑turned to court, whence ſhe had been removed, from a regard to decency, during the trial before the legates, ſhe had naturally acquired an additional in⯑fluence 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 ma⯑lignity 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 ſurren⯑dered, and was delivered by the King to Sir Thomas More, a man, who, be⯑ſides the ornaments of an elegant literature, poſſeſſed the higheſt virtue, inte⯑grity 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 pro⯑portion; and his opulence was probably no ſmall inducement to this violent perſecution againſt him.

[161] 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 over⯑whelmed 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, accompa⯑nied with a ring, as a teſtimony of his affection. Wolſey, who was on horſe⯑back 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^*. [162] 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 ex⯑traordinary 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 legan⯑tine power, which he had exerciſed with very extenſive authority. He con⯑feſſed 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 pro⯑tection; his lands and goods forfeited, and that his perſon might be commit⯑ted 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 of⯑fences; reſtored him part of his plate and furniture; and ſtill continued, from time to time, to drop expreſſions of favour and compaſſion towards him.

[163] Commence⯑ment 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 Lu⯑theran 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 igno⯑rance 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 [164] 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 Ne⯑therlands 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 ſum⯑mer 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 ac⯑quital 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. Flo⯑rence, after a brave reſiſtance, was ſubdued by the imperial arms, and finally deli⯑vered over to the dominion of the family of Medici. The Venetians were better [165] 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 mode⯑rate 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 be⯑cauſe they proteſted againſt the votes of the imperial diet, they thenceforth re⯑ceived 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 Cle⯑ment, had ſerved much to open his eyes in that particular. He found his royal [166] 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 un⯑worthy 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 in⯑ducements, 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 Luthe⯑rans, 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 univerſi⯑ties conſulted about the King's mar⯑riage. 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 com⯑pany 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 con⯑ſent, would be to conſult all the univerſities of Europe with regard to this con⯑troverted point: If they agreed to approve the King's marriage with Cathe⯑rine, 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 di⯑vine: 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.

[167] 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 prohi⯑bited 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 in⯑troduce an univerſal diſſoluteneſs and corruption. But as the cuſtoms of coun⯑tries 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 incon⯑venience, 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 be⯑tween the ſexes. Reaſoning from this principle, it would appear, that the ordi⯑nary 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 ſove⯑reign 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^*.

[168] 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 al⯑moſt 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 diſ⯑penſe with more eſſential precepts of morality, and even permitted marriages within other prohibited degrees, ſuch as thoſe of uncle and niece, the imagina⯑tions of men were not as yet reconciled to this particular exerciſe of his authority. year 1530 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, Ve⯑nice, Ferrara, Padua; even Bologna itſelf, tho' under the immediate juriſdiction of Clement. Oxford alone^‡and Cambridge^‖made ſome difficulty; be⯑cauſe 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, pro⯑nounced 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 ap⯑pear, 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 Bo⯑leyn, created earl of Wiltſhire, carried to the pope the King's reaſons for not [169] appearing by proxy; and as the firſt inſtance of diſreſpect from England, re⯑fuſed 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 Rich⯑mond, 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 car⯑dinal knew it was vain to reſiſt: He took up his reſidence at Cawood in York⯑ſhire, where he rendered himſelf extremely popular to the neighbourhood, by his affability and hoſpitality^†: but he was not allowed to remain long un⯑moleſted 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 ne⯑ver roſe more. 28 Novemb. A little before he expired, he addreſſed himſelf in the follow⯑ing words to Sir William Kingſton, conſtable of the Tower, who had him in cuſtody.

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 ſubſe⯑quent 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 par⯑tiality thoſe hiſtorians, who have endeavoured to load his memory with ſuch vio⯑lent 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 in⯑fluenced. 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.

year 1531 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 accord⯑ingly 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.

[171] THE commons, finding that a pardon was granted the clergy, began to be ap⯑prehenſive for themſelves, leſt either they ſhould afterwards be brought into trouble, on account of their ſubmiſſion to the legantine court, or a ſupply be ex⯑torted 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^‡.

year 1532 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 connec⯑tions 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 reforma⯑tion. 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 be⯑come 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 de⯑prived of his primier ſeiſin, and the profits of the livery, which were no in⯑conſiderable branches of the revenue. Henry made a bill be drawn to mode⯑rate, not remedy altogether, this abuſe: He was contented, that every man [172] 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 law⯑yers, 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 ſuſ⯑pected between them, while the prelates ſeemed to ſwear allegiance to two ſo⯑vereigns^†, 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 ſenti⯑ments 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 en⯑croached 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 [173] 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 miſ⯑fortunes. The King, who had entertained a high opinion of his virtue, admit⯑ted 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 Eng⯑land; 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 im⯑perial 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 de⯑manded 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 con⯑ſiſtories were held, to examine the validity of their marriage. Henry was de⯑termined 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 au⯑thority. The prerogative of his crown, he ſaid, muſt be ſacrificed, if he allow⯑ed 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 con⯑certed all meaſures for their mutual defence. He even employed arguments, by which, he believed, he had perſuaded Francis to imitate his example in withdraw⯑ing his obedience from the biſhop of Rome, and adminiſtering eccleſiaſtical af⯑fairs 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 cele⯑brated his marriage with Anne Boleyn, whom he had created marchioneſs of Pembroke. Rouland Lee, ſoon after raiſed to the biſhopric of Coventry, offi⯑ciated [174] at the marriage. The duke of Norfolk, uncle to the new Queen, her fa⯑ther, mother, and brother, together with Dr. Cranmer, were preſent at the ceremo⯑ny^*. 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.

year 1533 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 eccleſia⯑ſtical 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 in⯑validity of his former marriage with Catherine: A ſentence which ought natu⯑rally 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 en⯑deavoured, by every ſoft and perſuaſive art, to engage her to depart from her ap⯑peal to Rome, and her oppoſition to his divorce. Finding her obſtinate in main⯑taining 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 arch⯑biſhop of Canterbury, on the death of Warham^‖, was appointed to open his [175] 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 opi⯑nions 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 ſucceſ⯑ſion. 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 mount⯑ed 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 ap⯑proach her with the accuſtomed ceremonial. Henry, forgetting his wonted ge⯑neroſity towards her, employed menaces againſt ſuch of her ſervants as com⯑plied [176] 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 pro⯑ceeded 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 con⯑dition, 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 Reg⯑gio and Modena^*; and having ſubmitted his pretenſions to the arbitration of the emperor, he was ſurprized to find a ſentence pronounced againſt him. En⯑raged 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 em⯑braced 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 [177] 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 fore⯑ſeen, 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 inno⯑vations. 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 imme⯑diately 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. year 1534 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 re⯑garded 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 im⯑petuous [178] 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 ſome⯑thing 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 be⯑yond 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 prero⯑gative. 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, diſpenſa⯑tions, were aboliſhed: Monaſteries were ſubjected to the viſitation and govern⯑ment 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 pro⯑viſions: 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 Par⯑liament^†. 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 [179] 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 ra⯑tified: 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; con⯑trary to his firſt intention, when he began the ſuit of divorce, and of diſpenſa⯑tion for a ſecond marriage.

THE King found his eccleſiaſtical ſubjects as compliant as the laity. The con⯑vocation 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 king⯑dom. Fiſher, biſhop of Rocheſter, and Sir Thomas More, were the only per⯑ſons 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 be⯑lieved, [180] 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 Par⯑liament 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 pre⯑ſcribed 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 Novem⯑ber. 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 poſ⯑ſible 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 [181] the government, by uniting the ſpiritual with the civil power, and preventing diſ⯑putes about limits, which never could be exactly determined between the con⯑tending parties. A way was alſo prepared for checking the exorbitancy of ſu⯑perſtition, 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, ex⯑cept 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 Eng⯑land, 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 em⯑peror, 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 hav⯑ing 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 [182] another man of quality of the name of Stuart; and ſhe joined all the diſcon⯑tented 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 renew⯑ing 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 pro⯑poſals, 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 diſ⯑poſe 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 con⯑cert 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 per⯑ſonal 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. 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 under⯑ſtanding; 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 in⯑tereſted ſpirit of the ſovereign pontiff had introduced into religion. But when the reformers proceeded thence to diſpute concerning the nature of the ſacra⯑ments, 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, ſup⯑ported 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 [184] 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 judg⯑ment; 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 ſhak⯑ing ſuch an ancient and deep founded eſtabliſhment as that of the Roman hierar⯑chy might, it was apprehended, prepare the way for new innovations. The re⯑publican 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 re⯑formation. 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 pri⯑vate 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 [185] eccleſiaſtical powers^†; and there was ſmall likelihood, that any doctrine, which lay under the imputation of encouraging ſedition, could ever pretend to his fa⯑vour 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 appear⯑ed 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 mini⯑ſters. 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 tyran⯑ny, could eaſily permit. On the other hand, the duke of Norfolk adhered to [186] 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 ren⯑dered 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 unli⯑mited 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, ſerv⯑ed 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 Ant⯑werp^‡; where the great privileges poſſeſſed by the Low Country provinces, ſerved, during ſome time, to give them protection. Farther pro⯑greſs of the reformation. Theſe men employed them⯑ſelves in writing books, in Engliſh, againſt the corruptions of the church of Rome; againſt images, relicts, pilgrimages; and they excited the curioſity of [187] 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, main⯑tained the efficacy of good works; but tho' they did not exclude from this appel⯑lation the ſocial virtues, it was ſtill the ſuperſtitions, gainful to the church, which they chiefly extolled and recommended. The books, compoſed by theſe fugi⯑tives, 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 ac⯑curacy, 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 op⯑portunity of correcting his errors, of which he had been made ſenſible. Ton⯑ſtal, then biſhop of London, ſoon after of Durham, a man of great modera⯑tion, 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 Tin⯑dal 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 eccleſi⯑aſtical 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 offend⯑ers. Sir Thomas More. Sir Thomas More, who ſucceeded Wolſey as chancellor, is at once an ob⯑ject deſerving our compaſſion, and an inſtance of the uſual progreſs of men's ſen⯑timents during that age. This man, whoſe elegant genius and familiar acquaint⯑ance 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 [188] 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 Bain⯑ham, in particular, a gentleman of the temple, experienced from him the high⯑eſt ſeverity. Bainham, accuſed of favouring the new opinions, was carried to More's houſe, and having refuſed to diſcover his accomplices, the chancellor or⯑dered 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, over⯑come 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 teſta⯑ment 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 pro⯑ceeded 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 condemn⯑ed 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 ſpecta⯑tors were much affected with the horrors of his puniſhment; and ſome mendi⯑cant 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 peo⯑ple, 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 ſympa⯑shy 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 [189] tenderly embraced the faggots, which were to be the inſtruments of his puniſh⯑ment, 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 unre⯑lenting perſecutors.

BUT tho' Henry neglected not to puniſh the proteſtant doctrine, which he eſteemed hereſy, his moſt formidable enemies, he knew, were the zealous ad⯑herents to the ancient religion, chiefly the monks, who, having their immediate dependance on the Roman pontiff, apprehended their own ruin to be the cer⯑tain conſequence of aboliſhing his authority in England. Peyto, a friar, preach⯑ing 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 proceed⯑ings, and gave Peyto the appellations of a rebel, a ſlanderer, a dog, and a tray⯑tor. 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 reſent⯑ment 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, [190] founded on them a project, by which he hoped to draw both profit and conſidera⯑tion 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 Ma⯑ſters, and to draw ſuch pilgrimages to it as uſually frequented the more famous images and relicts. In proſecution of this deſign, Elizabeth pretended revela⯑tions, 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 convul⯑ſions; 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 impoſ⯑ture to ſucceed beyond their own expectations, began to extend their views, and to lay the foundation of more important enterprizes. They taught their peni⯑tent 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 Eli⯑zabeth^†. 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 am⯑baſſadors 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 [191] 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 at⯑tainder 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 cri⯑minal ſpeeches which they heard from Elizabeth^†: And they were thrown into priſon. The better to undeceive the multitude, the forgery of many of the pro⯑pheteſs's miracles was detected; and even the ſcandalous proſtitution of her man⯑ners 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.

year 1535 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. Mean⯑while, 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 opi⯑nion, eſpecially one that no way affected the King's temporal right, to be a capi⯑tal 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 extra⯑ordinary. Even the ſtern, unrelenting mind of Henry was, at firſt, ſhocked [192] 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 extremi⯑ties. 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 ex⯑ecution of Fiſher, bi⯑ſhop of Ro⯑cheſter. 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, wil⯑ling to recompenſe the ſufferings of ſo faithful an adherent, created him a cardi⯑nal; 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 pro⯑motion of a man, merely for his oppoſition to royal authority, rouzed the in⯑dignation 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 Tho⯑mas More. THE execution of this prelate was intended as a warning to More, whoſe com⯑pliance, 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 im⯑perious 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 pre⯑vailed 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 ano⯑ther, 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, [193] 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 face⯑tiouſneſs, 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 for⯑giveneſs, 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 com⯑mitted 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 diſ⯑covered the moſt violent rage againſt the King; and numerous libels were pub⯑liſhed, by the wits and orators of Italy, comparing him to Caligula, Nero, Do⯑mitian, 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 con⯑ciliate a friendſhip between him and the court of Rome. But Henry was ac⯑cuſtomed 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 excom⯑municated. 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 king⯑dom to any invader; commanded the nobility to take arms againſt him; freed [194] 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 cen⯑ſures 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 prote⯑ſtant 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 remit⯑ing 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 theologi⯑ans 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 meta⯑phyſical 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 aſſo⯑ciate 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 [195] and that monarch was ſo inveterate, that he eſteemed himſelf ſure of a ſincere ally in one or other of theſe potentates.

year 1536 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 at6th January.Kimbolton in the county of Huntingdon, in the fiftieth year of her age. ADeath of Queen Cathe⯑rine.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 in⯑juries, 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 con⯑cluded 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 ex⯑preſſed 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 foun⯑dation 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 for⯑mer breach of friendſhip came entirely from himſelf: As to the conditions pro⯑poſed; 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 [196] 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 medi⯑ate 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 em⯑peror 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 in⯑ſults 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 re⯑mains of his forces. An army of imperialiſts, near 30,000 ſtrong, which in⯑vaded 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 return⯑ing to his capital. Recommended by ſo agreeable and ſeaſonable an inſtance of [197] 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 de⯑rived 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 par⯑ticipation. He therefore diſpatched Pommeraye to London, in order to apolo⯑gize for this meaſure; but Henry, with his uſual openneſs and freedom, ex⯑preſſed 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 re⯑ſpect, 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 vir⯑tues 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 expe⯑dients, 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 politi⯑cal light, will appear the radical inconvenience of the catholic religion; and every [198] other diſadvantage, attending that communion, ſeems to have an inſeparable con⯑nection with theſe religious inſtitutions. Papal uſurpations, the tyranny of the in⯑quiſition, 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 protec⯑tion 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 con⯑teſt, 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 natu⯑rally 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 vicege⯑rent, a new office, by which the King's ſupremacy, or the abſolute, uncontroul⯑able power aſſumed over the church, was delegated to him. He employed Lay⯑ton, London, Price, Gage, Petre, Bellaſis, and others, as commiſſioners, who carried on, every where, a rigorous enquiry with regard to the conduct and de⯑portment 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 mo⯑naſteries, 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 calum⯑nies 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 [199] reproaches, which it is ſafeſt to credit, are ſuch as point at vices, naturally con⯑nected 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 Par⯑liament 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 mo⯑naſteries. 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; be⯑ſides their goods, chattels, and plate, computed at a hundred thouſand pounds [200] 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 in⯑tended to proceed in ſpoiling the church of her patrimony^‖.

THE act formerly paſſed, empowering the King to name thirty-two commiſſi⯑oners 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 pil⯑laging, 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 li⯑veries, 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 Par⯑liament memorable, not only for the great and important innovations which it introduced, but alſo for the long time it had ſat, and the frequent proroga⯑tions 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 convoca⯑tion. THE convocation, which ſat during this ſeſſion, were engaged in a very im⯑portant 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 [201] 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 cler⯑gy ſtood in direct oppoſition to the original text, dictated by Supreme Intelli⯑gence: 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 acknow⯑ledged 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, re⯑vealed 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 ſpiri⯑tual 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 ſcrip⯑ture, 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 pro⯑found 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 illu⯑ſions: 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 [202] 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 multi⯑plied tropes and figures, was ſufficient to kindle the zeal of fanaticiſm, and there⯑by 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 autho⯑rity 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 tranſla⯑tion 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 proſpe⯑rity, 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 deter⯑mined 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 ali⯑enated 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 pre⯑ſent, diſappointed, his temper, equally violent and ſuperſtitious, was diſ⯑poſed 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.

[203] 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 in⯑fluence of her beauty on all around her, and ſhe indulged herſelf in an eaſy fa⯑miliarity 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 interpo⯑ſed, 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 ſuſ⯑picions into the King's mind; and as ſhe was a woman of a very profligate cha⯑racter, 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 poi⯑ſoned 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 ſlight⯑eſt 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 re⯑morſes and contrarieties; and might at laſt have ſerved only to augment that af⯑fection, on which it was founded. But it was a more ſtern jealouſy, foſtered en⯑tirely by pride: His love was wholly transferred to another object. Jane Sey⯑mour, 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 gal⯑lantry, and who deem the young damſels of their court rather honoured than diſ⯑graced by their paſſion, he never thought of any other attachment than that of mar⯑riage; [204] and in order to attain this end, he underwent more difficulties and com⯑mitted 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 ca⯑ſual, but interpreted by him as an inſtance of gallantry to ſome of her para⯑mours^*. 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 be⯑trayed 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 af⯑fection 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 [205] 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.

Her trial. THIS letter had no influence on the unrelenting mind of Henry, who was de⯑termined 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 [207] 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 be⯑lieved 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 ſacri⯑ficing an innocent Queen to the cruelty of their tyrant. Tho' unaſſiſted by coun⯑ſel, ſhe defended herſelf with great judgment and preſence of mind; and the ſpectators could not forbear pronouncing her entirely innocent. Judgment, how⯑ever, 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 plea⯑ſure. 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 decla⯑rations 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 attach⯑ment had been acknowledged between her and the earl of Northumberland, then lord Piercy; and he now queſtioned the nobleman with regard to theſe engage⯑ments. Northumberland took an oath before the two archbiſhops, that no con⯑tract 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 ve⯑racity. [208] ^*. The Queen, however, was ſhaken by menaces of executing the ſen⯑tence 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 execu⯑tion. THE Queen now prepared for ſuffering that death to which ſhe was ſen⯑tenced. She ſent her laſt meſſage to the King, and acknowledged the obligations which ſhe owed him, in continuing thus uniformly his endeavours for her ad⯑vancement: 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 pro⯑teſtations 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 de⯑clarations; 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 ac⯑cuſe 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 queſ⯑tion. 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 [209] was able to bring proof againſt none of them. The whole tenour of her con⯑duct 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 im⯑patience 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 prin⯑ceſs, then about twenty years of age, to adopt his theological tenets; to acknow⯑ledge 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 oc⯑caſion to praiſe the King for his wonderful gifts of grace and nature: He com⯑pared 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 Bo⯑leyn [210] 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 pa⯑tent, to diſpoſe of the crown: An enormous conceſſion^†, eſpecially when en⯑truſted to a prince ſo violent and capricious in his humour. Whoever being re⯑quired, 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 inquiſi⯑tion was eſtabliſhed in the kingdom, as well as the accuſations of treaſon multi⯑plied 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 de⯑ſign, 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 confine⯑ment. 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, eccle⯑ſiaſtical or civil, or received any grant or charter from the crown; and yet re⯑fuſed to renounce the pope by oath, was declared to be guilty of treaſon. The re⯑nounciation 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 ad⯑vances [211] 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 in⯑trigue, the members diſcovered an unlimited attachment to his perſon and go⯑vernment^‡.

A convoca⯑tion. 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 ran⯑cour. 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 Sa⯑liſbury, Hilſey of Rocheſter, Fox of Hereford, Barlow of St. David's. The oppoſite party were led by Lee archbiſhop of York, Stokeſley biſhop of Lon⯑don, Tonſtal of Durham, Gardiner of Wincheſter, Longland of Lincoln, Sher⯑borne 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 con⯑formable to his ſpeculative principles: And both of them had alternately the ad⯑vantage of gaining on his humour, by which he was more governed than by ei⯑ther 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 er⯑roneous, and which was a collection of principles, ſome held by the ancient Lol⯑lards, 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 [212] which might be unpleaſant to the King, whom they acknowledge their ſu⯑preme head, and whoſe commands they were reſolved to obey; renouncing the pope's uſurped authority, with all his laws and inventions, now extin⯑guiſhed 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 reli⯑gion; 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 eſta⯑bliſhed 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 peo⯑ple againſt idolatry, and the abuſe of theſe ſenſible repreſentations. The ancient faith was adopted in maintaining the expediency of praying to ſaints; the late in⯑novations 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 imme⯑diate 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 [213] where departed ſouls are retained, before they reach Paradiſe, as well as the na⯑ture 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 abſo⯑lute, 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 diſſo⯑lution 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. [214] 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 rea⯑ſonable 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 coun⯑try, 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, be⯑ing 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 par⯑liament 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 pa⯑riſhes 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, find⯑ing themſelves thus reduced to a grievous ſlavery, inſtilled into the people thoſe diſcontents, which they had long harboured in their own boſoms.

[215] 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 Octo⯑ber. 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 in⯑formed 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 diſ⯑ſipate 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 re⯑turn 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 accuſ⯑tomed 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 [216] 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 pro⯑vinces, flocked to their ſtandard; and their zeal, no leſs than their numbers, in⯑ſpired 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, how⯑ever, 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 fa⯑voured 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 im⯑putation. 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 dur⯑ing the night, there fell ſuch violent rains as rendered the river utterly impaſſi⯑ble; 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 [217] 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 an⯑ſwer 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 ſecu⯑rity: 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 rea⯑ſon 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 De⯑cember. He publiſhed, how⯑ever, 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 govern⯑ment, 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 in⯑expert folk, do take upon you to appoint us, who be meet or not for our council."’

year 1537 As this pacification was not likely to be of long continuance, Norfolk was or⯑dered to keep his army together, and to go into the northern parts, in order to ex⯑act 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 [218] 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 Nor⯑folk 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 Ed⯑ward. 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 drown⯑ed 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 Beau⯑champ, 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.

year 1538 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 [219] 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 ac⯑count 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 al⯑lowing 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 mode⯑rately, 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 mona⯑ſteries. 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 [220] by that motive. A new viſitation was appointed of all the monaſteries in Eng⯑land; 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 ſe⯑cretly 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 irreproach⯑able 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 em⯑ployment, 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 abo⯑liſh 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 pub⯑liſhed 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 venera⯑tion, were expoſed to their ridicule; and the religious ſpirit, now leſs bent on ex⯑terior 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 par⯑ings [221] 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 wo⯑men; 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 na⯑tions of the world, and even took place during the moſt refined periods of an⯑tiquity, form no peculiar nor violent reproach on the catholic religion.

THERE were alſo diſcovered in the monaſteries ſome impoſtures of a more ar⯑tificial 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 ima⯑gine the veneration, with which ſuch a relict was regarded. A miraculous cir⯑cumſtance 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 appella⯑tion 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 Ga⯑therin, was alſo brought to London, and cut in pieces: And by a cruel refine⯑ment 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 con⯑vent for a debt of forty pounds; but as the King's commiſſioners refuſed to re⯑leaſe 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 [222] 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 ex⯑tremely encouraged the devotion of pilgrimages towards his tomb, and number⯑leſs 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 cere⯑mony 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 Can⯑terbury. The devotion towards him had quite effaced in that town the adora⯑tion 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. Tho⯑mas 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 autho⯑rity 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 ca⯑lender; 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 par⯑liament. 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 hun⯑dred 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 con⯑vents, [223] 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 be⯑fore 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 pro⯑perty of their eſtates. In order to reconcile the people to ſuch mighty inno⯑vations, 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 en⯑gaging 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 hap⯑pened 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 hap⯑pened, 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 re⯑gard 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 Fur⯑neſs, 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, main⯑tained [224] from their offals, there were many decayed gentlemen, who paſſed their lives in travelling from convent to convent, and were entirely ſubſiſted at the ta⯑bles 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 vio⯑lences 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 de⯑vil, 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 pro⯑feſſed 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 poſ⯑ſible 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 ge⯑nerous diſpoſition, by which, during his whole life, he was ſo much diſtinguiſh⯑ed; 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 con⯑ferred 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 ap⯑peared 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 [225] 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 em⯑peror 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 reſent⯑ment; 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 maintain⯑ed 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 pre⯑ſided 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 [226] 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.

THE rough hand of Henry ſeemed well adapted for rending aſunder thoſe bands, by which the ancient ſuperſtition had faſtened itſelf on the king⯑dom; and tho', after renouncing the pope's ſupremacy, and ſuppreſſing monaſte⯑ries, 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 ſummon⯑ed 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 pre⯑ſcribed 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 inſinua⯑tion and addreſs, been very ſucceſsful in his endeavours. After her death, Gar⯑diner, [227] who was returned from his embaſſy to France, kept the King more in ſuſ⯑pence; 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 Cran⯑mer 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. Gar⯑diner 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 enti⯑tled 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 no⯑thing, 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 Lam⯑bert. THERE was one Lambert^*, a ſchool-maſter in London, who had been queſ⯑tioned 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 pro⯑mulgate his tenets; and having heard Dr. Taylor, afterwards biſhop of Lin⯑coln, 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 ele⯑ments. [228] 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 him⯑ſelf. 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 deter⯑mined 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 audi⯑ence: Henry appeared on his throne, accompanied with all the enſigns of ma⯑jeſty: 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 uſur⯑pations 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 de⯑termined to maintain the purity of the catholic faith, and to puniſh with the ut⯑moſt ſeverity all departure from it: And that he had taken the preſent opportu⯑nity, before ſo learned and grave an auditory, of convincing Lambert of his er⯑rors; but if he ſtill perſevered obſtinately in them, he muſt expect the moſt con⯑dign puniſhment^‡.

AFTER this preamble, which was not very encouraging, the King aſked Lam⯑bert, with a ſtern countenance, what his opinion was of Chriſt's corporal pre⯑ſence in the ſacrament of the altar; and when Lambert began his diſcourſe with [229] ſome compliment to his majeſty, he rejected the praiſe with diſdain and indigna⯑tion. He afterwards preſſed Lambert with ſome arguments, drawn from ſcrip⯑ture 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, con⯑founded, 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 ter⯑rors 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 con⯑ſumed 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 [230] 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^‡

year 1539 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 ag⯑gravated, 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 impor⯑tant, 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 Can⯑terbury 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 opi⯑nions, 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 com⯑mittee, 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 aſ⯑ſented 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 [231] 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 pri⯑vilege of abjuring: An unheard of ſeverity, and unknown to the inquiſition it⯑ſelf. The denial of any of the other five articles, even tho' recanted, was pu⯑niſhable 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 confeſ⯑ſion, and from receiving the euchariſt at the accuſtomed times, ſubjected the perſon to fine and impriſonment, during the King's pleaſure; and if the crimi⯑nal perſevered after conviction, he was puniſhable by death and forſeiture, as in caſes of felony^*. Commiſſioners were to be appointed by the King, for en⯑quiring 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' diſ⯑miſſed 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. Cran⯑mer 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 com⯑pliance^‡. 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. La⯑timer and Shaxton threw up their biſhoprics, on account of this law, and were committed to priſon.

[232] 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 offen⯑ders 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 aſſem⯑bling and deliberations of Parliament; and that, tho' the King was empowered, by his authority, derived from God, to conſult the public good on theſe occaſi⯑ons, yet the oppoſition of refractory ſubjects might puſh him to extremity and violence: For theſe reaſons, the Parliament, that they might remove all occa⯑ſion of doubt, aſcertained by a ſtatute this prerogative of the crown, and en⯑abled his majeſty, with the advice of his council, to ſet forth proclamations, en⯑joining 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 pre⯑tended, 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 ac⯑cuſtomed, from their own authority, to iſſue proclamations, and to exact obedi⯑ence to them; and this prerogative was, no doubt, a ſtrong ſymptom of abſo⯑lute 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 [233] 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 Saliſ⯑bury, 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 cor⯑reſpondence with her ſon, the cardinal: But Henry found, either that theſe of⯑fences could not be proved, or that they would not by law be ſubject to ſuch ſe⯑vere puniſhment as he deſired to inflict upon her. He reſolved, therefore, to pro⯑ceed 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 forth⯑coming, 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 af⯑firmed, 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 en⯑quiry, 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 [234] 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 em⯑ployed 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 con⯑ventuals 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 con⯑vents 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 par⯑liament 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 aſcer⯑tains 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 [235] Bible in his family: A conceſſion regarded by that party, as a moſt important victory.

Henry's pro⯑jects of mar⯑riage. 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 pre⯑ference to the King of Scots. But Francis, tho' ſenſible that the alliance of Eng⯑land 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 in⯑formed, 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 deli⯑cate 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 gal⯑lante ſpirit of Francis was ſhocked with this propoſal; and he was impreſſed with [236] 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 prin⯑ces, 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 re⯑preſentations, 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 gentle⯑man, 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 mar⯑riage 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 [237] Countries by the inhabitants of Ghent, and ſeemed to threaten the moſt danger⯑ous 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 cour⯑teſy; 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 Eng⯑land^*. An alliance with the German princes ſeemed now, more than ever, re⯑quiſite for his intereſt and ſafety; and he knew, that, if he ſent back the Prin⯑ceſs of Cleves, ſuch an affront would be highly reſented by her friends and fa⯑mily. year 1540 6 January. He was therefore reſolved, notwithſtanding his averſion to her, to com⯑plete 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, com⯑plained to the Parliament of the great diverſity of religions, which ſtill pre⯑vailed among his ſubjects: A grievance, he ſaid, which ought the leſs to be en⯑dured; becauſe the ſ [...]riptures were now publiſhed in Engliſh, and ought uni⯑verſally to be the ſtandard of belief to all mankind. But he had appointed, he [238] 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 ge⯑neral 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 or⯑der, partly eccleſiaſtical, partly military, had, by their valour, done great ſer⯑vice 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 obſti⯑nately 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 re⯑courſe 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 diſſi⯑pated 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 expec⯑tations 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 [239] him at once to ſeek the diſſolution of a marriage ſo odious to him, and to in⯑volve his miniſter in ruin, who had been the author of it. Fall of Crom⯑well. 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 ge⯑neral, 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 cham⯑berlain, 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 per⯑ſon. 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 reli⯑gion: The proteſtants, obſerving his exterior concurrence with all the perſecu⯑tions exerciſed againſt them, were inclined to bear him as little favour; and re⯑proached 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 adminiſtra⯑tion, 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 be⯑ing 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 oppo⯑ſition. 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, [240] 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 move⯑ments 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 exe⯑cution, 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 aſ⯑ſiſtance, re-inſtated him in his former proſperous circumſtances^†.

King's di⯑vorce 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 con⯑tracted 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 extraor⯑dinary; that, when he eſpouſed Anne, he had not inwardly given his conſent, [241] 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 accept⯑ed 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 cold⯑neſs 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 re⯑mained 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 [242] 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 pro⯑miſe, and put the duke of Orleans in poſſeſſion of the Milaneſe: He informed So⯑lyman, 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 ob⯑ligations, and had ſacrificed him to a new confederate: He even poiſoned and miſrepreſented many things, which the unſuſpecting heart of the French mo⯑narch 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 ex⯑tremely 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 Cathe⯑rine 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 ſubſe⯑quent 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 Ger⯑rard. He diſcuſſed theological queſtions even at the ſtake; and as the debate be⯑tween 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 en⯑treated the ſheriff to carry to the King his dying requeſts, which he fondly ima⯑gined would have authority with that monarch, who had ſent him to the ſtake▪ The purport of his requeſts was, that Henry, beſides repreſſing ſuperſtitious ce⯑remonies, ſhould be extremely vigilant in preventing fornication and common ſwearing^†.

[243] 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 exe⯑cuted 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 incon⯑ſiderable 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 re⯑fuſed 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: year 1541 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.

[244] 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 to⯑wards 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 Domi⯑nicans, who, under colour of friendſhip, and a ſympathy in opinion, had inſi⯑nuated himſelf into his confidence, delated him to Beaton, archbiſhop of St. An⯑drews. Hamilton was invited to St. Andrews, in order to maintain, with ſome of the clergy, a diſpute concerning the controverted points; and after much rea⯑ſoning 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 at⯑tending 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 judg⯑ment-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 Hamil⯑ton 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 an⯑ſwered, 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 ſcrip⯑tures 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 [245] him in [...] cellar: For that the ſmoke of Mr. Patrick Hamilton had infect⯑ed all thoſe on whom it blew^‡

THE clergy were at that time reduced to great difficulties, not only in Scot⯑land, but all over Europe. As the reformers aimed at a total ſubverſion of anci⯑ent 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 puniſh⯑ment, 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 diſ⯑poſed to a revolution in religion.

BUT the moſt dangerous ſymptom for the clergy in Scotland was, that the no⯑bility, 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 at⯑tended them in the neighbouring country. Henry alſo, never ceaſed exhorting his nephew to imitate his example; and being moved both by the pride of mak⯑ing 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 friend⯑ſhip 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 go⯑verned: [246] 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 touch⯑ed 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 thankſ⯑giving 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 in⯑telligence 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 edu⯑cated, 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 Hert⯑ford 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 privy⯑ſeal, 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 ſitua⯑tion; and had not full proofs been found, certain and inevitable deſtruction hung [247] 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 Laſ⯑celles, 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 be⯑ing 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 mar⯑riage; 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 de⯑grees of guilt.

year 1542 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 begg⯑ed him to give his aſſent to this bill, not in perſon, which would renew his vexa⯑tion, 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, [248] 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, Ca⯑therine's grandmother, her uncle, lord William Howard, and his lady, toge⯑ther 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 extra⯑vagance. 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 extra⯑ordinary 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, toge⯑ther with the lady Rocheford. They behaved in a manner ſuitable to their diſ⯑ſolute 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 ſen⯑timents 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 far⯑ther 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 preſi⯑dent, 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 [249] year 1541 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 de⯑vaſtations on the ſecular clergy. He extorted from many of the biſhops a ſur⯑render 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 bi⯑gotry 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 com⯑miſſioners 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 di⯑vines 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 ſome⯑what 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 [250] 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 acknow⯑legement of that ſpiritual ſupremacy, which he believed inherent in him, em⯑ployed 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 in⯑fallible ſtandard of orthodoxy. All the delicate points of juſtification, faith, free⯑will, good works, and grace, are there defined, with a leaning towards the opi⯑nion of the reformers: The ſacraments, which a few years before were only al⯑lowed 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 in⯑conſtancy. 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 au⯑thority, 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 em⯑ploying Engliſh expreſſions throughout, ſeveral Latin words ſhould ſtill be pre⯑ſerved, becauſe they contained, as he pretended, ſuch peculiar energy and ſigni⯑ficance, that they had no correſpondent terms in the vulgar tongue^†. Among theſe were ecleſia, paenitentia, pontifex, contritus, holocauſta, ſacramentum, elementa, [251] ceremonia, muſterium, preſbyter, ſacrificium, humilitas, ſatisfactio, peccatum, gratia, hoſtia, charitas, &c. But as this mixture would have appeared extremely bar⯑barous, 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 peo⯑ple, 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 fana⯑tical 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 en⯑tered, [252] 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 re⯑ſtrain their tongues or pens, that they would cordially agree in any ſet of tenets or opinions preſcribed to them.

CHAP. VII.

year 1542 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 ob⯑tained 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, con⯑formable 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 co⯑louring 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 ho⯑mage 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 ap⯑peaſe his uncle, he would hearken to no terms of accommodation. While Nor⯑folk was aſſembling his army at Newcaſtle, Sir Robert Bowes, attended with [253] Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir Ralph Evers, Sir Brian Latoun, and others, made an in⯑curſion into Scotland, and advanced towards Jedburgh, with an intention of pil⯑laging 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 ne⯑gligent in his preparations for defence, and had poſted a conſiderable body, un⯑der 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 pri⯑ſoners. A few only of ſmall note fell in this ſkirmiſh^*.

THE duke of Norfolk, mean while, began to move from his camp at New⯑caſtle; 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 re⯑quired 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, depriv⯑ing lord Maxwel, their general, of his commiſſion, and conferring the com⯑mand on Oliver Sinclair, a private gentleman, who was his favourite. The [254] 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 com⯑mand 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 prin⯑cipal 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 de⯑gree; 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 paſ⯑ſions ſo wrought upon him, that he would admit of no conſolation, but aban⯑doned 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 De⯑cember. 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 king⯑dom, 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^*.

[255] year 1543 HENRY was no ſooner informed of his victory and of the death of his ne⯑phew, 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 king⯑dom^*. He called together the Scotch nobles, who were his priſoners; and af⯑ter 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 pre⯑vented. 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, hoſta⯑ges 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 ſpread⯑ing 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 proper⯑ties 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 re⯑quired 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 im⯑port, 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 him⯑ſelf. 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 [256] 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 conven⯑tion 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 Eng⯑liſh 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 hoſ⯑tages to Henry; and that the kingdom, notwithſtanding its union with Eng⯑land, 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 ap⯑peared 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 Eng⯑land 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 pro⯑duced 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 diſ⯑ſembled [257] 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 im⯑portant article; but received for anſwer, that his authority was very precari⯑ous, 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 pro⯑miſe 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 na⯑tion, 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 ſen⯑ſible 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 tranſ⯑actions, [258] 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 diſ⯑ſatisfied, 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 diſ⯑guſted, that Francis, after ſo many obligations which he owed him, had ſacri⯑ficed him to the emperor; and, in the confidence of friendſhip, had raſhly re⯑vealed 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 twenty⯑five 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 repa⯑ration 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 object⯑ed to Charles his alliance with the heretical King of England, as no leſs odious [259] 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 Cle⯑ment 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 eſta⯑bliſhment 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 pro⯑clamations. 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 en⯑tered a proteſt againſt this ſtatute; and it is equally remarkable, that that pro⯑teſt 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 re⯑garding 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 hence⯑forth 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 of⯑fence, were only to forfeit their goods and chattels, and to be liable to perpetual [260] 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 en⯑acted, 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 autho⯑rity in his kingdom; and all his ſubjects were, under the ſevereſt penalties, ex⯑preſsly bound to receive implicitly, whatever doctrine he ſhould pleaſe to recom⯑mend 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 ſub⯑mit 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 ef⯑fected 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.

[261] 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 accom⯑modation, however diſhonourable. He even gave them a ſure pledge of his ſin⯑cerity, 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 re⯑duced 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 render⯑ed the party, the cardinal found, that, ſince he muſt chooſe between the friend⯑ſhip 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 ſer⯑vices, 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 at⯑tain 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 [262] 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 diſ⯑contented 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 ene⯑mies 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 negocia⯑tion 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 accom⯑modation 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 ene⯑mies.

year 1544 WHILE the winter ſeaſon reſtrained Henry from military operations, he ſum⯑moned 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 circum⯑ſtances, 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 [263] 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 circum⯑ſtance 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 re⯑fund 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 diſ⯑tinction 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 ſuppoſi⯑tion! 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 of⯑fences comprized in that ſanguinary ſtatute, except on the oath of twelve per⯑ſons 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 involv⯑ed 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 [264] money, and ordered it to be current by his proclamation. He named commiſ⯑ſioners 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 ex⯑pectations 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 compoſi⯑tion^*. Theſe powers of the prerogative, (which at that time paſſed for unqueſ⯑tioned) of the King's compelling any man to ſerve in any office, and of impri⯑ſoning 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 ſer⯑vitude^†.

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 [265] [...] 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 mo⯑narchy, and [...] neceſſary conſequence, have involved the ſubjection of England. Theſe two princes had agreed to invade France with forces amount⯑ing 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 Nor⯑folk 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 flouriſh⯑ing 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 go⯑vernor, 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 engage⯑ments 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 Septem⯑ber. He was killed during the courſe of the ſiege, and the town was im⯑mediately [266] ſurrendered to Henry by the cowardice of Vervin; who was after⯑wards 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 Eng⯑liſh 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 Septem⯑ber. 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 daugh⯑ter, 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 re⯑nounced 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 ſepa⯑rate from the Engliſh in Picardy; 30th Septem⯑ber. 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 in⯑road into that kingdom; and having laid waſte the counties of Tiviotdale and the Merſe, they proceeded to the abbey of Coldingham, which they took poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 bat⯑teries 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 re⯑treat. 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 ad⯑vantages over them. Evers, elated with this ſucceſs, boaſted to Henry, that he [267] had conquered all Scotland to the Forth; and he claimed a reward for this im⯑portant 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. year 1545 The next inroad made by the Engliſh, ſhewed the vanity of Evers's hopes. This gene⯑ral led about five thouſand men into Tiviotdale, and was employed in ravaging that country; when intelligence was brought him, that ſome Scotch forces ap⯑peared near the abbey of Melroſs. Angus had excited the regent to more acti⯑vity; 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 aſ⯑ſault of the Engliſh. 17th of Fe⯑bruary. 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 re⯑ſiſtance, 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 hun⯑dred men, under the command of Montgomery, lord of Lorges^*. Reinforced by theſe ſuccours, the regent aſſembled an army of fifteen thouſand men at Had⯑ington, 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, be⯑ſides 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 [268] 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 Eng⯑liſh 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 me⯑moirs^†obſerves, as a circumſtance ſome what ſingular, that each of theſe nume⯑rous 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 [269] 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 expen⯑ſive armament.

23 November. A Parliament. THE great expence of theſe two wars, maintained by Henry, obliged him to ſum⯑mon 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 ſhil⯑lings a pound. But the Parliament, apprehenſive leſt more demands ſhould be made upon them, thought to ſave themſelves by a very extraordinary libe⯑rality 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 re⯑venues. 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 au⯑thority 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 whatſo⯑ever. 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 com⯑plained of their diſſenſions, diſputes and animoſities in religion. He told them, [270] 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 op⯑probious 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 pro⯑ſtituted, 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.

year 1546 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 pro⯑greſs 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 Em⯑peror. 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 hun⯑dred and forty thouſand pounds ſterling^†, was a bad ſecurity for a debt, which was not a third of the value.

[271] THE King, being now freed from all foreign wars, had leiſure to give his at⯑tention 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 wor⯑ſhip, 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 ſe⯑verity 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 en⯑ormities. Cranmer was employing his authority to engage Henry to farther inno⯑vations, 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 de⯑clared, 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 diſ⯑advantage 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, ſee⯑ing the point to which they tended, feigned a compliance, and deſired the coun⯑cil 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. [272] All the world now gave the primate for loſt; and his old friends, from merce⯑nary 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 capi⯑tal 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 reconcile⯑ment. 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 dogma⯑ti [...]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 me⯑naces 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 forti⯑fied her reſolution to endure the utmoſt extremity rather than relinquiſh her reli⯑gious 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 attach⯑ed [273] 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 main⯑tained 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 pre⯑ſerving 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 chan⯑cellor 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 argu⯑ment; and being ſecretly inclined to the principles of the reformers, ſhe un⯑warily diſcovered too much of her mind on theſe occaſions. Henry, highly pro⯑voked [274] that ſhe ſhould preſume to differ from him, made complaints of her ob⯑ſtinacy to Gardiner, who gladly laid hold of the opportunity to inflame the quar⯑rel. He praiſed the King's anxious care of preſerving the orthodoxy of his ſub⯑jects; 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 to⯑pics; 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 de⯑ſpair 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 ſpecula⯑tions 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 huſ⯑band 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 learn⯑ing, 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 in⯑ſtructions."’ She meekly replied, that ſhe was ſenſible how little ſhe was in⯑titled to theſe praiſes; that tho' ſhe uſually declined not any converſation, how⯑ever ſublime, when propoſed by his majeſty, ſhe well knew, that her concep⯑tions could ſerve to no other purpoſe than to give him a little momentary amuſe⯑ment; 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, [275] 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 pro⯑tection and kindneſs. Her enemies, who knew nothing of this turn, pre⯑pared 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 chancel⯑lor appeared with forty of the purſuivants. The King ſpoke to him at ſome diſ⯑tance 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 ma⯑lice had endeavoured to widen the breach, could never afterwards recover his fa⯑vour 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 Gardi⯑ner. 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 king⯑dom, and had rendered very conſiderable ſervices to the crown. The duke himſelf had in his youth diſtinguiſhed himſelf by naval enterprizes: He had much contri⯑buted 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 mar⯑ried to two of his nieces; and the King's ſon, the duke of Richmond, had mar⯑ried 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 circum⯑ſtances, 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 tranquil⯑lity, and to the new eccleſiaſtical ſyſtem, from the attempts of ſo potent a ſub⯑ject. But nothing tended more to expoſe Norfolk to the King's vengeance, [276] 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 diſtinguiſh⯑ed 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, ſome⯑what 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 pro⯑poſal of marriage, which were made him; Henry imagined, that he had enter⯑tained views of eſpouſing the lady Mary; and he was inſtantly determined to re⯑preſs, 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. year 1547 12th of De⯑cember. 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 de⯑fence, 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 [277] dutcheſs, with whom he lived on bad terms, had been ſo baſe as to carry intel⯑ligence to his enemies of all ſhe knew againſt him: Elizabeth Holland, a miſ⯑treſs 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 king⯑dom 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 pro⯑teſting his innocence: Soon after he embraced a more proper expedient for ap⯑peaſing Henry, by making a ſubmiſſion and confeſſion, ſuch as his enemies re⯑quired: 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 com⯑mons. 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 di⯑rections, 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 car⯑ried 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 king⯑dom, 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 pre⯑tence, 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 reſigna⯑tion; [278] and deſired that Cranmer might be ſent for: But before that prelate ar⯑rived, he was ſpeechleſs, tho' he ſtill ſeemed to retain his ſenſes. Cranmer de⯑ſired 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 con⯑firmed 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 ob⯑liged, under the penalty of forfeiting their title to the crown, not to marry with⯑out 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 Bran⯑don, 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 him⯑ſelf 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 pur⯑gatory; 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 pur⯑gatory 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 ap⯑pellation of a great prince; while his tyranny, and cruelty, ſeem to exclude him [279] 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 guid⯑ance 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 deter⯑mined, 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, preſump⯑tion, 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 attach⯑ment. 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 additi⯑onal luſtre on what was great and magnanimous in his character: The emulation between the emperor and the French King, rendered his alliance, notwithſtand⯑ing his impolitic conduct, of great importance in Europe: The extenſive powers of his prerogative, and the ſubmiſſive, not to ſay ſlaviſh, diſpoſition of his Par⯑liament, made it the more eaſy for him to aſſume and maintain that entire domi⯑nion by which his reign is ſo much diſtinguiſhed in the Engliſh hiſtory.

IT may ſeem a little extraordinary, that notwithſtanding his cruelty, his ex⯑tortion, 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 ſub⯑dued, 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 in⯑tercourſe of friendſhip with Francis, more ſincere and diſintereſted than uſually takes place between neighbouring princes. Their common jealouſy of the em⯑peror Charles, and ſome reſemblance in their characters, (tho' the compariſon is [280] 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 twenty⯑three 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 dur⯑ing 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 at⯑tachment 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 vio⯑lent 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 con⯑tradictions; inſomuch, that, had they been ſtrictly executed, every man, with⯑out 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 trea⯑ſon 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 per⯑ſon 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 Par⯑liaments. 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 [281] 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 or⯑dered, 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 ar⯑rays 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 eſti⯑mation 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 fron⯑tier [282] 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^‖, Bou⯑lougne 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, how⯑ever, 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 at⯑tention 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 im⯑poſition 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 defraud⯑ed him of this duty: And to provide a remedy, they vote him that ſupply dur⯑ing 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 con⯑tinue [283] in the ſame courſe, which had now received the ſanction of many genera⯑tions, ſo much were the opinions of men altered, that a furious tempeſt was ex⯑cited 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 ſove⯑reigns 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 to⯑wards 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 con⯑tinue 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 appren⯑tices, and others of the poorer ſort, in London, began by breaking up the pri⯑ſons, where ſome perſons were confined for inſulting foreigners. They next pro⯑ceeded 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 [284] 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 puniſh⯑ment^*.

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 idle⯑neſs 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 ex⯑tremely 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 magi⯑ſtrate in town or borough, who by his office ought to keep aſſize, ſhould, dur⯑ing 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 bye⯑ends in fixing the aſſize: Yet the law is repealed in this reign. The reaſon aſ⯑ſigned 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, [285] 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 Parlia⯑ment, 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 for⯑merly^*.

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 re⯑trenching 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 far⯑thing. 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 throw⯑ing 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: Be⯑cauſe, ſay they, the commodity being got into few hands, the price of it is raiſed [286] 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 recom⯑mend to a benevolent legiſlator; which ſeems, at firſt fight, the moſt eaſily ad⯑juſted; and which is yet the moſt difficult to ſettle in ſuch a manner, as to at⯑tain 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 en⯑tirely 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 di⯑vided 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 counte⯑nance given to letters by this King and his miniſters, contributed to render learning faſhionable in England; and Eraſmus ſpeaks with great ſatisfaction of the gene⯑ral regard paid by the nobility and gentry of that kingdom to men of know⯑ledge^**. 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.

CHAP. I.

State of the regency. THE late King, by the regulations, which he impoſed on the govern⯑ment 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 eigh⯑teenth year; and as Edward was at preſent only a few months paſt nine, he ap⯑pointed ſixteen executors; to whom, during the minority, he entruſted the go⯑vernment [288] 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 aug⯑mentations; 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 ſta⯑tion 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 ne⯑ceſſary 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 infringe⯑ment of the King's will, which, being corroborated by act of parliament, ought [289] 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 na⯑tion by their own authority, they acquieſced the more willingly in a propoſal, which ſeemed calculated for preſerving public peace and tranquillity. Somerſet pro⯑tector. 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 commiſ⯑ſions, 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 or⯑der to ſupply the place of thoſe who had fallen by former attainders, or the fai⯑lure of iſſue; and that he might enable the perſons to ſupport their new dig⯑nity, 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 en⯑gagements. Hartford was created duke of Somerſet, marſchal and lord trea⯑ſurer; 17th of Fe⯑bruary. Wriotheſely, earl of Southampton; the earl of Eſſex, marqueſs of Nor⯑thampton; viſcount Liſle, earl of Warwick; Sir Thomas Seymour, lord Sey⯑mour of Sudley, and admiral: Sir Richard Rich, Sir William Willoughby, Sir [290] 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 op⯑portunity. Some of them, however, particularly Somerſet the protector, were, in the mean time, endowed with ſpiritual preferments, deanories and preben⯑daries. 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 adminiſtra⯑tion, 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. Com⯑plaints 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 with⯑out 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. Un⯑der pretence, that the vote of the executors, chooſing him protector, was not a ſuffi⯑cient [291] 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 execu⯑tors 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 incur⯑ring 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 le⯑gality might juſtly be queſtioned; ſince it ſeems eſſential to a truſt of this na⯑ture 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 ar⯑guments to juſtify. The connivance, however, of the executors, and their pre⯑ſent 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, poſ⯑ſeſſed of ſovereign power. The actual exerciſe alone of arbitrary adminiſtration, and that in many and great and flagrant and unpopular inſtances, was able ſome⯑times to give ſome umbrage to the nation.

Reformation compleated. THE extenſive authority and imperious character of Henry, had retained the par⯑tizans of both religions in ſubjection; but upon his deceaſe, the hopes of the proteſ⯑tants and the fears of the catholics began to revive, and the zeal of theſe parties pro⯑duced 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 [292] 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 abo⯑lition 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. Af⯑ter Southampton's fall, few members of the council ſeemed to retain any attach⯑ment 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 contra⯑riety of ſpeculative tenets, as well as of diſcipline and worſhip, to render a coali⯑tion 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 ſpi⯑ritual 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 hier⯑archy, and by tendering to them the plunder of the eccleſiaſtics. Wherever the re⯑formation 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 con⯑nected with the antient ſuperſtition. But as the magiſtrate took the lead in Eng⯑land, the tranſition was more gradual; much of the antient religion was ſtill pre⯑ſerved; 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 pru⯑dence, [293] 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 laſt⯑ing; 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 ob⯑tained 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 perſe⯑vering, at leaſt till the young King's majority, in the eccleſiaſtical model, eſta⯑bliſhed 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 conſti⯑tution, ſufficient at leaſt to furniſh a topic of argument to ſuch as were diſcon⯑tented with the preſent exerciſe of authority; this plea could ſcarcely, in the preſent caſe, be maintained with any plauſibility by Gardiner. An act of par⯑liament had inveſted the crown with a legiſlative power; and royal proclama⯑tions, even during a minority, were armed with the force and authority of laws. The protector, finding himſelf ſupported by this ſtatute, was determined to em⯑ploy 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 [294] 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 ſome⯑what 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 de⯑fending 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 in⯑clination, 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 particu⯑lar 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 repre⯑ſented 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 fur⯑ther 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 plea⯑ſure. 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 hand⯑ſome 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 [295] 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 in⯑dignation 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 renounc⯑ing all claim to independent merit in ourſelves, it was calculated to become po⯑pular, 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 op⯑poſition 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 af⯑fairs. 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 ge⯑neral council, which was aſſembled at Trent, and was employed in correcting the abuſes of the church, and in aſcertaining her doctrines. The emperor, who de⯑ſired to repreſs the power of the court of Rome, as well as gain over the prote⯑ſtants, 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 [296] gave inſtructions to his legates, who preſided in the council, to protract the de⯑bates, 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 de⯑ciſion^‡. 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 diſ⯑couraged 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 ca⯑lamity^*.

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 en⯑flamed 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.

[297] Progreſs of the Reforma⯑tion in Scot⯑land. 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 reſo⯑lution, which the cardinal primate had taken to employ the moſt rigorous puniſh⯑ments againſt the reformers, brought matters to a quick deciſion. There was one Wiſhart, a gentleman by birth, who employed himſelf with great zeal in preach⯑ing 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 be⯑coming 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 indig⯑nation, that they had dared to reject the word of God, menaced them, in imita⯑tion of the antient prophets, with ſome imminent calamity; and he withdrew to the weſt country, where he daily increaſed the number of his proſelytes. Mean⯑while, 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 [298] offence againſt him. No ſooner did Wiſhart hear of this change in their diſ⯑poſition, 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 car⯑dinal. 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 [299] 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 con⯑verſion 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 num⯑ber 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 re⯑ject 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 invete⯑rate and antient evils, a new ſource of diſorder had ariſen, the diſputes and con⯑tentions of theology, which were ſufficient to diſturb the moſt ſettled govern⯑ment; 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 dow⯑ager 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, to⯑gether with an abſolution from the pope; and that they ſhould never afterwards [300] be called in queſtion for Beaton's aſſaſſination. Meanwhile, till the pope's abſo⯑lution 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. Be⯑fore 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 exagge⯑rations 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 ſurren⯑dered 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 be⯑come 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 [301] 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 me⯑mory of former miſeries, which at preſent enflamed their mutual animoſity, would then ſerve only to make them cheriſh, with more paſſion, a ſtate of hap⯑pineſs 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 obe⯑dience: That as this ſituation was deſirable to both kingdoms, ſo particularly to Scotland, which had been expoſed to the greateſt miſeries from inteſtine and fo⯑reign 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 to⯑wards Edinburgh, without meeting any reſiſtance for ſome days, except from ſome ſmall caſtles, which were conſtrained to ſurrender at diſcretion. The pro⯑tector 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 [302] 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 mo⯑derate 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 pro⯑tector 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^*. Deter⯑mined therefore to cut off his retreat, they quitted their camp; 10th Septem⯑ber. 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 [303] 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. War⯑wic 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, ad⯑vanced, leiſurely and orderly, towards them. Diſmayed with all theſe circum⯑ſtances, 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 per⯑ceived 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 van⯑quiſhed. 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 ſlaugh⯑tering men, who, from their extreme zeal and animoſity, had engaged in an enterprize ſo ill ſuited to their profeſſion. Few victories have been more de⯑ciſive, or gained with ſmaller loſs to the conquerors. There fell not two hun⯑dred of the Engliſh; and according to the moſt moderate computation, there [304] 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 col⯑lect 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 plun⯑dering 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 carry⯑ing on cabals againſt his authority. Having taken the caſtles of Hume, Dun⯑glaſs, Eymouth, Faſtcaſtle, Roxborough, and ſome other ſmall places; and hav⯑ing 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 So⯑merſet, 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 be⯑ing 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 con⯑ſtitution. 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 Lol⯑lardies 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 an⯑nulled, and ſome dawnings, both of civil and religious liberty, began to appear [305] 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 elec⯑tion 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 reve⯑nues; 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 erect⯑ing grammar ſchools, in farther augmenting the univerſities, and in making better proviſion for the poor and needy^†. But the rapacious courtiers had already de⯑voured 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 [306] 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 appear⯑ed, 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 re⯑pealed 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 regard⯑ing 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.

year 1548 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 pro⯑greſs 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 deno⯑minated ſuperſtitions; tho' it is very fortunate for mankind, when ſuperſtition hap⯑pens 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 [307] from their abuſe, the reverence from the worſhip of them; but the execu⯑tion of this deſign was found, upon trial, very difficult, if not wholly imprac⯑ticable.

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 in⯑different^§. 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 ad⯑vanced 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 lay⯑ing ſome reſtraints on preaching; but finding this expedient ineffectual, they im⯑poſed a total ſilence on the preachers, and thus put an end at once to all the po⯑lemics 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 in⯑clined to contract a ſtronger attachment to ſermons, whence alone they received any occupation or amuſement. The ancient religion, by giving its votaries ſome⯑thing to do, freed them from the trouble of knowing: Sermons were only deli⯑vered 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 ſortifica⯑tions [308] 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 ar⯑rived 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 ca⯑pital^†: 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 re⯑pulſed 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 Queen⯑dowager, 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 an⯑ſwered, 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 [309] of forcing a marriage had become altogether impracticable; and that Henry, being engaged by ſo high a mark of confidence, would take their ſovereign un⯑der 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 ne⯑ceſſary 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 Mon⯑troſe: In the former action, James Stuart, natural brother to the Queen, ac⯑quired 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 effectu⯑ally 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 [310] 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 attack⯑ing 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 Edin⯑burgh, 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 un⯑prepared 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 de⯑parture, 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 intend⯑ed, by his means, to inſpire the nation with ſome greater attachment to the prin⯑ciples 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 ſup⯑porting 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 [311] 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 pre⯑tenſions. 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 Queen⯑dowager, that, forgetting her uſual prudence and decency, ſhe married him im⯑mediately upon the deceaſe of the late King: Inſomuch, that, had ſhe ſoon proved pregnant, it might have been doubtful to which huſband the child be⯑longed. 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 diſ⯑ſenſion between him and the protector, would be greedily laid hold of, to draw on the ruin of both. Finding his remonſtrances ineffectual, he convey⯑ed intelligence of the danger to Somerſet, and engaged him to leave the enter⯑prize 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 autho⯑rity. 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 ſub⯑ject^‖. He even prevailed on the young King, to write a letter to the Parlia⯑ment, [312] 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 pur⯑poſe. 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 Eng⯑land^*. 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 pur⯑poſe, would be imputed to him as a criminal enterprize, and be conſtrued a de⯑ſign 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 ob⯑liged 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 imme⯑diate 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 [313] 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 re⯑tainers^‡: 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 en⯑deavours 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 be⯑ginning 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 enter⯑prize, 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 mi⯑nority; 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 ſedi⯑tious, 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 [314] and important diſcoveries. Yet ſtill the protector ſuſpended the blow, and ſhowed a reluctance to ruin his brother. He offered to depart from the proſecu⯑tion, 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 pre⯑tended, 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 interroga⯑tories, 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, ſuſ⯑ceptible of a more favourable interpretation; and that, tho' on the whole, Sey⯑mour 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 Novem⯑ber. 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. year 1549 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 for⯑merly 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 [315] 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 execu⯑tion. 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 Tower⯑hill. 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 Eli⯑zabeth, 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 ſome⯑what more tolerable than the preceding ones, to which the nation had been ac⯑cuſtomed. 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 celebrat⯑ed 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 myſte⯑rious 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 con⯑formable to the genius of their ſect; and this innovation, with the retrenchment of prayers to ſaints, and of ſome ſuperſtitious ceremonies, was the chief differ⯑ence [316] 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 ob⯑ſerved 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 eccle⯑ſiaſtics 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 inconveni⯑ences, which had ariſen from compelling chaſtity and prohibiting marriage, are the reaſon aſſigned for indulging a liberty in this particular^‡. The ideas of pen⯑nance 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 abſti⯑nence^*.

[317] 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 vene⯑ration, which of courſe it impreſſed on the underſtanding. The prieſts likewiſe were much inclined to favour an opinion, which attributed to them ſo miracu⯑lous 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 ſatiſ⯑faction 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 autho⯑rity, 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 [318] 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 ſubmit⯑ted, 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 [319] 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, pro⯑cured her a temporary connivance from the council^†.

CHAP. II.

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 re⯑formation, 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 per⯑ceived by the bulk of a nation. Scarce any inſtitution can be imagined leſs fa⯑vourable, 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 ſuppreſ⯑ſion 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 pre⯑vented the encreaſe of public riches, yet did it provide to many a remedy againſt [320] 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 acknow⯑ledged 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 Eu⯑ropean 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 de⯑mand, 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 en⯑creaſe of induſtry was at laſt the effect of the preſent ſituation, and an effect [321] 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 re⯑duced 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 Her⯑bert: 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 coun⯑ties, were quieted by gentler methods; but the diſorders in Devonſhire and Nor⯑folk 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 imme⯑diately [322] 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 diſ⯑tance, 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 to⯑gether. 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 can⯑non, 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 re⯑bels, 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 thou⯑ſand men, they grew inſolent on their force, and proceeded to more exorbitant pretenſions. They required the ſuppreſſion of the gentry, the placing new coun⯑ſellors 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 [323] 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 mar⯑quis of Northampton was firſt ordered againſt him; but met with a repulſe, in an action, where lord Sheffield was killed^*. The protector affected popu⯑larity, 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 augment⯑ing 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 Nor⯑wich 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 gar⯑riſon, 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 gar⯑riſon: 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 con⯑quered from France. Under other pretences, he aſſembled an army; and [...]lling [324] 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, depriv⯑ed 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 or⯑dinary 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 ac⯑count is preſerved of this negotiation in a letter of Hobby; and it is remark⯑able, 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 ob⯑ject [325] 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 de⯑termined 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 inter⯑poſed 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 ad⯑vantage 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 [326] 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 So⯑merſet. 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 enjoin⯑ed 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 com⯑mon council of the city, being applied to, declared with one voice their appro⯑bation 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 [327] 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 Cran⯑mer 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 ne⯑glected, 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 re⯑ſigns the pro⯑tectorſhip. Their requeſt was complied with: Somerſet capitulated only for gentle treatment, which was pro⯑miſed him. He was, however, ſent to the Tower^*, with ſome of his friends and partizans, among whom was Cecil, who was afterwards ſo much diſtinguiſh⯑ed. 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 [328] 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 inten⯑tions 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 pro⯑motions 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, Step⯑ney 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 govern⯑ment 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 ap⯑pointed 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 a23 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 exa⯑mine 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^*.

[329] 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 be⯑ing required by any lawful magiſtrate, ſhould not diſperſe themſelves, it ſhould be treaſon; and if any broke hedges, or violently pulled up pales about inclo⯑ſures, 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 en⯑croachments 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 pro⯑perties 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.

year 1550 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 anPeace 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 Tho⯑mas 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 ad⯑vances which Henry made them, by means of Guidotti, a Florentine merchant. [330] The earl of Bedford, Sir John Maſon, Paget, and Petre, were ſent over to Bou⯑logne, 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 con⯑ſent to render himſelf tributary to any prince: But he offered a ſum for the im⯑mediateBoulogne 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 com⯑prehended 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 ne⯑ver took effect.

THE intention of marrying the King to a daughter of Henry, who was a vio⯑lent perſecutor of the proteſtants, was no wiſe acceptable to that party in Eng⯑land: 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 com⯑pliances, 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 ne⯑gligent 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 toProſecution 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 [331] 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 cor⯑rect and reform what was amiſs in eccleſiaſtical diſcipline, government, or doc⯑trine. 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 pre⯑vent 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 recom⯑mend 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 deter⯑mined 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 com⯑pliant than at firſt, a commiſſion was appointed to try, or, more properly ſpeak⯑ing, to condemn him. year 1551 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^†.

[332] 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, bi⯑ſhop 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 or⯑der 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 di⯑vinity 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 vio⯑lences: 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 pri⯑ſon^§; and the princeſs was remonſtrated with for her diſobedience. The coun⯑cil wrote her a letter, where they endeavoured to make her change her ſenti⯑ments, 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 [333] all this advice, and proteſted herſelf willing to endure death rather than relin⯑quiſh 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 coun⯑cil, 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 ſcru⯑ples 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 abomi⯑nable 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 lei⯑ſure 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 Eng⯑land, 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^‖.

[334] THESE differences among the proteſtants were matter of triumph to the catho⯑lics, 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 ceremo⯑nies, 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 aſ⯑ſorted in the articles; and care is alſo taken to inculcate, not only that no hea⯑then, 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 pub⯑lic 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 anci⯑ently 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 naviga⯑tion 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 Eng⯑liſhmen 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 coun⯑cil 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 [335] 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 im⯑poſed 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 cre⯑ated duke of Northumber⯑land. BUT all theſe ſchemes for the improvement of induſtry were like to prove abor⯑tive, by the fear of domeſtic convulſions, ariſing from the exorbitant ambition of Warwic. That nobleman, not contented with the ſtation which he had at⯑tained, carried farther his pretenſions, and had gained to himſelf partizans who were diſpoſed to ſecond him in every enterprize. The laſt earl of Northumber⯑land died without iſſue; and as Sir Thomas Piercy, his brother, had been at⯑tainted 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 poſ⯑ſeſſions and titles, either to himſelf or partizans, as ſteps only to further acqui⯑ſitions. Finding that Somerſet, tho' degraded from his dignity, and even leſ⯑ſened 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: [336] He ſometimes terrified him by the appearance of danger: Sometimes provoked him by ill uſage. The unguarded Somerſet often broke out into menacing ex⯑preſſions 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 Pem⯑broke 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 So⯑merſet. 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 pro⯑jected inſurrections, and of felony in forming a deſign to murder privy coun⯑ſellors.

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 em⯑ployed in like caſes. The witneſſes were at leaſt examined by the privy coun⯑cil; and tho' they were neither produced in court, nor confronted with the1st December.priſoner (circumſtances required by the ſtrict principles of equity) their depo⯑ſitions were given in to the jury. The proof ſeems to have been very lame with [337] regard to the treaſonable part of the charge; and Somerſet's defence was ſo ſatiſ⯑factory, 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 ſen⯑tence, by which he was abſolved from treaſon, expreſſed their joy by loud accla⯑mations: But their ſatisfaction was ſuddenly damped, on finding that he was condemned to death for felony^*.

year 1552 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 ſcaffoldHis execu⯑tion.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 par⯑don^†.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 Nor⯑thumberland met with a like doom, upbraided him with this cruelty, and diſ⯑played 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 him⯑ſelf 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-cham⯑ber, 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 un⯑worthy, 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.

[338] 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 ex⯑tremely iniquitous in itſelf, as well as prejudicial to commerce, it was after⯑wards repealed in the twelfth of Elizabeth. The common rate of intereſt, not⯑withſtanding 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 un⯑adviſedly advance ſuch a ſlander in writing, printing, painting, carving or grav⯑ing, 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 dif⯑ferent religions; and religions, which threw on each other the imputation of hereſy, ſchiſm, idolatry, prophaneneſs, blaſphemy, wickedneſs, and all the op⯑probrious 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 [339] 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 impor⯑tance 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 upper⯑houſe, 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 re⯑fuſed to contribute, or diſſwaded others from that charity, the biſhop of the dio⯑ceſe 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 po⯑verty, 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 compli⯑ance 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 [340] 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 friend⯑ſhip 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 was15th April.therefore taken to diſſolve the Parliament, which had ſat during this whole reign; and ſoon after to ſummon a new one.

A new Parlia⯑ment. 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 compre⯑henſion 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 repre⯑ſentatives. 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 learn⯑ing 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 Fitz⯑williams and Sir Henry Neville for Berkſhire; Sir William Drury and Sir Henry [341] 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 ſub⯑mitted 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 memo⯑rable letter worthy of being tranſmitted to poſterity.

year 1553 THE Parliament anſwered Northumberland's expectations. As Tonſtal had in the interval been deprived of his biſhopric after a very arbitrary manner, by the1ſt 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 pre⯑ſent 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 [342] ſenſible obſtacle to the execution of thoſe projects, which the ambition of North⯑umberland 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 Eli⯑zabeth, 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 conform⯑able 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 marchio⯑neſs 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 zea⯑lous 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 in⯑tended 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 Northum⯑berland engaged the King to beſtow it on the marquis of Dorſet. By means of [343] 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: Seve⯑ral 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 de⯑cay. 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 in⯑tent 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 [344] 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 Mon⯑tague 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 ariſ⯑ing 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 pa⯑tent 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 chan⯑cellor 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 vio⯑lence21ſt 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 alter⯑wards 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.

[345] 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 ſymp⯑toms 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 manyAnd 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 mild⯑neſs 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 con⯑tracted 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 ma⯑lignant quality were the leſs to be apprehended, if a longer life had been granted to young Edward.

CHAP. I.

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 un⯑lawful 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 ille⯑gitimate. A declaration to that purpoſe had indeed been extorted from the Par⯑liament 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 [348] 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 counterbal⯑lance, 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 blood⯑ſhed 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 ar⯑rived 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; com⯑manding them to aſſiſt her in the defence of her crown and perſon. And ſhe diſ⯑patched 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^§.

[349] 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 pro⯑claimed 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 po⯑lite 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 re⯑fuſed 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 fa⯑ther 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 be⯑came, 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 proclama⯑tion with ſilence and concern: Some even expreſſed their ſcorn and contempt: And one Pot, a vintner's prentice, was ſeverely puniſhed for this offence^‖. [350] 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 Ed⯑ward Haſtings, brother of the earl of Huntingdon, having received a commiſ⯑ſion from the council to make levies for the lady Jane in Buckinghamſhire, car⯑ried 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 de⯑clare 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 Northum⯑berland, who had gained reputation by ſuppreſſing formerly a rebellion in thoſe parts, was much more proper to command in that enterprize. The Duke him⯑ſelf, 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, [351] 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 ifLady Jane de⯑ſerted 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 Pem⯑broke, 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 acknow⯑leged.The people every where, on the Queen's approach to London, gave ſenſible ex⯑preſſions 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 beg⯑ged 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 [352] his brother, the marqueſs of Northampton, the earl of Huntingdon, Sir Tho⯑mas Palmer, and Sir John Gates. The Queen afterwards confined the duke of Suffolk, the lady Jane Gray, and lord Guilford Dudley. But Mary was deſir⯑ous, 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 tranquillity22 Auguſt. Northumber⯑land exe⯑cuted.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 fa⯑mily^*. 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 exe⯑cution. 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 re⯑ſtored to their liberty, and immediately admitted to her confidence and favour▪ [353] Norfolk's attainder, notwithſtanding that it had paſſed in Parliament, was repre⯑ſented 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 Devon⯑ſhire; and tho' educated in ſuch cloſe confinement, that he was altogether unac⯑quainted 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 gene⯑ral 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 in⯑clined 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 diſ⯑couragements 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. Natu⯑rally of a four and obſtinate temper, and irritated by contradictions and mis [...]or⯑tunes, 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 in⯑dulgence 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 inten⯑tions.

Catholic reli⯑gion [...] 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 ſen⯑tence of commiſſioners, who were appointed to review their proceſs and condem⯑nation. [354] Tho' the biſhopric of Durham had been diſſolved by authority of Par⯑liament, 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 Glo⯑ceſter, 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 declara⯑tion 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 mitigat⯑ing 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 catho⯑lic 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 or⯑der to make his court to the Queen, had promiſed to officiate in the Latin ſer⯑vice, 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 [355] 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 inven⯑tion 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 founda⯑tion, 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 be⯑ſides replete with many horrid blaſphemies^*. On the publication of this inflam⯑matory 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 acceſ⯑ſion. 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 commit⯑ment, 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 Ox⯑ford, 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 pro⯑teſtants5 October. from the Parliament, which was ſummoned to aſſemble. A zealous re⯑former^{{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, [356] 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 de⯑ſigns; and as the peers were moſtly attached to the court, from intereſt or ex⯑pectation, 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 Ed⯑ward 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 legiti⯑mate, 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 foot⯑ing on which it ſtood at the death of Henry. The attainder of the duke of Nor⯑folk 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 [357] 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 ne⯑glected theſe overtures; and ſeemed rather to attach himſelf to the lady Eliza⯑beth, 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 of⯑fended 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 ex⯑poſed 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 gene⯑roſity; the great regard paid him by the catholic church, of which he had near⯑ly reached the higheſt dignity on the death of Paul the third^‖; the Queen's af⯑fection for the counteſs of Saliſbury, his mother, who had once been her gover⯑neſs; the violent animoſity to which he had been expoſed on account of his attachment to the Romiſh communion; all theſe conſiderations had a pow⯑erful 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 un⯑qualified 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 [358] 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 em⯑peror'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 pre⯑tence for his uſurpations; and from the ſame principle he met with that oppoſi⯑tion which overthrew his grandeur, and daſhed all his ambitious hopes. Mau⯑rice, elector of Saxony, enraged that the landgrave of Heſſe, who, by his ad⯑vice, 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 march⯑ed his forces againſt Charles, and narrowly miſſed becoming maſter of his per⯑ſon. The proteſtants flew to arms in every quarter; and their inſurrection, aid⯑ed 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 pro⯑tracted to the depth of winter; and the emperor found it dangerous to perſe⯑vere any longer. He retired with the remains of his army, into the Low Coun⯑tries, 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 ac⯑quiring that kingdom to his family; and he hoped, by this incident, to com⯑penſate all the loſſes which he had ſuffered in Germany. His ſon, Philip, who [359] 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 power⯑ful an alliance, and glad to unite herſelf more cloſely with her mother's fami⯑ly, 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 Spa⯑niſh 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 im⯑portance, they had imbibed ſuch ſtrong prejudices againſt the pretended uſurpa⯑tions 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 re⯑ſumption of the abbey lands, would alarm the nobility and gentry, and induce them to encourage the prepoſſeſſions which were but too general among the peo⯑ple, 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 ha⯑zard a general revolt and inſurrection: That the marriage, being once compleat⯑ed, 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 ne⯑ceſſary previouſly to reconcile the people to the marriage, by rendering the con⯑ditions 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 pri⯑vileges^*.

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 con⯑verting the nation. Hearing that cardinal Pole, more ſincere in his religious opinions, and leſs guided by the maxims of civil policy, after having ſent oppo⯑ſite [360] 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 Dilling⯑hen, 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 a6th of De⯑cember.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 controvert⯑ed between the two communions; and as tranſubſtantiation was the article which, of all others, they eſteemed the cleareſt, and founded on the moſt irreſiſtible ar⯑gument, they choſe to try their ſtrength by defending it. The proteſtants puſh⯑ed 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 ſwal⯑lowed 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 no⯑thing 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 per⯑verſe 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 argu⯑ment to defend their baffled principles^†. The iſſue of the debate was very dif⯑ferent from what it appeared to be a few years before, in a famous conference held at the ſame place during the reign of Edward.

year 1554 AFTER the Parliament and convocation were broke up, the new laws with re⯑gard to religion, tho' they had been anticipated, in moſt places, by the zeal of [361] 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 at⯑tended 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 hard⯑ſhips, to which ſo many individuals were on that account expoſed. But theQueen's mar⯑riage with Philip.Spaniſh match was a point of more general concern, and diffuſed univerſal ap⯑prehenſions for the liberty and independance of the nation. To obviate all cla⯑mour, 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 of1 [...]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 [362] 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 inqui⯑ſition 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 mul⯑titudes 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 riſeWiat's inſur⯑rection.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 [363] 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, imme⯑diately retreated with his troops and took ſhelter in London^*.

AFTER this proof of the diſpoſitions of the people, eſpecially of the Lon⯑doners, 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 over⯑awed, he marched up to Kingſton, where he paſſed the river with 4000 men; and returning towards London, hoped to encourage his partizans, who had en⯑gaged to declare for him. He had imprudently waſted ſo much time at South⯑wark, 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, in⯑ſenſibly ſell off, and he was at laſt ſeized near Temple-Bar by Sir Maurice Berk⯑ley^†. Above ſeventy perſons ſuffered for this rebellion: Four hundred were6th February.conducted before the Queen with ropes about their necks; and falling on theirInſurrection ſuppreſſed.knees, received a pardon, and were diſmiſſed. Wiat was condemned and exe⯑cuted; 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 [364] 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 inno⯑cent, 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 Eliza⯑beth 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 per⯑ſuaded, 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 cir⯑cumſtances, 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 every12th Februaryfortune, 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 [365] 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 ap⯑pointed 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 exe⯑cution, 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' am⯑bition 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 inno⯑cence 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 exe⯑cutioner^†.

[366] 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 de⯑fence, 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 re⯑committed 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 ob⯑jects 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 autho⯑rity 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 theA 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 ſu⯑preme head of the church, which ſhe had dropped three months before. Gar⯑diner, 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 pre⯑ferring 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 in⯑conveniences, [367] 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 ap⯑pointing 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 compli⯑ance. 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 Eng⯑land; 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 pre⯑eminences, 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 [368] 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 erro⯑neous 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 they5th 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 huſ⯑band, 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 com⯑plained 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 ne⯑glect, 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.

[369] 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, where19th July.Philip diſplayed his wealth with great oſtentation, ſhe carried him to Wind⯑ſor,Philip's ar⯑rival in Eng⯑land.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 circum⯑ſtance 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 in⯑terruption 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 conſidera⯑tions 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, the12th Novem⯑ber.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 [370] 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 ſe⯑parated. This meſſage was taken in good part; and both houſes voted an ad⯑dreſs 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 preju⯑dice 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 abſolu⯑tion, 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 tranſac⯑tions, 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 fa⯑vour 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 Parlia⯑ment took care, in the law itſelf^†, by which they repealed the former ſtatutes en⯑acted againſt the pope's authority, to inſert a clauſe, in which, beſides beſtowing va⯑lidity on all marriages celebrated during the ſchiſm, and fixing the right of in⯑cumbents 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 peti⯑tion 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 eccle⯑ſiaſtics was, for the preſent, reſtored, their property, on which their power much [371] 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 ex⯑pedients were left the clergy for enriching themſelves, but thoſe which they had at firſt practiſed, and which had required ages of ignorance, barbariſm, and ſu⯑perſtition 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 re⯑vived 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 in⯑duced 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 admi⯑niſtration 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 ſe⯑veral 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 [372] 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 ge⯑neroſity in Philip, a ſentiment of which he was wholly incapable; but of a re⯑fined 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 an⯑nex England to the crown of France. The earl of Devonſhire alſo reaped ſome be⯑nefit 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 fa⯑mily, 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 in⯑form foreign courts of this event: Orders were iſſued to give public thanks: Great rejoicings were made: The family of the young prince was already ſet⯑tled^‡; 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 re⯑mained 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 diſor⯑dered 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. year 1555 The Par⯑liament paſſed a law, which, in caſe of the Queen's death, appointed him protector during the minority; and the King and Queen, finding they could16 January.obtain no further conceſſions, came unexpectedly to Weſtminſter Hall, and diſ⯑ſolved 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 mea⯑ſures of the Parliament, but finding themſelves unable to prevent them, made a [373] 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's⯑bench after the diſſolution of the Parliament: Six of them ſubmitted to the mer⯑cy 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 ſubſe⯑quent 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.

THE ſucceſs which Gardiner, from his cautious and prudent conduct, had met with in governing the Parliament, and engaging them both to ap⯑prove 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' ſupe⯑rior 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 fre⯑quently debated, before the Queen and council, by theſe two eccleſiaſtics; whe⯑ther 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 [374] 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. Gar⯑diner, 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 theo⯑logy. 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 ar⯑gument 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 ſcan⯑dal 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 an⯑tagoniſts that impatience which is the natural reſult of ſo diſagreeable a ſtate of the underſtanding. They then embrace eaſily any pretence for repreſenting op⯑pon [...]ts as impious and prophane; and if they can alſo find a colour for co [...]nect⯑ing 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 [...]e⯑cution 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 [375] 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 igno⯑rance and barbariſm of the people, who never indulge themſelves in any ſpecula⯑tion 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 magi⯑ſtrate 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 inca⯑pable 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 be⯑ginnings of here [...]y, no ſolid argument can be alledged for extending ſeverity to⯑wards multitudes, or endeavouring, by capital puniſhments, to extirpate an opi⯑nion, 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 pur⯑poſe 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 diſpo⯑ſition 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 hat⯑ing 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 re⯑laxes 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 [376] 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 coun⯑tries, 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 an⯑cient pagan perſecutions, or for the extirpation of Chriſtianity in China and Ja⯑pan; it ought ſurely, on account of this deteſted conſequence, to be rather bu⯑ried 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 im⯑piety, and ſuppoſes ſuch an indifference among all religions, ſuch an obſcurity in theological doctrines, as to render the church and magiſtrate incapable of diſtin⯑guiſhing, with certainty, the dictates of Heaven from the mere fictions of hu⯑man 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 hy⯑pocrites than converts; but experience teaches us, that the habits of hypocriſy often turn into reality; and the children at leaſt, ignorant of their parents diſſi⯑mulation, may happily be educated in more orthodox tenets. It is abſurd, in op⯑poſition 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 en⯑courag [...] the hopes of all the ſects, and keep alive their animoſity. The pro⯑teſtants, 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 en⯑tirely maſt [...], enac [...] very ſevere, tho' not capital, puniſhments againſt all ex⯑erciſe 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 [377] 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. Impri⯑ſonments, fines, confiſcations, whippings, ſerve only to irritate the ſects, with⯑out 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 in⯑clined 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 ex⯑ample, who, after endeavouring thro' his whole life to extirpate hereſy, had, in the end, reaped nothing but confuſion and diſappointment, the ſcheme of to⯑leration 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 per⯑ſecution 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 ſub⯑miſſion, and whoſe example, either of puniſhment or recantation, would natu⯑rally 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 [378] 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 ac⯑cept by his recantation: But he ordered it to be removed; and chearfully pre⯑pared 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 at⯑tacked: 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 con⯑ceived from ſuch horrid blaſphemy, and to ſignify how unworthy ſuch a miſ⯑creant 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 Bon⯑ner, a man of profligate manners, and of a brutal character, who ſeemed to re⯑joice in the torments of the unhappy ſufferers^*. He ſometimes whipped the pri⯑ſoners [379] 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 oc⯑caſion, ſo deteſtable, and at the ſame time ſo abſurd, as in theſe religious perſecu⯑tions, 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 ap⯑peal 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 imme⯑diately 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 fa⯑ther, 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 ſupport⯑ed him, that he ſtretched out his arms, the ſignal agreed on; and in that poſture [380] 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 profeſ⯑ſion 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 ob⯑ſtinate 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 ſhock⯑ed to ſee perſons of probity, of honour, of pious diſpoſitions, expoſed to pu⯑niſhments more ſevere than were inflicted on the greateſt ruffians, for crimes ſub⯑verſive 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 ſpec⯑tacles, or returned from them full of a violent, tho' ſecret, indignation againſt the perſecutors. Repeated orders were ſent from the council, to quicken the dili⯑gence of the magiſtrates in ſearching after heretics; and, in ſome places, the gentry were obliged to countenance, by their preſence, theſe barbarous executi⯑ons. 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 [381] 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 intro⯑duction 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 com⯑miſſion 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 chap⯑pel; 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 ſpiri⯑tual laws: Giving the commiſſioners full power to proceed, as their diſcre⯑tions 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 em⯑ployed, 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 [382] 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 un⯑lawful 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, with⯑out 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 ſup⯑preſſing 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 Eng⯑liſh government, during that period, it is not ſo much the illegality of theſe pro⯑ceedings, 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 au⯑thor^*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 reli⯑gion; [383] 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 king⯑dom 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 king⯑dom, 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 pre⯑vent^†, 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 in⯑tended to oblige Mary formally to recede from this title, before he would be⯑ſtow 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 be⯑longed 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 ex⯑ceeded 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 re⯑ſtore 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^§. [384] Theſe earneſt remonſtrances being tranſmitted to England, tho' they had little influence on the nation, operated powerfully on the Queen; and ſhe was deter⯑mined, 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 pre⯑ferred the ſalvation of her ſoul to ten ſuch kingdoms as England^†. Theſe im⯑prudent 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 perſe⯑cutions againſt the reformed.

THESE perſecutions were now become extremely odious to the nation; and the21ſt 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 beſtow⯑ing 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 finding9th Decem⯑ber.the intractable humour of the commons, thought proper to diſſolve the Par⯑liament.

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 ac⯑count 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 Flan⯑ders. The indifference and neglect of her huſband, added to the diſappoint⯑ment in her imagined pregnancy, threw her into a deep melancholy; and ſhe [385] 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 her⯑ſelf 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, toThe 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 a⯑piece on every one who poſſeſſed twenty pounds a year. This grievous impo⯑ſition lay very heavy on the gentry, who were obliged, many of them, to re⯑trench 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 quan⯑tity 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 [...]t⯑werp 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 [...] de⯑manded, 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 Lon⯑don; [386] 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 oc⯑caſion 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 ofThe 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 tender⯑neſs 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 con⯑vey a laſting and ſolid ſatisfaction.

year 1556 A FEW months after, he reſigned to Philip his other dominions; and embark⯑ing on board a fleet, ſailed to Spain, and took his journey to St. Juſt, a mo⯑naſtery 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. [387] When he arrived at Burgos, he found, by the thinneſs of his court, and the ne⯑gligent 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 enjoy⯑ments gave him a very ſenſible concern. He purſued however his reſolution with inflexible conſtancy; and ſhutting himſelf up in his retreat, he exerted ſuch ſelf⯑command, 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 examin⯑ing 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 con⯑ſtruction of clocks and watches, he thence remarked how impracticable the ob⯑ject 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 [388] 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 prede⯑ceſſors. 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 re⯑newal 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 in⯑trigues 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 ſet⯑tling 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 over⯑look 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 de⯑ſign, he hoped, that the devoted fondneſs, which, notwithſtanding repeated in⯑ſtances of his indifference, ſhe ſtill bore him, would effectually ſecond his applica⯑tions. Had the matter indeed depended ſolely on her, ſhe was incapable of re⯑ſiſting [389] 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 nowExecution 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 ſupre⯑macy and of the real preſence. The court, equally perſidious and cruel, were deter⯑mined, 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 [390] 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 miſcar⯑riage 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 of⯑fences. He was thence led to the ſtake amidſt the inſults of the catholics; and hav⯑ing 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 diſco⯑vered 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 reſo⯑lution 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, ſin⯑cerity and beneficence, and all thoſe virtues, which were fitted to render him uſeful and amiable in ſociety. His moral qualities procured him univerſal re⯑ſpect; and the courage of his martyrdom, tho' he fell ſhort of the rigid inflexi⯑bility 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 bigot⯑ted 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 per⯑ſecutor and his perſonal enemy, he was prompted, by the modeſty of his diſpo⯑ſition, [391] to reſerve his credit for other occaſions, in which he had a greater proba⯑bility of ſucceſs^*.

year 1557 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 re⯑duce 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 de⯑tected 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. WarWar 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 influ⯑ence 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 [392] 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 Coun⯑tries, 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 hood⯑winked 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, Montmo⯑rency, 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 im⯑portant a fortreſs, threw himſelf into St. Quintin, with ſome troops of French and Scotch genſdarmes; and by his exhortation and example animated the ſol⯑diers to a vigorous defence. He diſpatched a meſſenger to his uncle, the con⯑ſtable, deſiring a ſupply of men; and that general approached the place with his10th 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, thatBattle 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 con⯑ſtable 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 enter⯑prizing in his character; and he was determined firſt to take St. Quintin, in or⯑der 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 pro⯑longed the ſiege ſeventeen days, which proved the ſafety of France. Some [393] 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 en⯑terprize, 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 for⯑treſs; 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, exceptCalais taken by the French.over a dyke guarded by two caſtles, St. Agatha and Newnam bridge, the Eng⯑liſh were of late accuſtomed, on account of the lowneſs of their finances, to diſ⯑miſs 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 pri⯑ſoner on the taking of St. Quintin, to ſuggeſt the project of that undertaking, and to direct the conduct of the duke of Guiſe.

year 1558 SEVERAL bodies of troops defiled towards the frontiers under various pre⯑tences; 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 harquebu⯑ſiers; 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 riſ⯑bank [394] 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 acci⯑dents, 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 Went⯑worth attempted to recover this poſt; but having loſt two hundred men in a fu⯑rious 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 poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 ima⯑gined France to be ſunk by the unfortunate battle of St. Quintin, had, in oppo⯑ſition 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 loud⯑ly 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 [395] 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, com⯑mendator 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 [396] reality to aſſiſt her with his counſels in ſo delicate an undertaking as the govern⯑ment 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 good⯑will 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 bi⯑ſhops 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, [397] 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 ſo⯑lemnized24 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 deli⯑ver 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 re⯑poſe and ſecurity of England; and it was foreſeen, that, tho' the factions and diſor⯑ders 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 af⯑ford to the French a means of invading England. The Queen, therefore, found it20th January▪neceſſary to ſummon a Parliament, and to demand of them ſome ſupplies to her ex⯑hauſtedA 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 arbi⯑trary 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 [398] 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 diſ⯑poſition 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 go⯑vernment, 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, intermed⯑dled in no buſineſs, and ſaw very little company. While ſhe remained in this ſitua⯑tion, 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; pro⯑poſals 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 gentle⯑man, 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 pro⯑poſal. 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 [399] 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 carry⯑ing 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 ſud⯑denly upon him, with ſuperior forces, he was obliged to retire; and being over⯑taken 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, [400] 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 con⯑queror; 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 conſciouſ⯑neſs 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, ofDeath 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 prin⯑ceſs. She poſſeſſed few qualities, either eſtimable or amiable; and her perſon was as little engaging as her behaviour and addreſs. Obſtinacy, bigotry, vio⯑lence, cruelty, malignity, revenge, tyranny; every circumſtance of her cha⯑racter took a tincture from her bad temper and narrow underſtanding. And [401] 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 main⯑tained 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 bi⯑gotted 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 intermit⯑ing 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 deport⯑ment, made him be univerſally beloved; inſomuch that in a nation, where the moſt furious perſecution was carried on, and the moſt violent religious factions pre⯑vailed, 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 [...]in⯑ed 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 tyran⯑ni [...]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 [402] 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 manufac⯑tory, 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 en⯑tertained 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 ſuf⯑ficient 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.